2/18/2084, 0945

X-COM Intelligence Report: M-T947Y1

Operative: [Redacted]

Crime in Mega-Primus is rampant and paradoxically simple and convoluted at the same time. There are three primary factions who more or less control the underbelly of the city and to a slight degree the official politics as well. In terms of threat level there is Diablo at the lowest, Pyske as the middle ground, and Osiron at the top.

Each faction specializes in its own private field of operations and compete viciously to the point of open warfare in broad daylight. These gang wars are mainly fought between Diablo (specializing in gun running, racketeering, armed robbery, arson, and assassination) and Pyske (specializing in Psclone manufacturing and distribution, kidnapping, ransom, abuse of psionics, and bomb threats). However, Osiron is a [redacted] nightmare that plays all sides and stands as the undisputed ruler of this unholy triad. Where the other two gangs are more than happy to burn everything to the ground, Osiron uses blackmail and corruption to coerce others to do the work for them. It is widely believed some Senate members either have family connections to Osiron or even are members of the organization.

Politically, these entities hold enough sway to make their presence (and demands) known. With the exclusion of Osiron, the organized criminal elements of the city are treated as insurgents that have enough power to keep everyone's attention. Diablo and Pyske honestly do not care about the city politics and are more interested in their little kingdoms but get involved simply to flex their muscles. Osiron on the other hand is more enigmatic and has unclear goals outside of controlling the chaos. The organization could secretly back a movement for better healthcare one week only to provide a computer virus for a robbery on the very same hospital they supported the next. Even so, nothing is directly linked to Osiron thanks to their connections.

We will be forced to interact with these unsavory elements. They have the manpower and resources to destroy the city and many would do so without ANY hesitations. In this regard, we must treat them as we would with Marsec and work with Megapol to do this. Mega-Primus cannot afford to have gang wars every other month and have the [redacted] mafia controlling the city. This is a cancer that must be surgically removed while it is limited to the city and fast.

(Official X-COM chief of staff statement: Operation Fishbowl is authorized to be commenced by the Mega-Primus branch commander to assist in crime crackdown operations under the Orwell Contingency. Access to the Orwell Contingency is limited to Charlie access and above. Any breach of access will result in an immediate investigation and court marshal.)


Ethan quietly rode in the modified Stormdog as it cruised across the dilapidated streets of the slums. The car was painted gray and silver, giving it a sense of modesty as opposed to the bright cherry red that Marsec usually uses. It rode smoothly and had a comfortable temperature inside. Ethan knew the whole thing was an elaborate trick, the car was a miniature tank in terms of armor, firepower, and speed. Osiron spared very little to ensure their cars just as deadly as they were comfortable.

Forty mil' auto cannon, a powergrav engine, and graphene reinforced Chobham armor, he thought mildly.

Truthfully, the knowledge he had about the car was beyond his status but Osiron was...considerate in many circumstances despite its organization. His knowledge about how they customize the cars was something that Megapol most certainly knew so him seeing the information on a mechanics workstation did not result in him being found in a dark alleyway. The mechanic got off the hook also but appeared to be sickly pale for a month after the incident.

People always assumed Osiron was the mob which was both true and false. The organization was the undisputed ruler of the Mega-Primus underworld and was willing to do anything to hold onto that power. As a loan enforcer, Ethan constantly hovered over people to ensure they would return the loans (with interest of course) one way or another which was perhaps the most petty crime the organization engaged itself in. No, the real power of Osiron was its vast amount of wealth and intelligence. The organization was the secret society of the Senate and the wealthy in the city, ensuring that their status and influence would grow while forcing the city to be reliant on such a system.

It was the culmination of nearly three generations of politicians, crime lords, petty dictators, and corrupt businessmen who had survived the War. The world had been stripped clean of national laws and regulations which allowed these individuals to quietly grow in plain sight. Corruption never died during the War or during the reconstruction efforts, it simply went underground until the perfect moment rose to the surface. Mega-Primus was a clean slate to start again and this time these individuals could play their cloak and dagger games without restriction, without oversight, without checks and balances, without laws other than their own. Osiron simply was the element that kept the more open and exposed elements of underworld violence under regulation. Ethan knew he was walking an extremely fine line that was blurred and all it would take is one kindness too many for him to experience the darker elements of the organization if he was lucky.


"Oi, you alive back there?" the car driver asked as he turned onto the highway.

"Yeah, just thinking to myself," Ethan said, snapped out of his musings.

"Whatever. Would be useful if you had a car ya know."

Ethan shrugged and leaned back into his seat. He was half tempted to follow up on the offer his "employer" gave him simply to have a means of transportation other than the People Tubes but that would have set off alarm bells all across B-14 and beyond.

Now that I think about it, I live on the second floor but I live in section 14... What's going on there?, he wondered about the odd number system the city implemented for residential buildings.

Putting that tidbit aside, he began to realize where the car was heading. The industrial districts of the city were not quite an eyesore, just industrial and utilitarian. Dull gray and squarish shapes defined the warehouses with the factories looking like...well factories. At least the auto factories were interesting to watch from a distance.

"So...who's the poor sap that I need to convince to pay today?" Ethan asked the driver.

"Saps, plural," the driver said with a grin.

"Fine, saps. Who are they and do I need to worry about needing some muscle?"

"One of them yes, some Gravball hotshot trying to make the big leagues."

"Shit..." Ethan groaned as his mind envisioned the mess that going to occur.

"The others not so much. Hell, one of them is actually one of our guys just paying back a higher up for covering dinner a few nights ago. Guess they forgot their wallet that night or something like that," the driver shrugged.

Well that hardly made a difference. Most individuals he had to frisk were usually honest and he usually had to find loopholes to give them more time or find better means of payment. But Gravball players, especially ambitious ones, were utter hell to deal with.

In a different world I could have been a factory supervisor instead of a street thug, he thought darkly as the car pulled up to a warehouse.


Ethan tried not to glare at his two "coworkers" who had taken the other seats in the car. He knew the casual-formal jackets they wore hid Lawpistols. Despite looking bored and being busy on their phones (something that also somehow got revived and ate up brain cells in the city), they gave off a menacing aura. Fortunately, he was used to working with people like this so he was more aggravated by them than intimidated.

"All right, we'll be collecting from our man first due to it being the easiest job of the day and the fact two others are in the same complex as him," the driver said cheerfully.

"So where does this sap live at?" Ethan asked.

"Who's a sap?" one of the other enforcers asked, finally ignoring their phone.

"Ecozone Apartments. Nice place to be honest even if it doesn't have the...homey feeling your place has," the driver said.

"Call it what it is, Grimoire is a shithole. That's what they all say."

"Nah. I mean sure it needs some carpeting and paint but it's homey."

"Both of you shut the hell up. I need to pick up my meds later and I had to skip coffee this morning," the other enforcer said.

"Whoa mate! Chill! We can pick 'em up after lunch if it'll help."

And this is why I should have never come to this damn city in the first place. Should have stayed in the Belt even if it's cramped tighter than a warehouse, Ethan thought to himself.


By late morning the work went smoothly enough. There was no need for threats or even intimidation for the five jobs completed so far. There was of course the usual complaints and minor attempts at bargaining but Ethan had managed to collect on the payments without any issues. However, he knew this was the high end of the city and things would get complicated once they reached the slums.

"Let's see... Next one on the list is in the slums but we're nearby the wannabe Gravball star," the driver commented as the car started up again.

"Heh, could just go over and force him to cough it up right now," one of the enforcers ("Sappy" as Ethan nicknamed him in his head) chuckled.

"What about lunch? Think the bosses up on high would mind if we get something to eat?" Ethan asked, craving an cheese omelet bagel at the moment.

"I have a headache and don't care as long as we get things done," the other enforcer ("Grouchy") said bluntly.

"Uh let's see. I think there's a food court nearby. Should be...well, right next to our sports guy. Anyone have objections?" the driver asked.

"Oh boy here we go. Might as well get this over with after lunch," Ethan sighed.

As the driver pulled over, Ethan looked at the complex they were heading towards. It was one of the three luxury apartment complexes, reserved only for the most wealthy and influential citizens within the entire city. Exactly which one it was he had no clue, just that it was big and overly fancy. Where as the other apartment buildings were perfect symbols of cleanliness in all their gaudiness, the building ahead of him looked like a supersized mansion.

Rolling his eyes to avoid the eyesore, he began thinking about his life and how ended up like this. He came to Mega-Primus trying to get a fresh start, like everyone else. The catch was, the politicians had the system rigged and no one had need for an inventory manager when everything was automated. Eventually, he was forced to work with Osiron out of desperation.

"So...drive through or are we going in?" the driver asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

"What are we getting?" Sappy asked.

"What do ya want?"

"This to be over with," Grouchy grumbled.

"Cheese omelette bagel, cheddar with the olives and onions. Decaff coffee for a drink," Ethan said, mouth watering at the thought.

"A man after my own heart," the driver said happily as he pulled up to a drive through.

"H-hey! I never said I wanted a bagel," Sappy exclaimed.

"Oh just shut up already," Grouchy said.

Ethan ignored the two bickering Osiron agents and waited for his bagel along with the driver who had ordered the same. Sappy ended up ordering a sub shawarma sandwich while Grouchy got himself cream cheese and lox. They all had coffee to drink (caffinated and decaff) and ate in silence while the city carried on with its daily life. Autocars passing by on the streets, pedestrians using the People Tubes, another gunfight broke out in the slums...just another day while the four men ate lunch.

"So...where's the pharmacy we need to stop by?" Ethan asked Grouchy, not wanting the man to be any more aggravated than necessary.

"On the other side of the damned complex where we need to go," Grouchy muttered.

"Should we take a detour?" Ethan stuffed the last of his bagel into his mouth.

"I can get my meds alone."

"To hell with that! I ain't dealing with a prissy Gravball shit alone," Sappy exclaimed, nearly spilling their coffee.

"You stain the seats you pay for the cleaning services," the driver warned.

Thank you for ignoring the fact I exist, Ethan rolled his eyes before swallowing.


"No, absolutely not! Get the hell out and piss off!"

Well this is going exactly as well as I thought it would, Ethan thought as the door in front of him was slammed.

Turns out, trying to get a rising star from the Gravball League to cooperate was more of a hassle than an established one. Those in power knew how to play the game and when to relent when it came to shady dealings, those obtaining it not so much.

"Mr. Alksalski believe me when I saw that I want as much trouble as you do," Ethan said loudly hoping to keep the situation from escalating, "But I'm afraid you took out a loan and it's time for you to pay your dues."

"Screw you!"

"Well, if that's how he wants to act," he turned towards Grouchy who still was in a foul mood, "Mind opening the door for me?"

Grouchy just grumbled before pulling out his Lawpistol. Ethan stood back as the enforcer ejected the magazine and started using the gun to bash the door handle. With a few solid hits, the handle snapped along with the lock.

"Cheap ass door," Sappy muttered as he shoved the broken door open and racked the slide of his own Lawpistol.

Ethan sighed as he walked inside. He hated having to threaten people and he usually did what he could to alleviate the trouble, but some times he had very little choice in the matter. Philip Alksalski was one of those cases where threats were required.

"Mr. Alksalski, can we please discuss this like gentlemen or do I need to have my associates force you into an early retirement?" Ethan called into the luxury apartment.

Alksalski was holding a knife and appeared to be ready cut a loaf of bread when they walked into the living room. He was tall and muscular...and angry. Ethan was having second thoughts on collecting this specific debt as the tension grew.

"I'm not paying you assholes. Get the hell out before I get Megapol on your asses," Alksalski snarled.

"Megapol doesn't need to get involved here," Ethan said calmly, "Now can we please not draw this out? As you can see my associates have guns and are willing to use them."

"I can see that and I'm still not paying," the Gravball star said before his loaf of bread got shot.

"Next one goes through your hand and then your knees are next," Sappy warned, "Put the damn knife down and pay up."

Alksalski relented by putting the knife down but refused to budge any further.

"I'm not paying you punks. Think you own the city well news flash, you don't," Alksalski said.

"No we don't, but we have connections. You accepted a loan from Osiron and like any other loan you must pay up. If you don't have the cash, we can discuss a new deal but outright refusal will get us nowhere," Ethan said.

"Shove the diplomacy up your ass, we're getting him to pay up one way or another," Grouchy snapped.

"You think you can just shoot me? That previous shot just lit this entire building up like a damn Christmas tree. You've lost," Alksalski said smuggly.

"Oh really? How about the illegal gene modifications? The psionic enhancements? What would the League think of those?" Sappy asked.

Alksalski frowned at the implied threat. Bullet wounds were easy to fix, reputation was a different beast entirely.

"You don't have the proof."

"On us right now? No but we do have it. Osiron likes to keep track of its...investments. Especially eighteen grand which somehow got funneled through backdoor channels to Sancurary Clinic," Ethan said carefully.

Alksalski glared hatefully. Sweeping the bread crumbs off the counter angrily, he walked towards a bedroom. Grouchy started after the Gavball player but was held back by Ethan. A minute later, Alksalski came back with a wallet.

"I don't have it hard but I can credit it. Take the cards and go," he snarled.

"And then you'll rat us out. Here, wire the transfer to..." Ethan hesitated before Sappy brought forth a card, "That. Do that and bygones will be bygones."

The glare Alksalski gave could have melted the hull plating of an Aquatic battleship if it were weaponized. Nevertheless, he pulled out a phone and wired the transfer electornicaly.

"Fry in hell," Alksalski snarled.

"The feeling is mutual," Ethan said dryly before turning to his compatriots, "Let's get going before Megapol comes knocking."


That evening Ethan sat in his apartment with a mug of chamomile tea. He had finished work three hours ago and had the rest of the day off. Nevertheless, he felt as if he had just gotten home and the teabag in his mug is the third one so far. While it was around the usual time he started to cook dinner he did not feel hungry.

"Well today sucked," he said abruptly to himself.

Putting the mug on a countertop, he walked the window and drew the blinds. Turning on his television with a remote, he grabbed the mug and sat down on his couch. Music started playing as he continued to sip his tea. If listened closely, he could hear the individual instruments...and the muffled explosions outside.

"Not again," he groaned as he looked out the window to see Diablo and Pyske having another battle over the slums.

With a sigh, he turned the music up to drown out the noise. The two gangs have intensified their fighting over the past week. With the Senate more focused on the upcoming elections in April on top of the general neglect, there was little to stop the rampage.

Maybe I should try to find more cells for Copper to knock out, he thought as he drained the mug.

Brushing the musings aside, he opened his refrigerator to find a modest supply of food. With some hesitation, he grabbed a pack of Nutrivend meatloaf and made a mental note to eat the packet of fish in the corner tomorrow. Tearing the bag open, he put it in a microwave and set the timer.

"We interrupt this channel for a special news broadcast," the music on the television suddenly stopped and had the Sensovision logo on it.

"Oh piss off! I don't give a shit about your lies!" Ethan shouted.

Turning off the television, he threw the remote onto the couch. After a few moments, he let out a frustrated sigh and sat down.

Only for the microwave to go off.

"What is with today?" he got up and grabbed his dinner.

While eating, his phone buzzed with a message from his employer. He did not need to look at it to know the monthly rent had been paid for...or his premium insurance.

"You can go to hell also," he sighed at the phone, disgusted at his own paycheck.