From: Tabasco <83drew@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.creative
Subject: [Eva/FMP][FanFic] But Loyal to Their Own: Chapter 1
X-Original-Date: Sun, 16 Sep 2007 00:55:50 -0000

                    ((L. von Beethoven))
   (("Piano Sonata No.14, in C-sharp Minor, 'Moonlight', Op.27"))


       The holographic tank taking up the center of the massive room
showed the situation in precise, clinical detail.  The blue blocks,
representing units of the United Nations 5th Infantry Division
(Mechanized), blinked status codes that gave at a glance the general
condition of each.  Makoto Hyuuga watched expressionlessly as another
block disappeared.

       "This is useless."  An anonymous general snarled.  "Have even
numbered battalions fall back to the city perimeter, odds to cover
before following."

       "Sir." Hyuuga responded, speaking urgently into the boom mike
of his headset, knowing what had to be coming.

       The icons obeyed, half disengaging and pulling back, then the
others in a leapfrog pattern for the five kilometers to the new
positions.

       'Today.  It would -have- to be today.'  Hyuuga thought semi-
hysterically.  'My CO is on some damned errand, our only pilot is
wounded, and of course this happens not thirty minutes from the end
of my shift!'  "Sir, the blast zone is clear."  He reported, far more
calmly than he felt.

       "Very well.  Signal the bomber to begin its run."

----------

       Outside on the surface, the men and vehicles of the Fifth
found what cover they could, hunkering down facing away from the
blast. Moments later, a searing flash followed by a gust of gritty
wind and a shock felt as much as heard signaled the first field use
of an N2 device. As the wind and dust began to settle, officers and
noncoms chivvied their charges back into position for a coup de
grace, should it be needed. Everyone kept a weather eye on the slowly
dispersing wall of dust obscuring their opponent.

       Second by second its condition became clear and, at last, its
observers knew despair.

----------

       "No effect, repeat no effect."  Hyuuga reported as a brave,
foolhardy VTOL pilot who had gotten far too close was swatted from
the sky, probably hoping to find some trace of significant damage.

---------

       Battered, blackened, and generally the worse for wear the
Angel certainly was, but its combat effectiveness was in no way
impaired.  While cannon and rocket fire slammed against it in a fiery
wave, it simply powered up its chest mounted beam weapon, responsible
less than an hour ago for the decimation of a battalion of main
battle tanks that met it on the beach, and scoured a company of light
tanks from the mountainside in a blaze of light.

----------

       "That's done it." A colonel groaned, as the remaining blue
icons began a headlong retreat. Unconcerned, the creature turned its
attention to systematically bombarding the city defenses.

"Defense grid to cover the withdrawal."  The general ordered,
slumped in defeat, as the muffled shockwaves of the bombardment
penetrated the command center's walls.

----------

       Nearby, but until this moment unaffected by the struggle
raging above, a pair of dark blue eyes stared wide with shock into a
single one of red, hazed with pain.  At the blood smeared across one
hand, and now pooling on the steel deck.  At the monster silently
observing the tableau.


           Furry Pigeon Productions presents:

But Loyal To Their Own:  An Evangelion Elseworlds
                By Andrew Lewis

        Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
        Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
Han Fei, Samuel Roberts and all other characters copyright the author
       All characters most definitely used without permission


Chapter 1- You May Not be Interested in War...


NERV-2
Stuttgart
Federal Republic of Germany
July 11, 2015
7:00AM Local Time

       Ryoji Kaji was a man with a mission.   As he strode through
NERV-Stuttgart's halls of Institutional Drab, his dress shoes
clacking softly on the tile floors, the chronically unshaven man
reflected that really he had no cause for complaint.  After all,
unlike many of his assignments, this one was simple, straightforward,
and refreshingly free of subtext.  This train of thought lasted only
until he reached his destination.  For as he reached for the door he
couldn't help but remember that all too like his typical assignments;
this one's devils were firmly entrenched in the details.

       Detail one was more commonly referred to as Asuka Soryu-
Langley, though she would, whether asked or not, hasten to add that
she was also the Second Child and designated pilot of Evangelion Unit
Two.  Currently, she was clad in a sports bra and sweatpants and
giving a graphic demonstration to a heavy bag of just what she
thought of it.

       Also present was her trainer, Lieutenant Gert Stuben, a tall,
almost gaunt, brown haired young man, currently resting against one
wall while keeping a firm green eye on the proceedings.  Ryoji shared
a glance with her trainer as he moved to stand beside him, and paused
a moment to watch as well with a private, paternal smile.  Though not
yet fifteen, Asuka moved with none of the awkwardness of many girls
her age, every one of the strikes and kicks were delivered with the
smooth precision of long practice.  Upon completing her set, she let
out a breath as she brushed away the auburn bangs stuck to her
forehead, and turned to face Stuben before breaking into a broad
smile.

       "Mr. Kaji! What brings you by?"  She called happily and
trotted over.

       "I need an excuse?" he grinned back

       "No, but you usually have one anyway.  Spill." She commanded.

       "If you insist.  Gert, I need to borrow your student for a
while."

       "No problem sir, we were about done anyway." He nodded to the
two of them as he collected his clipboard and departed.

       He had no sooner cleared the room than Asuka sidled up to Ryoji and
taken his arm for her own.

       "So, where to?" she purred.

       "Conference room 3" Kaji replied, completely ignoring Asuka's
disappointed pout.  He produced a disc with his free hand. "I've got
something you'll find very interesting."


Tokyo 2
Japan
11:30AM

       A fly on the wall would be getting an earful.  A description
of the previous day's events had been presented on the projector
screen affixed to one wall, temporarily covering the darkly lacquered
wood paneling.  A slim fingered hand, adorned only with a wedding
band, took up a sheet of paper from the matching table and read out:

Repairs to Tokyo 3 defense grid:                   20 billion yen
Repairs to Tokyo 3 civilian structures:            12 billion yen
Repairs to Eva Unit One:                            7 billion yen

       "This on top of medical and disaster relief costs we have yet
to begin to calculate, not to mention last week's damage to Unit
Zero."

       The speaker replaced her copy of the accounting of the
previous day's battle on the blotter before her and adjusted the
reading glasses adorning her cool, aristocratic features and
chocolate brown eyes.  "This state of affairs cannot continue,
Director Ikari."  The woman with the uncanny grasp of the obvious was
none other than Consuela Ibanez, Secretary General of the United
Nations.

       "The unexpected costs of this operation over and above the
already extensive allocations to NERV are simply not sustainable.  We
could quite literally feed a nation out of these expenses."  The
Representative from Brazil, Pedro Silva, added. "True, we are no
longer in the lean years of the first decade, but there are limits.
Many nations, my own included, have yet to fully recover from the
Second Impact."  His bass voice rose as his expression darkened.  "It
does us little good to sink untold billions into your hole in the
ground while the rest of humanity suffers for it!"

       If Gendou Ikari was at all moved by the passion in the last
statement, he certainly didn't let it show through the iron mask of
his normal expression.

       "Indeed." He intoned before pausing, as if for thought.  "And
yet I cannot help but believe that the very reason for the current
incompleteness of the Evangelion production models, the lack of
effective weapons for the defense grid, and the poor to nonexistent
cooperation NERV received prior to this incident, are the result of
many nations, yours included, seemingly unable to look beyond their
own petty desires."  Gendo's voice had by this point dropped to
barely above a whisper, yet none had any difficulty making out the
chill beneath his next words. "It does us no good whatsoever if we
sink those untold billions into building warm and happy cities for
the Angels to annihilate without opposition."

       Silva exploded from his chair, faster than his bulk would seem
to allow, red faced and readying a blistering reply when Ibanez's
voice cracked like a whip across the table.  "-Mister- Silva."  He
turned to her, agape, as she continued.  "You will -return- to your
seat."  He gave a glare of his own in reply, but subsided.

       "Gentlemen, this is hardly the time to rehash old grudges."
Ibanez quirked a tiny smile.  "That's what historians are for."  A
wave of polite laughter swept the room.  "We have other matters to
attend to.  Director Ikari, NERV's latest estimates place units two
through seven over six months from completion.  Is there any way to
accelerate the schedule?"

       Gendo folded his hands on the table and replied  "Yes, my
staff believes that our best option is to reallocate labor and
materials to three of the units.  I concur with their recommendation;
better some Evas now than all of them too late."

       "See to it then.  I assume the search for pilots for the
machines is complete?"

       "Yes, we will be contacting them shortly.  They will begin
training by the end of the week."

       The other council members nodded in approval, Gendo remained
still.

       "Then that concludes the morning's business, meeting
adjourned."  Over the scrape of chairs on carpet, the General
Secretary continued.  "Thank you for your time gentlemen, ladies.
I'll expect you all at 2:00.  Director, please remain a moment."

       She waited until the doors closed behind the last of the
councilors before speaking.  "All posturing aside, Silva's position
has considerable support, though the fact that the Angels have proven
to be a clear and present danger after all will help." She let her
works sink in a moment before continuing.  "What will certainly -not-
help is another incident of this magnitude.  We can find the funds to
cover your needs somewhere, but you need to deliver.  Am I clear?"

       Gendo calmly adjusted his glasses and replied "Perfectly."

       "Excellent." She smoothly shifted mental gears to her next
line of questioning.  "As I understand it, Unit Zero is unsuitable
for combat.  I'm sure your son is a fine pilot or you wouldn't have
chosen him, however, he is only one boy.  How quickly can the
selected production models be ready?"

       Gendo frowned thoughtfully.  "Even allowing for the teams from
The other units assisting with assembly, there are certain processes
which cannot be safely accelerated.  I would estimate eight to ten
weeks before the furthest along units are combat ready."

       "Two months." She sighed, before squaring her shoulders and
continuing briskly.  "Very well, we'll simply have to hope Shinji can
handle Them for that long."


United Nations Atlantic Fleet Headquarters
Reykjavik, Iceland
July 13, 2015
7:00AM Local Time

       The commotion in his outer office was expected.  Not exactly
welcome, but comfortable in its own way.  Alexei Kalinin ceased
typing at his terminal to listen more closely, one corner of his
mouth twitched upward on his weathered face while one eyebrow climbed
towards his graying hairline.  In over ten years of friendship,
Kalinin had never heard Melissa repeat the same bit of invective
twice in a single tongue lashing; he was hoping she could keep the
streak alive.

       He wasn't disappointed.  While his clerk stammered on the edge
Of tears over the intercom that Sergeant Major Mao was here to see
him, all fifty-five kilos and generous measurements of the lady
herself were already barging through the door with a full head of
steam.

       Pausing only for a quick salute, she began:  "Sir!  The
Sergeant Major would like to thank the Colonel for his consideration.
The Sergeant Major was not aware that vacations at NERV's
Massachusetts facility were such a hot commodity, sir!"  She
continued in the same parade ground voice. "She was further unaware
that one was superior to a week in California, and would wish to be
enlightened as to in what ways this is so, sir!"

       'Ah, she's in one of -those- moods.' Kalinin thought, before
replying with equal formality  "I would be glad to, Sergeant Major.
At ease, please."  He considered exactly how to handle this for a
moment, before finally deciding to take a page from his questioner's
book.  "First, we can start by 'cutting to the chase' as it were.
You know I wouldn't cancel your leave unless it was important.
Believe it or not, this may be the most important assignment you'll
ever receive.   You did read the packet you received with your
orders?"

       "Yes sir." She bit out.  "Spend the next few months turning
teenage apes into pilots of some sort.  Same thing I do every day.
-Exactly- the same."

       "Then it shouldn't be a challenge." Kalinin agreed, getting an
icy glare for his trouble.  "And be honest Melissa, you'll arrive in
Sacramento on Monday, have yet another fight with your family on
Tuesday, spend the next two days in a bar because of it, and fly back
Friday night.  What part of that can't you do by phone from Boston?"

       Melissa grimaced, acknowledging the point.  'Good, she's
starting to wind down.'  "It's not much, but I can sweeten the pot a
little.  For the duration of your assignment you'll draw a hardship
bonus, so at least you'll have a little extra to throw around on your
next leave."

       "Whenever that comes." Melissa grumbled.  "Fine, I can't say I
like it, but what the hell, its not the first time for that by a long
shot."

       "Glad to hear it.  One further matter."  Kalinin lifted
several files from the desk corner they'd perched upon.  "NERV's
security on the pilots seems fairly good, but the lack of a close in
security presence concerns Admiral Bordas.  We've selected these
candidates based on their age and fitness reports."

       "But you'd like someone a little closer to the ground to take
a look." Melissa finished.

       "Exactly.  As you know, the pilots are all middle schoolers,
so try to select people who have a chance of blending in."

       "Can do, I'll have a talk with a few of the gunnies before I
go.  Will tomorrow work?"

       "Perfectly.  I can provide a goat if that will speed the
process."  He deadpanned.

       Melissa's eyes twinkled.  "You know better than that, sir.
Only on the new moon.  If that's all?"

       He rose to see her out. "Yes, though I'll thank you to
apologize to my assistant on your way back."

       Melissa snorted.  "Not a chance, sir.  Wherever you dug up
that jackass, I say throw him back.   First thing he says when I walk
in is that the Strip is three blocks south of here."

       "I see."  Kalinin's eyes gleamed.  "Is he still able to type,
or do I need a replacement for the next little while?"

       "Oh, he's fine.  Physically."

       "Good enough.  Give my best to Kurtz."

       "Will do."  She saluted again before closing the door behind
her.

       Kalinin reseated himself behind his desk.  Overall, he was
fairly pleased.  He had been fully prepared to simply reiterate his
orders and send her on her way, but there was something to be said
for trying the carrot before applying the stick.


Hong Kong
People's Republic of China
July 14, 2015
6:45AM Local Time

       It was, Nami reflected, just one of those days not worth
getting out of bed for.  The day itself wasn't the culprit.  Granted,
it was early yet, the sun still not quite above the horizon.
However, Hong Kong's city center could be seen, its skyscrapers
already gleaming in the morning sun.  Nami knew perfectly well that
the city she gazed upon was a reproduction, the 'real' Hong Kong was
currently under several dozen meters of seawater, but why quibble?
Even so, pretty as the day was, it didn't bode on being a pleasant
one.  She had a sense about these things.

       It had begun not half an hour before with a phone call from
General Tien's office for Dad to begin packing for reassignment.  As
she and her sister Tianhao had begun that endeavor, he had reported
to the division commander for orders.  Five minutes ago he had
returned, and then the real fun began.

       "Are they totally insane?"  Tianhao finally asked in dawning
horror.  "Where on earth is Karamay?!"

       "Somewhere in the northeast; where exactly I have no idea."
Her father responded.  "And before you ask, no I don't know why I'm
being assigned there."  He shrugged.  "Ours not to reason why, after
all."

       Tianhao turned to Nami.  "I wish you luck, my roommate is from
that area, nothing but high desert and the odd oil well as far as the
eye can see."

       "Your compassion is overwhelming."  Nami replied with a sour
grimace.  "I'm sure you'll try to keep us in mind while you're living
it up in the capital."

       Her father chuckle reverberated through his square frame.  "I
see you two are adapting as well as ever."  He checked his watch.
"Now then, you still have packing to do, and I have transfer forms to
deal with."

       "Fine, fine. We'll get on it, Father." Tianhao replied as she
herded her sister back into their partially completed room.

       "Good girl.  I'll be back by noon."  And with that, Jiang Lin
was gone.

       Silence reigned for a few moments as the sound of the door
closing faded, before Nami resumed the task at hand.  "Sis, I think
you'd better do the closet, I can't get up there."  She didn't bother
to glance behind her, knowing exactly what she'd find.  "And quit
smirking like that!"

       "Me, smirk at you?  I'd never do such a thing, little sister."

       "We can't all be overdeveloped boy magnets."  Nami snarled
back.

       Tianhao smiled sympathetically.  "You'll find out yourself
soon enough."

       "The day can't come soon enough.  I'm sick of being mistaken
for an elementary school kid." Nami muttered as she opened their
shared dresser.

       Silence returned for an encore, before Nami spoke once again.
"So, who'd Dad piss off I wonder."

       "Who knows."  Tianhao snorted.  "There's a good reason why all
the universities I applied for are in Beijing.  I've had my fill of
postings to the middle of nowhere."

       Nami gave her sister her best wounded look.  "And so
abandoning me to my fate.  You're a real sweetheart."

       Tianhao poked her head out of their closet.  "What are you
complaining about, you like traveling, seeing the world and all
that."

       "Well sure, but with you gone who's going to keep me company?"
Nami asked plaintively.

       "You mean cover for your shenanigans."  Tianhao replied with a
skeptical look.

       "Well, if you want to be blunt about it, that too."  Nami
replied, focusing on folding one of her school uniforms.

       Tianhao shook her head.  "Look sis, I know you never learned
the whole curiosity/cat thing, but for my sake, if not yours, keep a
lid on it please?"  She continued in a firmer voice. "One near miss
with the MPs is plenty."

       Nami looked up to meet her sister's eyes, who held them a long
moment. She nodded.  "Ok, I'll behave."

       "All I can ask."


Oklahoma City
United States of America
July 15, 2015
1:00PM Local Time

       A Lockheed P-38L Lightning howled through the skies above a
war torn Europe, furiously pursued by an example of its arch nemesis,
the Messerschmitt Bf 109F.  The Lockheed exploited its superior speed
to pull away from its foe, while sideslipping to dodge furious bursts
of gunfire.  Finally, its pilot felt confident enough in his lead to
turn upon his tormentor and even the odds.  Avgraceful Immelmann
maneuver placed him for a head to head pass, seconds later there was
a winner and a loser.

       Samuel Roberts keyed his microphone. "Lucky shot, Tom."

       The grin of his opponent was practically audible.  "There is
no luck, only skills."

       "Say that to my windshield, Mr. 'Area Denial' shooter."

       "I've said it before, precision is overrated.  It just takes
too long to line up shots like you do."

       Sam leaned back in his battered wooden chair and took his feet
off the rudder pedals.  "Funny, I remember that precision bein'
pretty useful once against that 'spray and pray' you call gunnery.
When was that?"  Sam grinned and replied over Tom's grumbling, "Oh
yeah...Tuesday."

       "I was distracted." Tom protested.

       "I'd say that too.  Up for 'nother game?"

       "Nah, Kim's wedding's at two.  Mom's been glaring at me these
last couple minutes."

       "Heh, so today's the day then.  I'll catch ya later."

       "See ya."

       Sam closed Warbirds V and sat back up in his chair before his
computer, enjoying a nice stretch as he idly wondered when Gramps
would get home.  He'd promised a trip to the range if he made it in
by 1:30, but so far no luck.  In search of entertainment, sustenance,
or even both; Sam wandered into the kitchen, stretching to his full,
though modest, height, and browsed the selections a moment before
deciding a little music might be in order as well.  His musings were
interrupted by the doorbell.

       "Mike, get that will ya."

       "Why?"

       "Because," Sam patiently explained "you're five feet from the
door."

       Mike, little brother extraordinaire, lurched to his feet and
replied. "Yes, master.  Igor obey, Igor answer door for master..." as
he hobbled to the front door.  Sam ran a hand through a sheaf of
dishwater blond hair and wondered if maybe that B grade horror movie
marathon they'd had was such a good idea after all, before finally
deciding on a simple glass of orange juice.

       His mother's puzzled voice squelched that particular line of
thought. "Sam?  Someone here for you."

       Questions were already forming in Sam's mind as he heeded his
mother's call.  He entered as a plump, forty year old brunette
finished introducing herself as Sandra Roberts, and asked if the
stranger, a youngish man with short dark hair and a lean, almost
acerbic face awaited him, clad in some sort of tan and red uniform,
and bearing what looked like a captain's bars on his lapels, would
care for a drink.

       The visitor rose and extended a hand.  "Hello, Samuel.  I'm
Captain John Sparrow, and I have an offer I believe you'll be
Interested in hearing."

----------

       Sam pondered as he lay in bed that night. There really was
what his friend Rob liked to call a 'binary solution set.'  He could
refuse, no one would blame him.  The good captain could simply make
the same pitch to some other fool, as he'd very likely done before he
came here.  He'd be home, and safe, and so would everyone else, he
wasn't egotistical enough to think the world would perish without
him.  He would be more than happy to keep up on the war via CNN, just
like everybody else.

       But.  There was always that nagging little but.  After all,
hadn't he been taught, practically since he could walk, that you
don't make your own problems someone else's problems?  That you get
help if you need it, but at the end of the day it's up to you to get
the job done?  He had very clear memories of how Mom and Gramps'
punishments had always been worse when he'd tried to pass the buck,
and only recently had he begun to understand why.  How then, to
justify stepping aside and leaving it to the next guy in line?

       And then there was that little voice.  Deep down, but just
barely audible, one that seemed to whisper wordlessly, 'You always wanted
to know if you had what it takes, if you're good enough.  Here's your
chance.'

       Finally, in the small hours of the morning he made up his
mind.  If he wanted to be able to look at himself in the mirror, then
his decision was all but a forgone conclusion.

       He raised his head from his arms and spoke to the darkened
room.  "I've gotta be the biggest fool alive."


Karamay
People's Republic of China
July 16, 2015
6:50AM Local Time

       Nami was pleasantly surprised.  From Tianhao's somewhat
lengthier description after they'd finished packing for the move,
she'd expected to arrive at some sort of destitute outpost of
civilization amidst the wilderness.  There was plenty of destitute
wilderness in the area, to be sure, but the city was, if not a
bustling metropolis, at least moderately interesting.

       It was then, unfortunate that in this interesting city, she
was also living in the most 'interesting' of times.  Last night had
been a case in point.  It was fortunate that Tianhao had needed to
return to Beijing to begin her prerequisite courses for university
the day after their move, the conversation last night had been
unpleasant enough as it was.  The crux of the issue was that while
Nami was a good patriotic girl, she had no particular desire to be
cannon fodder.  Her father sympathized with her feelings, but had
argued the contravening position that, like it or not, as one of the
few who could pilot an Eva, her duty called.  The end result of the
night's discussion was obvious; she was here under her own power
after all.  She'd be damned if she'd admit he was right, though.


        ((Joe Satriani "One Big Rush" _Flying in a Blue Dream_)


       'Here' was currently a fenced compound just outside the city,
complete with razor wire, guard towers, and men with submachine guns
who didn't appear to mind the thought of using them.  With these
cheerful thoughts in mind, Nami watched as her bus was waved through
the gate into the NERV complex.  Inside, it reminded Nami of the many
similar facilities she'd lived in or near over the years, a bustle of
activity purposeless to outsiders but having the greatest importance
to those involved, a sea of uniforms both of an unknown but mostly
tan colored variety as well as the more familiar mottled People's
Liberation Army fatigues.  The latter looked to comprise most of a
motor rifle brigade if the patch of the base she viewed was
representative.  Her sightseeing was brought short by the jerk of the
bus halting at its assigned terminal.  Nami's short stature put her
at something of a disadvantage in crowded quarters like this, as the
adults squeezed through the aisle to disembark, but she managed.

       That act left her on a rapidly emptying roofed platform,
thoughtfully set one step above the road on stilts.  'Well, now
what?' she wondered a moment, tucking an errant strand of her long
black hair behind an ear, before the sound of someone clearing his
throat interrupted her.  Nami turned to find a squat, grim looking
man in one of those odd uniforms.  After ascertaining that she was
indeed 'Miss Lin' he introduced himself as Sergeant Jin and requested
she follow him.

       After following him nearly a minute, she finally broke down
and asked as she slid into the passenger seat of his jeep, "Where
exactly are we going?"

       "Right now, headquarters." Jin replied as the jeep's engine
coughed to life.  "I'm to see to your quarters assignments, then we
meet your comrade over at the Eva hangars for orientation.  They'll
provide you and him with a schedule for the rest of your time here."

       Nami grinned. "Does 'he' have a name?"

       "Yes, Han Fei."  Jin replied.  "He arrived late last night."

       "Then we'd better not keep him waiting."

----------

       Quarters assignments proved disappointingly easy, her father
living in town after all, and without further ado Sergeant Jin parked
his vehicle outside what had to be one of the largest buildings Nami
had ever seen.   In height it was no more than middling tall by Hong
Kong standards, and resembled a ribbed cylinder half buried in the
ground lengthwise, but by sheer floor space it was enormous, the
doors alone looked the size of a soccer field from her vantage.

       Nami mentally whistled.  'When that NERV guy said -giant-
robot, he wasn't kidding.'

       Jin led her inside through a human sized door next to the main
doors, and for a time any efforts at conversation would have been
drowned out by the cacophony of a factory at full output.  Jin
finally stopped at an office near the middle of the cylinder, up
against one wall, and motioned her inside before taking his leave.

       Once the door closed, the sound level immediately dropped to
something bearable, and Nami took in her new surroundings.  The room
was obviously an office, a sturdy, utilitarian steel desk with chair
taking up one side of the room, with a computer terminal perched on
one corner.  Before the desk were two chairs, one currently occupied
by a serious looking boy near her age.  Two men were behind the desk.
The large, balding man glanced up upon her entry, and distractedly
gestured for ami to sit as he tapped at the desk's built in keyboard.
The other calmly observed her from his position standing against the
wall.  He continued a few moments, before apparently finishing.

       "Miss Lin, I am Li Yao, director of NERV-Karamay." The balding
man began.  "I'd like to introduce Mr. Fei, your counterpart from
Shanghai."  He gestured to the boy occupying the other seat.  "The
two of you will be training together in the operation of the
Evangelion units under construction at this facility.  Currently,
Unit Six is on an accelerated schedule, due to be completed in sixty
days.  The two of you will ship out with it to Japan at that time."
He gave a small smile.  "So study hard.  I'll be checking up on the
two of you from time to time, but for now I leave the rest in the
capable hands of your training officer, Mr. Tzu. Good luck."

       The man standing to the director's right spoke "If you'll both
come with me, we'll take a quick tour before we begin our more
serious business."


NERV-3
Boston
United States of America
July 16, 2015
8:30AM local time

       'Well, it certainly looks the part of a secret base.'  Tessa
mused as she waited, toying with her ash blonde braid.  Her small
boned, rather pretty face gazed upwards, pale blue eyes squinting a
little at the distance.  Above her rose a mid sized grassy hill, with
a massive set of double doors built incongruously into the south
side.  Sitting leaning against the chain link fence ringing the base
of the hill and dividing it from the small town growing near its
slopes, she could see how it could easily be mistaken for an
abandoned facility from the bad old days.

       "Except for the shiny new fencing hanging from the old
concrete posts.  Whose bright idea was that?" she snorted, checking
her watch again for the nth time.

       Finally, the sounds of a small gas engine drifted from the
road leading to the doors, followed soon enough by an open topped
white golf cart.  Tessa rose from her spot, dusted off the seat of
her jeans and twitched her bright green t-shirt straight, before
shouldering her duffel bag as it braked to a stop at the gate.  Only
then did she get a good look at the driver of the vehicle.

       She was in short, stunning. In spite of probably being in her
late forties, the driver possessed big, almond shaped, clear light
brown eyes, a face that in spite of the crow's feet beginning to form
around the eyes was still beautiful and well framed by the slightly
windblown short black pageboy she wore her hair in, and a figure that
was both tall for an Asian woman and made Tessa feel downright
inadequate.

       'Where is the justice?' she complained silently.

       "Teletha Testarossa?  I'm Sergeant Major Mao.  Sorry about the
wait, we're all running a little behind today.  If you'll come with
me?"  The barrier   raised to let her through, and Tessa took a seat
next to the attractive NCO.

       "So, what's the plan?" Tessa asked as they motored back up the
hill.

       "Mostly settling in and orientation this morning.  Afterwards,
the fun begins." Mao grinned.  "I hope you packed your running
shoes."

       She hadn't packed running shoes.  After all, the Evas were
controlled by the pilot's mind.  Logically, the only physical part of
piloting should be running to and boarding the machine, Tessa had
thought.  Right?


      ((The Mighty Mighty Bosstones "The Impression That I Get"))


       Wrong.

       Unfortunately, one of the techs wore her shoe size and was
just delighted to lend a pair to her for the day.   Even better, the
road leading from the gate to the main doors was almost exactly a
kilometer long. And the trip back up the 30% grade was proving far,
far worse than the trip down.

       'I'll have to thank 'Technician 1c Launders' later.  With a
brick.'  Tessa would've gasped, if she'd had the breath for it.  She
had to settle for thinking it extra loud instead.  It helped a
little, for a moment she could almost forget the burning in her
calves, and the scrapes on her knees, and the bruises on her...

       Mao's megaphone enhanced voice broke into her reverie.  "You'd
better start moving your ass, Roberts!  I saw my Gramma move faster
than that at her funeral!"

       'And there's another thing, if I have to be here with that
harpy barking at me, running like a sled dog, supposedly being
trained to save the world, you'd think they could be troubled to
provide a little better scenery!'  Tessa complained to an uncaring
universe.  Oh, Sam was cute enough, in a lanky, boy next door sort of
way.  But come on, surely they could've found a more heroic looking
specimen somewhere.   But, it could be worse.  He was at least
obviously male.  She'd thought the kid piloting in Japan right now
was another girl for a moment until she'd deciphered his name.

       'At least I wasn't the one who actually asked what 'her' name
was.' Tessa snickered as she approached the top of the hill.

       Mao paused her stopwatch, frowning at the reading, as Tessa
staggered past nearly a minute behind Sam's own less than stellar
time.  "Ok.  Chiclets, you have some work to do.  We're not trying to
make Marines out of you, but this is just sad."

       Tessa raised up slightly from her currently doubled over
position.  "Ma'am, may I ask a question?" she gasped.

       "Certainly, just don't expect an answer."  Mao responded.

       Tessa blinked momentarily, and then intercepted her train of
thought.  "I was told the Evas were mentally controlled."

       "They are." Mao agreed.

       "Then why do we need to do this?" Tessa asked in frustration.
"We're not living a mile from the launch bays or something are we?"

       "No, but exercise brings improvements in balance and
coordination, important when piloting a 700+ ton war machine, yes?"
Mao queried pleasantly.

       They nodded.

       "Also, it builds discipline and fortitude, both of which
you'll need all you can get when the time comes."  Her previously
friendly, lecturing tone sharpened to a far harder thing as she
continued, "Care to guess what the final reason is?"

       Sam took the plunge after a moment.  "Because you say so,
ma'am?"

       "Bingo."  Mao nodded.  "Take a couple minutes breather, and
then this round I'd better see fifteen seconds off your times or you
won't like what I have planned for our next activity."

       Sam's mouth opened fractionally before he apparently thought
better of his response, the two chorused resignedly. "Yes, ma'am."


NERV-2
Stuttgart
July 17, 2015
11:30AM local time

       Asuka Soryu-Langley was in a snit.  Normally this wouldn't be
cause for comment, but this morning she was outdoing herself.  As she
stormed through the entrance to the beige corridors of the NERV
dormitory containing her foster parent's apartment, she seethed at
the response to her perfectly reasonable requests.

       "Murphy was an optimist." She muttered.  "First, the enemy
that I've only spent the last eight years of my life training to
fight has finally arrived...on the other side of the world."  Asuka
continued as she entered the stairwell and stomped upwards, her red
skirt swirling around her knees.  "Worse, the weapons designed to
combat said enemies are at best two months from completion, never
mind being operational."  She stomped a little harder, causing her
white short sleeved blouse to bounce intriguingly to any onlookers.
"Worse still, what weapons are available, however inferior they might
be, I can't use!"  She snarled, her voice amplified by the echoes
from the concrete shaft. "Even better, those weapons are usable by
both my comrade in arms/arch rival, and now some yokel they pulled
off the street!"  She nearly shrieked the last, as she arrived at the
landing for her floor.  "And where the hell did he come from anyway?!
Barbie is the only Japanese pilot on record!  Alles nicht in
ordnung!"  (Everything is not in order!)  She proclaimed perhaps the
most damning indictment of the situation a German could give.  "And
so, here I am, twiddling my thumbs at home while the newbie gets
fawned over like some sort of hero."  She finished bitterly.  "And
just to top it all off, the Powers That Be In Charge have decided
that 'the First Child and the Operations Director are more than
capable of giving the new pilot adequate instruction.'" She quoted to
herself in a sing-song voice.  "Katsuragi maybe, but that wind up
toy?  Ha!" She scoffed.  "They'd be better off using a Speak n'
Spell."

       Finally, she arrived at her destination, after a few deep,
calming breaths, she found the door unlocked, and entered.

       "Asuka?" queried a female voice.

       "Yes?"  She responded chirpily.

       "Just in time.  I need a head of cabbage for dinner, would you
run to the store please?"

       "Yes, Hilde." came the cheerful response.

       "Good girl.  There's a 5 euro bill in my purse, I'll even let
you keep the change."

       Asuka twirled a finger above her head in lethargic
celebration, safe from detection. "Back in a few." She called as she
exited.

       "Tell me how your meeting went when you get back."  Hilde
called after her.

       'I don't think I can do that in words you'd approve of.'
Asuka snorted

       Cabbage in hand, Asuka entered the kitchen twenty minutes
later.  She was met by a short, squat brunette in her forties with a
pleasant, open face, green eyes surrounded by the beginnings of
crow's feet.  "Thank you, dear.  So, what happened?"

       Asuka dropped into one of the chairs surrounding the small
table.  "Exactly what I hoped wouldn't."  She said in some
bitterness.  "I am not to be assigned to the Chinese, American, or
Japanese branches.  I am to sit here like a good little girl and wait
my turn."  she pouted.

       "I admit I can't see what good you could do in China, you not
speaking Mandarin or they German or Japanese."  Hilde remarked.

       "I know, but it was worth a try."  Asuka sighed.  "I could
have trained the Ami pilots, one of them speaks German."  Her voice
dropped to a near whisper.  " It would be better than staying here."

       Hilde diplomatically ignored the last sentence.  "So you have
to wait a little longer to mount your steed and tilt at windmills.
So what?  Unless you think its better to be first than best?"  she
inquired neutrally.

       "No."  Asuka grated.

       "Then since you're claiming to be a professional, act like
one.  The fact you don't like your orders doesn't mean you don't
follow them."  She pointed at the stack of plates in the cupboard.
"Just like you won't like this one."

       Hilde glanced at Asuka ferrying the table settings for the two
Of them to the next room before turning back to her cutting board.
She still remembered the nightmare Hamburg had been fifteen years
earlier, the desperate evacuations and the rescue efforts that seemed
to save only a tithe of those in need.  As a young nurse she'd
believed only a war could be worse, as a matron and now homemaker she
knew she'd been right.  Who would want to journey into that?


Tokyo 3
Japan
July 17, 2015
6:00 PM Local Time

       In the week he'd been living in his new home, Shinji Ikari had
come to  several conclusions.

       One, his roommate was either a raging alcoholic or did an
excellent impersonation.

       Two, his other roommate was flippers down the oddest thing he'd
seen in his fourteen years of life.

       Three, at some point Shinji was going to figure out whether he
was living every teenager's dream, or a nightmare he couldn't wake up
from.  He was fairly sure he wouldn't know definitively until...

       Four, his day job, and the less said there the better, finally
squashed his sanity like a beer can under a locomotive.

       "I hope whatever malevolent deity that dropped me into this
situation is enjoying itself.  I'd hate to think this was all for
nothing."  Shinji's sigh was audible over the sound of the water
running from the tap to the sud filled sink.  The slam of the outside
door interrupted further introspection.

       "I'm back!" a female voice chirped from the entryway.

       "Welcome home, Cap...Misato."

       The middling height, curvaceous woman who entered the kitchen
declined to comment on his slip.  "Oh good, you haven't started
dinner." she commented on seeing the soaking dishes.  "Help yourself,
I've got takeout.  And a surprise!" she winked on the way back to her
room.

       Curiosity piqued in spite of himself, Shinji did as instructed
and waited at the table for her return.  Not long afterwards, Misato
did so clad in her off duty outfit of cutoffs and a tank top, and
bearing a plate of stir fried vegetables and the apparently required
can of her favorite brew.  And a manila folder, Shinji noticed
belatedly as she took her seat across from him.

       "Dinner first, Ritsuko will skin me if we get anything on
these."  Misato instructed as she placed the folder well out of
harm's way.  "So, how was your first day?"

       Shinji's hand twitched to his jaw, before returning to his
lap.  "Nothing much happened."

       "Mm."  Misato replied, noting the red mark midway down his
lower jaw. "Anyway, we'll have some new arrivals a couple days from
now."

       "Who?  More pilots?" Shinji asked, with curiosity in his voice.

       "We should be so lucky." Misato grimaced.  "Not to say you're
doing a badjob, but we can always find a use for more warm bodies."
She clarified a moment later.  "These three are a pair of UN Marines
and a Navy pararescue jumper."

       Shinji nodded, a little disappointed but, he was surprised to
find, a little relieved.  Having a sailor in the group was odd, but
then he'd seen a documentary when he was still at home about the UN
military that mentioned the rescue jumpers for medical helicopters as
having weapons training, since most places they were likely to go
tended to use a red cross for target practice.

       "They'll be moving in downstairs on the ninth floor, and be
staying nearbyin case you need them during the day."  Misato
continued.

       "Even at school?"

       "Two of them are young enough to pass, so yes."  Misato
stacked the dishes out of the way and dragged the folder over.  "But
that's enough of that.  Now for the main attraction."  She riffled
through the contents, and straightened into a more upright posture as
she laid out several of the sheets face down like a card dealer.
"Pilot Ikari." She spoke, this time in the voice that left no doubt
of her authority to command.  "This is the only briefing you will
receive on this subject, so pay attention." She turned over the first
sheet, to reveal a grainy black and white photo of an all too
familiar figure.  "This photo was taken fifteen years ago, part of
the last transmissions of a small research outpost in Antarctica."

       "Is that an Eva?!" Shinji exclaimed in disbelief.

       "No. -That- was the cause of death for three billion people."
Misato corrected coldly.  "It's codename is Adam.  The first of the
Angels."

       "But..."

       "Save your questions for the end, please."  Misato turned over
the second sheet, showing a gloss black object, looking like a
slightly flattened egg against a backdrop of the night sky.  "This
photo was taken in 2003.  At that time, the then under construction
Distant Early Warning arrays detected an object on an intercept
course for Earth.  What got immediate attention was that it was
decelerating."  Another photo turned over, this time unmistakable as
anything except a nuclear fireball.  "As you can imagine, nobody was
willing to take chances."  She explained dryly.  The last photo was
familiar, a group shot of Evas 00 and 01 in their cages.  "The rest
is pretty straightforward.  Most of the Eva tech came from the
salvage of the second object's wreckage."  She gathered up the photos
and replaced them in the folder.  "Now you can ask."

       For someone who had just had the history of the single most
important event of the last generation turned on its head and run
through a spin cycle, Shinji recovered fairly quickly.  "So then, the
Second Impact...the asteroid impact and everything...was all a fake?"

       Misato nodded.  "I don't think anybody dared tell the whole
story once all the pieces got put together.  We were all still
reeling from Round One, togo and say that that was just the scouting
party..."  She shrugged.  "There'll be hell to pay for it now, but
it's hard to blame 'em."

       Shinji reluctantly agreed.  As he stared away from Misato in
thought, his eye fell upon a framed 5x7 photo he hadn't noticed
before.  "New picture?"

       "Oh, that."  Misato replied, apparently just as happy to
change the subject.  "No, I've had that for a long time."  She got up
and retrieved it from its perch on top of the smaller refrigerator.
"This is from when I was stationed in Italy."  Shinji studied the
photo, showing a grinning Misato, slightly younger than the present,
with several men of various nationalities about the same age posing
against the flank of an eight wheeled light tank. The letters UN were
painted on the side of its small turret, with a surprisingly good
rendition of an eastern style dragon coiled just behind the long
cannon snouting from the front and the word Dragonsbreath spelled out
in hiragana just underneath.

       "My first crew."  Misato explained.  "I was twenty-three, and
there I was with my very own platoon.  I thought I was at the top of
the world."  She took back the picture and laid it face up on the
table as she contemplated it, before speaking again.  "Scary
sometimes, how long ago that seems.  If you don't mind an old lady's
ramblings, I'll tell you about it."

       Shinji registered the sharp change in his roommate's demeanor,
from the half party girl, half professional soldier he usually saw
and was so confused by, with more than a little shock.  He hesitated
a long moment, and then nodded agreement.  "Ok.

       Misato smiled, and took up the picture again.  "Well, a few
weeks after this was taken, we were deployed to Tunisia, and ..."


NERV-3
Boston
10:00PM Local time

       Melissa Mao was, for the moment, content.  Her shot glass
emblazoned with the USMC logo held two fingers of Jim Beam, her
paperwork for the day was done, and her feet were comfortably encased
in a pair of thick socks, propped up on her bed while she leaned back
in her room's issue plain wooden chair, the local radio station
playing in the background.

       "Now why won't I just believe that and relax?" She snorted at
herself.  "You know damned well why."  She'd reviewed the full,
revised, final training syllabus for the pilot candidates, and the
results horrified her.

       "Nine weeks.  They go into combat, ready or not, in nine
weeks."  She repeated to herself, not for the first time.  "They didn't
let me out of Parris Island for twelve, and all I was responsible for then
was me, not the fate of the whole goddamn world!"  She drained off half of
the glass, and contemplated the rest for long minutes.  The whole setup,
from rushed training to the crash production priority, offended every
professional bone in her body, but the hell of it was; she honestly
couldn't think of an alternative.  Not after the other part of her
briefing, specifically, the status of the Japanese pilots.

       "Kurtz would have a field day with this." She finally
commented ruefully.  "A bunch of crazy kids facing down god-awful
odds with no backup.  Just like old times, he'd say."  She finished
off her shot and set the glass aside.  "Might as well make a last
round before lights out."

       Melissa slowed her pace to a slow, silent tread as she neared
the adjoining rooms set aside for her charges, alert for anything
unusual.  She'd left orders for the tech monitoring the microphones
to contact her if anything significant happened, but an unscheduled
personal check was never a bad idea.

       'Good, no screams, bangs, or blistering tirades.' she chuckled
as she paused outside Tessa's room a moment.  Only the sound of deep,
even breathing answered her ear at the door, so she poked her head
in.

       Tessa had appeared to have wrapped herself up like a sausage
in the sheets, only a tendril of silvery hair exposed on the pillow.
Melissa closed the door quietly, before moving to the next room.
Here she didn't bother putting her ear to the door; the racket coming
from this room indicated its occupant was well and truly zonked.  A
glance inside confirmed the finding, Sam sprawled face down in his
pillow with one arm hanging off the edge of the narrow mattress, the
other twisted into what had to be an awkward position across his
back.  Again, she closed the door quietly, before beginning the trip
to her own room.  Allowing herself a soft smile, she whispered.
"Rest well, children.  Tomorrow will be a busy day."


NERV-4
Karamay
July 18, 2015
7:00AM Local Time

       "All systems nominal here, ready to begin sequence." In
contrast to his expectations from movies, Tzu's voice came through
Han's helmet earphones clearly, with none of the dramatic crackle he
expected.

       "All clear here, Control.  Ready at any time."  He responded,
voice still a little raw from its first immersion in LCL.

       Outside the test plug, Nami stood with the tech crew, clad in
her own tan and green plugsuit as she waited her turn.  Mr. Tzu stood
beside the microphone with the supervisor, his apparent uniform of a
blue track suit immaculate as always.  The litany continued as the
systems came online and connected to the simulated neurosystems.  As
borderline approached, Tzu's knuckles whitened behind his back.  Nami
didn't blame him.  She'd seen the video of Eva 00's disastrous
routine test two weeks ago.  The sim plugs were incapable of
delivering that level of physical violence to their surroundings, but
their pilots were every bit as vulnerable to neurological trauma as
Ayanami had been.

       "Borderline cleared!"  The man at the board announced.
"Synchrograph rising...stabilizing at twenty one percent."

       Tzu nodded.  "Very well.  Fei, if you're ready we'll..." he
was interrupted by the sound of retching reproduced in high fidelity
by the expensive speakers.

       'Aha, so -that's- why Tzu told us to skip breakfast.'  Nami
nodded sagely.

----------

       Nami's turn came soon enough, though with Han's forewarning
she'd been ready for the disturbing sensation of the LCL entering her
lungs, and the surge of vertigo at borderline.  Now, her cockpit
displays showed a plain, grassy field stretching to the horizon, with
a few scattered clouds in the sky and a low mountain range in the
distance.

       'Pretty place, whoever programmed it has a nice touch.'
Nami's contemplation was interrupted by Tzu's voice in her
neurohelmet's earphones.

       "We'll begin with basic movement.  Focus on the concept of
walking, and after one hundred meters, stop."

       "Yes, sir."  'Ok, concept of walking.  Well, if Han can do
it...' the virtual Eva 06 took a hesitant step forward, then another,
soon reaching the prescribed distance.

       "Good.  Now, turn ninety degrees right, and do it again.
Eventually I want a square one hundred meters on a side.

       Nami complied, after sorting out a near tangle of her suddenly
supersized feet.

       'About time for those years on the balance beam to pay off.'
Nami smirked, after avoiding another tangle at the next turn.

       "Well done, as you can see, it's more difficult than it
appears."  Tzu congratulated her.  "Now, take a look at your
forearms.  You'll notice a knife handle on the back of them.  Draw a
knife."

       As the handle cleared the sheath, a box cutter like blade
extended from the handle, before emitting an ultrasonic buzz, and a
faint vibration into the palm of her right hand.

       "That is the progressive knife, the primary melee weapon of
the production model Evas.  As you can see, the blade activates upon
use, and retracts when not needed."

       A rough humanoid shape appeared fifty meters in front of Nami.
"Take a few practice swings at the dummy to get a feel for the Eva's
movements, and then we'll setup an obstacle course."

       Nami stepped into range, and took a slash at the 'angel.'


NERV-3
Boston
12:00PM Local Time.

       "Well, its not every day I see that happen to an office
building."  Tessa remarked from her position behind Sam.

       "Shut up or you won't live to see it again."  Sam growled.
"And you're one to talk, 'Tessa the Impaler.'"

       "It would've been a lot more impressive if you'd managed to
skewer something other than yourself with that spear."  Melissa
agreed from in front of the pair.

       Tessa drooped.  "I'll do better next time, ma'am."

       "You'll -both- do better."  Melissa corrected sharply.  "Or
you'll both be finding out what nasty really means."

       Somehow, neither was inclined to argue.

----------

       After lunch and 'happy hour', which since Melissa used it to
describe their afternoon long physical training was two lies for the
price of one, Sam stared in horror at their latest challenge.  And
such an innocent looking one, too.  After all, how horrible can a
single, not particularly thick, soft cover book be?

       "Conversational Japanese?!"  Sam exclaimed.

       "Correct.  NERV Headquarters is in Japan, most of the
personnel are Japanese, and therefore you two will learn the
language."

       "Um, ma'am?"  Tessa questioned respectfully.

       "Yes, I know you went to school in Okinawa and speak Japanese
already."  Melissa answered her.  "Which is why you'll be assisting
Roberts here in learning.  I hope for your sake you're a good'
teacher, because starting the day after tomorrow, I'll be expecting
responses to basic questions in it.  And if you want to eat in the
cafeteria, you'd -both- better be able to tell the cook what you want
in it or you'll -both- be going hungry that meal.  Questions?"

       Sam's horror was rapidly transmuting to outrage through the
explanation, he immediately burst out  "Absolutely!  Ma'am, I can
live with the PT, and the sims, and even the lousy food, but this is
just nuts!"  Sam shouted.  "It takes months at least to learn a new
language, I took Spanish for a year and still can't get very far past
'how are you, lovely weather we're having.'"  He paused for breath to
continue, but Melissa was ready for him.

       "That will be enough, Mister Roberts." she cut off his tirade
with a tone as hard as the reinforced concrete of the walls.  "For
future reference, the correct answer to that question is generally,
'No, ma'am.'  Under -no- circumstances is it 'I'm gonna whine like a
little bitch.'"

       She turned to Tessa.  "Testarossa, you have a date with the
simulator.  I expect to see results."

       "Yes, ma'am" she answered quickly, carefully looking straight
ahead.

       Melissa turned back to Sam.  "As for you..." She smiled.

       Sam knew right then to be afraid, -very- afraid.

----------

       It was two a.m. and Sam now knew that there were exactly
twenty bathrooms of both genders, with a grand total of eighty
toilets, ten urinals and, if his shoulders were to be believed what
had to be a square mile of floor and wall tiles, in NERV-3.  The
disgustingly cheerful voice hailing him from the adjoining room as he
dragged into the (21rst) bathroom connecting them was not helping.

       "Free at last, Cinderfella?" Tessa teased, obviously
comfortable in her shorts and t-shirt.

       Sam roused a spare scrap of consciousness to reply "What are
you doing awake?"

       "Some pre-emptive studying."

       "For what?  All we've got is that language book."

       "And that's what I'm studying."  At Sam's confused look, she
continued "Not for me, but since I happen to like the cafeteria I did
a little work on the side."  She slid off the end of her bed and
padded over.  "Here, this should help." she handed Sam a small spiral
notebook, divided into three columns; it had a standard Japanese
phrase, its phonetic pronunciation in English, and its translation.
"I had to guess a bit, but that should cover the basics." She
explained.

       Sam produced his first genuine smile since he'd woken up that
morning.

       "Thanks."

       Tessa fidgeted a bit "No problem.  A girl's gotta eat, you
know."

       Sam chuckled as he tucked the notebook under one arm.  "If you
say so.  I don't know what we did to Canada, but that bacon this
morning was an act of war."

       Tessa laughed, and turned back to her room.  "Picky, picky.
'night Sam."

----------

       Melissa handed the spare earphones back to the tech on duty,
and left the room with a smile of her own.


NERV-4
Karamay
7:00PM Local Time

       Han leaned against the post supporting the roof to the bus
stop, lost in thought.  On the one hand, he was coming to the
conclusion that, at this particular moment, life kind of... if not
sucked, then certainly left a lot to be desired.  After all, he'd had
an early morning, a hard day's work in which he'd had not only the
delightful experience of finding out what bile felt like in one's
sinuses, but also that it turns LCL the most disturbing shade of red
when the two mix, and now at the end of it he was looking forward not
to one of Mom's if not home cooked then at least home assembled
meals, but a quick snack before he began work, in his copious free
time, on studies of the Eva control and weapons systems.

       'At least it's for a good cause.' he consoled himself.  'And
the company could be worse.'

       Said company had already left on the town shuttle, so he was
free to grin a bit without comment.  The other denizens of the stop
were mostly heading to the main dormitory, only a handful of them
were going all the way to the end of the line with him.  Thus left in
relative anonymity, he could think uninterrupted.

       'Quite a bit worse, in fact.  Not exactly a showstopper to
look at, but if the girls at Dad's parties had had half of the
personality Nami's shown I'd have been dragging Mom and Dad into
them, not the other way around.'

       He briefly remembered his encounters with some of the other
business families in Shanghai.  Boring didn't begin to describe it.
He knew he'd never be called Mr. Exciting, but he swore he could have
gotten a better conversation talking to the table settings than some
of those 'young ladies.'

       'And, who knows, she might just turn into something not too
long from now.'  He admitted to himself, returning to his previous
speculations.

       The bus arrived, and he joined the throng as they filed
through the door, before selecting a seat in back.  As the bus jolted
into motion Han gazed out over the complex, noting once again how the
Eva hangers seemed to dominate the skyline, dwarfing the merely human
scale buildings to insignificance.

       'There's probably a metaphor here somewhere.'  Han mused.
'But somehow I think fatigue has more to do with it.'


---------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's notes-

       This should probably be at the beginning, but I didn't want to
break up the flow of the opening.

Words like -this- are emphasized by the speaker.
Words like THIS are shouted by the speaker.
Words like <this> are in a language foreign to one of the listeners.
Words like 'this' are thoughts of the speaker.

==========
From: Tabasco <83drew@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.creative
Subject: [Eva/FMP][FanFic] But Loyal to Their Own: Chapter 2
X-Original-Date: 24 Oct 2007 09:42:03 -0700

                        Furry Pigeon Productions presents:

                But Loyal To Their Own:  An Evangelion Elseworlds
                                 By Andrew Lewis

               Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
               Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
      Han Fei, Samuel Roberts and all other characters copyright the author
                 All characters still used without permission


Chapter 2- ...but war is interested in you.


You fight like you train.
-U.S. Navy Fighter Weapons School, TOPGUN.

Success flourishes only in perseverance - ceaseless, restless perseverance.
- Baron Manfred von Richthofen


NERV-4
Karamay
July 25, 2015
6:00AM Local Time

       "Well, I hope the both of you enjoyed your weekends," Tzu greeted Han
and Nami as they stood in the barely post-dawn light, "but now it's time to go
back to work.  Your sync scores are improving on schedule, and you aren't
quite so embarrassing out on the obstacle course.  Well done."  He adjusted
his sunglasses against the glare outside, and frowned.  "However," He swept
them with a hard stare. "there is room for improvement. We'll start with
endurance.  Begin."

       "I don't remember a weekend..." Nami whispered to Han when Tzu's back
was turned.

       "I think he's counting letting us off us off an hour early yesterday."
Han replied disgustedly as he stoically moved onto the trail.

----------

       Fifteen minutes and a bit over two kilometers later, Nami and Han
shambled along together, Han shortening his longer stride to keep pace, while
Tzu rode his moped ahead of them.

       "So, where did you learn English?"  Nami asked, hoping to break the
monotony for a while.

       "My Father worked in the foreign relations office in Sydney, and
Mother and I were stationed in Sydney with him, so it came naturally.  I
read it a much better than I speak it though."  Han shrugged. "What about you?
I'd think as many places as you've been you'd practically be a linguist."

       Nami snorted.  "Oh, yeah, -every- forsaken backwater in the country
and a few that aren't.  Hong Kong was the first nice posting we'd had since I
was eight.  Too bad we were only there a year."  She sighed.  "But Siberia was
neat, when it wasn't winter, and I did pick up a little Russian out there."

       Han raised an eyebrow. "Oh?  I never heard we had a garrison there."

       Nami smirked back.  "We don't.  We were 'military advisors to the
Sovereign Nation of Greater Siberia's armed forces.'"  Nami replied with a
pompous flourish. "Never mind that our division strung out along the Russian
border had the only tanks and helicopters west of Vladivostok that weren't
museum relics."

       Han's reply was cut off by Tzu's acerbic "If you have breath to chatter
you have breath to speed up." as he accelerated.

----------

       Over lunch, Han told his own tale a trip to Tokyo 2 for talks with his
father's opposite numbers there.

       "You wouldn't believe some of those people."  Han shook his head, deep
in recollection of an 'intimate gathering' of about two hundred last spring.
"One of the daughters of some company VP or other had been giving me these
strange looks all night, and finally I'd had enough."  Nami scooped another
mouthful of rice on her chopsticks and nodded avidly to continue.  "So I walk
over and, as politely as I can, introduce myself.  She did too, and gives my
hair this funny look before asking if I dye it!"

       Nami frowned.  "That is weird."

       "No kidding."  Han touched a strand of his light brown hair.  "Granted,
it's lighter than average, but still."

       "Yeah, I'd noticed that too, but I figured that since Shanghai's been a
port city practically forever..."

       "Likely a foreigner back there somewhere."  Han agreed.  "My parents
have never said either way, but it stands to reason.  Anyway, so I answer
'no.'" Han scooped a mouthful of his own, and paused as he dealt with it. "So
then, and I swear she looked completely serious, she said 'Prove it.'"

       Nami stared a moment as the pieces connected, and then broke down in
giggles at the expression her normally annoyingly self-possessed partner must
have worn.  She recovered enough to squeeze out "I can just see your face
too!"  She finally brought herself back under control and asked straight faced
"So, did you?"

       "No!"  Han snapped, as Nami dissolved into giggling again.  "I got
while the gettin' was good, as the Yankees say."

       "Different world, I guess."  Nami chuckled.

       Han smiled.  "No kidding."


NERV HQ
Tokyo-3
Japan
July 26, 2015
5:00PM Local Time

       "So, you have the access routes, power and weapons blocks, and defense
grid locations memorized?"  Misato queried from the windowed control booth in
the test cage.

       "Yes."  Shinji answered lethargically.

       "Good."  Misato chirped.  "Then we'll begin."  She muted the mike
clipped to her ear.

       "Begin sync, set for induction mode."

       "Yes, ma'am."  Maya Ibuki responded, trim and professional at her
control board as always.

       As Unit 01 began its first simulated shooting gallery exercise, Misato
stepped back to her usual position near Ritsuko.  She shook her head.  "I still
can't believe he agreed to this."

       "Who, Shinji?" the blonde replied distractedly, while keeping a practiced
brown eye on the status board.

       "Yes, Shinji."  Misato snapped, tucking a long strand of dark hair
behind an ear. "I mean sure he's shy, but he's been here over two weeks and
never a call or letter from his old guardians, or friends from home, or
anything."  She shook her head.  "It doesn't make sense; surely he has someone
back home who cares about him."

       Ritsuko shrugged, shifting the ever present lab coat draped over her
zippered blue top and black skirt slightly in the process.  "Then maybe
there's your answer.  He has nowhere else to go."  'Gods know he's not alone
in -that-.' She continued silently.

       "Mm." Misato pursed her lips in thought, oblivious, and then keyed the
mike.  "Calm down, Shinji.  Remember, just center the target and squeeze the
trigger, the computer will do the rest."

       "Ok."

       The next burst passed cleanly through the angel, and the sim continued.

       Misato resumed her position beside Ritsuko, and pursed her lips briefly
after a glance to check if Maya was in listening range.  "Remind me who's
bright idea it was to send the pilots to school, -and- report for training,
again?"  she murmured.

       Ritsuko frowned.  "He's fourteen. Fourteen year olds go to school.
QED."

       "Ok, fine."  Misato conceded.  "But we could pull him out a until the
end of the year, let him get his feet under him, -then- see about school.  If
he doesn't have the skills to pilot effectively then what's the point?"

       "The point is that mental stability is vital to..." Ritsuko began to
counter in the voice of someone who's had this argument far, far too many
times.

       Misato cut her friend off.  "As vital as giving him the skills to stay
alive?!" She hissed back.  She continued more calmly. "Look, I agree that he
needs somewhere to decompress, and a chance to be a normal junior high student
is as good an opportunity as any.  But I still say that, at least in the short
term, we should be worrying about giving him a chance to survive his next
battle before we worry about his mental state afterwards."

       Ritsuko played her trump card, glad to finally have the option.  "The
decision's made, Misato.  Take it up with the Director."

       Misato grudgingly conceded defeat.  "Alright.  Then give me some -good-
news.  Like that the production model powerplants are finally ready."

       Ritsuko looked away from the status board momentarily, but it was
enough for her long time roommate.

       "Oh gods don't tell me."  Misato groaned softly.

       "Three months."  Ritsuko confirmed.

       "That's what they said this time -last- month when I got here."

       "No helping it." Ritsuko grimaced.

       "What in the world is the hold up?"  Misato complained.  "There've been
plenty of test models built, hell one of them's powering this city."

       "True."  Ritsuko agreed.  "The short version is we can build a
palladium reactor that can fit in an Eva, and we can build one that can power
an Eva, but not one that does both.  Yet."  she added after a moment.  "For
the time being, the recommendation is to fit them with the Test type batteries."

       Misato groaned aloud this time, causing Maya to glance over her
shoulder in curiosity before Ritsuko's glare chased her back to her work.

       "Wonderful.  There goes our mobility."  Misato said wretchedly.
"Guderian and Patton are probably shedding tracks in their graves."

       Ritsuko couldn't help needling her friend a little more.  Fair was
fair, after all. "Well, you could always pack a few extra extension cords if
you leave town."  She said helpfully, a tiny grin playing at her lips.

       "Don't even joke like that."

----------

       Misato drove with her customary skill through the streets of Tokyo 3,
both occupants of her 'little blue comet' lost in thought. Misato finally
broke the silence halfway through.

       "Shinji, what were your aunt and uncle like?"

       "Ok, I guess."  he replied, slumped after a long day.

       "Just 'ok'?" she prodded.

       "They were just kind of there."  He shrugged.  "I didn't see them much;
I had my own room out back."

       Misato read between the lines, and sighed. 'And so all is explained.'
"Well, I hope I've managed to be more than just 'there' for you these past
couple weeks."

       "You're pretty hard to miss." Shinji replied neutrally.

       Misato glowered.  "Was that a joke, Pilot Ikari?"  The harshness of the
delivery was spoiled by the smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

       "Oh no, Captain Katsuragi.  I'd never."  Shinji replied, wide eyed with
unconvincing sincerity.

       Misato nodded sharply.  "See that you don't."

       The apartment block parking pass dinged as it granted access to the lot
next door to the complex. Misato retrieved her red uniform jacket from the
back seat while Shinji gathered up his share of the evening's purchases and
followed her to the elevator.

----------

       The smells of cooking fish filled the apartment soon enough as Shinji
took his turn at making dinner, while Misato assisted by staying well out of
the way.  The TV played an old game show for background noise as she typed
intermittently at her laptop.  Finally, the doorbell buzzed at precisely 7:45.

       'Right on time.'  Misato firmly approved of punctuality, at least in
others.  "I'll get it, Shinji."

       "Ok, I'm almost done." he called back.

       A teenaged boy with grey eyes and shaggily cut black hair, accompanied
by a girl who's short hair couldn't possibly be its currently raspberry color
naturally greeted Misato as she slid the door open.

       "Good evening, Captain." the girl bowed, still in her school uniform.

       "Thank you for your invitation."  The boy supplied, ramrod straight in
his and fighting the urge to salute.

       "Mana, Sousuke."  Misato replied brightly.  "Come in, come in.  And
relax, Sagara.  No rank in the mess, remember?"

       "Ma'am." he nodded, slightly untensing as he left his shoes in the
foyer and entered.

       "I'll give Shinji a hand." Mana called over her shoulder.

       "No need, he's almost..."  Misato answered, but she was already out of
sight.  "Damn. That girl can -move- when she's motivated."  She commented
wryly.

       "She's certainly zealous about her assignment."  Sousuke agreed.  With
a polite nod to Misato, he followed Mana into the apartment's common room and
helped clear Misato's 'homework' off the table.  Soon after, Shinji and Mana
reported readiness from the kitchen, and dinner was served.

----------

       "So how'd school go today?"  Misato asked the group, munching on a
potsticker.

       "Ok, it was school."  Shinji shrugged noncommittally.

       "No torrid romances with the great hero?"  Misato needled.  "How
disappointing."

       "Not for lack of effort on the ladies' part."  Mana added in
frustration.  "I swear Shinji, if you were any more clueless..."

       Sousuke came to the rescue, sort of.  "Ignoring their advances is a
wise decision on Shinji's part.  I can think of several operations that were
betrayed when one or more of the local women turned out to be in the employ of
the enemy."

       Mana stared in rank disbelief.  "I could see threats from outside
forces -maybe-, but you honestly think that there are agents of some 'enemy'
in Shinji's class?"

       "We are."  Sousuke pointed out.  "It's reasonable that others could
have plants of their own."

       Mana shook her head in amazement.  "I guess it's true, its not paranoia
if they are out to get you?"  She replied archly.

       "Anyway," Misato broke in.  "Just be careful.  We did vet everyone's
background, but if we were sure no one slipped through the cracks, these two
would still be doing honest work.  'kay?"

       Shinji nodded.

       "Good.  That said, there's nothing wrong with having friends, or even a
friend who happens to be a girl.  Not everyone is out to get you."

       "Well, I might." Mana batted her baby blues in Shinji's direction.

       "Kirishima, behave."  Misato scolded over Shinji's blushing stammer.

       "Spoilsport." Mana grinned.

----------

       That night, Shinji contemplated his room's ceiling, long after Sousuke
and Mana had returned to their apartment two doors down.  Misato's snoring
carried softly in the background of the darkened room while he played another
of his many tapes.  The track changed from Barbers' 'Adagio for Strings' to a
bouncy j-pop piece, somewhat tinny in the tiny earbuds.

       Shinji quirked a tiny smile.  'Reminds me of Mana.'  Frowning a little,
he added 'Annoying parts and all.  Her VTOL probably didn't need fuel;
they just plugged -her- into the drivetrain.  Not so bad in small doses
though.' he allowed. 'but I'm glad that she's just teasing.  Somehow I can't
see Misato being happy about me getting involved with someone almost three
years older.'  He sighed.  'I just wish I knew -either- of them was talking
about with all those 'advances.'  All I've ever seen is 'retreats' every time
I look someone's way.'  he complained, remembering the sudden looks away and
whispering he'd been getting since he arrived.  'She was just trying to make
me feel better.' he thought with well worn bitterness.

       The track changed again, and Shinji returned to his listening.


NERV-3
Boston
July 27, 2015
9:00 AM Local Time

       "Testarossa, I swear to God!"  Melissa exclaimed in frustration.  "For
Christ's sake, keep still when you shoot!"

       "I'm sorry!"  Tessa wailed.  "I'm trying!"

       "I don't want you to try, I want you to succeed!"  Melissa snapped.
She controlled her breathing and took a firm hold on her temper before
continuing more calmly.  "Try it again.  Breathe deeply and slowly.  Get the
rifle snugged in against your shoulder.  When you have the sight picture, hold
your breath and -gently- squeeze the trigger.  Its not going to bite you."

       Tessa complied, and after a few moments the crack of the rifle came as
a surprise to her, as it should.

       "Better."  Melissa allowed grudgingly after a glance at the silhouette
target fifty meters away.  "Finish off the magazine just like that."

       "Yes, ma'am."  Tessa replied, her face a picture of grim concentration
while she settled her ear protectors

       Melissa moved over fifteen feet to watch Sam at work.  He continued
firing once a second with the regularity of a metronome, apparently unaware
she was behind him.  She raised an eyebrow fractionally after checking his
target, and waited the few seconds needed for him to empty his magazine and
remove his ear protection before commenting dryly, "Pretty good for someone
who's never handled a weapon before."

       Sam blinked in confusion.  <"When Roberts did that say, ma'am?"> He
replied in halting Japanese.

       "Less than an hour ago.  Your memory can't possibly be that bad."
Watching the struggle on his face as he tried to format his reply, she added
"Go ahead and answer in English for this, Roberts."

       "But...Oh!"  Sam's expression brightened from blank confusion to
understanding.  "I apologize, ma'am." he continued in a chagrined tone.  "I
assumed you meant 'Have you ever handled an M-16' when you said 'have either
of you handled one of these before?'"

       She nodded, her suspicions confirmed.  "There's a little expression
about assumptions like that."  Melissa noted neutrally.

       "If you break apart the word 'assume'..." Sam recited.

       "Exactly."  Melissa agreed.  "This is what I meant when I said that
asking for clarification of an order is fine, even questioning one is ok, its
flat refusal that will net you -much- worse than a sore back in the real
world.  Understood?"

       Sam nodded.

       "Good.  This actually solves a little problem.  Miss Testarossa has
been tutoring you in language, but you haven't been able to return the favor.
I'll expect you to change that state of affairs."

       <Yes, ma'am> Sam agreed, this phase smooth from long practice.

       "Carry on, then."


Tokyo-3
July 29, 2015
7:50AM Local Time

       The sky was blue, the clouds were white and fluffy, and the air still
pleasantly cool.  Shinji Ikari cared not.  Right now, he wanted nothing more
than to just make one of those smart about faces Sousuke was fond of and leave
his minders behind.  If Mana didn't get out here with he and Sousuke in ten
seconds he was going to do it.  Really.

       Nine point five seconds later, Mana darted through the door, followed
more sedately by her and Sousuke's 'guardian': a large South Korean man who
officially worked as a radar tech at Futagama named Yan.

       "I'll catch you this evening, lady and gents." Yan spoke to Mana and
Sousuke.  "Don't do anything I wouldn't."  This to Shinji.  With that, he
turned and strode for the elevator.

       Shinji, by now used to this exchange, instead of responding turned to
Mana.  "So what was it -today-?"  He asked.

       "Girl problems."  Mana replied brightly.

       "Right." Shinji knew a losing fight when he saw one.

----------

       Sousuke led the trio through the school gates, just in time for the
warning bell to chime.  Joining the stream of students filing into the school
from the schoolyard, they arrived in class 2-A and took their seats.  The
class rep, Hikari Horaki, made her rise, bow, sit speech, and the day began.

       Silently observing from several seats over, Kaname Chidori just could
not figure the situation out.  She knew Shinji was the pilot of that giant
robot, the whole school knew that by now.  But the other two who seemed to
always be nearby just didn't add up.  Aida swore up and down the two were
bodyguards of some kind, but that was even more nuts than usual for him.

       'Though granted, if you squinted a little Sagara could be a member of
the military' she thought

       The scar on his jaw and some of his mannerisms argued in favor of it,
and he was certainly weird even by this school's standards. But Kirishima?
Forget it!  The girl was as much a trained killer I'm the soul of discretion.'

       An unpleasant thought halted her considerations.  When presented with
this same piece of data, Aida had also mentioned that the Russians sometimes
assigned important persons 'girlfriends...'

       She shivered.  'No, that's got to be wish fulfillment on that perv's
part.' she thought.  'Dear gods I hope so.'  Her gaze turned to Sagara again.

       'Well, when all else fails...'

----------

       Getting him alone during lunch had been easier than Kaname expected,
running off Aida and Suzahara from the roof temporarily was almost as simple,
though she was going to have to do something about that jock's mouth later.
Simple also described Sagara's answer.

       "Are you trying to be cute?  What do you mean, 'that's classified?!'"

       "I'd think that would be obvious, Chidori."  He replied curtly.

       Kaname took firm hold of her temper before replying "I know what you
meant, what I'd like to know is why."

       "Because, if for the sake of argument I was anything beyond what I say
I am, you would have no need to know.  You are not a pilot, nor NERV staff.
What possible reason is...would there be for me to tell -you- anything?" He
finished in the same cool, professional voice he'd begun the conversation in,
his demeanor shouting louder than words ever could 'You're wasting my time.'

       For once, Kaname was at a loss for words.  Before she could frame a
suitable reply, Sousuke excused himself, made a sharp about-face, and strode
away down the stairwell.

       'The nerve of the girl.' Sousuke thought, irritated at both her and
himself for not simply saying 'no' and having done with it the minute it
became obvious what she was asking.  'Nothing but just another junior high
student, demanding to know such important things.'  He banished the image of
her stern brown eyes and shoulder length black hair blowing in the breeze from
his mind, and continued with his day.

----------

       For her part, Kaname was on a slow boil for the rest of the afternoon.
Her classmates, by now long familiar with her moods, were more than happy to
let her lie.  Intellectually, she even agreed with them.  Since she had
transferred in from New York last year, she'd proven to have absolutely none
of the tact and subtlety and, as she thought of it, submissiveness to fit in
successfully in a Japanese school.  The fact that she was also, in her humble
opinion, one of the prettier girls in her grade only made it worse by throwing
jealousy onto the pile.  Anyone could've predicted the likely results from
there, and sure enough, over a year later she was still practically
friendless.  Sousuke, apparently alerted by some means to her gaze, looked up
and returned a stony expression before apparently dismissing her as the
teacher finished writing an equation on the board and spoke again.

       "Not important, huh?"  Kaname muttered.  "We'll see about that."

----------

       In the way such things had, there were only fifteen minutes between the
class and blessed freedom, when the mesmerizing drone of the last teacher of
the day's lecture was interrupted by the trilling of a mobile phone.  Shinji,
just as dazed as the rest of the class, took several seconds to identify the
sound, just as the long dreaded alert sirens began to wail.

       Hikari was up and snapping orders before the first echo died.  "All
right, you know the drill!  Line up and follow 1-2 to the shelters!  This is
for real, let's do it right." The twin ponytailed brunette paused in chivvying
her charges into line and out the front door to spare a glance for Shinji, one
of many he was receiving with ill concealed unease as he hurriedly packed his
bag.  Two in particular caught his attention: a level, meaning laden look from
Toji Suzahara on his way out the door, and the simpler 'good luck'
Mana mouthed on her own way out seconds later.

       He sighed dejectedly. 'That I think I'm gonna need.'

       Now alone in the suddenly silent classroom, he made his own way out.

-----------

       Shinji listened with only half an ear to the checklist items called out
by the bridge crew.  Instead, his attention was focused far inward, as
memories of his last battle once again played across his mental view.  The
stark terror as his Eva crashed to a stop at the end of its track, facing his
opponent two hundred meters down the street like something out of a Tokugawa
period drama.  Confusion and pain soon followed by a calming warmth that he
still couldn't understand, but knew that he should...  Misato's voice
penetrated his introspection.

       "Shinji?" A pause  "Shinji!"

       He blinked as he returned to himself.  "Yes?"

       "Focus, Shinji."  Misato snapped.  A dot appeared on his map display.
"We're inserting you here."    A solid line twisted through the mountains on
the city outskirts before going dotted just past the first defense line.  "The
Angel is here, and making more or less a straight line course for the city
center and Geofront.  ETA is five minutes."  The platform the Eva stood on
jerked into motion as it followed the path to the catapults.  "Once you arrive
at the surface, the Angel will be at your seven o'clock.  Move around the
launch gantry, and engage just like the sims.  Understood?"

       "Yes."  Shinji replied.

       "Good."  Misato cut the link.

       Shinji slumped slightly.  'Oh.' he sighed 'I should've known.'

               //The Rasmus "Still Standing" _Dead Letters_//

       The surge of the catapult pressing him down in his seat brought Shinji
back to reality.  This was not an improvement.  The uncertainty and outright
fear he'd been intermittently feeling ever since Misato told him the next
angel had been detected by the DEW arrays two days ago came crashing back with
the acceleration.  He knew full well he was infinitely better prepared this
time, hours of simulator time had seen to that, but this time he was even more
frightened than before.

       This time he knew exactly what he was getting into.

      The catapult sled crashed to a stop inside an armored building, the
armament building was highlighted on the plug's wraparound display in
red, a tag reporting it held the rifle he was to use.  The instant the
segmented door rattled clear, he darted from the platform and snatched the
Steyr AUG styled 105mm rifle from its cradle.  Blood thundering in his ears
loud enough to drown out the voices in his helmet earphones, he rounded the
corner of the building and caught a glimpse of glowing tentacles sprouting
from a long, eel like body before mashing the trigger.  Misato's voice was a
tinny noise in the back of his mind as the rifle kicked like a live thing in
his hands, the four inch wide projectiles leaving the barrel five times per
second at over twice the speed of sound.  The first few hits staggered the
Angel, before a cloud of smoke and debris from wild shots obscured the view.
Only when the weapon ceased fire did Shinji take his eyes from the external
view, still panting, he swallowed past a throat that seemed bone dry in spite
of being immersed in LCL and noticed the rifle blinking red on the stores
screen, indicating a catastrophic mechanical fault.

       'Oh. Hell.' Shinji mumbled, before glowing tentacles carved through the
impromptu smokescreen barely missing his machine as he threw himself aside
behind a convenient building.

       Misato's voice cut through the panicked fog he found himself in as the
angel lined up another strike with terrifying speed.  "Shinji!  Short,
controlled, bursts!  There's another rifle to your right, try it again and for
God's sake do it right!"  A building's facade accordianed open two hundred
meters to his right as promised, revealing a duplicate assault rifle to the
one he still clutched.  The tentacles whipped forward once again, neatly
sectioning his cover, and Shinji sprinted to place another between him and his
adversary before dropping his now useless rifle and dashing for the weapons
block.

       So close, and yet so far.  A mere fraction of a second from reaching
his goal, Shinji felt a sickening lurch, followed by the queasy sensation of
freefall.

----------

       "I need status on Eva 01 and I need it yesterday."  Misato prompted in
the over controlled tone of a woman whose plan has gone completely to Hell.

       Maya's brown eyes darted frantically over her console as she scanned
the telemetry for abnormalities, before responding negatively.

       "Right then, Shinji you should be OK, so...Oh you've got to be kidding
me."

----------

       As Toji Suzahara clambered awkwardly up the handholds built into the
armor of the Eva faster than he would've believed possible if he were still
tracking one hundred percent.  Unfortunately, shock from nearly becoming a
greasy smear on the landscape has a way of degrading mental acuity.  That
said, he wasn't so far gone that when the voice over the loudspeakers said
approximately "Get in!" that he needed to be told twice.  Pausing only to
check his friend Kensuke was right behind, Toji vaulted into the hatch
standing open before him.

       He was greeted by a splash and instant immersion in a fluid that seemed
too light to be water.  Ignoring Kensuke's anguished cries about his camera,
he looked up at the hatch several feet above his head, and then to the small
platform he'd apparently sank to immediately, before his eyes came to rest on
his immediate surroundings.  The soft glow of the console displays in front of
the new kid, Ikari, threw his expressionless face into stark relief, as he
mechanically acknowledged a voice that Toji could catch snippets of.

----------

       "...and pull back to Gate 37.  We'll reattach a power cable and rearm
you there.  Understood?"  Misato's voice finished.

       Shinji knew, somewhere, that her orders were not only a good idea, but
that he had a duty to follow them.  But right now, he Just.  Didn't.  Care.
And so, as he yanked his foe in close before planting an armor shod foot where
it could do some good, he made up his mind.  Ignoring the babbling of the two
behind him, ignoring the sterner commands coming through his earphones, his
thumb roamed over the myriad buttons studding his left side joystick, selected
one, and gave it a push.

----------

       "Captain Katsuragi!"  An imperious voice barked from behind Misato.
'Dammit, not now!'  She snarled to herself before turning a pleasant face to
her interrogator.

       "Commander Mardukas, what can I do for you?"

       The tall, spare man who confronted her was dressed in a similar uniform
to the deputy director's, though in navy blue rather than tan, with the
addition of a baseball cap embroidered with the name and hull number of the
Royal Navy submarine Turbulent.  He himself was in his late forties, though he
looked older due to the deep crow's feet around his eyes and unfashionable
glasses he wore.

       "Several things, Captain.  You can start by telling your pilot that if
he burns another barrel out of one of my assault rifles, I'm taking the repair
cost out of his hide."  He replied harshly, his British accent pronounced in
his otherwise excellent Japanese.  "That said," he took a breath, "you
were absolutely right."

       "About?"  Misato replied quizzically.

       "The new ammunition."  He bit out.  "Improved penetration against
organic targets than standard issue."  Mardukas quoted with an icy sneer.
"Ikari could have been throwing rocks for all the good it did against that
monster."

       Misato nodded without a trace of triumph in her expression.  "At least
now we know for sure.  I assume rearmament is underway?"

       "Yes, we're reloading the tungsten penetrators now."

       "And the burst limiter?"  Misato asked innocently.

       "Done."  Mardukas grated.

       "Glad to hear it.  As it happens, I was just on my way to roast 'my
pilot's' hindquarters about this evening.  I'll be sure to add your complaint
to the list."

       "Then I won't keep you."  He touched the brim of his hat in a quasi-
salute, before moving past her on business of his own.

       Misato waited until he was safely around the corner before leaning
against the wall and closing her eyes for a moment's peace.

       'Yours along with about half a dozen others.  Gods above but Shinji put
his foot in it today.' She groaned to herself.  She didn't like to think how
this, added to Shinji's evident run in with a classmate earlier, would look
on her resume.  It was bad enough he'd managed to nearly lose the fight in
the first ten seconds, but that stunt with his classmates, combined with his
refusal of her orders was just adding insult to injury.

       She just wished she could be surprised by all this. He obviously didn't
want to be here, and even though Shinji was showing a surprising, in fact near
miraculous, talent for piloting; it was all worthless if he didn't have both
the willingness to follow orders and some sort of attachment to his job beyond
'They're making me do it.'

       She levered herself off the wall and squared herself.  "No sense
putting it off." She told the corridor, and made for the pilot's locker room.

----------

NERV-4
Karamay
9:30PM Local Time

       The projector glowed on the table, projecting Eva-01's brief clash with
the Fourth Angel on the display screen fixed to the front wall.  As the video
froze on the final frame, the angel's core transfixed on Eva-01's progressive
knife, the glowing tentacles giving a fitful glow before dying out for good,
the lights rose back to normal level and Mr. Tzu returned to the lectern.

       "And there you have it.  We'll discuss this in more depth tomorrow
morning, but I imagined you'd both like to see it fresh.  Comments?"

       "At least we know the prog knives work?" Nami ventured

       Tzu smirked.  "Indeed.  It's all but certain measures will be taken in
the next few days to remedy the Type 14 rifle's deficiencies, but in the mean
time melee weapons are going to be the order of the day.  What else?"

       "Standing still out in the open is asking for trouble."  Han added.
"Ikari should have kept moving the instant he left the catapult."

       "Very good.  It's called 'shoot and scoot,' and you'll be practicing it
in the simulators tomorrow also.  One last thing, it should now be obvious why
short bursts are preferred.  I understand that Ikari managed to ruin his
weapon with that volley, not to mention handing his opponent a ready-made
smokescreen.  That will be all."  Tzu killed the projector and front lights
and bid them goodnight.

       Nami meditated on the film as she and Han walked to the bus stop.
Tianhao had warned her about indulging her overactive curiosity, but this time
she just couldn't help it.  The videos proved that Shinji had both talent and
training, judging from this battle and his previous one, but some of the
mistakes were ones she and Han might have made.  An experienced pilot on
Soryu-Langley or Ayanami's level should've avoided them effortlessly.  Yet
he'd been presented to them as Ayanami's backup on Eva-01, which would imply
he'd been training as long as her.  Something wasn't adding up, and from what
she'd heard about the elder Ikari she doubted nepotism or incompetence was the
answer.

       She caught a piece of her lower lip between her teeth and came to a
decision. 'I think it's time for a little research.'



NERV-2
Stuttgart
July 31, 2015
8:00AM Local Time

       Asuka Soryu-Langley was about to have fun.  This was the message her
subconscious was sending her this fine morning, and she had no reason to doubt
it was the truth.  After all, the brass had finally gotten their heads out of
their collective asses and realized that cooperative training was a good idea,
especially with Miss Perfect on the verge of returning to duty.  And since her
own humble self was at loose ends there was one ready-made instructor available.

       "Well, one and a half." Asuka reminded herself quietly, in the interest
of fairness. "Ayanami might contribute -something-."

       "All set, Asuka?"  Steuben's voice broke into her monologue.

       "I was born ready."

       The familiar vertigo of a successful sync washed over her briefly, and
as quickly controlled.  Asuka surveyed her new surroundings.  A battered,
rubble strewn city presented itself to her gaze, and as expected her map
display confirmed the city made up the entirety of the practice area.  Hefting
her pickaxe in her left hand and drawing one of her two 120mm pistols from her
right shoulder housing, she scanned her immediate environment again before
she made another quick study of the map.

       'Ok, the opponent on this run is one of the Chinese pilots, and their
units are optimized for short to mid range direct fire.  This means...there.'
Asuka spotted a broad avenue leading to a sort of park area surrounded by low
one to two story buildings. 'That's where they'd be at best advantage.  So
we'll give them some credit for brains and assume they'll be heading there,
which means I need to be there first.'

       Her course decided, Asuka moved out.  During the early stages of the
project, there was a joke going around that the Angels wouldn't need eyes
to track an Eva, just a seismograph.  Asuka had laughed at the joke like most,
but she'd also taken it to heart.  It wasn't possible to totally mask an Eva's
seismic or audio signatures, but it -was- possible to reduce them.  Granted,
this was equivalent to going from 'artillery barrage' to 'heavy metal band'
but a girl takes what she can get in this world.  In this way, and by holding
her AT field closed and a cluster of buildings or other obstructions between
her and her guesstimate of her opponent's position, she was confident she
could close the distance in relative safety.

----------

               //Joe Satriani "Ceremony" _Live in San Francisco_//

       The dull shocks felt through the soles of her Eva's feet told Asuka her
prey approached, acting at a visceral level that her sensors tracking Eva-06's
fire control radar and sonar for the past minute hadn't.  Heart racing, she
forced herself to remain still, backed up against what was probably once an
apartment block, feeling the footfalls grow stronger with each stride.  Her
patience in patrolling the area around the park was about to pay off, it
wouldn't do to spook the game now.

       Finally, Asuka's instincts told her the time was right.  Her lips
curled back from her teeth, she leapt from her hiding place at her target from
behind with a wordless cry, pistol swinging into line as she unfolded her
AT field.  Eva-06 frantically spun to bring its rifle to bear and began
backing up, a line of dusty explosions in the concrete of the street and
buildings marked the path of his rounds as they sought his opponent.

       Asuka seemed to dance around the supersonic projectiles, never
remaining still long enough to be targeted effectively.  All the while, her
pistol blazed two shot volleys, systematically disabling first Han's rifle,
then the sensors that aimed it.

       Stunned by the speed and violence of its attacker, Eva-06 never had a
chance of stopping the axe in Eva-02's other hand.  Ruin flopped at her feet.

       Asuka smiled grimly at her fallen foe.  "First blood."


NERV-3
Boston
August 2, 2015
9:20 Local Time

               //Motley Crue "Kickstart my Heart" _Dr. Feelgood_//

       Eva-03 sprinted through a small suburban neighborhood, white and navy
blue paint job completely ineffective at camouflaging it against the high rise
towers of downtown visible on the horizon.  The wedge shaped half height
shoulder pylons mounting its Aegis radar arrays announced its identity,
and those selfsame currently transmitting radars its location, to all and
sundry.  Clutched in its hands was an 'improved' Type 14 assault rifle, part
of the purpose of this sim being to test out proposed changes to the real
thing.  This morning, it was so far, so good.

       A three round burst crackled downrange trailing faint glowing lines in
the sunlight, even at this intermediate range the new ammunition was obviously
moving on a much flatter trajectory and higher velocity than the previous
type.  Eva 02 darted aside fluidly as it allowed the rounds to demolish an
elementary school further on, and smoothly turned the motion into a sprint to
its next bit of cover, a blocky looking warehouse, before returning fire.

       For its part, Eva-03 was also on the move, though not making as much
effort to take cover given its longer effective range. He had pulled back a
block to the southeast and gone to ground near a small apartment complex in an
attempt to work around onto Eva-02's flank, meanwhile keeping up a harassing
fire in the hope of keeping Eva-02 pinned down.

       Good plan, but not Asuka's plan.

       The explosion of the gas station barely fifty yards to Sam's left was
all the distraction she needed, as he instinctively ducked away from the
blast.  Eva-02 re-holstered its pistol and popped out of cover like a shot,
covering half the 700 meters separating her from her target as a bright red
blur before the hapless newbie could switch sensor modes and try to reacquire
through the smoke and flame.

       Another fifty was lost while Sam brought the rifle back around to do
something about it.

       Another hundred while he waited for the computer to lock on and grant
permission to fire.

       Mere instants before a squeeze of the trigger could send the forearm
long tungsten darts on their way, Eva-02 vaulted a college dorm before using
it as a springboard for a tremendous leap, she seemed to hang in the air for
the briefest instant before beginning the terminal part of the arc.

----------

       Melissa Mao grimaced at the display, currently showing a replay of the
demise of Eva-03 in graphic detail.  Personally, she was impressed Roberts had
lasted as long as he had, given the massive disparity in experience and skill
between him and his opponent.  Not that he was looking at it that way, she
saw, reading his frustrated expression as he exited the simulator plug.

       'Neither is Testarossa, for that matter.  I can't tell if Soryu-Langley
is being that obnoxious from some attempt to toughen them or if it's just
natural talent, but she has those two ready to spit nails.'

----------

       "And who's our next contestant?" Asuka chirped as Tessa buckled the
restraints.  She reminded herself once again that it was impolitic to give her
training 'officer' both barrels, even if she deserved it.  Especially if she
deserved it.

       <"Trainee Testarossa."> she replied pleasantly in Japanese.

       <"Oh -good-, Miss Fortune herself.">  Asuka snerked.  <"Well, if you
can manage not to trip over your own feet for a few moments, I'll bring up
your assignment.">

       Tessa ground her teeth and privately thanked whichever programmer who
set up the NERV network for deciding not to waste bandwidth on plug to plug
video feeds.  The gloating sneer that -had- to go along with that line
would've driven her over the edge for sure.

       <"Fine."> Tessa grated.

       <I'm -so- glad you approve.>

----------

       'Though I admit Ayanami's 'explanations' aren't a huge improvement.'
Mao admitted.

----------

       <"That is incorrect.">  The voice over the radio coolly announced.

       <"Ok, how so?"> Sam queried.

       After a pause, the voice returned.  <"You are not performing the
maneuver as described.">

       "I'm aware of that, Ayanami."  Sam switched to English, hoping it
was just a translation gaffe causing the problem. "The correct maneuver
involves me falling on my butt much less often."

       She answered in the same language.  "Then there is no miscommunication."

       Sam took a deep breath of the LCL and slowly exhaled.  This was not the
first time he'd done this dance, nor the second.  Nor fourth.  "No...I still
don't know what exactly I'm doing wrong."

       "Your execution was incorrect."

       Sam bit down on a scream.

----------

       She watched Sam and Tessa confer a moment next to the plug, Sam smiling
briefly before decompressing his green and white plugsuit and continuing on to
the showers.  She nodded at the tech's questioning look, and returned most
of her attention to the main screen as the sim parameters reset.

----------

       Sam strutted down through the door to his quarters with a bounce in his
step and a song in his heart that night.

       "Hey Tessa, you home?" he called through the closed door on her side of
the bathroom.

       "No."

       "Uh huh.  Well, we missed ya at dinner, but you're in luck.  Through
skill and cunning I was able to get the cafeteria ladies to understand 'doggie
bag' in Japanese." He said proudly, rattling the bag enticingly.  "So come on
out, hey?"

       "...Fine."

       Early on in their time at NERV-3, Melissa had explained that due to a
housing shortage from additional personnel they were being roomed,
effectively, together.  In true Melissa fashion, she had made clear this was
not to be regarded as an Opportunity by either side, and that either's
presence in the other's quarters would be Frowned Upon.  Therefore, in true
teenage fashion, they'd obeyed the letter of her instructions perfectly.

       Sam leaned against the open doorjamb, while Tessa spread out her meal
on the small desk near it and took a seat.

       "You really didn't have to..." she began, before being belied by a low
gurgling rumble.

       "'course not."  Sam replied dryly.  "And before you ask, yes, I
passed."

       "That's great!" Tessa exclaimed after hurriedly swallowing a mouthful
of chicken tender.

       "Yes indeed."  Sam preened.  "I'm o-fficially rated Expert on the
M-16 rifle.  About time for seven years of weekends at the range to amount to
somethin'.  I might even have a chance at Expert on the M-40 and AUG before we
leave."  He stalled on whatever he would've said next, as just what leaving
would mean washed over his thoughts once again.

       "And tens of thousands of trigger pulls, I'd imagine."  Tessa noted
absently, thinking much the same.

       Sam snorted ruefully.

       Only the sounds of Tessa's plastic knife on the cardboard plate broke
the silence of two lost in their own thoughts for a while, before she spoke
again.  "Does it bother you too?  Leaving I mean."

       Sam frowned thoughtfully at the industrial brown carpet.  "Yeah.  Yeah,
it does."  He sighed.  "I know we're barely a third of the way through, and
I -think- I'm a lot better prepared now than at the start, but it just seems
like as far as we might've come, we have a whole lot farther t' go."  He
grimaced.  "Least there's still time, though."

       "Mm."  Tessa nodded, his thoughts echoing some of her own. "But I
wouldn't be so sure of having all of that time.  If Ikari gets put out of
commission, guess who's next in line."

       Sam glanced up.  "I hadn't given it much thought, but I'd have bet
Soryu, or if they were really desperate, they could put Ayanami back in.  Its
not like us or our Chinese buddies are even close to either of 'em's level
yet."

       "You'd think, but then Soryu claimed once she'd never pilot a 'test
model toy' so..."

       "She probably can't do it."  Sam finished grimly.  "Point taken.  Man,
you're just full of sweetness and light today."

       Tessa gave him an apologetic look.  "Sorry."

       "Eh, better to know now than get it sprung on me."   Sam eased back
to standing unaided and smiled at the completely clean plate.  "Well, that was
my good deed for the day.  I need to hit the books a little more before bed,
so I'll catch ya later."

       "Fair enough, yell if you need help."  She wadded up the bag and paper
plates and stuffed them into the small trash can by the desk.  "And thanks."

       Sam waggled his eyebrows at her as he turned back to his room.  "Hey,
someone's got to keep an eye on you."

       Tessa rolled her eyes and tossed an ice cube at him.  "Keep them
elsewhere."

       "Fine, fine.  -Crush- a guy's dreams why don't ya."  Sam replied in a
put upon voice as he ambled off.  "'night, Tessa."

       "Goodnight." she said with a chuckle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Notes


And that just about does it for the character intros.  I promise,
really.

And, of course, the soundtrack.

574-The Rasmus "Still Standing" _Dead Letters_
822-Joe Satriani "Ceremony" _Live in San Francisco_
855-Motley Crue "Kickstart my Heart" _Dr. Feelgood_

==========
From: Tabasco <83drew@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.creative
X-Original-Date: Tue, 25 Dec 2007 19:51:40 -0800 (PST)
Subject: [Eva/FMP][FanFic] But Loyal to Their Own: Chapter 3

                     Furry Pigeon Productions presents:

              But Loyal To Their Own:  An Evangelion Elseworlds
                              By Andrew Lewis

             Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
             Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
  Han Fei, Samuel Roberts and all other characters copyright the
                                  author
              All characters once again used without permission


Chapter 3- Sword and Shield

Depend upon it sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight
it concentrates his mind wonderfully.
-Dr. Samuel Johnson.

If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly.
--Nick Lappos, Chief R&D Pilot, Sikorsky Aircraft


Tokyo-3
July 30, 2015
4:30 AM Local Time

       Mana Kirishima peered through her compact binoculars at the
scene below her in the predawn light.  A small tent, suitable for 
occupation by one or two people, lay one hundred meters ahead of the 
small hillock they'd been lying behind for the past several hours.  
Beside her, Sousuke Sagara tapped her shoulder and gestured for the 
binoculars.  While he took over her vigil, Mana rolled over on her back 
with a grumble.

----------

Earlier

       "GONE?!"

       "Yes, Ma'am"  Sousuke replied to Misato's incredulous
exclamation. "There was no evidence of forced entry on the window, nor
the balcony or outside doors." he continued calmly.  "Given that
his effects were removed from his room and his ID was left behind, I
would assume he left of his own volition."

       Misato cursed herself for a fool for not seeing this coming.
"That would be my guess as well." she replied into her cellphone.  "Are
Kirishima and Jongkyu with you?"

       "No, ma'am.  Petty Officer Kirishima is currently returning from
Miss Ayanami's residence,  Sergeant Jongkyu is still at Mt. Futagama."

       "Call them.  I'll be there in twenty minutes."

----------

       The council of war convened shortly thereafter. It was quickly
established that sometime between Shinji's departure of the Geofront at
7:00 that evening and Sousuke's arrival at the apartment thirty minutes
later, Shinji had managed to pack his bags, straighten his room, and
disappear.

       "You know, looked at the right way, this is pretty impressive."
Mana commented.  "I mean, his room was always unnaturally neat for a
boy's, but still, counting travel time he had barely twenty minutes to
pull this off."

       "Mm."  Misato grunted, deep in contemplation.  "Be that as it
may, we can't have him wandering the streets alone."

       Yan nodded.  "I agree, Captain.  But finding him is going to be
quite a challenge even with his tracking device." the South Korean 
waved vaguely out the balcony doors. "This city is warren.  He has 
literally dozens of possible hiding places in any given city block, and 
fifty meters is about all the resolution we can expect in there without
retracting the buildings."

       "It gets better."  Misato chuckled bitterly.  "I checked with
Security, evidently he was never fitted with a tag.  'Slipped through
the cracks' they said."  She watched her subordinates' crestfallen
expressions as a difficult task turned into a nigh-impossible
one, and knew her own matched it. "But we have to try."  She unrolled a
large scale map of the city on the kitchen table and weighted the
corners with random silverware.  "We're the people in this city who 
know Shinji best, we should have some chance of figuring out where he
went."

       Yan grimaced at the map.  "Maybe.  Well, he left his ID, so
there's no way he could have left town on an intercity train."  He
paused and nodded at Misato's bedroom.  "Ditto for a bus, depending on
how much cash he had on him."

       Misato shook her head.  "He wouldn't, but I checked anyway.  He
hasn't gotten a paycheck yet either."

       "So he's down to pocket change.  That simplifies things a bit."

       "That still leaves a lot of ground to cover."  Sousuke noted,
mentally removing the residential districts for lack of friendly
contacts, and hotels for lack of money from consideration,
as well as the insides of the shopping streets and restaurants in the
area.  "It would be useful to call in support."

       "No can do."  Misato answered grimly.  "The minute we call in
Section Two it becomes official, with official consequences. I'd like 
to avoid that as long as possible."

       "Ok, then there we have it." Yang turned to Mana and Sousuke.
"You two start on Downtown, I'll take the East block."

       And so it began.  After splitting up at the station, the four
combed their respective areas, using the train lines to move from point
to point in their search.  It was towards the end of the night, as the
train passengers thinned out, that Mana noticed several people asleep 
in their seats.  Fairly safe, of course, but seriously annoying when 
they woke up.  They could easily have been aboard for hours, going 
around and around...

       She removed the small radio from her purse slowly, and depressed
the transmit key as she turned the thought over in her mind.

       "Urzu Two, Four here.  'Hiro' had to have used the train in
order to get into town, right?"  she confirmed, using Shinji's
unofficial codename.

       "Unless he wanted to drag that duffel bag of his with him down
the street."  Yan agreed.

       "Ok, but what if he got on the train, and -never got off?-"

       Eleven stops later, one disgruntled Eva pilot was sighted on
board a Green line train by Misato.  Following her quarry to the next 
stop, she was met by Mana and Sousuke, soon joined from the Red line by
Yan.  The two junior soldiers took up watch on their wayward charge, 
and a great sigh of relief was heaved by all.

----------

       That was five hours ago.  In that time Shinji had left the 
train, visited a 100 yen movie theater, and hopped a late bus for the
mountains outside town before wandering around and winding up at the 
campsite of the class lunatic.  Mana's patience was thin enough to 
shave her legs with.  She depressed the transmit switch on her 
earpiece, the next check in wasn't for another fifteen minutes, but 
they were on a clock.

       "Two, I don't think these guys are morning people."

       "It's still early yet, Four."  Yan answered, sounding
disgustingly crisp in spite of the hour.

      "Yes Sergeant, but we need him back within the next hour or we
face serious problems."  Sousuke pointed out.  "Travel time back to 
base is nearly fifty minutes."

      A few seconds of silence on the radio answered him, before Yan
spoke again.  "All right.  Use your discretion, but he needs to be in
mint condition.  Two out."

      The pair wasted no time in leaving their hide and ghosting over 
to the campsite.  While Mana scanned back over their route, Sousuke
reached inside his jacket and removed a cylindrical object, the bright 
'ting' of the clip being released snapped Mana's head back around too 
late.  The searing light glowed even behind her hastily closed eyelids, 
while the ear popping boom ruffled her hair.

      "Ok, that's just excessive."  Mana complained once her ears quit
ringing.

      "It was this or taser him."  Sousuke grunted as he dragged a
twitching Shinji out by his ankles.

----------

       Light streamed through the cracks between the blinds as Shinji
blinked and rustled under his sheets.

       "What in the world?" he said to the empty room.

       Slowly, he roused himself, still trying to connect his last
memory of bedding down in Kensuke's tent with waking up in his room in
Misato's apartment.  Deciding to make the best of it for the moment, he
shuffled into the bathroom for his morning ablutions, before changing
into his school uniform and making for the kitchen.

       Misato was waiting for him, fully dressed for a change, at the
table with a pot of coffee and what looked like a stack of square 
hockey pucks on a plate.

       "Good morning, Shinji.  Sleep well?"  she asked nonchalantly,
sipping at her mug.

       "Yes. Very."  Shinji replied tightly.

       "Good."  Misato nodded.  "I'm glad your adventure didn't have 
any permanent effects.  Grab a seat."  She waited until he did as he 
was told, and continued "Corporal Sagara apologizes for using a stun
grenade, he saw no other way to remove you without rousing Kensuke as
well and breaking cover.  He'll probably be by later to tell you
personally. I've also called all of you in sick and gave those two the
day off."  She sipped again to compose her thoughts.  "So, to the real
question.  Do you want to be here or not?"

       Shinji started in surprise.  "I..." he began, before he shook
his head  "It doesn't matter what I want.  It wouldn't change anything
anyway, since I'm the only pilot you have, I have no choice." He
shrugged. "Besides, everyone says..."

       Misato cut him off.  "Go home, Shinji."

       "But..."

       She overrode his protest.  "Your bags are in the foyer, we left
them packed.  You can be on the train out in an hour.  If the only
reason you're here is on your father's and my orders, then we don't
need you."  She leaned forward to meet his eyes.  "You've done your 
duty and then some.  Rei will be ready in less than a week, and Eva-01
was her ride to begin with, Dr. Akagi would just have to swap a few
configuration files.  And we can set you up with a severance package,
of course."  Misato sat back and sighed.  "I won't lie, losing a pilot
will hurt us, but better that than having a pilot as insecure as you 
seem to be."

       Shinji sat, stunned.  He'd expected many things when he'd woken
up back in his room here, most of them beginning with a royal ass
chewing, but this was -nowhere- on the list.  "Oh...ok."  He said
softly as he rose from the table.  "I'll go, if that's what's best."
He continued tonelessly.

       Misato would later claim that at that moment she could feel her
temper let go, and it was all she could do to restrain herself from
reaching out and shaking her roommate like a rag doll.

       "God DAMN it, Shinji!" She slammed her coffee mug down, sloshing
out most of the contents, as she rose to her feet as well. "I have -
had- it with your passive-agressive..." she struggled a moment before 
she exhaled an angry breath and continued more calmly to the wide-eyed
boy.  "I'm not giving orders.  You can leave, -if- you wish, right now.  
But if you do, do it because its what you truly want, not because of 
what I think."  Misato sat back down, after checking the coffee hadn't
spilled into her chair, and reached for a napkin to mop up the remainder.

       "But...I'm part of your job." Shinji finally replied in 
confusion.  "That's why I'm living here in the first place, isn't it?  
And why Sagara and Kirishima are right next door?" he continued, more 
than a little bitterness.

       Misato nodded, both in acknowledgement, and because his look of
betrayal during the previous day's confrontation in the locker room
finally made sense.  "All of that's true.  But not the whole truth."
She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Pen-Pen's fridge.  "You've been
here long enough, exactly what is Pen-Pen good for?"  She smiled
slightly at his look of surprise.  "Not much, right?  Why do you think 
I keep him, then?"

       Shinji shrugged in confusion.  "I don't know."

       "He was a test subject at NERV Germany while I was there a few
years ago.  They would've put him to sleep if I hadn't adopted him, so
I felt sorry for him, sure." she replied softly  "But, also, I've 
always lived alone.  And so I thought that it would be nice to have 
someone there, waiting for me to come back.  To have a family."  Misato
snorted slightly at herself.  "There's plenty of apologies to go around
for everyone in this mess, but I'll start by saying I'm sorry you
believed I only wanted you to live here for convenience, or from pity.
I'm not together enough for that.  So..."  She halted, as tears began
leaking down Shinji's face.

       Shinji's gaze was far away, though on what only he could say.
"I...I don't want to go back."

       Misato Katsuragi had been called many things in the course of 
her career, some of them true, many of them not repeatable in polite
company.  Two expressions were conspicuously absent from the list.  
One, was incompetent.  The other, heartless.  She silently hugged Shinji to her, and waited for him to finish.  Only then did she say:

       "Then don't."

-----------

       Sousuke's gaze appeared to be focused entirely on his
newspaper, not paying any particular attention as he sat several rows 
behind his charge for the day, Rei Ayanami.  Only on closer examination 
did it become obvious that his eyes were constantly moving, taking in
everything his environment presented to him.  It was a stark contrast
to the albino girl, for whom the appearance of disinterest in her
surroundings was in fact the reality.

       Thus it was no surprise that he was the first to notice Misato
and Shinji enter the train car from the street.

       "Sagara, I'm certain I heard myself give you the day off!"
Misato mock glowered from before him as he shot to his feet.

       "Ma'am! Miss Ayanami called to inform us that she would be
proceeding to the Geofront, it seemed prudent to accompany her."
Sousuke reported.  "I apologize for disobeying your instructions."

       "Hm. Well in that case I -suppose- we can forego the court
martial."  Misato nodded consideringly.  "Very well, I'll take it from
here.  You, on the other hand, have a new assignment."

       "I am ready to receive it, Captain!" Sousuke barked.

       Misato's eyes took on a predatory gleam.  "Excellent.  You are 
to return to your apartment as quickly as practical.  Once there, you 
are to contact Petty Officer Kirishima, and proceed with her to the 
dining establishment of her choice, at which point you will buy her ice
cream."

       Sousuke's eyes bugged out in disbelief.  "Captain, I..."

       "Do you understand my instructions, Corporal?"  Misato overrode
him.

       "Yes ma'am, but..."

       "Then you'd best be about it." Misato said with finality as the
train braked to its next stop.

       Sousuke sagged in defeat.  "Yes, Captain."  With that, he folded
his newspaper, and exited with a confused shake of his head.

       After the doors closed behind him, Misato sat down in the seat
next to Shinji and chuckled.  "He's improving, I didn't have to explain
about ice cream this time."  She turned to the car's other occupant.
"Good morning, Rei."

       Rei nodded a fraction of an inch.  "Good morning, Captain
Katsuragi."

       Shinji avoided her level gaze and mumbled his own greetings,
Rei simply nodded and returned to her textbook.

       The rest of the ride passed in silence, Rei silently moving off
on her own errands once the train arrived at the Geofront stop.

       "Is she always like that?"  Shinji asked once she was out of
sight.

       "-I've- never seen otherwise."  Misato replied with a shrug.
"You've been going to school with her for two weeks now, don't you
know?"

       Shinji flinched slightly.  "Well yeah, but I wondered if she's
different outside it."

       Misato considered for a moment before shaking her head.  "No,
I've only been here a little bit longer than you, but I can't think of
a time she's ever even cracked a smile."  She turned the same smile 
that had graced her features dealing with Sousuke on him.  "But why the 
sudden interest?"

       "Well...um..."  Shinji stammered.  "I...if I'm going to be here
permanently I should try to get to know her."

       "Good idea."  Misato replied approvingly.  "Well, I've got her
phone number, so you could always invite her over some evening." she
smirked as Shinji started to relax, and set the hook.  "I could also
find out what she likes for breakfast, if you want." she cooed in a
husky voice.

       "Misato!"  Shinji shouted, face flaming red as outrage and
embarrassment warred across it.

       "You're too easy."  Misato laughed. "Ah, here we are."  They'd
stopped outside the entrance to the hospital wing of Central Dogma.
Misato turned a more serious expression to Shinji when he looked back
from the signboard announcing this fact.  "Ok, this should've been
done when you got here, but it seems to have been lost in the shuffle."  
At Shinji's quizzical look, she continued.  "All senior staff in Nerv 
are equipped with a beacon as a preventive measure against kidnapping.  
If you're going to be piloting on a permanent basis you need one as
well."

       Shinji's expression hardened.  "So its a homing tag.  Like you
use on wild animals."

       "More or less."  Misato agreed.  "Listen, Shinji.  It sucks, I
won't lie.  But there are very good reasons for it..."

       "Like keeping me from leaving the reservation?"  Shinji replied
bitterly.

       "Like keeping you alive!"  Misato snapped.  "Nerv wasn't the
only group working on superweapons like the Evas even before the Angels
returned.  There are even more now.  Any of them would be delighted to
have a confirmed pilot.  Even if you don't really know much about Nerv
yet, you're still a valuable commodity just for that.  Some of them
are in places with less than savory reputations for human rights.  You
follow?"

       Shinji nodded slowly.

       "The offer I made before still stands, Shinji.  You'll be giving
up your freedom if you do this.  Its up to you if the job is worth it."

       Misato looked away while Shinji considered.  Finally, he sighed.
"Ok, how does it work?"

       "That's about the only good news.  The tag is about the size of
a piece of gum, it's inserted through an incision in between two ribs
and sits behind the sternum.  Takes about an hour.  After that, Nerv is
always close to your heart."  Misato smirked crookedly.

       Shinji winced. "Then let's get this over with."

----------

       Rei Ayanami paced the corridors of Nerv HQ, navigating the maze
that was Central Dogma as though she'd been born in it.  A scattering
of techs and admin personnel flickered across her view as she made her
way to the locker room.  Though she kept her day planner scrupulously 
up to date, she had no need to consult it to know she was scheduled for 
a mock battle with Pilot Trainee Roberts in thirty-two minutes, 
followed by a physical therapy session, and possibly the removal of the 
'soft' cast she'd been wearing for the past week after her original was
unnecessary.  Following that, she would return to school for the 
remainder of the day.  It was a schedule much like the one she'd been 
following for most of her life, and barring the occasional perturbation
she fully expected it to continue for the forseeable future.

       It's architect chose that moment to come into view, flanked two
steps behind and to the right by the greying but spry Deputy
Director Fuyutsuki as they made their way to the command deck.  Rei's
expression brightened in anticipation as she bowed politely.

       "Good morning, Director.  Deputy Director."

       "Good morning, Rei."  Fuyutsuki answered with a smile.  "You're
looking well."

       "Thank you, sir."  She nodded.

       "All is well then?"  Gendo Ikari asked

       "Yes, sir."  Rei replied in what was, for her, a cheerful tone.
"The new pilots are improving at an adequate rate."  She grudgingly
admitted, seeing no reason to add anything concerning her own status.
He would certainly know, or in the unlikely event he didn't, inquire.

       "Rei, we've had this discussion." Ikari chastened "They are
necessary, for now."

       Rei frowned minutely.  "I understand, Director."

       "Excellent.  I trust you'll be available for lunch?"  He
favored her with a small paternal smile.

       Her expression brightened further.  "Of course, sir."

       "Until then."  Ikari nodded, and moved off with Fuyutsuki,
apparently continuing their previous conversation.  She wrestled her
attention back to the task at hand, and with a smooth countenance
returned to her path.

----------

       "So anyway, they just got in a model of the Fearless, and it's
even been updated to conform to her newest refit!"  Kensuke chattered
excitedly.  "It's gonna be so cool, I can't wait to get it tomorrow."

       "No kidding."  Toji snorted.

       Kensuke gave him a sidelong look through his glasses.  "Hey, I
don't mention your hobbies, leave mine alone."

       "All I'm sayin' is that mine don't involve paint fumes eating
holes in my brain." Toji replied nonchalantly.

       Kensuke nodded.  "True, I can see how hanging around a bunch of
sweaty guys is a lot healthier.  Probably a lot more interesting for
you too."

       "Hey!"  Toji shouted, drawing a few stares as they wandered down
the street towards their neighborhood.  In one of those odd 
coincidences that life scatters with abandon, their families had moved 
into their apartment complex on the same day, and their parents had 
sent them off together to stay busy and out of trouble.  Five years 
later, they still did as much together as they had that day.  The out 
of trouble part had been somewhat less successful.

       Kensuke snickered.  It hadn't hurt that Toji hadn't gotten any
harder to bait since then either.  He glanced at a small blue sports
car parked at the curb, and looked again more closely when he noticed 
the Nerv transponder tag hanging from the rearview mirror.  'Odd time 
for someone to be out, they don't change shifts for another four 
hours.' He mused, before Toji's whistle pulled him away from his study.

       "Man, you've gotta see this!" Toji exclaimed.  "Check out the
babe at the checkout line!"  Kensuke complied, and let out a low
whistle of his own.  Long, flowing hair so dark it looked purple-blue,
excellent legs, narrow waist and, he saw as she turned from the
register, a rack worthy of the rest of the package.  It was no surprise
it took a few seconds to register she had a companion.

       "Oh, you two."  Shinji greeted woodenly.  "You shop here too?"

       "Uh, yeah."  Toji replied distractedly.  "Sometimes..."

       Kensuke gave a small shake and returned to his senses.  "Do it."
he murmured as he nudged Toji.

       Toji grimaced, before squaring his shoulders and announcing in
a painfully earnest voice, "Ikari, I was an idiot."

       Shinji stared, while Misato's brown eyes twinkled.

       "I had no call for hittin' you that day to begin with, and
after what I saw yesterday I'm even dumber than I thought."

       "And that takes work."  Kensuke supplied, to a smirk on the
part of both his listeners.

       Toji ignored him completely.  "So, I wanna square the books."
He lifted his chin defiantly and continued.  "Belt me one."

       Shinji's jaw dropped.  "HUH?!"

       "Slug me.  I've got it coming, I'm serious."

       Shinji and Misato shared an 'Is this guy for real?' look,
Kensuke dropped his face into his palm.

       "You're sure about this."  Shinji confirmed after Misato
shrugged.

       "Definitely."

       Shinji shook his head in resignation and drew his fist back.
"Ok, but only one."

       He was just about to throw his punch when Toji signalled for a
pause.  "And Ikari, make it count."

       Shinji smirked, and let his fist do the talking.


NERV-4
Karamay
9:00 PM Local Time

       Nami Lin cursed herself for a coward.  Here she stood, next to a
boy she'd worked with day in and day out for weeks, who she was 
reasonably sure liked her, and she didn't have the guts to push the 
issue.  Some brave defender of mankind she was turning out to be.

       The object of her deliberations was standing staring out at the
skyline as she arrived at the bus stop for their respective rides.
Probably totally unaware of what his mere existence was doing to her
placid, understanding disposition.  It was enough to make her want to
grab him by the collar and shake him until his brains rattled.

----------

       Han Fei was at the moment in his own world.  One that didn't
include Evas, and entry plugs, and simulated mayhem.  Plug suits 
figured rather prominently, however.  As did a certain short brunette.  
It is then perhaps forgivable that it took a couple tries before the 
voice speaking his name outside his head separated from the one inside
enough to prompt a response.

----------

       "Hello Nami." he replied at last, giving no sign he'd
just forcibly rejoined reality.

       "Finally!" she glared with obvious impatience. "I said I'm
thinking about putting in some highlights.  What do you think?"

       "What color?"

       "Not blonde, that'd just look wierd, maybe red?" she answered
after some thought.

       Han booted his mental photo editing suite and made the
adjustments, oblivious to Nami's reddening slightly under his
scrutiny.  After a few seconds, he nodded judiciously.  "That could 
work.  But Tzu will pitch a fit, never mind your Dad."

       "Yeah, I'll have to wait until I'm in Tokyo.  They can't
complain there.  After all, Ayanami's hair is -blue- for heaven's sake!"

       "True."  Han chuckled  "Well, if you need an accomplice, you
know who to call."

       The bus rolled up with an electric whine and a soft squeal of
its brakes.  It could be said that Nami took a cold, logical look at 
her current feelings, planned a course of action, and executed it with
confidence.  One would be lying outrageously, but it -could- be said.

       Though considering Han's poleaxed expression as her lips drew
back from his cheek and she hopped aboard the bus and gave a cheerful
"Thank you!", spontinaety had its points too.


Nerv-3
Boston
August 4, 2015
6:30AM Local Time

       The topic of discussion at breakfast, as it had been for the
three days since the new training arrangements, were the many and
varied deficiencies of one Asuka Soryu-Langley.

       "God as my witness, if I have to listen to another of those
'how great am I' speeches I'm going to start tearing my hair out!"  
Tessa fumed as she viciously assaulted her hash browns.

       Sam growled agreement. "I hear that.  But I'm surprised you
still listen to those.  I've just been tuning them out for the past 
couple days."

       "How?  I tried severing the connection and her -and- Mao nearly
took my head off.  I think it displays somewhere if you cut the link,
and the volume controls are useless."

       Sam grinned.  "But if you switch your microphone to push-to-
talk instead of voice activated, then you can make as much noise as you
want.  I've been using Christmas music lately."

       Tessa dropped her face into her palm and groaned.  "So you've
been singing 'Deck the Halls' during what's supposed to be a mission
briefing?!"

       "I felt festive."  Sam cheerfully agreed.  "And now that I've
spilled my deep dark secret, I don't suppose you know how to hotwire
the fire control system?" Sam asked half-facetiously.  "I've been all 
over the weapons and fire control subsystem menus, and nowhere is there 
an option to set them to manual control."

       "Why in the world would you want to do that?"  Tessa asked with
a confused expression.  "I didn't think using the Force was quite your
style."

       Sam snorted.  "True enough, but as good as the computer is out
at kilometer or two, up close, where our weapons are actually -
effective- having to wait that extra second or so is a big 
disadvantage.  Especially the way -those- two move.  So I figure since 
I can't do any worse..."

       Tessa pursed her lips in thought for several moments.  "You're
sure there's nothing in the weapons menus?"

       "Checked it twice."  Sam confirmed.

       "Then pop the breaker."

       "Say again?"

       "You can simulate a fire control computer failure by popping
breaker..."  she thought a moment "seven-alpha.  Before you do that
though, make sure to switch to internal guns and kill any zoom or image
enhancement.  When the OS detects an abrupt connectivity loss from
that system it tends to hang a couple seconds, switching off those
processes speeds things up a bit.  When it comes back, all weapons will 
be fixed in boresight mode.  Which is what you wanted."

       "Huh."  Sam scratched at an eyebrow as he considered.  "Well,
it can't hurt to try.  Thanks."

       She waved him off.  "Its not a problem.  Drill an extra couple
rounds into Soryu and I'll call it even."

       "Your wish is my command." Sam intoned gravely.

----------

       Now, hours later, she crept through a valley in a low crouch,
scanning by eye and radar for her foe, Tessa used a different
modification to her fire control.  She knew full well she lacked
the skill or hundreds of hours of trigger time needed to aim manually
at range the way Sam planned, so a brute force shutdown of the
computer was out.

       Fortunately, she had a cunning plan.

       At the end of the day there were usually one or two hours of
more or less free time before lights out.  Tessa had long had the habit 
of wandering the facility during that time while Sam studied; she was a
familiar sight in the observer gallery of the Eva bays or in the small
cube farm where a trio of software engineers did on-site tweaks of the
operating system.  While they hadn't been able to reveal much about
their project's inner workings, it was a place to start.  And as
Archimedes supposedly said, 'Give me a lever and a place to stand, and
I can move the world.'

----------

       Shinji too crept along, about half way up the wall of the
valley, tracking Eva 03's radars as they probed relentlessly for him.
However, shielded as he was by the solid rock of the ridge he sheltered 
behind, it had little chance of succeeding.  He carefully shifted 
himself to his next observation spot, and waited for the opportune 
moment.

----------

       Tessa wasn't concerned by her radar's lack of effectiveness
because she wasn't paying much attention to it.  Mao's advice from her
own experiences, as well as the series of drubbings both Soryu and
Ayanami had given them all the past few days, had made it blindingly
obvious that keeping her eyeballs outside the plug and off her
instrument panel was the way to go.  Right now, she was far more
concerned with the fact that it was on at all, since while the Evas
were perhaps the least stealthy weapons ever designed by Man, there
was no point in adding to the problem.

       'Ok, now if I was an Ikari, what would I do?'  She pondered.
'Historically, the answer to that is 'whatever my enemy -doesn't- want
me to do' so for this Eva that means in close.  Unfortunately, in this
terrain that's not difficult' She muttered, eyeing the craggy valley
with distaste.

       She understood, and to a point agreed with, the rationale the
Eva's designers had had for deleting the twin 120mm pistols from the
American Evas in order to save weight for additional Maverick guided
missiles.  And they certainly had a point that an Eva designed for
surface to orbit defense and marksman work had no business in a knife
fight. She just wished her machine had been better equipped for one in
the 'unlikely' event of it occurring.

       'Like the way the Chinese units' head mounted autocannons are
able to swivel and fire straight behind.'  Tessa smiled briefly,
remembering how Fei had given Ayanami a nasty surprise by doing just
that during one episode of their joint training.  Alas, the American
unit's weapon in that position was fixed to fire forward, and 'only' a
30mm Gatling.

            //Anthrax "Pipeline" _Attack of the Killer B's_//

       The AT field alarm screamed its warning moments before a purple
streak appeared as predicted.  Raising her own field, Tessa attempted 
to execute the diving shoulder roll Mao had taught them for this 
situation, which if done properly would take her clear of Eva-01's 
attack and, ideally, in a position to return fire into its back
as it turned to reengage.  The shuddering crash that shook the
simulator was not part of the plan.  True, she had the dive down pat,
and was well clear of immediate danger.  The 'tuck under and use the
momentum to roll back onto your feet' part was another story, and only
the fact that Shinji had over committed himself in his attack saved
her from being swiftly dismembered.  Tessa dragged her dusty, dented 
Eva to its feet and readied her rifle, seeing Shinji had reacted with
impressive grace in turning an overshot approach into the setup for a
pistol duel.   Only to end up staring down the barrel of an assault
rifle.  One with a ballistics computer that had had its workload
reduced from literally hundreds of factors to a mere handful by virtue 
of a series of tedious, but fruitful, setting selections. And at the
owner's finger already tensing on the trigger.

       The eruption of tungsten fury never came.  The two pilots
stared at the crushed portion of the rifle's casing running from the 
barrel shroud to the breech, and then at each other.  Shinji reacted 
first by fractions of a second, leaping to the side to escape the burst 
of 30mm shells and the four heavy missiles rumbling in their wake, and 
drawing his pistol before he hit the ground.  Tessa sidestepped as she 
fired, though none of the five hundred rounds in her Gatling's magazine 
were tracers, their path was obvious in the shadows cast by the valley
walls.  The glowing stream of them seemed to attach itself to Eva-01's 
left forearm for an instant before being left behind by its maneuvers,
though not without leaving mangled armor and a ruined knife hand 
behind.

       Reduced to its pistol now, Eva 01 lined up and rapped out a pair
of two shot bursts, disabling it's opponent's left shoulder joint but
missing the center of mass shot he'd hoped for.  Another volley of
missiles answered him, as Shinji once again took evasive action in what
was rapidly degenerating from a battle of maneuver into a bare knuckle
slugging match.

----------

       "Damn Damn Damn" Shinji cursed in a monotone, watching his
pistol click empty.  Sensing victory in it's grasp, Eva 03 halted to 
take advantage of Shinji's need to change weapons, and locked on its
missiles instead of firing them unguided in an attempt to herd him into 
its Gatling fire.  At this range, barely 500 meters, dodging out of 
their kill zone wouldn't be difficult, but the salvo right behind it 
would be another story.

       Shinji took a long, deep breath of LCL and made a decision.

----------

       Eva 03 fired.  Shinji immediately dodged to the left, and
charged.  Caught off guard, Tessa swiveled back around and opened
fire.  Ducking the stream, Shinji closed to two hundred meters, and
used his ace in the hole.

       Eva 01's  shoulder hardpoints each split and opened to either
side to reveal a trio of exhaust ports.  Designed originally as a
system to boost overloaded UN transports from small runways, the 
rockets had more than enough juice to change a seven hundred ton Eva's 
headlong charge into a thing of an eyeblink.

----------

       Tessa clambered from her plug, absently rubbing the spot where
the prog knife had entered, and decompressed her suit.  Noting Mao's
absence in the control booth, she felt her abdominal muscles clench as
her imagination conjured reasons why.  Bile churning in her guts, she
made her way from the room.

----------

       Melissa lay in wait outside the locker rooms, casually leaning
against the wall beside the door.  At the padding of Tessa's plugsuited
feet, her head swiveled like the turret of a tank to deliver a stare
that froze Tessa's spine from fifteen paces.  Then, incongruously, she
smiled.

      "Well done."  She eased off the wall and closed the distance.
"If his sync ratio weren't so much higher, you might've nailed him."

      Tessa was still adjusting to the Sergeant Major's quickchange,
and could only provide a half hearted  "But..."

      "What, you thought I'd be pissed you couldn't take a combat
veteran after only three weeks of training?"  Melissa asked with a
glint of amusement in her eye.  "Be serious.  It'd be a miracle if -
you- could even after you're fully trained."

      The emphasis wasn't lost on its receiver.  "Me?"

      "Well, Roberts has a fighting chance against the others as long
as he's smart enough not to let them get close.  Which is debatable."
She added after a moment.  "And what I've seen of the Chinese indicated
they'll be pretty capable, Lin especially."  She shrugged "But you're
probably smarter than than the rest of the newbies put together, and
you haven't come up with a way to use your talents to effect?"  Melissa
shook her head and sighed in resignation.  "I suppose I shouldn't have
expected so much of you."

      Tessa gaped in shock, before her anger began to overwhelm it.
Nearly quivering with outrage and indignation, she answered "I'm sorry
to be such a disappointment, ma'am." her voice taut as a bridge cable
"I will certainly apply greater effort in the future."

      "That's good to hear."  Mao replied pleasantly, and set the
final barb.  "For the record I have my doubts, but who knows, perhaps 
the horse will sing."  With that, she breezed down the hall, leaving a
steaming Tessa behind.

      It was several minutes before Tessa trusted herself to speak.
"Fine then" she snarled as she unsealed her plugsuit and headed for the
showers.


Tokyo 3
August 6, 2015
6:00 PM Local Time

      Shinji Ikari was sweating bullets.  The bleak grey walls 
reflected his estimate of his chances of leaving this room alive as he 
stared once again into a set of crimson eyes.  As he frantically 
searched for an escape route, a smug portion of his mind insisted on 
exercising its hindsight perogative.

----------
Earlier

      Several boys relaxed on the bleachers bordering the school track
and soccer field, enjoying the shade provided by a combination of
several midsized oak trees and a corrugated steel canopy.  Ignoring
his two fellow loafers' banter next to him, Shinji gazed into space in 
the general direction of the school fence, lost in thought.  Alas, his
companions had other plans.

      "Ikari?  Yo, Ikari!"  Toji waved a hand in his line of sight.

      "Huh?"

      "What'cha looking at so hard?"  Toji questioned as he peered past
Shinji to where he'd just been staring.  "You going deaf or something?"

      "I think its more he had better things to do than listen to us."
Kensuke weighed in.  "If you get me."

      Toji smirked.  "Somethin' to that." he added as he inched his
head a bit lower and caught sight of the school pool past the edge of 
the canopy.  "So, which one was it?"

      "Which what?"  Shinji asked suspiciously.  Granted the pair had
been a lot more friendly the past few days, but...

      "Which girl, man!"  Toji exclaimed.  "Come on, dish!"

      "But I..."  Shinji protested.  Inevitably, two of the three girls
in view were Ayanami and Mana, plus some other girl who looked pissed
at the world for some reason.

      "Wha'dya you think, Kensuke?  Ayanami or Kirishima?"  Toji
considered.  "We can rule Chidori out, unless Shinji's into S&M."  He
shivered theatrically.

      "Safe bet."  Kensuke agreed, the stories about the 'prettiest
girl no one dared to date' were legendary.  "I'd say Kirishima 
personally, but..."  he trailed off invitingly.

      "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said neither."  Shinji
commented, without real hope.

      "Nope."  Toji answered  "But as I was sayin', Ayanami might be a
choice.  They're both pilots an' all.  Bit sullen for me though." he
finished thoughtfully.

----------

      Shinji would normally have dismissed the whole thing with the
rest of the nonsense that pair generated, but something about it just
wouldn't die.  Once the final bell rang, he gathered up his laptop and
accessories and filed out with the rest of the class.   It was cleaning
day for him, so he made for the janitor's closet instead of the 
entrance.

  'Finally.' he sighed in relief.  Shinji began stacking the chairs
and desks aside so he could sweep the floor.  The other student 
assigned that day, a tall brunette whose name he didn't know, came in 
with a bucket of soapy water and a rag and began wiping down the 
chalkboard.  Shinji tuned out her humming and let the repetitive 
motions relax him.  He always enjoyed chores like this that let him 
turn off his brain for a while, and now more than ever he figured he 
deserved a little time to zone out.  After this, he would have yet 
another training session to deal with, and his roommate's housekeeping 
into the bargain after.  And, he realized with a sigh, it was Misato's 
turn to cook.

     'Maybe Sgt. Jongkyu will take pity on me.' he grimaced wryly as
he finished sweeping.  He saw the girl had been following behind 
mopping and was almost done herself, and stood aside while she finished.

     "Thanks for your help." he said quickly, before leaving with his
supplies and missing her disappointed pout.

----------

     As expected, Shinji found Sousuke and Mana waiting for him by the
shoe lockers, Mana with her back towards him while she argued about
something with Sousuke.

     'No doubt I'll hear about it in detail in a minute.' he thought
as he twisted the latch to his locker.

       The echoes faded before the smoke cleared, Mana's mouth still
open in preparation to shout a warning a second too late.  The
florescent smoke slowly settled to the floor and walls, revealing
a now Day-Glo orange Shinji Ikari still frozen in shock.

      "Damn it Sousuke!  I told you!"  Mana turned and bellowed at her
accomplice. "That thing is more dangerous to us than the enemy!"

      "Had Pilot Ikari been properly informed of the addition it would
not be a problem."  Sousuke responded calmly.

  "And whose job was that?"  Mana asked caustically

      "Mine, which I was detained from performing by a person who
shall remain nameless."

      Shinji chose that moment to turn from his brief trip to his
Happy place and ask in a shellshocked voice "What just happened here?"

      Mana rolled her eyes heavenward and waved at Sousuke.  "Go on,
let's see if it makes sense when I hear it again."

      Sousuke nodded cordially, most likely missing the sarcasm
entirely. "I recently realized that the shoeboxes of this school are a
significant security risk, I apologize for this oversight.  The space 
is large enough to fit a directional mine such as a Claymore or similar
device, wired to activate upon opening the door. To correct this, I
elected to install a countermeasure."

      "You...boobytrapped my shoebox."  Shinji repeated in the same
voice.

      "As well as Ayanami's, mine and Kirishima's." Sousuke added with
quiet satisfaction

      Shinji turned to Mana "And you knew about this."

      "Shinji, I..."  Mana began

      Shinji closed his eyes "I don't think I want to see either of you
right now."  With that, he turned, and walked slowly away.

----------

       Sousuke watched the boy trudge away in silence.  Mana turned to
him, obviously torn.

      "Should we let him go like that?"

      "I think we'd better."  He noticed Shinji's bag laying where it
had fallen after its owner's ambush and retrieved it on the way out the
door.  "Come.  We still have a duty, no matter how badly we've erred."
he called over his shoulder as he took up overwatch on the pilot.

      Mana nodded, and followed.

----------

      Shinji tried to ignore the looks he was getting on the street as
he headed to the train station, but it was no picnic.  The mothers 
pulling their small children out of his way were hard to take.  The 
slightly older kids asking him which gang he was in were worse.

      "This isn't going to work.  I'm going to need more than a
convenience store bathroom to get this crap out of my hair, never mind
my shirt." he grimaced at it's festive new color, which had been
extremely resistant to the plain soap and water he'd tried on it, and
the stiffness in his hair that told him it looked much the same.  "At
this rate I'm gonna get arrested."  He paused at an intersection and
thought.  Misato would be back from the Geofront by now, and explaining
this was more than he could take right now.  The terrible two were
probably back in their apartment as well, so that was out for the same
reason.  Which left...who?

      "I don't know where Toji or Kensuke live, and as for anyone
else..." he sighed.  He looked aimlessly around, before frowning in 
thought.  Ayanami comes from this direction when they walked to school.  
And from his map memorization he knew there were only two apartment 
complexes in this area, and one was in exactly the wrong direction.

      "Well," he worried a piece of his lower lip between his teeth as
he considered.  "when you're at the bottom of a hole...."

----------

      'Then -you- start digging.' the same corner of his mind finished
the saying in a less orthodox if more appropriate fashion.  The rest
of it had no attention to spare.

      "Move, please." a soft, cool voice intruded on his meltdown.  His
reply jammed in his throat as he began to comply, and realized just
where his left hand had landed to break his fall.

      Unconcerned at his catapult-like leap backwards, Rei stood as
well, picked up the offending eyewear that caused the problem in the
first place, and after replacing it on the nightstand began to quickly
and efficiently dress.

      "What is it?" she spoke again in the same voice as she completed
the operation and looked at him again.

      "I...um..."  Shinji struggled and finally unjammed his vocal
ability enough to get out  "I left my bag and... my ID somewhere, and
I was hoping you could let me into Central Dogma so I can replace it."
he finished in a rush.  "And maybe borrow some detergent?"

     Rei considered, and nodded agreement.

----------

     Shinji sat on the opposite side of the train car from his
benefactor, and tried not to cringe too hard every time he thought of
her level stare boring into him while he swapped shirts after liberally
dousing his head with soap and isopropyl alcohol to get the worst of
the dye out.

     "Get to know her better."  he thought bitterly while straightening
his poorly fitted borrowed shirt.  "Ask and ye shall receive."

----------

      Rei strode purposefully towards the Geofront gate, anxious to be
done with this errand.  Unfortunately, the boy behind her decided to
make conversation.

     "Your activation test is coming up the day after tomorrow, isn't
it?"

     "Yes."  She agreed.  At least it was a relevant topic, she had
never had any interest in the chatter that passed for communication
for most of her schoolmates.

     "Are you worried about it?  I heard about the last one." he
continued quietly

     "No.  I have faith in the Director."  She decided to continue for
curiosity's sake.  "Don't you?"

     Shinji snorted.  "Not a chance."

     Rei froze.  She could -not- have heard that properly.  She slowly
turned to face Shinji and confirm his statement, but the expression of
contempt on his face made it unnecessary.  Cold fury reared within her,
and only the fact Shinji was out of arm's reach prevented her from
expressing it.  After a moment she turned back and continued walking.

     Rei replied in her usual soft, toneless voice. "I see."

----------

     Shinji thanked Rei hurriedly at the gate and entered the Geofront.
Moving at a near run, he quickly reached Central Dogma and the locker
rooms.

     "Still on time, at least -that's- gone right." he gasped as
he reached the door.  Dr. Akagi wasn't one to suffer fools gladly, and
tardiness was much the same in her eyes.  He pushed the door open, and
nearly fell flat on his face.

     "What the?!  Huh!"  his eyebrows rose once he recovered from his
stumble and looked behind him.  There in all its threadbare glory sat
his school bag.  A quick check of the outside pocket revealed his ID,
and a note torn from a pink pocket notebook.  Pocketing the first, he
smiled at the second before changing to his plugsuit for the tests.

----------

     That evening Shinji cleared away the dishes from the table and
tried to ignore Pen-Pen's glare from within his refrigerator.  Shinji's
attempt to pass off his helping of tonight's Misato Special had not
been unnoticed, nor had it been appreciated.

     The chef glanced up after Shinji finished loading the sink and
left to let the dishes soak.

     "So, are you feeling better now?"  she asked before he could
disappear into his room.

     Shinji paused.  "What was the problem?"  he asked warily

     Misato stretched casually at her seat on the couch and took her
time answering.  "Let's just say a little bird told me you had an
interesting day."

     Shinji cringed.  He'd been debating whether or not to mention
-anything- that happened in the last twelve hours, but it looked like
that decision is out of his hands now.

     "Can I say that I -really- don't want to talk about it and move
on?"  Shinji asked plaintively.

     Misato meditated upon that statement's implications.  As far as
she knew, he'd been the unwitting victim of a certain overzealous 
corporal, but that certainly wouldn't explain this reaction. Obviously, 
she told herself, as a responsible commanding officer she needed to 
know about any events that might have a bearing on her subordinate's 
performance.  The fact she was genuinely curious was just a bonus.

     "If you want.  Though if you do I won't have your side of the
story."  she played a hunch and added "Or any extenuating
circumstances."

     That seemed to turn the trick.  Shinji sagged and slouched over
to the other side of the couch and sat down.

      "Ok," he sighed, and began.

----------

     Misato nodded appropriately through the parts she'd already heard
from the Sousuke's excruciatingly thorough report on the incident.

     "Ok, its good you felt able to go to a teammate for help.  So
then what?"  Misato commented when Shinji paused.

     Shinji looked down at his hands and continued.  "I found her
apartment building, and checked each floor until I found a door with
Ayanami on it.  I tried the bell but it was broken, so I knocked and
went in."  He paused and asked  "Did Mana or Sousuke ever tell you
about where she lives?"

     "Ohhhhh yeah." Misato answered grimly

     "Right, so you know what that place is like. I heard the shower
turn off and figure she'll be out shortly, and as I'm waiting I noticed 
a pair of glasses on her nightstand and picked them up.  They had
Father's name on them."  A suspicious redness began creeping across his
cheeks "That was about the time Rei came out of the bathroom."

      Misato chuckled sympathetically.  "And not dressed for company?"

      Shinji blushed redder.  "No."

      "So..."  Misato prodded "You're still in one piece, it can't have
been too bad."

      Shinji grimaced.  "She stared a second, then started walking over
glaring at me all the way.  I apologized and tried to leave, but 
slipped on something she'd left laying on the floor..."

      "And ran right into her." Misato finished, having already
connected the dots.

      Shinji nodded miserably.

      "Well, on a one to ten scale I'd say your day rated about a
negative five.  I take it she gave you something for your problem and
sent you on your way?"  Misato queried, fighting to keep a straight
face.

      "She went to the gate with me, but yes."

      Misato leaned back and considered for a time.  "Well, from what
you said, I don't think she's genuinely angry with you.  She's a pretty
even tempered girl, as you might've noticed."  she noted dryly.

      Shinji snorted slightly.  "Yeah."

      "You'll need to apologize of course, but I think you're in the
clear."

      Shinji smiled wanly.  "You think so?"

      "Pretty sure.  Mardukas told me once she used to spar with the
security staff before she got hurt."  Misato grinned  "No offence, but
if she'd felt seriously angry or threatened she could've tied you up
like a pretzel before you knew what was happening."

      Shinji's eyes widened "Oh."


United Nations Space Command
Panama Territory
August 8, 2015
11:00 PM Local Time

      The console beeped quietly to itself.  The noise was all but lost
among the quiet bustle of the nerve center of the DEW system and
its associated support satellites.

      Specialist 2c Walters set down his mug of green tea and glanced
curiously at the display.  Currently, it displayed a view of a
nondescript wedge of space approximately half a million kilometers
deep by an equal amount wide pointed directly behind Earth's orbital 
track, distinguished only by a small asteroid transiting the area.

      The red line denoting its vector twitched.  Then again, in the
same direction.

      "What in hell..." he wondered aloud, keying open a more detailed
window on the object.

      Seconds later, the master alarms blared, and when the object's
new course was projected he had his answer.


Nerv-4
Karamay
August 9, 2015
8:30 AM Local Time

      Han faked a right at his opponent before changing to a sweep kick
at the last moment.

      Nami rolled with the blow and took advantage of the momentary off
balance moment to land a punishing right of her own to his headgear
before Han could parry.  She'd shuffled back a step and set herself 
when the PA piped an attention tone for several seconds. Director Li's 
dry voice followed the signal.

      "Last night, the next angel was detected on intercept,
estimated time of arrival 2:00PM today. The current landing zone
looks like Tokyo again, but just the same this facility is also going
on alert.  Further updates will be provided as the situation develops.
That is all."

      Han and Nami both turned to Tzu, who had remained aloof 
throughout the morning excepting occasional comments.

      "You are expecting a noble, inspiring speech exhorting you to
uphold your duties, perhaps?"  he asked sardonically "Tend to your
tasks, and others will tend to theirs."  He turned an icy stare on Han
"Such as performing a move like you plan to actually hit something.  I
don't care how good a kiss she gives, you -will- perform this properly
or -I- will go find a forty year old master sergeant and let you try
that so-called kick on -him-."

     Nami went from smirking to bright red in an eyeblink, before both
hurried to comply.


Nerv HQ
Tokyo-3
2:20 PM Local Time

     "Its late."  Misato commented on their target.  "Not considerate
-or- punctual.  It doesn't get much worse than that."

     "I imagine he didn't get many second dates in college."  
Lieutenant Shigeru Aoba cracked wise from his console.

     "Not likely."  Misato agreed when the nervous laughter died.
"ETA?"

     "Another thirty minutes, atmospheric entry in ten."  Makoto
reported.  "Still on course for us."

     "Ok then, sound the alert."

----------

     Rei paused on her way from the simulator.  Moved by an impulse she
didn't wholly understand, she turned and made her way to the Eva bays,
arriving as Eva-01 completed its checklist and began moving to the
catapults.

     While watching it's slow progress, she considered the
Third's known distrust for his father, as well as the
open secret of his nearly being AWOL last week, averted only by the
efforts of a cadre of guards derided by the rest of Nerv Security as
interlopers and amatuers.  Another hour's delay in his arrival at
Captain Katsuragi's residence would have placed him at risk of
termination from the program, in addition to possible criminal
penalties.  Admittedly, given the captain's apparent fondness for the
Third, the latter was unlikely.

      So then, why would he return?  He was not a Pilot born and raised
as she and the Second were.  He was not bound by the desire to destroy
the Angels as their commander appeared to be.  He did not even have the
belief in the Project's ultimate goals that held many of the senior
staff in spite of their own personality conflicts with the Director.

      She stared after the departing Eva, but found no answers.

----------

      Rei entered the control room just as Ikari launched.  Ignoring
the status reports of the bridge staff, she glanced at the monitors
showing Eva-01's progress towards the surface.  Turning her attention 
to those showing the Angel's progress, she noted the octahedral shape 
as being a departure from the norm thus far, and that it had completed 
entry to Earth's atmosphere and was currently five minutes away.

      Turning again to Eva-01, she saw it's pilot had reached the
surface and selected a heavy rocket launcher, a reasonable choice
given Captain Katsuragi's decision to engage outside the city if 
possible, since it had the longest range of the available weapons.  The 
captain gave her final instructions:

      "Remember Shinji, we need to keep it outside the city if 
possible.  As soon as it clears the last foothills, open fire.  And for 
God's sake stay on the move."

      "Understood."  Shinji replied tersely.

      "Then good luck."  Misato cut the link.

      "Trying honey instead of vinegar, Captain?"  Doctor Akagi asked
from her station.

      Misato loftily ignored her friend, and turned to ask Makoto a
question when Aoba burst out "High energy reaction in the target!
Massive rise in gamma radiation output!"

      'Oh HELL'  Misato swore as her hand darted for her earpiece.
"Shinji, it's got a particle beam!  Get moving!"

      Shinji did so with alacrity while simultaneously releasing a trio
of rockets as soon as the Angel came into view.  Ducking behind a row
of warehouses, he changed course and emerged from cover in time to see 
a blinding flash and a series of fireballs, before a searing spear of
fire drove all thought from his mind.

---------

4:00 PM

      Misato opened the meeting.  "Ok, we've taken a hit, but we're not
out of the game yet."  She glanced down at her summary.  "From Eva-01's
experience plus our own tests, we know that the Angel is hard wired
to attack anything that attacks it, manifests an AT field, or moves
within a ten kilometer radius from it.  So far it seems to be content
to sit on top of us and drill, but there's no reason to think it's idle
otherwise."

      Ritsuko was privately impressed.  Knowing what a carefree,
slovenly, general trainwreck her old roommate had been so long ago, and
still was off duty judging from the few times she had visited, Ritsuko
was constantly amazed at the transformation into the stern professional
now presiding at the head of the table.  Bringing her attention back
to the task at hand, she delivered her own report.

      "As Captain Katsuragi stated, the Angel is currently inactive
save for its drilling.  However, it's AT field -is- still up, and in 
fact visible."  She brought up a video clip of one of the test firings 
on the projector screen behind her, showing the ripple effect on the 
angel's image.  "This field is the most powerful to date, and 
successfully resisted the heaviest weapons the defense grid could bring 
to bear."  Another clip, this time of a rail mounted particle cannon 
firing upon the Angel from the edge of the city before being swiftly 
annihilated.  "Thus far, we have not determined what is powering a beam 
of this output, though we have determined it's mechanism for hovering 
is linked to it's AT field."  Ritsuko returned to her seat, quietly 
glad her part was concluded.

      "Which brings us to our assets.  Commander Mardukas?"  Misato
inquired respectfully.  Another thing that intrigued Ritsuko.
Mardukas was a former submariner, of all things, and had been added to 
Nerv last year the then newly reorganized agency's conversion from 
research project to weapons program.  Since then he'd acquired the 
reputation of a man who suffered neither fools nor incompetents, and 
was known to be one of the very few people Gendo Ikari had graced with 
the praise 'satisfactory'

      For all that, he managed to be surprisingly well liked by his
staff, possibly because in the main they were neither and he treated
them accordingly.

      "Thank you, Captain." he replied equally formally.  "As of now,
we are approximately three hours from completing the repairs to Eva-
01's chest armor.  Frankly, we're extremely lucky its a mere remove and
replace operation, the damage nearly reached one of the functional
nodes."  He frowned in Jovian fashion. "Which exhausts all
of the good news.  Eva-00 is still experiencing feedback errors in its
neurosystems, and I have strong reservations about certifying it for
combat even if it were designed for such a thing in the first place.
He flicked a glare at Aoba, currently standing opposite him and author
of that very plan.  "Given the field strength numbers we have, I also
strongly doubt the ability of the Type 20 to have significant effect
on its own, especially given it's origins as a rebuilt Type 12." he
referred to the make of the ill-fated particle cannon used in the
test.

      "But would that be a problem, sir?"  Makoto asked diffidently "If
we can neutralize the AT field, then the shot won't have any
interference."

      Misato nodded to him.  "True, Lieutenant.  But consider that it
takes several seconds for a field to manifest and stabilize.  Maybe
Rei can play tag with the angel long enough to make that shot, I won't 
say she can't.  However."

      Makoto nodded, the point taken.

      "Speaking of."  Misato remarked, bringing the meeting back on
task.  "Pilots."

      "The Third Child is under sedation right now, but his psychograph
checks out within acceptable limits."  Maya answered.  "The First
Child is currently on standby, we've provisionally cleared her for duty
based on her most recent exam."

      'Which was made about half an hour ago.'  Ritsuko added mentally.
'Rei was unusually insistent.'  She tracked the remainder of the
report, which was summed up by it's concluding sentence.  "So any plan 
will have both pilots available for action."

      Misato drummed her fingers on the table and considered aloud.
"Alright then.  So we have about ten hours until this thing finishes
its job with the drill and probably drops a bomb on us.  We have two
available pilots, and the -possibiity- of two Evas to go with them."
She nodded to Mardukas, acknowledging his reservations.  "And both
weapons of choice have been proven ineffective."  she concluded,
remembering the contemptuous ease the Angel had swatted the rockets
out of the sky before turning its attention to Shinji.  "I'm open to
suggestions."

      "I think the cafeteria has a white tablecloth we can borrow."
Makoto replied.  "I know we can find a big enough pole for it
somewhere."  Snorts and snickers ensued from the assembled.

      "We'll take that under advisement."  Misato smiled crookedly.
"But I think there's still a few cards left to play."

---------

     Richard Mardukas was a difficult man to impress.  An officer in
His Majesty's Navy since the Cold War prior to joining the UN, he would
have scoffed at the idea of pulling together a plan of the scope 
Captain Katsuragi had outlined in less than a week, and even that would 
be a rush job.  Four hours into the op, he was ready to admit his 
error.  Thus far, she had browbeaten the JSSDF's procurement division -
and- the Japanese Ministry of Energy, all but confiscated hundreds of
electrical transformer vehicles and their crews, seized every watt of 
output of every powerplant in Japan and, to finish it off, there was 
now a single-stage-to-orbit shuttle that would never fly again 
regardless of what happened tonight.

      'At least if we fail, it won't be for lack of support.' he
commented wryly to himself while he stood in Eva-00's bay overseeing
the last minute work.  Rei announced coolly the current fix was
ineffective, starting another wave of activity at the in-cage 
monitoring consoles and the crews swarming over the Eva's head area.

      "Sir?  The SDF's cannon has arrived.  We've got it enroute to
Bay 15."  Lt. Aoba's voice crackled over the walkie talkie at Mardukas'
belt.  Frowning at the addition of yet another ball to keep in the air,
he replied he was on his way.

      "Miss Ayanami, I'm afraid we've run out of time.  Are you
comfortable with simply disconnecting the left side audio and visual
connections?" he spoke into the handset connecting to the plug.

      "Yes" she replied after a short pause.  "The mission should not
require them."

      "Very well." he answered in relief. "Power down and get some
rest.  We'll get the shield fitted and call you when we need to move 
out."

      "Understood, shutting down."  Rei replied, the Eva slumping
slightly as the muscles lost power.

      Mardukas ran an eye over the readouts and nodded to himself
before leaving the cage crew to their work.

---------

      Shinji drifted hazily upwards, muzzily rising from
unconsciousness into waking.

      "Here again." he groaned once his eyes focused enough to
recognize his least favorite hospital room.  That exhausted his 
curiosity about his surroundings, he spent the next few minutes idly 
wiggling one toe after another as sensation came back in each.

     The door clicking open interrupted his explorations, followed by
a meal cart and his fellow pilot. Silently, she precisely placed
each item on the fold out table of his bed before looking up at him.

     "You should eat before we leave."  she prompted softly.

     "So I do have to go out again."  Shinji sighed, before a critical
word came to his attention.  "Wait, we?"

     Rei nodded.  "Eva-00 has been cleared for use, as have I."  She
withdrew her day planner from the cart and flipped to the correct
page.  "Shall I read the operation schedule?"

     Shinji agreed, wondering whimsically what anyone reading her
planner would think stumbling across that page after reading list after
list of her groceries or something.  She certainly read as if that was
all that the page contained.

     Closing the notebook, she looked back up.  "We leave in one hour.
Be ready by then."  With that, she turned and left.

     Shinji stared after her until the door closed.  Had there been a
trace of satisfaction there when Rei said she'd been cleared for
action?

     "Doesn't matter."  he muttered to himself.  Lifting the set of
chopsticks from the tray, he began to deal with the 'meal' before
him.

----------
1:00 AM

      Misato sipped at a mug of coffee long since cold, listening with
half an ear to her minion's cross checks and status reports as the
final stages of the plan came together.  Against all odds and common 
sense, only a few last minute checks remained before the plan was 
ready.

      'If it can be called a plan to begin with.'  Misato smirked
behind her coffee mug. 'They'd have busted me out of OCS for even 
suggesting this.'

       Laying the empty mug aside, she stepped outside into the warm,
humid night.  After taking a quick turn through the bustle of the
temporary camp, she found her charges sitting out of the way at the
base of the scaffolding used to access the entry plugs.  Under other
circumstances she might've chuckled at Eva-00's shield's suspicious
resemblance to the belly heat shield of a spaceplane, not to mention
the array of scuff marks marring Eva-01's finish.

       Both pilots stood as she approached, waving them back down she
began.  "We're almost ready to begin.  Rei, as you know you'll be in
Eva-00 with the shield.  Shinji, you'll be in Eva-01 with the rifle.
Be careful, the shield is rated for seventeen seconds of exposure to 
the angel's beam -at best- so make the first shot count.

       The pair nodded.  With a minimum recharge time of twenty
seconds on the rifle, the consequences of a miss were obvious.

       "Any questions?"

       The pilots shook their heads negatively.  The procedures had
been explained to them in detail before they left the Geofront.  It was 
a sign of the extreme nervousness Misato felt that she saw a need to do
so again.

       "Good.  You should get ready yourselves."  She smiled wanly.
"And good luck."

       Shinji valiantly tried to return the smile, ending more with a
tight grimace.  Rei merely stood again and walked towards the ladder,
Shinji following behind.

       "So this is it."  Shinji sighed, once they were out of earshot.
"Why do we do this?"  he complained

       Rei was apparently not familiar with the concept of a rhetorical
question.  "A link."

       At Shinji's puzzled look, she clarified "Because it is a link to
others."

       He smirked bitterly. "Like my father?"

       "Among others."  Rei agreed.  "It is all I have.  If I were to
stop, there would be nothing left."  Shinji imagined she gave a tiny
shiver.  "Death would be preferable."

       "Death, huh."  Shinji mused.  "I can understand that.  Before I
came here I wondered what the difference was, sometimes.  Just going
through the motions because I had nothing better to do."

       He looked back over at Rei to find her eyes upon him.  After a
moment, she nodded, as if to herself, and spoke.  "It is time."

       With a last look at the canopy of stars overhead, Shinji
agreed.  As he climbed into his plug's cockpit, Rei called his name.
Turning to meet her, she spoke on last time.

       "Farewell."

---------

           //Within Temptation "Intro" _The Silent Force_//

       Rei tuned out the final countdown broadcast over her radio,
instead focusing on the target thirty kilometers ahead.  Clearly 
visible over the city, it hovered in open defiance of anything the 
defenders cared to attempt against it.  Thus far the only sign it had 
given in the past fifteen minutes was a brief pulse of light around
its equatorial band.

       Settling herself slightly in the seat and checking the 
restraints one last time, she was left with little to do except wait, 
and think.  Her last conversation with Ikari the younger had been 
illuminating, bringing into focus her observations of the connections 
between him and his companions, of the concern Captain Katsuragi showed 
him, and he even more obviously reciprocated.

      'Perhaps it is enough for him.'  Rei mused, while the timer
ticked down.  'Even if he does not realize it.'

       Behind her, a soft thump felt in the soles of her feet indicated
Eva-01's joints had locked, the pilot having switched to induction mode
to concentrate on the fine adjustments needed for this task.
Returning her attention to the target, she hefted the shield that was
all that stood between her and the weapon which had reduced Eva-01 to 
smoking wreckage in moments.  She would fare no better, for Eva-00 was 
as ill-prepared for combat as could be imagined.  Intended as a 
technology demonstrator, it had not been equipped with the layered 
armor and lightweight, high strength skeleton of the test and 
production models.  Instead, it made do with aluminum and steel blanks 
of equivalent weight in place of titanium or depleted uranium and 
ceramics.

      "Rei, we're about to fire.  Get ready."  the Captain's voice
echoed over her helmet earphones.  Laying a pair of fingers on the
glasses case wedged between her thigh and seat, she acknowledged the
reminder with all the equaminity she needed.

       "High energy event in the target!"  Lieutenant Aoba sang out,
before the world went white.

       The JSSDF's laser, rechristened the Type 34, was by any
standard an engineering marvel.  Unlike the Type-12 or -20 weapons of 
Nerv, which used what was essentially a directed nuclear fusion 
reaction to generate their destructive effect, it was based on an older 
technology.  Designed to destroy satellites in geosynchronous orbit, 
over thirty-five thousand kilometers up, it represented the fruits of 
decades of research into fusion power.  Rather than using a solid 
lasing medium as most industrial lasers did, it used a powerful 
magnetic field to contain a superheated plasma.  When it was jolted 
with over one hundred gigawatts of energy harvested from across the 
whole of Japan, the result was the most powerful beam weapon ever 
devised by mankind.

      It was a shame it all went to waste.

      'He missed.'  Rei noted with disappointment.  Shinji was beaten
to the punch by milliseconds, and that made all the difference.  Heat
from the passage of the Angel's particle beam warped the atmosphere 
between the two combatants like a heat mirage over desert sands, the 
targeting computer aboard Eva-01 never had a chance to correct, and the 
result was the beam streaking past the Angel with bare meters to spare.

       Rei had bigger problems.  Her shield held firm against the
onslaught for the moment, but the growing puddle of ablative coating
at her feet told the tale.

----------

       "Comeoncomeoncomeoncomon" Shinji breathed from behind the
display visor that had extended from his seat back after he'd locked 
down for long-range fire.  For once he was thankful for the LCL, 
otherwise his eyes would've burned with sweat as he concentrated on the 
two slowly converging triangles denoting his weapon's readiness.  The 
startled cry over his earphones jerked his gaze away from their 
painfully slow progress in time to see Rei's shield disintegrate at 
last.

       "No..." he gasped as Eva-00's armor immediately began to boil.

       The lines converged.  Less than a heartbeat later, the
Type 34 spoke once more.

----------

        Rei floated between light and dark.

       'This is nothingness.  It is...peaceful.' she thought after an
indeterminate time.  Nothing intruded for a period, before a tug at
her awareness came.  Sensing she was rotating even without visual cues,
she 'turned' to seek it, without success.  Moments later, it prodded 
her again, this time with a whisper of something she couldn't make out.
By now she felt a definite presence, somewhere beyond her sight, but
palpable all the same.  Finally with a sharp jerk, she returned to the
world.  Blearily opening an eye, a blurry figure greeted her 
silhouetted in the emergency hatch.

       'Director...Ikari?' she whispered.  Her eye focused further, and
she saw she was half right.  "Ikari!?" she peered closer "But why are
you so sad?"

        Her rescuer smiled and squatted down beside her.  "Idiot." he
half snorted, half hiccuped as he ran a hand over his eyes.  "I'm not,
I'm just...really glad to see you."

       "Oh." she paused at this revelation.  "I'm not sure what to do
in this situation." she confessed.  "I suppose I should also be glad."

       "Well then smile!"  Shinji suggested while he held out a hand.

       "Yes."  Rei agreed, and did.

-----------

       Shinji froze.  He'd heard the phrase 'time stood still' too many
times to count.  Now, for the first time in his life, he knew what it
meant.  The girl delicately grasping his hand, who he would have sworn
not an hour ago was incapable of emoting, looked up at him with a smile
that for all it's spare simplicity could have lit a stadium.

      "Ikari?"  she questioned.  "Is something wrong?"

      "Oh! Um no, let's go."  he shook himself and eased under her arm
to add support after Rei unlocked her seat restraints.  A solemn look
settled across his face once they'd gotten outside.

      "Ayanami?  Can I ask a favor?"

      She nodded.

      "Please don't say goodbye before a mission."  He looked down in
embarrassment.  "It...just sounds so sad.  We might not have much now,
but ..." he struggled a moment while Rei looked on in surprise.  "I
guess someday we'll be happy we survived this.  Promise me?"

      Rei's soft voice was all but drowned out by the clamor of the
search parties' calls, but Shinji heard just the same.

      "Yes."

-------------------------------------

Author's notes

      If there's one thing that annoys me as a writer, it's rigidly
conforming to a preset scenario.  In fanfiction, a certain amount of
that is inevitable, or else you'd do just as well to change the
labeling and call it an original work, but slavishly transcribing what 
happens on the screen to a page just defeats the whole purpose of 
creative writing to me.  With this in mind, I made a rule for myself 
when I started this project that I would avoid detailed descriptions of
events that occurred in the anime or the manga of either series, or at 
the very least they would be described from a different viewpoint.

      The battle against the Fifth Angel and its setup is one of the,
I hope few, exceptions in that it's so critical to the development of
several key characters that I can't just gloss over it and focus on
the aftermath the way the previous one could be, nor could I let 
someone else do the exposition since much of the relevent dialogue is
internal.  Hopefully, I've managed to make this chapter read as more 
than a transcript of Episodes 5 and 6 in spite of that.

      And that said, here's what everyone's really been reading this
Far for, the soundtrack:

Opening theme: Pat Benatar "Invincible" _Greatest Hits_
    Line  726: Anthrax "Pipeline" _Attack of the Killer B's_
    Line 1576: Within Temptation "Intro" _The Silent Force_
 Ending theme: Joe Satriani "Big Bad Moon" _Time Machine_

==========
From: Tabasco <83drew@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.creative
X-Original-Date: Thu, 21 Feb 2008 17:07:57 -0800 (PST)
Subject: [Eva/FMP][FanFic] But Loyal to Their Own: Chapter 4

                  Furry Pigeon Productions presents:

              But Loyal To Their Own:  An Evangelion Elseworlds
                            By Andrew Lewis

          Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
          Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
            Han Fei and Samuel Roberts copyright the author
         Special guest star Ichiro Ohgami copyright Ohji Hiroi
           All characters once again used without permission

Chapter 4- Back in the USSR

Do unto the other feller the way he'd like to do unto you, an' do it
fust [sic].
-- E. N. Westcott, 'David Harum.'

As a fighter pilot I know from my own experiences how decisive surprise
and luck can be for success, which in the long run comes only to the one
who combines daring with cool thinking.
-- General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.


NERV HQ
Tokyo-3
August 26, 2015
7:30 AM Local Time

      Misato Katsuragi lounged against one wall of Dr. Akagi's office, 
watching her blonde friend pore over her terminal.

      "Ritsuko."  she prodded.  Her friend continued to type 
intermittently.  "Ritsuko, something's happened."  Misato continued in
a calm voice.

      No response.

      "I'm pregnant."  Misato confided.

      Nothing.

      "Shinji's the father."

      Nada

      "We're naming it Kimiko if its a girl, or Piro if it's a boy."
she said dreamily, with an eye on the bottle blonde.

      "Are you done?"  Ritsuko growled.

      "Spoilsport."  Misato smirked.  "I'm here, I'm even awake.  What
did you need?"

      "Nothing you needed to come down right away for, apparently."
Ritsuko grimaced.  "We've finally finished preliminary analysis of the
Fourth Angel's core."

      "Oh?  That -is- news."  Misato's red bomber jacket rustled as she
straightened and leaned over the console.  "So what'cha got?  The
Cliff's Note's version, please."

      Ritsuko snorted.  "That won't be a problem.  We've determined it
works on much the same principles as the Second's, or of course the 
Eva's, as far as AT field generation or power.  What we still -don't- 
know is how those two systems plus the controlling intelligence are 
shielded well enough to all be mounted in the same unit.  The radiation 
leakage from the reactor alone should introduce enough interference to 
prevent a quantum scale processor from functioning reliably, but there 
you have it."  she finished with a frustrated gesture with her unlit 
cigarette.

      Misato nodded.  "So there's nothing applicable to -our- palladium
reactors?"

      Ritsuko shook her head, expecting the question.  "Not that I can
see.  You're stuck with the batteries for a while longer."  she felt a
twinge of sympathy for her friend's frustration at the news.  Misato was
just slightly fanatic about the value of mobility to a combat unit,
probably due to her experience as a light tank commander. The idea of a
weapon as short-legged as the Evas had to be infuriating.

      "Mm."  Misato frowned.  "Can't be helped.  You said there were a
couple of things." she prompted.

      "This one's a little...strange."  Ritsuko admitted.  "We ran a
spectrographic analysis of the angel's tissue as a matter of course,
and it came back odd.  So we ran a sequence of its gene- and proteomes,
and got this."  she tapped at her console screen and brought up the
results.

      Misato leaned closer, and quirked an eyebrow.  The majority of the
screen contents might as well have been Kurdish as far as she could
tell, but one number caught her eye.  "98.89?  What's this comparing to,
the Second?"

      "No.  That's in relation to a -human- genome.  The nucleotides
are different, of course, but the sequence is as you see."

      Misato's eyebrows climbed to her hairline.  "How does -that-
work!"

      "That's the million yen question."

----------

      Shinji Ikari sighed in relief.  Another morning done and no
alarms, no detonations, no outbreaks of mass panic; in all a nice, if
boring, day.  Lunch bag in hand, he followed the majority of the other
students as they made for the courtyard and a breath of outside air,
before having to trudge back to class in half an hour.

      Once outside, Shinji began searching for a table to wait at for
Kensuke and Toji; when a sight he'd never expected to see outside his
imagination stopped him in his tracks.  Mana Kirishima's raspberry
haired visage was a familiar sight under one of the courtyard's small
maple trees at lunch, as often as not accompanied by Sousuke Sagara
in keeping a low key watch on him.  The addition of Rei Ayanami to the
scene was not.  They'd evidently gotten out a few minutes ahead of
the pack, since their lunches were already arranged and partially
consumed.  Mana's relief at his arrival outside would've been comical if 
it were even minutely less heartfelt.

      "Hello Ayanami, Kirishima." he greeted them hesitantly.

      "Hiya, -Shinji-" Mana reminded him.

      "Sorry." he replied as he sat.

      "Ikari." Rei nodded fractionally before returning to her lunch.

      "So what's the deal with Takenaka anyway?" Mana asked "That paper
is ridiculous!  Bad enough it's six pages long, but footnoted too?!"

      "Yeah." Shinji sighed "And Misato wants us in for a live fire
exercise this weekend too."

      "Captain Katsuragi did not specify the exercise would take the
entire weekend, there would be adequate time afterwards."  Rei
corrected

      "True."  Mana agreed.  "You want to start on it then?"

      Shinji grimaced.  "I guess."

      Mana smiled. "Good.  Rei, interested?"

      Rei blinked in surprise.  "...Very well." she agreed softly.

      "Then it's settled."  Mana poked a finger at Shinji's chest.
"We'll be expecting your best efforts at dinner, of course."

      "Hey, how'd I..."

      "Because Sousuke's idea of cuisine is a protein bar and Sarge
keeps pulling rank.  Unless you'd rather have the Captain handle it?"
Mana suggested.

      "Er..."

      "That's what I thought.  Seven o'clock ok?"

      Bowing to the inevitable, Shinji agreed.

      "Then all's right with the world." Mana nodded in satisfaction
"Rei, would you mind finding Sagara and telling him the plan?  I'll
catch up in a minute."

      Rei picked up her lunch bag and stood to leave.  "Until later."
she nodded to each of them.

      Shinji happened to glance at Rei's face as she turned away.  It
might've been a trick of the light, but he'd have sworn for a split
second he'd seen a tiny smile on her lips.

      'No, couldn't be.' He thought, and shook his head slightly to
clear it.  True, over the past two weeks, ever since the last Angel,
Shinji had begun to notice a few cracks in the dam of Rei's reserve.
But in little things, like her listening to some of his conversations 
with his classmates, or looking away from her window a few times during
class.  Nothing as monumental as smiling in public.

      Once Rei was out of sight, Mana let out a heavy sigh.  "Man,
and I thought Sousuke was a bad conversationalist."

      Shinji's gaze hardened "What's that supposed to mean?"

      Mana raised a placating hand.  "I don't mean it badly, but you
know as well as I do communication isn't Rei's strong suite."

      Shinji grudgingly admitted the truth of that.  "And?"

      "And I'm asking for a little help."  Mana growled.  "That was as
much in one minute with you around as I've gotten from her in ten by
myself!"

      "So who's the one with the communication problem?"  Shinji
muttered.

       Mana gave him The Look.  "As penance for that, you're drafted
to help me."  At Shinji's skeptical expression, she added "Unless you
-want- Rei to be lonely and isolated?"

      Shinji glared back. "That's not fair, Mana."

      She shrugged "That doesn't make it untrue.  Now, I need to get
back on the job.  So I'll see you later, partner."  She punched his
shoulder playfully and trotted off.

      Shinji hung his head, and collected his bag.  Upon turning
around, he saw Kensuke and Toji at the table he'd planned on.

      "Pal, you've been holding out on us." Toji warned half-
seriously once Shinji had arrived.

       "Yeah, we meant which -one- of them, not both!" Kensuke
complained.

       Shinji groaned.



August 28, 2015
2:20PM Local Time

       Misato leafed through her clipboard containing the test results.
"Not bad.  Rei, your accuracy was excellent, but you're taking too many
hits.  We'll have to work on that when I get back."  She raised an
eyebrow at Shinji "You, on the other hand, need to chill the hell out."

       Shinji stared.  "Huh?"

       "Put another way,"  Ritsuko broke in, with an irritated glance
at Misato "you tend to hyper focus on one aspect of a situation at a
time."

       "Exactly.  And a clever opponent will use that to her advantage.
Don't assume the Angels will always be so obliging in coming in openly
on a predictable path, or only one at a time from a single direction.
I wouldn't."  Misato added.  "That aside, you're progressing on
schedule."  She dropped the clipboard into a cubbyhole on the wall of 
her office.  "Both of you are dismissed.  Have a good weekend."

----------

      Shinji found Misato waiting for him when he exited the locker
room.  Falling into step with her, they headed for the elevators.

      "What did you mean when you said when you get back?" Shinji
asked

      "Oh, I was going to tell you tonight.  The Director is sending
Ritsuko, Commander Mardukas, and I as observers to some Russian mecha
project's grand debut."  She shrugged.  "Why all of us I have no idea.
Anyway, Hyuuga's in charge until I'm back, and Sgt. Jongkyu will be
around if you need anything at home."

      "Oh.  When will you be back?"

      "Couple or three days I'd guess.  We're there to show the flag
more than anything."


Somewhere over Russian Siberia
August 30, 2015
8:15AM Local Time

      Richard Mardukas removed the officer's cap he'd traded for his
usual embossed baseball hat and shifted in his seat, feeling several
joints creak in protest.  Granting that the accommodations of the small
Gulfstream V business jet were several cuts above the average commercial
airliner, there were still limits to how long one could stay seated
before inactivity and not a little boredom took their toll.

      His companions passed the time in their own ways.  Looking ahead,
he saw that Dr. Akagi was engaged in some 'light' reading.  Like most
submariners Richard had a solid technical background, a Master's in
nuclear engineering in his case, and decades of practical experience.
For all that, the article she'd been perusing had lost him in the first
paragraph.

      Captain Katsuragi had been catching up on paperwork earlier in
the flight, in between chatting with Akagi.  Now looking behind, he
saw she'd leaned her seat back and tilted her beret over her eyes to
engage in the soldier's time honored response to down time, sleeping.

      Finishing his stretch, he returned to his laptop and its
waiting spreadsheets.

----------

      Cold.  That was the overriding impression on arriving at their
destination, an unpronoucably named Cold War-era bomber base near the
Arctic Circle.  Over 2000 kilometers from Moscow, it had at one time
been home to warplanes of the Soviet Air Force's Long-Range Aviation
branch.  Abandoned after the fall of the Soviet Union, and essentially
untouched by either side in the recent civil war, it made for an ideal
location for covert testing of an experimental weapons system.

      Ritsuko raised her parka hood.  "Gods, what a horrible place.
All they'd need in order to do hostile environment testing is wheel it
outside for a few hours." The snow on the ground so early in the year
gave her comment added weight as they trudged from their plane to their,
hopefully, well heated accommodations to wait for the presentation
tomorrow.

      "I'm beginning to suspect why Professor Fuyutski looked so
sympathetic on our way out."  Misato agreed.  "Where are we staying
anyway, Mardukas?"

      Richard didn't bristle at the familiarity.  As Chief of Section
Three (Operations), Misato held equivalent responsibility regardless
of her lower rank outside Nerv.  "That building at our eleven o'clock is
the base officer's quarters according to the map, I imagine there."

      "Not that a map would've helped you much."  Ritsuko teased from
the rear of the little group.

      "Why take sun sights or compass bearings like a freaking
Neanderthal when you have GPS?"  Misato grumbled.

----------

      After a quick stop at the front desk to procure keys and badges,
they arrived at their rooms at the far end of a hallway that probably
hadn't been repainted since Khrushchev's time.  After dropping off
their bags, they quickly decided to meet in Ritsuko's room, as it
possessed the least anemic heater.

      "I'm seeing a trend forming here."  Misato glowered out
the small window at the motor convoy passing outside, likely ferrying
in attendees and saving them the half kilometer march through the
snow.

      "Mm."  Richard agreed from his position in one of the room's
two chairs, having dispensed with the blue officer's jacket that was his
sole concession to the snow.  "I'm not terribly surprised.  Our 
invitation was something of an afterthought to begin with.  Even leaving 
aside that Nerv is their primary competition for UN funding, it stands 
to reason we're not wholly welcome."

      "Very likely.  But if we would return to business."  Ritsuko
prompted from her chair.  "Our information on the project, Dvegatsltye
Samostortslyeno, is sketchy.  However, we do know it does not possess
an AT field, nor a method of breaching one -I'd- stake lives on."

      Richard translated the Russian and shook his head in disgust.
"What a name.  What is this, a 1950's monster film?"

      "Given our day jobs, we have no room to talk."  Misato pointed
out.  "Where do we fit in?"

      "The itinerary lists a live fire demonstration for it and its
accessory weapons lasting until mid-afternoon, and a question and answer
panel over lunch.  After that is a maneuvering demonstration, and a
walk-around tour at the end of the day." Richard replied without a
glance at the brochure. "Some of these events are concurrent, so we'll
need to decide who covers what."

      "I'll leave the things that go 'bang' to the Captain."  Ritsuko
smirked wryly.  "The panel ought to be interesting, however."

      "Done and done."  Misato nodded. "You two enjoy the egghead
convention." she needled back.  "We can meet afterwards for the
maneuvers and tour."


Kartsev-Venediktov/Bahrat Proving Ground
Siberia
10:00AM Local Time

      The ground shook as frozen permafrost ripped from the earth,
fountaining into a poplar-shaped column of debris shot through with
the glow of burning hydrocarbons.

      "Target destroyed" the voice over the PA announced unnecessarily.
"The next demonstration is..."

      Misato tuned out the announcer, as most of the participants were
doing while they traded comments in a dozen languages.

      'Who'd have thought?' she smirked.  'After seeing a 120 gigawatt
laser in action, a weensy little 152mm just doesn't seem the same.' she
sighed theatrically 'Am I spoiled or what?'

----------

      "...so it is with great pleasure I introduce Doctors Chandrigian
and Malenkov to speak on behalf of the Dvegatsltye Samostortslyeno
team!" the round, balding spokesman proclaimed "Gentlemen." he gestured 
the two speakers/victims forwards into the spotlight.

      "And I thought Lieutenant Aoba was long-winded."  Ritsuko
murmured  "I owe the man an apology."

      "I begin to suspect Captain Katsuragi is a bad influence on you."
Richard spoke normally, his comment covered by applause enthusiastic
more for the end of the introduction than the men themselves.

      "I wouldn't be surprised."  Ritsuko agreed.

      The applause died down quickly once the bearded, curly haired
Indian stepped to the mike.  After a quick, self-conscious tug at his
tie, he began to speak.

      "Thank you, Mr. Siminov."  the earbuds worn by the attendees
whispered, while in a room overlooking the auditorium a group of
translators converted his accented Russian into the multitude of 
languages spoken by the audience members.  "We at Bahrat are honored to 
have been chosen to participate in a project of this scale, and I
believe the demonstration later today will allow our work to speak for
itself."

      He stepped back to his previous place, while his Russian
counterpart took his place. "My thanks to Dr. Chandrigian, and his
team's excellent work.  Truly, we would not be here today without their
earnest efforts."  His neatly trimmed mustache and graying hair glowed 
under the stage lights.  "Speaking for my team, I can testify to the 
pride we all take in our creation, and hope those gathered here can
come to share it."

      Perhaps amazingly, given the venue of the two men's remarks, it
was obvious they were completely honest in their opinions.  These
were no mere lab coated bureaucrats, more comfortable with a word
processor than a CAD program, but genuine engineers who took justifiable 
pride in what their efforts had wrought.

      Ritsuko fought the urge to sink lower in her seat.  Misato, in
one of their more drunken evenings during their tenure at Kyoto
University, had quoted a poem one of her instructors had posted on a
plaque behind his desk.  Actually, it had been closer to 'attempted to
sing it like a drinking ballad' but that wasn't the point. Ritsuko had
forgotten most of it, but one couplet had never left her:

      'See the enemy in the mirror/The friend across the field.'

      'How I wish I'd never understood what that means.'  she
sighed deep within her mind.  Straightening imperceptibly while the
first, straightforward, questions from the audience were fielded by
the pair on stage, she waited for her chance.

      "Showtime." Ritsuko murmured.  Gesturing to one of the flunkies
standing around the periphery of the auditorium, she waited until he'd
brought her a hand-held microphone before addressing herself to the
assembly.  "Doctor Ritsuko Akagi, Nerv R&D.  Doctor Malenkov, you
state Dvegatsltye Samostortslyeno uses a liquid sodium reactor for 
primary power.  That seems a strange design decision to me, given its 
role as a ground combat machine."

      "Ah, we're happy you could join us, Dr. Akagi."  Malenkov nodded
a greeting.  "As to your question, yes, there is a certain risk in
using a nuclear reactor in a combat vehicle, but we felt that it was
more than outweighed by the ability to operate independently for
extended periods."  He shrugged philosophically.  "There are hundreds
of nuclear powered submarines and other warships on the oceans today,
after all, and they certainly face the same risks."

      "Generally, submarines don't engage in combat near populated
areas." Ritsuko remarked dryly, ignoring the noise from Mardukas'
direction that might, -might- have been a snort.  "I am also concerned
by the control systems you've employed.  Ignoring for the moment the
security concerns of having a back-door override to the crew in such a
sensitive system, controls relying on traditional manual implements
simply cannot match the responsiveness of one based on direct input
such as an Evangelion's, never mind an Angel's."

      "I would argue that Nerv could stand to -have- a few overrides
on its monsters." Chandrigian rejoined  "A weapon as likely to attack
its masters as it's enemies is no different than the Angels."

      Ritsuko flushed at the second comment.  Suppressing her anger
to a mere clenched fist at her side, Ritsuko continued gamely.  "The
question remains, Doctor."

      "We at Kartsev-Venediktov prefer proven technologies to systems
that rely on bleeding-edge technologies that so far have...mixed track
records, shall we say?"  Malenkov responded with a hard smile.

      "Indeed so."  Siminov chimed in "Such weapons would be as
unreasonable as a hysterical woman."

      Seconds passed.  Ritsuko grimly fought the urge to respond in
kind.  'I will not give him the satisfaction.  I will -not-' She'd heard 
the same enraging message behind those words before and weathered it.  
She would do so again.  Beside her, Mardukas eased himself to his feet 
and gently took the microphone from Ritsuko's white knuckled fist.  
"That was nekulturny (1), Mr. Siminov.  It's fortunate I expected no 
better.  Commander Richard Mardukas, Chief of Logistics, Nerv.  
Questions about the Evangelion's reliability would be my 
responsibility."  He introduced himself in his rarely used 'Warship 
Captain's Voice', carefully ignoring Ritsuko's simultaneously shocked, 
and increasingly outraged, expression.  "Speaking to your concerns, 
Doctor, I would ask exactly what good a weapon is, however reliable, if 
it cannot perform its mission?  You've no doubt seen what we at Nerv 
have been facing.  Whatever issues we may have had with the Evangelions, 
they are a combat tested system that -works-" His icy stare swept the 
podium. "I will accept questions about our 'reliability' when you can 
say the same."

----------

      Misato hummed to herself while she sipped tea from a 
Complementary mug embossed with the Lockheed-Martin logo.  Strolling 
through the the room set aside for the project subcontractors to set up 
booths for themselves, she killed time until her rendezvous with her 
associates.

      "I hope they had a better time than I did.  Nothing but a live
fire test that might as well have been a day at the practice range at
home and half a dozen assholes who couldn't take a hint." she moped
"That Italian Major was cute, though.  Funny too.  It's a shame he had
to leave."

      Meandering now down the hallway towards the conference room, she
cocked her head slightly as what sounded like the prelude to a brawl
echoed from around the corner.

      Misato sped up and rounded the corner to find Richard and
Ritsuko glaring as close to eye to eye as their disparate heights would 
let them.  'Man, Ritsuko's been holding out on me.' she gave a low, soft 
whistle after listening a few seconds 'Either she's been running with a
rougher crowd than she did way back when, or I rubbed off on her more 
than I thought.' "I take it things didn't go well?" she asked lightly 
from a safe distance.

      "That would be putting it mildly."  Richard grated "Since the
Good Doctor here seems unable to accept help, I'll be making myself
scarce for the next while.  You know where to find me."  Not for nothing 
had he been considered one of England's better undersea tacticians, once 
upon a time.

      Misato pounced as soon as he was out of sight.  "Ok, seriously,
Ritsuko.  What the hell?"

      "Oh, it's nothing.  That insufferable, arrogant, stiff-necked,
-asshole- made me look like a total nitwit in front of several -dozen-
of my peers, but really, I'm perfectly fine." Ritsuko said with a
slightly crazed gleam in her eye  "Nothing to worry about here."

      "Uh huh" Misato replied skeptically 'Agree, agree, and agree.'
Misato decided.  'And steer the crazy lady -well- away from the sharp
objects.'

----------

      Three men carried toolboxes down a frigid stairway.  Clad in the
coveralls of lower ranked technicians, with an obvious destination, they
were all but invisible in the large and polyglot staff.

      Arriving at the lift that their perfectly legitimate orders
required them to ride in order to carry out their task of rechecking the
cockpit environmental systems, they chatted about their families, which
one's child had won an award for a poem he'd written, who's mother had
been complaining of gout recently.  At last, the elevator arrived, and
the group climbed aboard.

      "Dimitri."  the leader spoke once the doors had closed.

      "With pleasure." the shortest responded, and opened his toolbox,
dumping out the selection of wrenches and multimeters on the top layer
to reveal several compact Skorpion submachine guns.

      The leader and last member followed suit after slinging their
weapons, to reveal a small brick of plastic explosive with a selection
of fuses and a tablet style portable computer, respectively, both of
which went into pockets on their coveralls.

      "Gentlemen." the leader nodded after the thump that announced
they'd reached their desired level.  The doors opened to a short hallway
ending at the cockpit hatch.

----------

      Misato stood between Ritsuko and Richard near the back of the
crowd in the control room.  Before them stood a massive projector screen
displaying the launch gantry for 'Dveskya' as the machine was nicknamed
by its staff.  To her left, Richard stood feet shoulder width apart and
hands clasped behind his back, in a stance oddly reminiscent of Director
Ikari's, to all appearances completely at ease if it weren't for the
periodic glances to his right.  Misato absent absentmindedly rubbed her
upper arms.  'It has to be my imagination.  There can't possibly be
frost forming on Ritsuko.'  Her other companion stared straight ahead at 
the screen, without once meeting the glances she got from her fellows.

      At the raised control dais behind them, Siminov spoke over the
quiet murmur of the control room crew at their tasks.  "Ladies and
Gentlemen, in a few seconds we will begin the maneuvering course
demonstration.  I would ask everyone to hold questions until the end of
the demonstration."

            //Metallica "Don't Tread on Me" _Metallica_//

      With that, he gestured to Malenkov and Chandrigian behind him at
their consoles.  Seconds later, the gantry began dropping its power
leads one by one and rolling slowly backwards, a subsonic rumble in
the observer's feet testifying to the immense power required to shift 
the structure.  Once the gantry had finally rolled clear, Dvegatsltye
Samostortslyeno, Jet Alone to the English speakers in the onlookers,
stood under its own power.

      "Sure -looks- impressive."  Misato allowed in a voice audible
only to her companions.  Barely visible nods answered her.

      Though Dveskya shared the same humanoid planform of the Evas, most
similarity ended there.  Rather than a human style head and neck,
instead a low, smoothly rounded bulge rose between its heavy, sloping
shoulders.  It was in turn adorned by one large and seven smaller optics 
providing 360 degree vision.  Angular, boxy legs supported a torso that 
was somewhat less anorexic than an Eva's.  Finishing the picture was a
multi-segmented right arm ending in a three finger hand that looked
compatible with most Eva scale weaponry, and a left that consisted of a
short, stout upper arm mated to an oddly familiar looking cylindrical
housing.

      "Now, Dveskya will advance to the obstacle course, and demonstrate
its maneuvering capabilities both in manual and remotely piloted modes."
Siminov announced.  Without further ado, it broke into a ground
devouring lope through a set of slalom poles.  Upon completing the
obstacle, Dveskya skidded to a halt and let fly with its on-board 57mm
Gatling gun, the three barrels spinning in a blur before a muzzle blast
equaled only by the massive plume of flaming debris from the company of
T-72 main battle tanks serving as targets.  Pointedly turning its
back on the burning husks, Dveskya proceeded to tackle the next leg of
the course, a boulder-strewn downhill slope, at a run.

      "Dveskya is capable of up to two hundred kilometers per hour on
flat terrain, and can sustain that pace for days on end."  Siminov
helpfully supplied.

      Arriving at the next target, Dveskya faced a simulated angel.
Somehow, Misato doubted that the purple and green paint job on said
dummy was accidental.  As she grimaced at this, the true main armament
of the machine was brought to bear.

      "Dveskya is also equipped with a revolutionary particle beam
weapon capable of breaching the fabled 'AT field' at a distance of two
kilometers."

      Ritsuko frowned.

      "That's not public information!  What the hell has Section Two
been doing!"  Misato hissed.

      Whatever reply either of the other two might have made was
drowned out by the earthshaking roar from outside as the cannon,
the cylindrical structure comprising Dveskya's left arm below the elbow,
spoke.  The appearance of a visible beam was merely an illusion, caused
by the passage of the millisecond long burst of focused subatomic
particles through the atmosphere at nearly the speed of light.

      It was still impressive as all get-out.

      The target was immediately reduced to a ruin.  The chest plate was
all but vaporized, the surviving internals were plainly visible as the
dummy collapsed in a smoldering heap.

      Ritsuko spoke for the first time in half an hour.  "Ten gigawatt
output, bare minimum."  she reported, a technical subject apparently
enough to bypass her temper for the moment.  "Possibly ranging up to
fifty, depending on what materials they used to armor that drone.
Impressive."

      "Forget the -20s then, get me a couple of those."  Misato grinned

      "The Type-20 is portable by an Eva and only triple the mass of a
Type-14 assault rifle.  That monster needs its own reactor just to
fire."  Richard added without looking away from the screen.  "I imagine
that would put a damper on your mobility."

       A rising argument from the control area broke into the
discussion.  "I don't care.  Request confirmation!"  Malenkov snapped, 
this time too loud to be lost in the swell of voices in the front of the 
room.  The Nerv trio's ears pricked.  That tone was familiar.  It was 
the tone generally used just before a situation went completely pear 
shaped in Tokyo-3.  Apparently it was universal.

----------

      "They've WHAT!"  Siminov exclaimed.  More heads turned to the back
of the room, in mounting curiosity at the spectacle.

      "Remote override, now!" Chandrigian barked.

      "No good!  It's like the connection isn't even there!"  a visibly
agitated console tech replied

      "They've destroyed the network I/O transceiver."  Malenkov
grimly surmised.  "Quick work."

      Chandrigian was conversing rapidly with an Indian technician in
Hindi, before slamming a fist down and uttering what could only be a
string of curses.  "No luck on the backup SCRAM protocol for the
reactor.  Dveskya is completely autonomous." he reported after regaining
his composure.

      Siminov simply stared in shock at the main screen, showing the
orange and white giant striding off roughly southwest.  Even the densest
of the attendees had realized something untoward had occurred, and a
rising babble of questions, exclamations, and speculation was already
filling the room.

      Malenkov glared disgustedly at him, and picked up the handset on
a nearby console.  "This is Stefan Malenkov.  Get me the Kremlin."

----------

      The Nerv trio filed out of the command center with the rest of
the crowd, following one of several politely tight-lipped attendants to
the atrium where the contractor booths had been set up earlier.

      "The longer I'm here the more it reminds me of home."  Misato
quipped, hopping up on an abandoned booth once they'd arrived several
minutes later.

       Ritsuko seated herself more decorously and crossed her legs at
the knee.  "I'll ignore that in the interests of diplomacy."  she
responded dryly  "But in all seriousness, we have no business here.
This seems to me to be the time to make our apologies and withdraw."

       "Awfully suspicious looking if we tried."  Misato replied.
"Not to mention probably the first thing they did was ground all air
traffic and seal the perimeter."

      Richard nodded agreement while standing before the two women.
"Most probably.  Russians being Russians they would probably suspect
it regardless, but there's no reason to..."  he trailed off at seeing
Misato's demeanor shift into 'professional mode' and her gaze focus
over his right shoulder.

        Turning her gaze in the same direction as her friend's, Ritsuko
noticed for the first time that the position Misato had selected had
unobstructed views of all three entrances to the atrium, as well as a
clear line of retreat through a set of maintenance doors not five meters
from them.  It was well to remember, she decided, that Misato only
-acted- like a flake.

       The approach of Malenkov and Chandrigian didn't go unnoticed by
the other attendees.  Gesturing them to follow, the pair led them
through one of the exits.  Standing now in a deserted hallway, they at
last spoke.

       "We have communicated with our respective sponsors, and they in
turn are communicating with our governments."  Malenkov paused, and
visibly took a breath, apparently steeling himself for what came next.
"We have been asked to, unofficially, inquire into the possibility Nerv
will dispatch an Evangelion."

        "That...would depend."  Misato hedged after a moment  "What's
the situation?"

       "Grim."  Chandrigian summarized.  "As it stands, Dveskya is
making very nearly its maximum speed to the southwest, and we have had
no success in activating the overrides, presumably because the receiver
equipment was destroyed before we could try.  We have had no
communications besides a brief transmission from the vehicle commander
that they were compromised by unknown assailants.  Since then, nothing."

      "No one's claimed responsibility?"  Richard asked

      Chandrigian shook his head  "No.  At least not yet."

      "What's the point?"  Misato asked  "There's nothing out that way
that I can think of.  And they can't possibly hope to hold onto the
thing long enough to take it across a border."

       "To the contrary, Captain.  There is something out there,
eventually.  Moscow."  Malenkov corrected.  "Which brings us to the
other bad news.  Dveskya is equipped with a pair of short range
ballistic missiles.  In their current configuration they have a
range of 200 kilometers."

       Richard paled.  "Please tell me you people had the sense -not-
to..."

       Malenkov waved a placating hand.  "Certainly not!  Had nuclear
or N2 weapons been onboard we would have destroyed Dveskya out of hand
the minute it was certain we'd lost control.  Have no fear of that.
However, while the physical damage from a launch on Moscow would be 
minor, politically..." he shrugged expressively.

      The Nerv group nodded grimly.  "If you would excuse us, we need
to discuss this a moment."  Ritsuko pointed at a locked door off the
hallway.  "Do any of these rooms have secure telecom access?"

       "Certainly, pick one."  Malenkov offered, relieved at a better
answer than he'd feared.


Nerv HQ
Tokyo-3
Same time

      Makoto Hyuuga paged through his manga and tried to ignore his
co-worker's humming along with the music in his headphones.  The phone
ringing was a welcome interruption.

      "Command Deck, Lt. Hyuuga speaking.  Be advised this is an
unsecured line."

      "Hyuuga, this is Katsuragi.  Go secure and authenticate."

      "Ma'am.  Authenticate Whiskey Foxtrot November."

      "Uniform Victor X-ray"  Misato completed the second half of the
daily code.  "Go to second stage alert.  Once you've done that, I need
you to whistle up the fastest jet you can find."

----------

      Rei's eyes had the glazed look common to all but the hardiest
Of her classmates.  In the reflection on the glass, she surveyed the
room.

      Corporal Sagara made the most convincing pretense of paying
attention, though only because he was focusing on the elderly social
studies teacher with a view to disabling him as rapidly as possible in
the event of hostilities.

      Petty Officer Kirishima appeared to be engaging in the class
pastime of exchanging short messages during lecture.  Rei didn't
concern herself further, Kirishima would fill her in on anything she
felt Rei needed to know.  At length.

      Ikari appeared to be the only one concerned in the least with the
actual content of the lecture, which spoke volumes for his patience if
nothing else.  Occasionally his typing pattern would change, perhaps
indicating he was responding to a message, before resuming where he'd
left off.

      'Much like the Director.' Rei paused to consider the thought.
The ability of Nerv's leader to sit through the most stultifying
meetings and still manage to extract any valuable data was legendary
in Nerv.  In most cases, however, father and son could be considered 
best as a study in contrasts.  It bore further investigation.

       A buzzing sound from her pocket interrupted her musing.  Quickly
reaching in to silence it, her eyebrow rose millimetrically upon hearing
the recorded message.  Noticing Shinji's confused look at her with his
his own phone still to his ear, presumably playing the same message, she
shook her head slightly, slid her laptop into her bag and departed,
Shinji excusing them and following just behind.

----------

       "...And that's the situation.  Rei, you'll fly out immediately,
transport will be waiting once you're ready.  Shinji, you're on standby
with Eva-01.  Keep the bridge bunnies in line for me."

      "Misato..."  Misato could almost see Shinji's flush.

      "That's it, get moving."  she commanded.  "Katsuragi, out."

      She replaced the handset on the phone and switched off the
attached scrambler unit.  "And now we wait."

      "Bridge bunnies?"  Richard asked with a raised eyebrow.

      "Makoto mentioned once that from the right angle the command
tower looks kind of like an old battleship's conning tower.  So..."
Misato shrugged

      "I'm still not sold on sending Rei for this." Ritsuko
interjected.  "She may have the most training, but I would think Shinji 
would be the better choice from his record so far."

      Misato shook her head.  "If our objective were simply to
destroy Dveskya in minimum time, maybe.  But this operation will depend
on restraint and precision.  Neither of which Shinji is famous for."
she finished ruefully.

      Richard snorted at the understatement.  Much of Tokyo-3 would have
followed suit.  "True.  Captain, I'll need to coordinate with Karamay to
bring all the pieces together, it may take a while.  Doctor, I'd
appreciate your help in that."  As olive branches went it wasn't much,
but apparently Ritsuko wasn't in a mood to be picky.

      "Of course.  According to the last status update of Eva-06, the
neurosystem was successfully tested two days ago..."

      Misato let herself out.  After a short walk she found Chandrigian
in a nearby employee break room, sitting next to a coffee machine
pressed into service for tea instead.

      "Your response was favorable?"  he guessed in English  "I can't
imagine it would take very long to say 'no'"

      "Yes, our Eva in China is being prepped for departure, one of our
pilots will accompany it."  Misato replied in the same language.

      "My partners will be less than pleased about that."  Chandrigian
noted.

      "Tough."  Misato shrugged.  "Beggars can't be choosers."

      Chandrigian barked a laugh.  "Indeed not!"  he stood and lifted
his mug.  "We have not been properly introduced, Captain.  I am Rajiv
Chandrigian.  On behalf of my team, I would thank you for your help.
And on behalf of my two countrymen on-board, I hope your pilots live up
to their reputations."

      Misato lifted her mug and clicked it to his.  "Misato Katsuragi.
And she's up to the job." They drained their cups.  'I hope.' Misato
fervently prayed.


Runway 30-W
Nerv HQ
Tokyo-3
5:30 PM Local Time

      Major Ichiro Ohgami slowly walked around his machine.  Even at
rest on a flat, barren expanse of concrete, his F-15J still breathed
speed.  A Japanese refinement of an American interceptor fighter, it
was in some ways an anachronism.  Built to combat the Russian MIG-25
Foxbat in the mid-1970s, it had entered service as the fastest, most 
agile, longest ranged and fastest climbing fighter in the Western world.
Even forty years later, it was still a match for all but the most 
advanced, and expensive, fighters in the air.  Which was the crux of the
problem.  Japan's military stance for the last seventy years had been 
almost exclusively defensive.  Post-Impact, the trend had only deepened, 
and funding for a successor to an aircraft capable of escorting bombers
from bases in Japan into the heart of Russia was simply not forthcoming.
The domestically produced F-2s would serve well enough, it had been
decided.  And so here he was, swallowing the final indignity, using his
multimillion dollar fighter to play taxi.

      The beige electric van rolling down the road paralleling the
runway caught his attention immediately, if only because it was the only
traffic he'd seen for several minutes.  His suspicion was confirmed once 
he'd caught sight of the red leaf logo on its side as it turned a 
corner.  Upon it silently rolling to a stop a few meters from him, he 
schooled himself into a professional non-expression matching his severe 
brown eyes and regulation haircut, and strode forward to greet his 
passenger.  The side door slid open to reveal a bookish looking, middle 
height Japanese man in a tan and red uniform and heavy black glasses, 
followed by a pale... blunde?  blunette?, clad in an olive drab flight 
suit with a helmet dangling from one hand.

  "Thank you for taking this on short notice, sir."  Makoto greeted
him with a deep bow and obvious gratitude.

  "Not a problem." Ichiro returned it "Though you'll have to make
the explanations to Sakura yourself."

      Makoto shivered theatrically.  "You drive a hard bargain, but I
accept."  He turned to Rei, who had watched the proceedings with her
usual detatched look.  "Sir, this is Rei Ayanami, our Eva test pilot.
The faster you can get her to Karamay, the happier my boss will be."

      Ichiro's eyebrows rose.  While keeping secret the events in
Tokyo-3 was all but impossible, Nerv had been extremely reticent about
releasing any information about the pilots of their machines, not even 
their first names.  His first impression of one of these fabled children
was...mixed.  Superficially she was unremarkable in the baggy Nomex of 
her flight suit and rescue gear, leaving aside her coloration.   Simply 
a small, fragile looking asian girl, classically beautiful but not 
outrageously so.  In a wig one might give a second look upon passing her 
on the street, but no more.

      'Until you look in her eyes.' he ammended upon making contact with
the ruby irises in question.  Accepting each new bit of data the world
presented, much like a pond that simply swallowed up a tossed stone with
barely a ripple.  Old eyes, no matter the youthful face.

      "Pleased to meet you, Miss Ayanami." he bowed again.  "I'm
Major Ichiro Ohgami, of the Air Self Defense Force." He gestured to
The stepladder by his fighter's cockpit. "If you'll climb aboard we'll 
Get you strapped in and be on our way."

      Rei nodded.  "Yes, sir." and began to awkwardly mount the steps
in her gear.

      "I am sorry to interrupt your anniversary, but..."  Makoto
shrugged helplessly.  "We needed the best."

      "Flattery will get you everywhere, Makoto."  Ichiro chuckled,
and nodded to show he accepted the apology.  "Call us when I get back,
it's been too long."

      "Will do, sir."  Makoto saluted.

----------

      Rei stared in silent contemplation of a control panel that made
an Eva's look positively spartan.

      "The intercom switch is here,"  Major Ohgami pointed at a button
on the control stick once she'd buckled in.  "Eject handles are here."
he pointed at a pair of yellow striped handles in the seat's armrests
"And here" and at the two yellow and black rings over her head on the
headrest.  "The rest I'd just as soon you not touch.  Ok?"

      She nodded, and plugged her helmet's intercom cable into its
port.

      The pilot stepped on a recessed foothold for the purpose and
climbed into his own seat.  Upon his closing the canopy, the ground
crew wheeled away the ladder and  signalled all clear.  Moments later a
screeching whine and vibration in the small of Rei's back invaded her
awareness, before the Major's voice announced "Starting One."  A heavy
'whump' followed, the whine hidden by the low pitched scream of
the now functioning engine.

      "Starting Two" he announced, to a redoubling of the engine noise.
"Let's get this show on the road."  Rei listened with half an ear to the
communications with the control tower, while looking around curiously
through the large bubble style canopy over the cockpit.  The lurch of
the brakes releasing brought her attention back inside.

      Her curiosity perhaps overstimulated by the alien environment
she found herself in, she pressed the intercom button once the Major had
apparently finished speaking.

      "Sir, how did you and Lieutenant Hyuuga know each other?"

      "Oh, not much of a story."  Ichiro demurred "Back about two years
ago, when they first started decommissioning these" he patted the
canopy rail "I got sent along with the first batch sent out to the US
for storage in the Boneyard." he referred to the storage facility in
Nevada used by the American military for its surplus aircraft.  The
arid climate allowed outdoor storage for years at a time with proper
preparation. "Makoto was the pilot on the Leviathan transport we'd
contracted from the UN to fly them out."

----------

      Ichiro glanced up at the mirror attached to the canopy rail and
observed his passenger, who so far seemed to be a subdued sort.  While
steering expertly to the end of the runway and locking the brakes for
a final systems check, he made his decision.  His wife had accused him
of still being a little boy at heart, often enough.  It'd be a shame
not to meet expectations.

----------

  //Steppenwolf "Magic Carpet Ride" _Born to be Wild: A
Retrospective_//

      "Ok, we're ready.  Hang on." Rei had no time to ponder those
words before the engine noise, until now loud but bearable, rose to a
crescendo and deepened to bone-shaking roar.  The back of the seat
seemed to lunge forward and slam into her spine as the fighter leaped 
ahead like a bolt from a crossbow.  Head pressed firmly to the seat by 
the acceleration, she could barely make out the runway markers blurring
past in her peripheral vision.  In the mirror ahead of her, she saw the
pilot was grinning gleefully.  Obviously, she decided, Lt. Hyuuga had 
unknowingly selected a maniac.

      Roughly the time she began to wonder about the exact length of
the runway, specifically how much they might have left, the seat tilted
beneath her.  And tilted.  And tilted.  A hasty glance outside confirmed
what her inner ear told her, they were now traveling vertically and
if anything -still- accelerating.

  Finally, they broke through the upper cloud cover and into
brilliant sunlight.  Fumbling for the built-in sun visor on her helmet,
she missed the first part of Ichiro's question once they'd leveled
off.

      "...like something to drink?"

      "Yes." she took a deep breath from her oxygen mask.

      "There's a box of juice in the pouch on the left side of your
seat.  I'm afraid it's all the refreshment I can offer." He apologized,
his professional demeanor back in place as tightly as though the past
minute had never been.  "We are on schedule and flight plan."  Ichiro
confirmed on his panel.  He glanced back at her again.  "Next stop,
Karamay."


Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region
3:30PM Local Time

      Rei blearily awoke, blinking behind her lowered sun visor.  A
few seconds later, the disorientation cleared, and she examined the
view outside the canopy.

      "Good afternoon, Miss Ayanami." Ichiro greeted, having noticed her
awaken "As you can see, the Chinese government was kind enough to send
someone to make sure we didn't get lost."  He dryly chuckled, and
inclined his head at the sleek J-11 fighters off his right and, she
saw, left wings.  "We're about half an hour out, Karamay radioed a few
minutes ago that the transport from Nepal has arrived."

----------

      Han Fei stood stiffly on the concrete pad just off the runway,
frowning slightly at the eastern sky.  No speck on the horizon announced
their counterpart's arrival, so after a few moments he turned to his
partner.

      "Will you stop?" he chuckled at her longing stare at the transport
parked a few dozen meters away, the mostly complete Eva-06 resting on a
massive flatbed trailer being rolled aboard as they watched.  "You know
as well as I do they're not sending half trained newbies on a mission
this sensitive."

      "I know." Nami Lin sighed, her shoulders slumping while her long
dark hair twitched in the breeze.  "It's weird though.  I don't really
-want- to go and risk my life fighting a giant battle robot, but at
the same time..."

      "It seems like a waste if we've worked this hard to just get
sidelined."  Han agreed, also gazing upon the UN transport.  The VG-37
'Leviathan' was what was called an ekranoplan, a 'wing-in-ground-
effect vehicle.' Built by the Volga Shipyard as heavy lift transports 
for military and civil use, they could carry a 900 ton payload up to 
8000 kilometers, all at an altitude of about 20 meters off the surface.
Obviously such a vehicle was best suited to use over water, but given
they'd managed to fly it in from Nepal, the Russian steppe would
probably be a breeze.

      'I still say it looks like a whale.' he mused, noting the
bulbous fuselage and  massive tailplane nearly the width of the wings.

      "There she is!" Nami pointed at the growing dot resolving into
a recognizable aircraft.  "About time!  Come on, we need to meet her."
Nami grabbed Han's hand and dragged him towards the small knot of people
waiting beside the transport.  Han resignedly quickened his stride to
keep up, and wondered if his quasi-girlfriend had swallowed a fusion
reactor as a child.

      Mr. Tzu merely gave a minimal nod at their arrival, returning
his attention to the fighter now on final approach, floating gracefully
down to its appointed rendezvous.  Han got his first good look at
the arriving aircraft, and frowned slightly.

      "Nerv has interesting taste in transports." Nami whispered softly
to him, her lips barely moving.  "That's not even UN, it's Japanese
SDF."

      Han nodded slightly, having noticed the red 'meatball' insignia
on the fighter himself.  "A message, perhaps?"

      Nami shrugged, and mouthed 'later', the jet noise having grown
to the point of drowning out any safe volume of communication.  They
watched the fighter taxi off the runway to the spot adjacent to the
transport, and neatly swing into its slot without help from a tow
tractor, before powering down.  The small group of the pilots, Tzu, and
Director Lin approached it, followed by a pair of ground crew with a
rolling ladder.

      The canopy whined open as they arrived, and the two occupants
of the cockpit removed their helmets, the pilot unstrapping first, and
turning to assist Rei from her seat before descending the ladder.

      "Major Ichiro Ohgami" he introduced himself with a polite bow upon
reaching the ground.  Rei followed just behind and introduced herself as
well.

      Director Yao bowed in turn.  "Li Yao, Director of Nerv Karamay" he
opened his hand at the three standing to his right. "Shui Tzu, training
officer, and Trainees Nami Lin and Han Fei."  Those named bowed as well.
"Welcome to Karamay." Li finished.

      Rei nodded shortly.  "Have my orders arrived, sir?"

      "Yes, in so far as you are to continue on to the rendezvous point
with Eva-06 and be briefed in full by Captain Katsuragi." Li replied,
just as happy to move to business.

      Rei maintained her neutral expression, despite inner
Disappointment at still being uninformed.

      "Mr. Tzu, if you'd show Major Ohgami to the visitor's quarters,
I will brief Pilot Ayanami on what to expect with our Eva." He turned to
gather the other pilots in with his gaze. "Lin, Fei, come as well."

      Li led off towards the transport, Ichiro and Tzu breaking off to
the bus terminal. "As you know, Evas -06 and -07 are intended for direct
fire support of the 'Halberd' type Evas such as -02 and -05, or the Test
types." he began as they strode up the transport ramp and mounted the
ladder to the catwalk that ran the perimeter of the Leviathan's cargo
bay.  "To accomplish this, they sacrifice some amount of agility for
protection and firepower." he admitted.  "The neuro and propulsion
systems are completely installed and tested, as are the defenses.
Sensors and weapons are not." he spoke with considerable understatement,
given the hastily welded patches over several areas of the battleship
gray Eva.

      "Basic visual systems and air search radar are both online, as
are the image intensifiers for night action.  Millimeter wave radar
and sonar systems are not, nor are the forward and rear looking
infrared." he shrugged apologetically "Weapons are in somewhat better
shape."  Li pointed to the Eva's head "All four 57mm autocannons are
installed and tested.  The upper guns seem to be having feeder problems
from their dedicated magazines, but the lower magazines are in working
order, so the upper guns feed from them for the time being.  You will
still have 30 seconds of continuous fire.  Obviously, the shoulder
hardpoints are not installed for the pistols, but we've improvised a
carry system for the progressive knives." he nodded at the mounting
rails along each forearm, with a skeletal looking cage of steel bars
surrounding them to guard the weapons from impact. "HVMs are not
available, supply problems.  The racks are installed, but welded shut
for now."

      Rei minutely frowned at this, for a moment.  From her own briefing
on the Chinese 'Ballista' class Evas, she knew that the Hyper-velocity
missiles were the unit's primary offensive punch.  Essentially a
guided rocket traveling at two kilometers per second; they relied on
their kinetic energy rather than an explosive warhead to achieve a
kill.  Losing them would do unfortunate things to her combat capability.
"I see." she replied neutrally.

      Li seemed to take this at face value, and turned to the two pilots
observing them.  "I am less familiar with the Eva's handling properties,
so I leave that to our own pilots."

      Han took a moment to admire Director Yao.  It was now clear that
he'd decided to kill the proverbial two birds with this one stone.  By
bringing them along with Ayanami for her briefing, they could see she
was embarking on what could easily be a one way trip, not upstaging
them.  Furthermore, by allowing them to speak in their area of
expertise, he allowed them to both see they were still useful, and have
the opportunity to impress a future comrade.  He glanced at Nami to see
she was waiting on -him-, thanked his departed grandfather for
suggesting he take those Speech electives, and began.

      "I'll start by saying I've only piloted the Eva-00 simulation
twice, so my basis for comparison is somewhat limited."

  Rei nodded understanding.

  "That said, the extra armor is certainly comforting when under fire,
lower acceleration or not.  As far as handling goes, I'd say it's the
difference between a sword and a battleaxe.  You have to be aggressive
and force the enemy to react to you to get the most from it.  Nami?"

      "Nothing much, just that I'd noticed that it has a tendency
towards being top-heavy." she smiled apologetically at Li "With the 
hardpoints and pistols gone that might not be as big a problem, but keep 
it in mind."

      Rei nodded again.  "I understand."

      "Right then," Li spoke after it was clear Rei had nothing further
to say.  "Then let's get you familiarized with the cockpit.  I think
you'll be pleasantly surprised."


Nerv staging area
150 km Northeast of Moscow
5:00PM Local Time

      Misato rubbed weary eyes and tried to focus on the map weighted
down on the metal table before her.  'And for my next trick, hiding
a 15 story giant robot on the plains of Russia.'

      She frowned.  Even with the external booster packs Karamay 
provided, Rei would have only 15 minutes of operating time.  They simply 
could not afford a long chase.  Furthermore, the magnetic resonance 
imagers on Dveskya could probably pick up a lump of metal the mass of an 
Eva's armor at about four kilometers, even if the Eva were shut down 
cold. Unfortunate, but not impossible if the object were simply to 
destroy the rogue mecha.  While the estimated effective range for the 
Type-14A automatic rifle Karamay had on hand was a third of that, Eva-06 
could certainly survive to reach that range.

      The sticking point was the crew.  The four men aboard the mech
were, so far as telemetry could tell, still alive.  While more
philosophical about these matters than most Western governments, even
the Russians were hesitant to off two of their own out of hand, never
mind what the Indian's reaction would be.  Hence the third fly in the
ointment.  How to insert a Spetsnaz team into a moving, maneuvering,
most likely shooting, giant robot.  The liaison the Russians had
assigned her was looking into a delivery system more robust than
strapping the poor men to the Eva, but hadn't held out much hope.
Meanwhile, she still had the accursed, unhelpful map to deal with.  Thus
it was with mingled relief and annoyance she greeted the distraction of
the trailer door opening to allow a blast of icy wind to howl through
the interior.

      "Captain, you are in luck."  Lieutenant Filitov announced with a
crooked smile.

      "The terrorists saw the error of their ways and surrendered?"
Misato suggested sarcastically

      "Almost as good." the sandy haired lieutenant chuckled.  "There
is indeed no piece of equipment available in the Army inventory that
meets your requirements."  He held up a hand at her perplexed expression
"-But- it appears the Navy is good for something after all."  He
handed her a hard copy photo.  "That is a bathysphere, used to rescue
crews from crippled submarines.  I checked with Dr. Malenkov,
and Dveskya's hatch dimensions are within tolerances for this craft's
airlock."

      Misato's smile noticeably brightened the room.  "Excellent work,
Lieutenant." she said with genuine gratitude.  "How soon can it get
here?"

      "About four hours, they have to fly it in from Murmansk."

      Misato nodded satisfaction.  "Good enough, Eva-06 won't be here
until then anyway."  She sighed "One load off at least.  Have you
checked with Commander Mardukas on the best place to mount it?"

      "No, ma'am.  I wanted to let you know first."

      "Do so if you would." she tapped one finger against the table
before adding  "You're a paratrooper, correct?"

      "Yes, Captain." he replied, the 'why?' strongly implied

      "I thought so.  When the Commander is finished, come back here.
I think I need a professional opinion on something."

----------

      "Let me see if I understand the plan."  Filitov asked at the
end of Misato's explanation.  "You intend to dock the bathysphere to
your Evangelion, load the team aboard, then push the whole works out
the back of the Leviathan once you've reached the target and hope
nothing falls apart on impact."

      "In essence, yes."  Misato admitted with an embarassed grimace.

      "Oh, well in that case it should be no problem."

      "You're sure." she asked skeptically

      "Certainly, I've done something similar myself several times."
He spoke confidently.  "In fact, you've more or less described the
insertion method for our BTR infantry carriers."

      "The more I hear about the infantry, the happier I am to be in
tanks." Misato said wryly.  "Ok then.  I assume you're familiar with
the traditional reward for a job well done?"

      Filitov smirked. "Another job?" he guessed

      Misato smiled.  "I see some things -are- universal.  Talk to the
tech team aboard the Leviathan about how to reinforce the bathysphere
to handle touchdown."

      He saluted and left.

  'Good subordinates are truly a treasure.'  Misato returned her
stare to the map, her eyes unfocused.


Point Luck
250km North-Northeast of Moscow
7:00PM Local Time

      Rei scanned the slumbering Eva's instrument panel one last time.
Upon listening to the myriad sensors and weapons the Chinese
team had grafted onto the Eva specification, she'd been mentally
preparing herself for a cockpit resembling an explosion in an
electronics store.  Instead, she was indeed pleasantly surprised.  There 
was one large color display in the center of the panel for non-critical 
data, framed by a row of buttons on each side to change the information
displayed or split the screen a variety of ways.  Flanking that on each
side was a smaller color display similarly framed by buttons to allow
customization.  Critical information such as weapons status, sensor
contacts, and failure warnings were displayed on the wraparound main
view panels identical to Eva-00 and -01.  The joysticks on either side
of the seat were adjustable to match different height pilots, a
thoughtful touch, and studded with buttons and a 'hat' style switch
for control of the most important functions, a feature she recognized 
from the fighter's cockpit.  In all, a well thought out system.

      'The grey apple on the center display during startup is soothing
as well.' Rei thought approvingly.  'I must remember to commend the
Chinese team if I return.'

      The communications system beeped, followed by Captain Katsuragi's
voice in her earphones.  "Rei, Dveskya seems to have steadied down
on approach to its launch point.  We'll be dropping you momentarily."
Misato paused and a double beep announced a radio channel change from
the general tactical band to a direct to plug link. "Rei?" Misato
questioned

      "Yes, Captain?"

      "What I'm about to say cannot be repeated to anyone afterwards,
understood?"

      "Of course." Rei replied, showing slight annoyance at the idea she
would divulge information from an obviously secret communication.

      "Good.  We have updated orders.  Should Dveskya reach 220
kilometers distance, you are to destroy the target regardless of the
status of its crew or the entry team."  Misato's voice hardened.
"The lives of the target's occupants are to be considered expendable.
Understood?"

      Rei nodded, in spite of the lack of video communication in the
Eva plug.  "Yes, Captain Katsuragi.  This simplifies my mission
considerably." she replied, a trace of relief in her voice.

      A deep intake of breath answered her.  Misato's voice became a
thing of ice.  "That's all, Eva-06.  We'll speak again after the
mission.  Control out."

      Rei frowned minutely for a moment, and dismissed the stab of
emotion the brusque sign off evoked.  There was a job to be done.

----------

      On a lonely stretch of the Russian steppe, one could believe that
no human had crossed this place since the Mongols.  Barren and cold,
though not yet snowbound, there is all the same a sense of spare beauty
reminiscent of the deserts of the American West.  All that was soon
to change.

      From the south came a rumble that shook the hardy shrubs making
up much of the plant life.  Growing louder with each passing moment,
the shatterer of the peace soon cleared the horizon, a massive
aircraft with short, extremely broad wings and a tail nearly as wide 
sprouting from a body that seemed to be as at home on water as land.  
Eight massive jet engines arranged to exhaust along the upper surface of 
the wings completed the ungainly picture.  Upon passing an invisible 
point on the ground, the large ramp making up much of the rear lowered
itself into the slipstream, followed seconds later by a parachute 
dragging a massive flatbed semi-trailer.  It in turn was attached to 
what appeared to be an equally huge armored man with a curious oblong 
growth on the small of its back. Following a finely calculated 
trajectory, the combination impacted with earthshaking force.  Bits of 
trailer from its disintegration flew far and wide across the landscape.  
Meanwhile the Eva itself skidded along the surface, in the process 
plowing up nearly a kilometer of the Russian countryside.  At last, it 
came to rest.

----------

      "All units check in."  Rei heard the team leader call out through
the comm hookup to the bathysphere.  Shaking her head, she replied
"Eva-06, ready in all respects." in English after a quick scan of her
instrumentation.  Two of the six Spetsnaz members spoke it well enough
for their purposes.  Upon recieving positive responses from the
remainder of the squad, Rei stood the Eva and quickly checked over
the weapon it had clutched in its hands before activating what sensors
she had to search for her quarry.  Success wasn't long in coming, and
amazingly, their target still appeared ignorant of their presence.

      Eva-06 began an easy lope north, seeking to close as quickly as
possible without imposing too much of a drain on its power reserves.
From its current position it would be able to cut the corner on Dveskya
and intercept without having to match its speed, an important point for
the endurance limited Eva.  The minutes passed while the distance
spiraled quickly downwards.  A chirp in her earphones and strobing
ring surrounding the image of the charging mecha announced she'd at last
been noticed.  Accelerating swiftly, she tried to hold the bathysphere
behind her while she closed.  As expected, her opponent's torso swiveled
to track her with its arm cannon, but for the moment held its fire.

      'Wise of them.' Rei commented internally.  "Beginning final
approach." she informed her passengers.  With that, she broke into a
full sprint and raised her AT field.  Seconds later, Dveskya's weapons
spoke, and octagonal ripples strobed against the fifty meter bubble
marking the perimeter of her protection.  Upon passing the two kilometer
mark, she began randomly adding sideways lunges to her course, on the
theory that while a near light speed beam couldn't be evaded, the servos
directing the weapon might be.

      "Distance to target two hundred meters, standby for docking."

      By this time, the operator seemed to have guessed her intentions
and was attempting to rotate the torso and so the docking hatch away as
she circled around.  Not in the mood for a chase, Rei simply grabbed the
machine by its shoulder latch point for air transport and used the other
to firmly attach the bathysphere and activate the electromagnets to hold
it in place.

      "Insertion complete, standing by." she announced

----------

      Misato breathed a sigh of relief.  "Well done, Eva-06." she
replied, watching with the half dozen others crowded around the small
bank of monitors fed by an orbiting reconnaissance aircraft.  Eva-06
quickly backed off and detatched its rifle from the chest latch point
it had stowed it on.

      Misato didn't have to see the action inside the mecha to know
what was likely happening.  The procedure was taught in practically
every SWAT and special forces training center in the world, it was all 
but a cliche.  The armored and heavily armed troopers mass on one side 
of the entry, while their foes point their weapons at the same entrance
from the other side and if they're smart take what cover they can.  
Finally the hatch opens without warning and a cylindrical flashbang 
grenade sails through and explodes with an eye searing flash and ear 
rupturing boom, instantly disorienting its victims.  Following just 
behind would be the assault force to apprehend or 'neutralize' their 
opposition as the mission required.

      She was very surprised when instead a harsh snap came over the
speakers without any mention of tossing a grenade, just before a
fusillade of gunfire followed by rapid fire Russian.

      "Two hostiles down, one injured." the team leader, Lieutenant
Zhukov reported.  "Hostages safe, no losses.  Looks like they -didn't-
have time to rig anything on the hatch once we showed up.  We're freeing
the crew now."

      Those present at the command trailer breathed a sigh of relief.
"Understood, well done."  Misato replied "Be advised you have 20
kilometers to launch range." she added for Rei's benefit. "I thought..." 
she questioned Malenkov.

      "I discussed it with the Lieutenant.  That hatch is plain steel.
Safer to blow it inward, and have it between the commandos and any 
surprises on the other side."

      Misato nodded absently.

      A minute ticked by, with no slowing of the rogue mech, before a
new voice was heard on the radio.  "This is Major Kirchitov, we have
not, repeat, not been able to regain control locally.  Manual controls
are ineffective, and the main transmitter is already off-line."

      "We're working on the problem here, wait one."  Doctor Chandrigian
replied quickly.  With an apologetic look at the Nerv personnel, he and
his team conferred quietly a few steps away with those onboard the
stricken machine.  Finally, he looked over and shook his head.

      Misato's lips formed a grim line.  Three minutes remained, not
enough time to send Rei to extract those onboard, drop them somewhere
safe, and return to fight.  Even if this weren't so, she lacked the
battery power.  "Eva-06, execute contingency as ordered."

      She faced the other occupants of the trailer with an expression
of stone.  "I apologize, but we've run out of time."

----------

      Rei was unsurprised, her opponent had been tracking her with
its weapons for the entire time since she'd dropped off the team.
Having released her battery packs a less than two minutes ago, she was
already cleared for combat.

      She brought Eva-06 around from its course paralleling Dveskya to
close the range.  Particle beam fire lashed past in blue-white streaks.
The simplest and most sure method of destruction would be to fire upon
the lightly armored missile tubes on Dveskya's back. The detonation of
their solid fuel would at the very least cripple the mech, making its
destruction vastly simpler.  Targeting its main cannon would be the next
priority, as it was the only even moderately effective weapon it
possessed against an AT field equipped opponent.  From there, 
bombardment of the drivetrain housing and reactor would finish Dveskya 
permanently.

      Simple, quick, and ruthless.  Exactly as she had been trained for
so many years.  Exactly as the Director would have done.  But as she
maneuvered for the first shot, an image came to her mind unbidden of
the -other- Ikari.  The one who in his second battle allowed himself to
be pinned down rather than potentially kill two of his classmates by
accident.  Who had broken any number of non-disclosure regulations by
allowing them into his entry plug so that he -could- fight.  Who would
not care she had acted within her orders.  The one who would look upon
her if she executed this plan and see only a monster.

      An eternity of indecision by her reckoning, an eye blink by the
universe's, and she made her choice.

      'I am a killer.  I am not a murderer.'

      With that, she shifted her aim by but a few degrees, and squeezed
the trigger.  Half a dozen 105mm APFSDS rounds spat from her rifle's
muzzle, each shaped like nothing so much as an outrageously large dart
traveling at one and a half kilometers per second.  They covered the
distance separating the two combatants in she space of a heartbeat to
smash against the armor surrounding Dveskya's knee joint.

      The mech staggered, but gamely continued with no perceptible loss
of speed, its particle bolts still splashing harmlessly off her AT
field.

      "Two minutes, Eva-06." Captain Katsuragi warned.

      Rei needed no reminder, her cockpit lights had already gone red
to signify her dwindling power supply.  Darting in closer after another
useless shot from Dveskya, she fired again at the same joint in the
hopes the first volley weakened it.  Again, minor damage.  Still 
maintaining her evasive pattern, she moved in once more.

----------

      It was obvious to anyone watching, from the denizens of the
command trailer to the likely dozens of spy satellites even now focused
on the previously obscure patch of Russian soil, that Eva-06 had its
opponent completely outclassed.  Eva-06 might have lacked some of the
sheer fluid grace of its sisters, but compared to the clunky, restrained
motions of its foe it was a world apart.  Sidestepping smoothly, it
evaded the string of 57mm shells Dveskya fired while waiting for its
particle beam to recharge.

      Thus far Rei had stayed outside the invisible perimeter of
Dveskya's estimated two kilometer effective range, on the theory that
if its designers said it could hurt her closer in, it was wise to
believe them until proven otherwise.  Misato was about to order her to 
close when Eva-06 put its head down and did just that as soon as Dveskya
fired.  Taking advantage of the five second recharge time on Dveskya's 
main weapon, Rei closed as far as she dared before dropping to a firing
crouch, locking on, and opening up.

      Smoke wafted across the view for a tense second, before a bolt
from from the heart of a star seared its way through the half kilometer
separating them.  At last, it blasted right through the AT field that
had held it at bay for so long.

----------

      Warning sirens and ominous red sidebars greeted Rei as she opened
her eyes.  Gasping raggedly from the searing pain spreading across her
chest, she found Eva-06 flat on its back.  Staggering back to her feet,
she realized her rifle had been essentially annihilated by her enemy's
fire, reduced to a stock and a sliver of receiver connecting to the
grip.  Slashes of red across the schematic on her left console display
indicated a second hit to the chest would be essentially unobstructed, 
and likely breach her protection.  A third would assuredly be fatal.  
Tearing her eyes from the grim report, she found Dveskya advancing, the 
elbow joint connecting the cannon to the rest of the arm damaged and 
probably immobilized, but the weapon itself apparently intact.

      The babble in her earphones told her nothing she didn't already
know.  The enemy's torso twisted slightly to fine tune its aim, and in
the last fraction of a second, she moved.  Not much, mere meters.  But
enough.  A particle beam had to be tightly focused, or it lost effect
too quickly.  The Fifth Angel's weapon had demonstrated this, as it lost
coherence over the thirty kilometers it had traveled through the
thickest part of the atmosphere.  That ever so slight spread from a one
meter diameter to just three had increased by a factor of -nine- the
amount of armor it had to defeat, and bought Shinji enough time to save
her.  The converse was true now, as the very tightness of Dveskya's beam
defeated it, allowing Rei to shift just enough to let it sizzle by with
only scorch marks on the Eva's upper shoulder and neck to show its
passing.

      Her lips forming a grim line, she sprang.  One hand touching
Briefly to the ground for extra purchase, she attained an acceleration a
Ferrari might have envied as she closed the distance, and played her 
final card.  One Type-2 progressive knife had survived its brush with 
nuclear fire.

      She called upon it now.

----------

      Misato's cry to retreat died in her throat.  Eva-06 moved with
blinding speed, its left side prog knife snapping from it's forearm
holster and warning light glowing ominously as it powered up.  Each
lunging stride brought her a full fifty meters closer to her prey.
Dveskya had run out of time.

      The first slash was to the already weakened elbow joint,
separating the cannon from its power source.  Switching the knife to her 
right hand, Rei used the left to fend off the desperate grab by 
Dveskya's right and pulled the robot in close, thrusting the knife deep 
into its abdomen and drivetrain.

      The two combatants froze for an instant, locked together, before
Dveskya slumped.  Staggering under a mass half again its own, Eva-06
retrieved its knife and dropped it at it's side, using the now freed
hand to help lower its defeated foe to the ground.

----------

      "Eva-06 to entry team.  Status." Rei's voice crackled over the
tactical band.  Seconds ticked by, before a slightly shaky voice
answered "Lieutenant Zhukov reporting.  Major Kirchitov appears to have 
a depressed skull fracture.  Lieutenant Sanga and Sergeant Kristoff have 
a broken femur and radius respectively." he paused "I am also to report 
nine -powerful- desires for directions to the nearest drinking 
establishment."

      "Medical and radiation safety teams are inbound, Lieutenant."
Misato replied with heartfelt relief over sudden cheers.  "Hang tough,
and I may well join you in that."

      "By all means, Captain.  By all means."


Somewhere over the Ural Mountains
September 2, 2015
9:00AM Local Time

      Rei's neutral visage stared back at her in the window's
reflection, as she gazed out the of the commandeered Leviathan 
transport.  The vastness of the tundra spread out below her, crawling 
past at a snail's pace in spite of their speed.  For safety's sake, 
their transport had risen to a one kilometer altitude for their transit 
of the chain, before it would descend to its normal cruising altitude 
for the long trip back to Karamay.

      She'd been invited to the informal victory celebration held at
what was, as far as anyone could determine, the nearest local drinking
establishment.  She'd begged off as politely as possible.  Certainly
she'd not been untruthful when she'd explained that piloting was a
strenuous process, and took a certain amount of time to recover from.
Veterans all, her hosts had pressed no farther.  Everyone dealt with
post-battle letdown in their own way.

      A rhythmic tapping on the steel stepladder leading up to the small
cluster of seats just behind the cockpit drew her attention.  A moment
later, the uniform beret of -Major- Katsuragi appeared above the ledge,
soon followed by the rest of her.  The papers confirming this change of
status had arrived with blinding speed by bureaucratic standards, though
to be fair they had been filed several weeks ago, following the Fifth
Angel.  Rei had overheard two of the techs who had attended the party
comment that the unprecedented speed in confirmation was most likely
because if the UN hadn't given her the promotion, the Russians damned
well -would- have.

      Rei turned to briefly glance at her commander as she approached,
assuming that she was merely on her way to confer with the flight
crew.

      She was mildly surprised when Misato instead took a seat across
the aisle from her.

      "Can I help you, Major?"

      "No, not at the moment."  Misato looked back across the cargo bay,
at the massive bulk of Eva-06 strapped down on a new trailer.  The scars
of its battle were still visible, any substantial repairs would have to
wait until their return.  "The Russians found out who was responsible,
in case you were wondering."  Misato commented offhandedly.  Taking
Rei's silence for assent, she continued.  "A combination of Chechen 
front men and financing from a splinter of the Russian ultra nationalist 
party, leftovers from the civil war.  'Devil's alliance' was considered 
the most descriptive term."  The phrase 'nine millimeter aneurysm' was
also being tossed around, but there was no need to mention that, Misato
decided.

      Rei nodded.  "I see.  Thank you, Major." she began turning back to
the window, clearly expecting that to have been the end of the
conversation.

      "Not quite."  Misato forestalled her.  "When you said that your
instructions 'simplified your mission' I fully expected you destroy
Dveskya as swiftly as possible once I gave the order.  Why didn't
you?"

      Rei considered, before deciding more information was needed. "Is
that a criticism, ma'am?"

      "That depends on your answer."

      Rei thought a moment longer.  "It seemed the right thing to do."

      Misato nodded, satisfied.  "It was.  Those orders were legal,
certainly, but they weren't sensible.  Had you simply moved to
annihilate Dveskya, as you could have, Nerv's reputation would have been 
damaged for a long time to come.  You did the right thing, don't let 
anyone tell you otherwise."

      A look of surprise briefly flashed across Rei's features, before
her usual non-expression reasserted itself.

      Misato smiled, giving in to a fit of whimsy.  "One thing did worry
me, however."

      "Ma'am?"

      "That berserk knife charge of yours makes me wonder if Shinji
isn't rubbing off on you."  Misato outright grinned at Rei's perhaps 
even briefer flush to her cheeks.  "That was all I had to say." Misato 
said as she stood.  "You should be proud of yourself.  I am."  Misato 
laid her hand on Rei's shoulder as she passed, and descended the ladder.

      As the footfalls faded behind her, Rei turned again to her window,
and was greeted by her reflection with what might just have been the
tiniest of smiles.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's notes

(1) Officially, 'uncultured' in Russian.  In practice, much like gaijin
in Japanese, it means something somewhat different.  'Backwoods,
goat-screwing hick' probably captures the essence well enough.

Words like -this- are emphasized by the speaker.
Words like THIS are shouted by the speaker.
Words like <this> are in a language foreign to one of the listeners.
Words like 'this' are thoughts of the speaker.


  Two things, one of which I will apologize for, and one I won't.
The first is that to the Russian speakers in the audience, for my
butchery of your language, I am truly sorry.

  The second, Rei.  Enough said.

Line 0000- Pat Benatar "Invincible"
Line 0582- Metallica "Don't Tread on Me" _Metallica_
Line 1025- Steppenwolf "Magic Carpet Ride" _Born to be Wild: A
Retrospective_
End - Joe Satriani "Big Bad Moon" _Live in San Francisco_

==========
From: Tabasco <83drew@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.creative
X-Original-Date: Sun, 13 Jul 2008 11:36:10 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: [Eva/FMP][FanFic] But Loyal to Their Own: Chapter 5

                     Furry Pigeon Productions presents:

             But Loyal To Their Own:  An Evangelion Elseworlds
                              By Andrew Lewis

           Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
           Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
              Han Fei and Samuel Roberts copyright the author
             All characters once again used without permission

Chapter 5- The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

"But I don't want to be among mad people," said Alice. "Oh, you can't
help that," said the Cat. "Here we are all mad! I'm mad! You're mad!"
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat,
"or you wouldn't have come here!"
-Lewis Carroll "Alice in Wonderland"

"Conviction is contagious.  So is doubt."
--Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan, _Mirror Dance_, by Lois McMaster Bujold


Nerv-3
Boston
September 1, 2015
9:00PM Local Time

      Samuel Roberts plopped his language textbook on the cafeteria
table and took a long look at the occupant across from him.  Teletha
Testarossa frowned at what looked like the field manual for the Glock
17 automatic pistol propped between the table and her lap, outwardly
concentrating on what Sam knew to be a fantastically dull document.
To an outside observer this would have merely been a sign of commendable
diligence on her part, but he hadn't been living and working with this
girl for the past six weeks for nothing.

      "Ok, what's wrong?"

      "What makes you think anything is?" she answered without looking
up, her left hand twining the tip of her ash blonde braid through her
fingers.

      "One, because that's the same manual you've been reading since
yesterday, and you've yet to take more than a couple hours on one.
Two, you haven't turned a page in five minutes. Three, you've -been-
like this off and on for a while.  Spill."

      "I don't want to talk about it." Tessa replied, a noticeable
edge to her voice.

      "Uh huh." Sam considered her before nodding to himself.  "Ok,
good to know.  I'll remember to mark this week on next month's
calendar."

      Tessa's fingers twitched on her braid.

      That was the reaction he was looking for.  "Yep, big red letters
too, saying..."

      Tessa glanced up through her bangs.  "You're not going to shut
up until I tell you."  It wasn't a question.

      "Nope."

      Tessa sighed and contemplated relocation, but since she had to go
back to her room of their suite -some- time that was a temporary
solution at best.  Given the keen interest coming across the table from
her brown-eyed inquisitor, even that respite was doubtful.

      "All right," she relented. "Mao's been 'talking' to me about my
performance."

      "Oh."  Sam's eyes widened with much the same expression had he
felt the tug of a tripwire against his boot.  "More than usual?" he
asked, a veteran of more than a few such sessions.

      "You could say that."  Tessa smirked darkly, and related the gist
of the meeting.

      Sam winced. "Ouch. Talk about not pulling her punches."

      It turned out Tessa's normally soft, sweet voice could manage a
fairly credible snarl.  "And every time I think about it I get..." she
gestured angrily.

      "Pissed off all over again?"  Sam supplied.

      "Yes!" she exclaimed.  "And what's even worse is that I know
perfectly well she's manipulating me, but its still working!"

      "Don't blame ya.  I'd be hacked too,"  Sam scratched at his nose
in thought. "Though what the rest has to do with anything is beyond me.
I mean, you may not be Miss America material, but calling you a horse is
a little harsh,"  he mused to himself.

      Tessa's indignation dissolved into blank incredulity, before she
dropped her face onto her folded arms, her shoulders twitching
spasmodically.

      Sam's expression collapsed into horror as the last sentence
replayed itself for his mortification.  'Nice job, jackass!  What's
next, stomping on kittens?!' "Tessa, I'm so sorry.  That was stupid, and
if I'd thought for half a second I'd..."  he was cut off by her muted
laughter, before she raised herself back upright and wiped her eyes.

      "No, relax.  I'm ok.  Only -you- would think..." she cut herself
off. 'Of all the ways to comfort someone!  Not Miss America material!
You'll pay for -that- later, pal.'

       She chuckled again, for a very different reason, and continued.
"Mao wasn't calling me ugly, she was quoting an old story.  It basically
goes that a prisoner was brought before the Persian emperor to be
sentenced.  The emperor gave him the choice between an immediate
beheading, or he would have one year to teach a horse to sing.  If the
prisoner failed, he'd be executed in some vile way, I've forgotten how.
If successful, he'd be set free.  The prisoner agreed at once.  On the
way to the stables, the guard asked him why he accepted so fast, he
couldn't think it was possible.  The prisoner replied 'Yes, but in a
year the emperor might die, or I might die, or perhaps the horse will
sing.' I ran across it when I was learning Farsi." Tessa shook her head
in remembered wonder.  "Absolute power must corrupt in more ways than
morally, some of those guys had no business outside a psych ward."

       She went silent for a moment, her gaze far away, before giving
a little shake and continuing "Anyway, its a hobby."

      "Huh.  Not my first choice, but hey."  Sam shrugged, letting out
a secret breath of relief that the danger had passed.

      "And long range gunnery is a perfectly normal pursuit."  Tessa
countered archly.

      "What?  A lot of boys learn to shoot before they learn to multiply
back home.  And most of us that do get our first buck before we leave
elementary school." He shrugged again. "Of course as far as Mom knows
I've never fired on anything but paper targets.  Helps her sleep better
at night, I suppose."

      Tessa quirked a grin.  "Shame on you.  Anyway, Mom put together a
degree in languages over the years while Dad was at sea.  She said it
helped her pass the time."  'Among other things.' Tessa added to herself
with well worn bitterness "My brother studies them too, so I guess it
runs in the family."

      She sat quietly and considered her table mate once he'd returned
to his reading.  In spite of his blunder, she did feel a little better.
Sam wasn't one to sweat the small stuff.  'Or a lot of the -big- stuff,'
honesty compelled her to add.  If he agreed she had a right to be angry,
she wasn't likely to be overreacting.

     But one part of that first rebuke from Mao had stood out. "You
haven't figured out how to use your talents to effect."  She'd turned
that statement over in her mind any number of times and was no further
along than when she started.  Maybe another perspective was in
order...

      "I need an honest opinion."

      Sam cringed slightly.  "Ok, that I can do."

      Tessa forbore comment. "What are my strengths as a pilot?"

      Sam groaned.  "Are you -sure- you wouldn't rather ask me if your
plugsuit makes you look fat?"

      "Are you saying it does?" Tessa replied with an innocent smile
that stopped at her eyes.

      "I'm not -quite- as dumb as I look.  But ok, as a -pilot-" he
paused for thought. "You're hands down the smartest person I've met, and
if I didn't know better I'd say you can see a radar beam instead of
calculating its path.  Computers certainly like you, too." He suppressed
the bitterness of someone who couldn't even program a TV.  "And language
skills are always a handy thing for a soldier," he finished after
another pause.

      'Well, that qualifies me to -repair- an Eva...' Tessa thought.  It
wasn't lost on her that no physical qualities were mentioned.  Not that
that was a surprise, she knew perfectly well athletic prowess wasn't
going to be on anyone's list of her best qualities.

      Sam observed her gloomy expression and bit his lip in frustration.
'I knew this was a bad idea.   I don't have any business fixing a crisis
of faith, there's a reason I keep my mouth shut at funerals!'
Unfortunately, he was all there was.  "And..." he continued, after a
quick recitation of Shepard's Prayer, "I've never seen you quit." At her
skeptical look, he half-desperately added, "You've always given
everything you've got, not matter how crazy the job was."

      "I'm sure thick-headedness counts as a major plus,"  Tessa replied
sarcastically.

      "Depends on if it accomplishes anything.  And come on, what kind
of man lets a girl do something he refuses to do himself?"

      "Now what exactly does..."  Tessa began irately

      "Let me try that again,"  Sam sighed, cursing himself.  "When I
see you out there fighting tooth and nail to get through, it feels
criminal to give anything less," he took a breath to steel himself to
finish "almost like a betrayal."

      Tessa stared narrowly at him for a long moment.  "That may be the
sweetest thing you've said to me.  What have you done with Sam, and are
you sure he can't escape?"

      "Hey!"  Sam protested.  "I've said nice things before!"

      Tessa continued to stare.

      "Once or twice.  I think?" he amended hopefully

      'What -am- I going to do with you?' she shook her head and finally
relented.  "Yes, you have." Tessa agreed with a crooked smile. "All
right.  So I'm a smart, stubborn, nerd who can bore and confuse in an
array of tongues.  I guess I'll just have to go with what I've got."


Nerv-4
Karamay
September 2, 2015
12:15PM Local Time

      Nami Lin stood on her toes and tried to scan the tables in the
crowded cafeteria for her partner.  'He'd -better- have waited for me.'
she fumed after a long moment, before finally spying him at a small
table near the east wall.

      "There you are." Nami's smile belied the impatient sounding
greeting.

      "I was about to start waving flags,"  Han deadpanned.  "I see you
got the pork.  Good choice."  He said while making a face at his so-
called chicken and rice.  "Have you seen what the cat dragged in?" he
asked once she was seated.

      Nami chuckled.  "If you mean the remains of our Eva, yeah.  I saw
it when Ayanami and the rest got back.  You're behind the curve!" she
needled.

      "Oh, so did I.  I meant how it looks -now-"  Han clarified.
"I'd say the modular armor proved its worth."

      Nami nodded agreement.  Unlike the prototypes, the production
model Evas were designed with combat requirements in mind.  In contrast
to Eva-01, which while equipped with combat rated armor and structure
was more systems testbed than war machine, the newer Evas mounted their
protection in thousands of octagonal and semi-octagonal blocks two
thirds of a meter thick.  Repairing external damage was a matter of
simply replacing the damaged blocks with identical ones from storage,
and reapplying the ablative resin coating over the area.

      "They sure didn't waste any time.  They had the actual battle
damage fixed in under an hour."  Nami agreed.  "I heard all of the
autocannon ammo feeds work now, too."

      "Good to know, though I still think they underestimated a bit on
how much firepower we'd need,"  Han frowned at his plate again. "If the
105mm was a bit anemic, I doubt the 57's will be an improvement even if
they do fire a lot faster."

      Nami nodded absently.  "Speaking hypothetically, if you knew you
were being lied to in a little thing, would you trust someone about
something more important?"  she asked after a moment.  At Han's wary
expression, she amended hastily, "Oh, nothing about us.  I'm talking
about a Nerv thing."

      Han relaxed.  "Oh.  Well, I wouldn't quit believing them
completely, but I would certainly be a lot more careful."

      "That's what I thought too."  Nami leaned forward somewhat and
appeared to be toying with the straw in her cup.  "I've been doing a
little checking around since the Fourth Angel.  Nothing illegal, or
dangerous," she added at his building worry, "just keeping my eyes open.
A couple days ago, one of the clerks left his terminal for a coffee
break.  When I glanced at his screen, I saw something interesting.  You
know we all have profiles in the Nerv system, right?"

      "Sure, what about it?"

      "Well, this clerk must have been browsing the server they're on
for some reason, because I saw the actual files, not the data screen
we get.  Soryu-Langley's and Ayanami's were about ten years old.  Yours,
mine, Testarossa's, and Robert's were all created around mid-July, give
or take a few days.  So was Ikari's." Nami finished grimly.

      Han frowned in thought.  "Interesting.  There are several reasons
that could explain that, but still, interesting."

      "No joke.  I put it off as someone restoring from a backup or
something at first, but the more I thought about it..."

      "That would change the local creation date, but not the date stamp
on the file,"  Han replied.  "No, that file was created when it says
it was. I think I see where you're going with this, but it has to be
that the file was reconstructed for some reason.  Certainly that's more
likely than Nerv letting a total novice pilot a billion dollar machine.
Especially in combat."

      "You'd think so, but look at the evidence.  You saw the footage of
the Fourth Angel, and we've fought Ikari in sims who knows how many
times.  He might be every bit as effective in combat as the other two,
but he doesn't -move- like they do.  Not as smoothly, even with a better
sync score than Ayanami."

      "I don't move like you do in an Eva, and we have the same
experience,"  Han pointed out.  "Who's to say he would move like someone
else?"

      "I had two years of gymnastics before I had to leave my old
school," Nami replied bitterly. "I move better than you because some of
that carries over.  Ikari should have the same training that Ayanami got
if he really is her partner, but he doesn't -show- it," she shrugged
helplessly. "What does that leave?"

      "Not much,"  Han sighed after a moment.  "It's not proof,
though."

      "No, but it's damned suspicious.  And that's what I was getting at
before.  I suspect we're getting lied to, or at least -not- getting the
whole story.  So now what?"

      "I can't think of much we can do, except keep our eyes open.  I
think the real question is if we let on we know,"  Han frowned.  "I'm
personally in favor of not."

      Nami's eyes widened in surprise.  "Why not?  Not mentioning it to
the staff here makes sense, but at the very least the other pilots need
to know."

      "Maybe,"  Han grimaced uncomfortably at her stare, but pressed on.
"A secret's chances of getting out increase with everyone who gets
brought in on it.  And we don't know anything about the others, not
really."

      "Not -yet-"  Nami corrected.


Nerv-3
Boston
September 5, 2015
8:45AM Local Time

       "Eva-03, flank left and prepare to engage." Rei's flat voice
commanded over the roar of an incoming HVM volley.  Han, in Eva-06,
wasn't stinting his fire support as he steadily burned through the
sixty rockets his machine carried.

      "On the way,"  Tessa responded while moving Eva-03 in a crouch,
careful to keep under the height of the row of apartment blocks she was
using for cover.

----------

        Easing slowly around a foothill, Asuka spied Eva-03 about eight
hundred meters ahead and to the right, practically in plain sight.

      "Too easy," she grinned, and drew her pistol from its shoulder
hardpoint. "Just ease forward a little more and..."  Then it hit her.
It was quiet.  Too quiet.  "Eva-06, status."  Nothing but an almost
inaudible hiss.  "Fei, respond," Again, nothing. 'Creeeepy.  But that
bastard Steuben probably simulated a comm failure to keep me from
winning so easily.  Too bad it won't work,' she smirked smugly.  Easing
forward to her firing position, she noted Eva-03 was still banging away
with its Type 17 battle rifle, a larger caliber and slower firing cousin
to the Type 14 her partner carried, implying the fight was still on.
She continued in that belief right up until Eva-03 vaulted out of the
canal it had been using as an impromptu trench and disappeared from
sight.

       "Sonofa!"  Asuka snarled and gathered herself to pursue, when a
whisper of instinct caused her to duck instead, narrowly avoiding being
impaled on a nagitana wielded by Eva-00.  Rolling to her feet, Asuka
suppressed a flare of self-loathing for not entertaining the thought
that Rei might have sprung a counter-ambush of her own.  After
frantically dodging the return swipe of the weapon, she ignored her
pistol as useless at this range and brought her axe around in a hissing
arc, calculated to slip past the haft of the sword bladed spear and end
in Eva-00's thigh.

      Ayanami was no slouch in a melee, even Asuka would admit as much,
but this was the kind of fight that Eva-02 was built for and she'd
trained for.  It was only a matter of time.

----------

       Melissa Mao tipped a mental hat in respect to Pilot Ayanami,
as Eva-00 gave ground before her foe.  Rei had to know she was
outclassed, and the damage her machine was taking only proved the point.
However, every second she bought allowed her partner that much more time
to work around into a position to support her.

       In fact...

-----------

       Asuka's missile launch alarms screamed a warning, jerking her
away from the image of Eva-00 reeling before her, to see a pair of four
missile salvos arcing in from different directions.  Reflexively leaping
away, she launched into an evasion pattern while trying to back track
where they'd come from.

      "Oh you -have- to be kidding me!" she exclaimed as yet another
volley appeared, from a completely different direction.  Spying Eva-00
advancing on her, progressive knife in hand, she made a snap decision.
Springing to meet her arch-foe, Asuka closed the distance, aiming to
force Testarossa into aborting her launch for fear of hitting her
teammate.  Not that such a thing would stop -Asuka- of course, but...

----------

      Tessa snarled frustration.  The Maverick guided missiles she'd
launched were 'fire and forget' weapons.  Once their infrared cameras
had been locked onto a target, each missile was supposed to home in on
it independent of any external help.  And so they were.

      "Eva-00, pull back!  You're way too close!"

      Rei didn't bother responding to the obvious, and continued to
maneuver to prevent Eva-02 from leaving the kill zone.  Seconds later,
it no longer mattered.  The earth's shaking unbalanced even the Eva's
substantial mass momentarily, the effect much like holding a string of
firecrackers to one ear while a freight train rumbled past.

      Tessa raised up from the crouch she'd dropped into instinctively
to allowed her radars a clear line of sight through the debris and
slowly settling dust.  There, hazy and ill-defined in the low resolution
image they provided, stood both Evas.  Somehow, they'd managed to at
least partially evade all three salvos.

      Rei's Eva stood shakily with its right arm missing and what had to
be major armor damage to that shoulder, as well as a shoulder hardpoint
bent crazily from a very near miss.  Asuka fared somewhat better, a
hardpoint missing completely and a series of nasty gouges down the chest
and continuing onto the abdominal armor, indicating she hadn't -quite-
twisted away from a few.

      "Eva-00, get clear.  New salvo on..."

      Asuka moved with a cobra's speed.  One moment Eva-00 had been
backing up a step to comply with the obvious sense of the request, the
next Eva-02 moved in a crimson blur to plant a progressive knife
squarely through the armor covering the notch of Eva-00's collar bone,
and surely the vertebrae surrounding its entry plug.

      Turning slowly from her fallen foe, Eva-02 locked eyes with the
hapless pilot who'd so suddenly found herself alone.

----------

      Asuka sized up her remaining opposition, and smiled.  To her
credit, Eva-03 was already moving to take cover in a small cluster of
buildings to the east.  It wouldn't be enough.  Asuka's evaluation of
Teletha Testarossa thus far summed up as 'barely competent.' That she
had a grasp of tactics was obvious, but she was entirely lacking in the
piloting skill to translate that knowledge into action.

      "I'd actually be more worried if it were her moron of a partner
over there.  At least -he- can hit the broad side of a skyscraper
without the computer nursemaiding him.  As it is this is just clubbing
baby seals."

      Ensuring she was making the random course and speed changes that
minimized the chances of a hit, Asuka darted forwards to the forlorn
office building she saw standing at the edge of the clear area Eva-03
had selected as her fire zone.  120mm rounds streaked past at one and a
half kilometers per second with the characteristic snap-crack of
projectiles traveling faster than sound, none close enough to be
particularly worrisome.  Her alarms wailed again as her Eva's sensors
detected the heat of another missile launch.

      "Ha!"  Asuka cackled as she skidded behind her chosen cover like
a runner sliding for home plate.  "Nice try!"

----------

      Tessa noted her opponent's successful bid to find cover with icy
detachment.  Sam and Melissa had done their level best to teach her in a
few short weeks the skills they'd gained over the course of years.  In
their defense, given the student's starting point the results had been
impressive by any possible standard.  But hitting a moving target from
three quarters of a kilometer away was simply beyond her abilities.

      'Of course, so might this,' admitted the tiny corner of her mind
not focused on the task at hand.

      Her last four Mavericks accelerated on pillars of fire towards her
foe, sporting two important differences from their predecessors.  First,
they arrowed ahead on a fast, flat trajectory as opposed to the high,
looping affair needed to allow three separate salvos to arrive
simultaneously.  Second, their tiny on-board intelligence had been
firmly overridden.  Originally built as the F model used by the United
States Navy since long before Impact, they had in Nerv's hands been
refitted with additional guidance systems to allow more flexibility in
targeting.  Now, their infrared seekers fed not the missile's CPU, but a
small laser transmitter that in turn relayed the data to Eva-03.

      Thus, Tessa was now focusing total concentration on the grainy
black and white video feed on her center panel, one small thumb
manipulating the trackball on her control joystick.  The image of the
skyscraper grew with frightening speed on the monitor, and Tessa steered
her missile to pass wide, its brothers obediently following the leader.
Then, at the last second, she spun the ball hard left.

----------

      Melissa frowned in confusion.  The idea of using the remaining
missiles while she could made sense, but as soon as Asuka had made cover
Tessa should've cut the guidance links and run for it.  At least that
way she could've opened the range back up.  As it is the moment those
missiles hit somewhere Asuka was going to leap out from her bolt hole,
and once she was in among those buildings there was going to be precious
little Tessa could do to stop her.

      The quartet of missiles swung slightly right of the direct course
to the office building, which made even less sense.  The Mavericks were
each armed with a 140 kilo shipkiller warhead.  There was some chance
that they could blast through the walls in succession to get to Eva-02.
The missiles streaked past the front wall and proceeded to do the
unexpected.  As one, their control vanes locked to maximum left
deflection, and like a car on glaze ice they skidded around the next
corner with bare meters to spare.  One didn't make the turn and clipped
the corner of the building, blowing a hole an Eva could put a foot
through in the structure.  The remainder came screaming in on the
suddenly exposed Eva-02.  Asuka's head had only barely turned at the
first explosion when the trio of missiles arrived.

      The first struck at the hip joint, shoving the Eva sideways like a
blow from a Titan.  The second was a clean miss caused by that motion,
its rocket exhaust played across the plug socket cover with blowtorch
heat for the instants it spent thundering past.  The last had time to
correct, and smashed into the joint between the arm and aircraft latch
point.

      Melissa stared for a long, indeterminate moment.  "Damage on-02?"
she heard herself ask from behind her fog of pure disbelief.

      "Ah...right arm is gone, looks like the hit carried into the chest
cavity, the right ribs are cracked but seem to be holding.  Right hip
is fractured at the femur and socket, major damage to pelvis and lower
spinal cord.  She's done for."  Chief Cramer opined, the bald spot no
one had quite had the guts to mention yet reflecting the overhead lights
as he shook his head in mock dismay.

----------

      Tessa realized she'd been holding her breath ever since the
display had dissolved to static, and peered anxiously down range.
Seconds passed, and a red and white head and torso painfully teetered
into view opposite of the gaping wound caused by her errant missile
like a falling oak, slamming to the ground with a 'thump' she could feel
through the soles of her feet.

      "Ok.  By the Book," she murmured, taking aim with her battle
rifle.  'Center the target.'

      'Wait for the tone,' she reminded herself once the pipper
settled.

      'Squeeze the trigger.'


Hamburg
Federal Republic of Germany
September 8, 2015
6:00AM Local Time

      Asuka Soryu-Langley leaned against the starboard rail of the fast
transport Othello, and stared out across the oily waters of the city
harbor, uncharacteristically lost in thought.

      "Not much use against an Angel, but still impressive, isn't it?"
A familiar voice commented behind her.

      "Hey, Kaji!"  Asuka perked up somewhat at his arrival. "Say
again?"

      Ryoji waved a hand out in the direction she'd been staring.  "Our
esteemed escorts."

      Waiting outside the harbor mouth was a sizable portion of the UN
Atlantic Fleet.  At the core of the circular formation was the Terrible,
a 'light' aircraft carrier massing forty-five thousand tons and home to
a thirty-eight strong air group.  An interesting mix of ex-US, Russian,
and French warships kept it company as it idled on the horizon.

      Asuka snorted.  "Admiral Nelson's fleet was 'impressive' too, but
I wouldn't want to be anywhere near an Angel on one of those sail-
powered coffins either."

      "Its not so bad as all that..." Kaji demurred, trailing off as a
crewman walked past on some vital errand before they cast off to join
the fleet.  "...but I agree I'd be just as happy to watch any Angels
from behind something a little sturdier than this," he thumped the three
centimeter thick steel coaming.  He carefully ignored his charge's
adoring gaze and asked, "So, ready for your big debut?" knowing it was
all but a rhetorical question.

      "You'd better believe it." Asuka grinned. "If a relic like Eva-01
can handle these freaks, it ought to be a cakewalk for some -real-
firepower."

       //Glen Larson & Stu Phillips "Battlestar Galactica theme"//

      A blast from the ship's whistle drowned out further reply,
Signaling the line handlers to take in some of the thick cables holding
the transport to the concrete quay.  A subsonic rumble in the deck
plates indicated the massive diesels had coughed to life, followed by a
second blast to take in the remaining lines.

      The rumble increased, a boil of water at the stern announcing
the captain had reversed engines, and the quay began sliding slowly
past.  A trio of waiting tugs nuzzled up to the transport's bulk once it
cleared its berth and began gently nudging it around to point at the
main channel.  Finally, the engine's pitch changed again, and their view
of the harbor began sliding slowly sternward.

      "Finally, I thought I'd never get out of here."  Asuka complained.

      Ryoji merely allowed himself a private smile, and neglected to
comment on the wistful expression she wore as she stared at her homeland
passing behind them.  'Enjoy it while you can, kiddo,' he thought as he
leaned on the railing beside her, knowing the truth of 'you can never go
home again.'


Nerv-3
Boston
September 9, 2015
8:00PM Local Time

      "Alright, let's take it from the top." Melissa sighed and rubbed
her eyes with one hand.

      "Yes, ma'am.  Resetting."  Tessa resignedly confirmed.  If she'd
been in any danger of getting a swelled head from her recent victory,
her instructor had swiftly defused it with a scathing running commentary
on the replay involving such choice phrases as 'incoming fire has the
right of way' and 'God watches over Children and fools.'

      "The three times daily sim runs with it set on 'You Will Not
Survive' helped," she muttered, as she rolled her shoulders and tried
to get the crick out of her neck.  Sgt. Major Mao was obviously a
believer in making training so insanely difficult that the real thing
would feel like a breeze.

----------

      Melissa frowned in frustration.  This was the fourth time they'd
run this sim, and things were not improving.  Much as she hated to admit
it, pilot error was probably not the issue here.  The sensor suite
fitted to the American 'Trebuchet' Evas was identical to that fitted to
the US Navy's next generation missile destroyers.  Combining four phased
array radars capable of outputting six megawatts each with a laser radar
or 'lidar' for high resolution imaging, it was more than capable of
tracking targets the size of a baseball all the way to low orbit.  And
therein lay the problem.  Computers could handle much of the grunt work
involved in filtering bogus contacts and calculating threat values, but
in its natural habitat of a ship at sea the SPY-4B was served by a crew
of four who did nothing but monitor and synthesize the still enormous
flow of data.

      "Penny for 'em, Chief?"  Melissa asked the stocky dark-skinned man
at the console.

      "I think the lab coat brigade should've checked with an adult
before they added another shiny toy,"  Cramer replied disgustedly.

      Melissa grunted a laugh.  "Fair enough, but we're stuck with it,"
she reminded him.  On the main monitor a bird's eye view showed Eva-03
in battle with a team of simulated Angels. Eva-03 barely dodged a
swipe from a clawed hand and took a snap shot at the humanoid opponent
based on the first invader standing off and blazing away with its
particle cannon.  The shot went wide, but she didn't have time for a
follow up as another claw lashed out from the opponent before her,
forcing her to leap back again.

      Melissa leaned forwards and pointed at the screen.  "This is what
I'm talking about.  Her Aegis system -has- to know about that bogey
closing in from her four o'clock, but she's so wrapped up in dealing
with these jackasses she won't know a thing about it until the AT field
warning goes off."

      "So can't we widen the parameters on the automatic alert program?
Maybe set the range limit farther out?"

      "No, that only makes the problem worse.  We had to set it short
because a system that powerful detects -everything.-  We're dealing
with information overload as it is."

      "There's always -that- idea..."  Cramer suggested sourly.

      "Uh huh.  And you sound as thrilled with it as I am,"  Melissa
smirked dryly.  The proposal in question was that since the on-board
computing power of the Eva was inadequate to the task of analyzing
the incoming data, the Magi supercomputers at Nerv HQ could take up the
slack.  On paper it looked reasonable.  The Evas were equipped with a
high bandwidth laser communication unit that could link to the UN
satellite network with little risk of interception or tampering, and the
Magi were more than capable of handling the processing requirements.  It
was the idea of relying on an off-platform system to handle such a
critical task, and all the possibilities for Demon Murphy that entailed,
that gave both the NCOs and the local Nerv techs hives.

      Cramer snorted.  "Yeah, I can just see it.  An angel's
approaching, and then a thunderstorm rolls in and blocks the
connection."

      "Don't even joke,"  Melissa grimaced.  On screen, Eva-03 succumbed
to its foes once more, as a whip-like appendage sliced through the
clumsily club-wielded rifle to skewer the Eva's core.  "That's enough
for one day, Testarossa.  Clean up and I'll meet you and Roberts for
debriefing in twenty minutes."  The pilot acknowledged without bothering
to hide her relief.  "That reminds me, how'd Roberts do?"

      "Not any better.  He got a piece of one of the Gojiras all four
times and killed one once, but Tentacle Boy reamed him twice.  In the
other one of the terrible two took him before their bro could
interfere."

      That didn't surprise Melissa in the least.  Of the pair, Tessa
Was far and away the better at multi-tasking.  Sam probably locked onto
one of them and tried to beat the hell out of it, and against multiple
opponents that was a bad mistake.

      "Looks like we were right after all.  Go ahead and run up a
baseline for each of them and call it a night."

      "Can do," Cramer agreed emphatically

----------

      The mood that greeted Melissa when she entered the small anteroom
outside the showers was tense.  Tessa was staring at the floor and
drooping in exhaustion, but still managing to radiate a quiet
belligerence.  Sam had had the benefit of a short rest while Tessa went
through her paces.  For that reason, the signs of fatigue were less
severe, and it showed in the obvious effort it took for him to keep his
mouth shut.

      "As I'm sure you guessed, this last scenario wasn't supposed to
be survivable,"  Melissa began in a much softer voice than her usual
parade ground harangue.  "In fact, the scoring system is set up so that
killing single opponent counts as a passing grade.  I'm not sure I agree
with that, but there it is.  Now, a final quiz.  Who can tell me why I
ran you both through the wringer tonight?"

      Tessa raised her head.  "To make sure we knew we weren't ten feet
tall and bulletproof when we got to Japan.  It worked, by the way."

      "Glad to hear it," Melissa replied crisply, and meant it. "And
yeah, that's a part of the reason.  Roberts, care to try your luck?"

      Sam shook his head.  "That would've been my guess too, ma'am."

      "Let me put it this way.  Let's say you face something like this,
one fine day.  Outnumbered, outgunned, no chance of winning.  Do you
fight?"

      Tessa responded immediately.  "Not unless there's something worth
losing a pilot or Eva behind me."

      "Fair enough."

      "No,"  Sam agreed, once Melissa looked to him for his answer.
"I don't believe in suicide missions."

      "Good answers, you're both a credit to your teacher,"  Melissa
nodded in satisfaction.  "Now, here's the lesson.  Heroes happen when
somebody fucks up.  Had you checked your maps you'd have seen this,"
Melissa brought up a file on her tablet computer and turned it so they
could see.

      Sam moaned in disgust. "So instead of hopping around in the open
like a jackrabbit we could've been hunkered down in that valley?!"

      "With covered flanks and a nice flat plain at the mouth," Tessa
stared at the contour map of the area. "It would've been like a shooting
gallery."

      "Yep.  These sims are probably the best training tools I've ever
heard of, but they do tend to make you subconsciously limit yourselves.
I've seen it in the others too, all of you tend to stay right near the
area you start in, like there were ropes around it like a boxing ring.
Think of this as reality check."

      The two soon to be pilots nodded soberly.

      Melissa contemplated the teens she'd somehow, over the past weeks,
managed to shape into something that looked like soldiers if you
squinted a bit. 'The world could be in worse hands,' she finally
decided. 'Much worse.'  "Good.  Now for something completely different.
This evening also proved that you'd have to be a professional organist
to use Eva-03 to its full potential.  So, since we're a little short on
those at the moment, we're going to improvise a bit.  Grab some sack
time, I've got something to show you in the morning."

----------

      'Something' was what had become of a spare display and a surplus
entry plug.  The simulator's original pilot's seat had been shifted
backward by about thirty centimeters and raised by about ten, the
electronics module was shifted about that forwards to create just
enough room to shoehorn in a second seat with a forty-five centimeter
display in front of it.

      "Looks like a Comanche's cockpit,"  Sam commented, remembering
photos he'd seen of the canceled attack helicopter's setup.

      "Exactly.  Flying a helicopter in combat is one of the most
demanding tasks a pilot can perform.  That's why there are always two
aboard,"  Melissa agreed.  "Based on your sim records, we've decided to
see if both of you together are an improvement.  I can't see how it
couldn't be."

      Neither pilot was offended.  After getting screamed at and run
ragged fourteen hours a day every day, they'd long ago realized that
Melissa wasn't -actually- a sadistic bitch from Hell.  She was, however,
bound and determined to give them the best preparation she possibly
could for what they would face.  If hurt feelings were the price to pay,
then so be it.

      Melissa pointed a thumb at the front seat.  "Roberts, you'll start
out in the gunner's seat.  Testarossa, you'll take the pilot's.  After
a couple runs, we'll switch.  Move,"  she commanded, turning towards
the control room.


UNS Fearless
1200 kilometers west of Guam
September 10, 2015.
1:30PM Local Time

      Rear Admiral Izuo Takaya leaned against the rail surrounding the
wing of his carrier's flag bridge, forty meters above the white-capped
waters of the western Pacific, short black hair blowing in the breeze
generated by the ship's passage.  Sipping hot tea from an engraved mug
his daughter had bought him for his fiftieth birthday, and which he had
refused to part with in the years since, he surveyed his command.
Spread before him was a large minority of the UN Pacific Fleet's
firepower, though his entire force numbered less than a dozen ships.

      Officially, and most of the time in practice, the UN Peace
Enforcement Forces functioned more as extremely well armed and trained
police rather than a traditional military.  The naval branch was no
exception, most of its approximately one hundred vessels were destroyer
size or smaller, sailing in squadrons of around half a dozen to show the
flag and provide a small quick response force should a crisis break out.
The Fearless' battlegroup, and its sister formations centered around
Terrible and Nike, were the 'muscle' their smaller comrades called upon
when a more measured response had failed.

      The Admiral's staff kept busy inside the glazed in confines of
his domain, familiar with their boss' after lunch ritual.  A pair of
young lieutenants arranged the manila folders containing the routine,
and most likely eye-wateringly dull, briefing concerning proposed
changes to fleet maintenance procedures.

      Izuo turned at the sound of the hatch opening to the wind swept
outside deck.  "I trust we're ready to begin, Josef?"

      "Yes sir,"  The Hungarian captain responded as one dark brown
eyebrow rose ironically.  "Commander Simmons promises we'll all be
enthralled for the next hour."

      "Coming from him, that's much less than reassuring,"  Izuo
grimaced, knowing well his chief of staff's perhaps excessive enjoyment
of his work.  "Best be..."

      A tremble in the deck plates beneath them stopped him mid-
sentence.  Seconds later, the scream of tortured metal and 'crump' of a
collapsing hull reached them from the outer escort ring surrounding the
carrier and its companion transports Othello and Wayfarer.  Izuo and his
staff stared in mute horror at the grave of the destroyer Hawkwing,
before he wrestled his gaze away and barked "Well?!  Are you planning to
stand here all day?"  The others sprang towards their stations like
magnetized billiard balls.

      After sloshing his mug's contents over the rail, he followed at
a more sedate and, hopefully, confidence inducing pace. 'It seems its
going to be one of -those- days.'

----------

      Asuka was spending one of her comparatively rare moments in her
cabin aboard Wayfarer when she noticed the first tremor. 'ASW practice,'
she surmised, remembering the last fleet exercise pitting the three Kilo
class submarines accompanying the fleet against a squadron of its
escorting frigates and destroyers.  Again, the eighty thousand ton
freighter trembled, this time enough to swing the light fixture hanging
from the deckhead.  She lowered the catalog she'd been perusing.
'Either the UN's taken to putting N2 warheads on its practice torpedoes,
or...' She leaped off of her bed and dove for the closet.

----------

      "Tempest reports breaches across all decks, abandoning ship,"
The speakers in the carrier's Combat Information Center reported
dispassionately.  "Osprey reports heavy damage to aft engineering
spaces and is losing speed."

      Izuo tuned out the litany of the destruction of his command, and
focused on the illuminated plasma display making up most of the darkened
room's sole table.  "All ships accelerate to flank speed and maneuver
independently, make sure they watch their separations.  Jozef, turn us
into the wind and get the air group launched," he looked up at his chief
of staff.  "Find out what Osprey's best speed is, and if they'll
need assistance.  And contact Sydney and request N2 authorization," he
finished calmly.

      He swore behind the iron mask of his expression as his aides
carried out his orders.  The news of an Angel, and that's what this
almost had to be, striking so far from Japan would hit Pacific Fleet
headquarters like a thunderbolt, and that was all but certain to slow
any useful response.  Napoleon Bonaparte had famously said, 'ask me for
anything but time,' and it was as true now as it was in the wars that
bore his name.

      A sidebar on the screen listing remaining weapons in inventory
blinked slowly lower as he waited for his opponent's next move.  So did
the shorter list of the ships in his care.

----------

      "Activating first stage connections."  Asuka muttered while her
view screens blinked to life and promptly hazed with static from the
inactive sensors.  "Battery status...nominal.  Core online.  Life
support standby.  Active sensors to standby.  Optical array online.
Second stage connection...set."  She reported out loud by sheer force
of habit, continuing her extremely abridged startup checklist.
"Propulsion self-test suspended."  She took a deep breath, and
instinctively felt outwards along the traces of her connection
to her steed.  "Third stage connection in two...one...synchro start,"
she firmly pressed the green button so marked on her console.

      "All right, let's go,"  she murmured, and Eva-02 rose from its
slumber.  The scene greeting her was a nightmare of pillars of smoke
rising to the heavens, with the blazing trails of weapons fire mingling
with the flames of burning fuel oil oozing from the wreckage of a once
proud fleet.  Even as she watched the Angel locked onto the Wayfarer, a
Harper's Ferry-class transport accompanying Fearless.  Streaking in at a
speed belying its bulk, the absurdly manta ray-like creature flicked
almost casually against the vessel's port side.  For a long second, the
ship rolled drunkenly, but appeared unharmed.  Only then did Asuka
notice the steadily widening breach becoming visible from below the
waterline.  As the ship began to list ever more alarmingly, an ugly
blossom of soot streaked fire bloomed from its crippled side.

      'The point defense missile magazine must have let go.'  Asuka
realized numbly. 'My God, there was an entire battalion of Marines
aboard that ship.'

      Eva-02's tactical system had automatically tracked the Angel,
now it directed her attention to the creature skimming just under the
sea surface like some sort of aquatic missile.  Right for her.

      She commanded her communications system to connect to Fearless.
In a clear, steady voice she announced, "Signal to the Flag.  Eva-02
online.  Launching."

         //Metallica "The Call of Ktulu" _Ride the Lightning_//

      The Angel didn't bother with any fancy tricks this time, it simply
rammed Othello head on, and the bow of the lightly built transport
crumpled like a soda can as the massive transport shuddered to a halt as
if it had run aground.  Eva-02 was long gone.  After leaping from her
doomed ship, she'd twisted midair to land on the forecastle of a UN
destroyer holding station nearby, smashing its forward 127mm gun to
scrap with her armor shod foot.

      'I think I need a bigger boat,' Asuka murmured before spotting the
Angel coming around for another pass at her new and precarious perch.
She leaped again, this time smashing a frigate's helicopter pad in
passing on her way to Fearless.  'I'm going to look like such an ass if
this doesn't work,' a detatched corner of her mind commented at the top
of her ballistic arc, terminating at, she hoped, the flagship's flight
deck.  "Eva-02 inbound, clear the deck!"

      Two bus sized feet sledgehammered into the carrier's deck backed
with 750 tons of metal and mean, deforming the armored surface down
over a meter.  After a harrowing moment correcting the rolling her
landing induced, she returned her attention outside.  Her foe had
obligingly followed her, and even now was arrowing in under a rooster
tail of spray.

      Asuka had never been a religious girl, but a psalm was on her lips
as she watched the Angel approach.

        "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I
fear no evil.  For I drive the biggest, baddest, meanest motherfucker in
the whole damn valley!"

      With that, she deployed a progressive knife from its forearm
sheath, her beloved pistols most likely on the bottom of the Pacific by
now, and set herself to meet the Angel's charge.

----------

      Izuo stared in rank disbelief at the monitor reporting the
spectacle unfolding on his flight deck.  Though he'd been courteous, if
distant, to his two passengers, within he'd been bitter at the
assignment his fleet had been handed by Sydney, a mere delivery run for
a jumped up civilian agency's newest toy.  About the best that could be
said for it was that he'd have plenty of time to work out the rough
spots in some of his crews.

      Five ships, and hundreds of lives later, he was a believer.  His
fleet had engaged with everything from 65cm torpedoes from his
submarines to 152mm shells from the ex-Kirov, now Broadsword.  He'd have
done as well to throw his coffee mug at it.

      And now, it had come for him at last.  With the transport
Destroyed and losses mounting, it was now pointless to continue the
engagement.  Izuo had been on the edge of ordering the fleet to scatter
and clear the area for a nuclear strike when the girl had started her
insane hopscotch run to Fearless.  Her machine stood with its left foot
behind the right and turned ninety degrees to one side, mass centered in
a knifefighter's stance, gripping its enormous boxcutter-like weapon in
its right hand icepick fashion.  The monster unerringly homed in, and at
the last instant leaped for the Eva like a breaching whale, its massive
bulk seeming to impossibly float on the air as its jaws filled with rows
of monstrous fangs gaped wide.

      Quick as thought, the Eva moved.  A single shuffled step to one
side and a lightning fast duck got her below the Angel's trajectory,
followed by a twist of the hips and torso to place the full power of
its artificial muscles behind her blade to send the monster sailing past
trailing a streamer of bluish ichor into the sea off the carrier's port
side.

      The order was out of Izuo's mouth without conscious thought.  "All
ships!  Time on target, now!"

----------

  "Good thinking, Admiral.  But it's not enough." Asuka opined as the
remaining ships abruptly ceased maneuvers and opened up with every
weapon that would bear, the concentrated firepower of the fleet ripping
at the Angel's AT field.  Her foe staggered, but still forged ahead at
reduced speed.  Gravely wounded, but obviously still game for a fight,
the Angel passed under the now rather ragged escort ring and reversed
course, bearing down on her once more.

  Asuka was willing to oblige.  Staring intently at her enemy as it
closed, she vaguely remembered seeing something very interesting as it
rose from the waves. If she was right, there might be a way to end this
quickly yet.

  The Angel was a quick study.  Disdaining attacking the Eva directly,
it scorched in just under the surface, intent on disabling Fearless.  As
the jaws opened once more to slice the warship from stem to stern below
the waterline, Asuka saw it.  Deep within the inky darkness of its maw,
a ruddy glow.

  The escort's fire slackened as the range to the flagship dropped,
as did the waterspouts from the explosions against the Angel.  Asuka
once more set herself, gauged the range, and threw.

  Her left side Type 2 progressive knife sliced through the air, warning
light still glowing as it splashed into the sea at a significant
fraction of the speed of sound, and struck the Angel's core with the
force of an 18 wheeler.

  Moments later, the ship lurched and rolled once more, forcing the
Eva to its knees.


Tokyo-3
September 11, 2015
9:00AM Local Time

      Nami stood with her nose literally pressed against the glass of
the tram car as it circled the geofront walls towards Central Dogma.
The morning sun lit the interior of the artificial cavern in brilliant
shafts through the light collectors in the mountains, giving an almost
ethereal quality to the scene.  She turned to Han for his reaction, to
find him sitting stiff as a board on his bench, staring fixedly at the
seat ahead of him.

      "Han~!" she complained. "You've got to see this!  Come on!"  she
took him by the upper arm and tried to drag him to the big Plexiglas
window making up the front of the car.

      "No~, no I don't," he argued quite emphatically in the same voice.

      She gave up trying to pull someone nearly twice her mass and
Stepped back, hands on her hips.  "Why not?  It's a beautiful view from
up here and..." her gaze sharpened at his suppressed shudder.  "You're
afraid of heights,"  she pronounced with the certainty of Solomon.  "But
that can't be, you've climbed a rope and used a drag line plenty of
times, I've seen it,"  Nami continued in disbelief.

      Han's lips tightened in a grimace.  "I can keep it under control
most of the time, especially if there's something underneath me," he
admitted slowly.  "But yes."  'Here it comes,' he winced inside.
'First she rips a strip off me, then she drops me like a rotten onion.
Well, having a girlfriend was fun while it lasted.'

      Nami snorted to herself, Han's thoughts plain on his face.  It was
obvious that should she so much as snicker, it would crush him.  'Idiot.
As if a coward would volunteer for this job.  He must have been scared
out of his mind for some of the things we went through, but I never 
would have known he was more than just a little nervous about screwing
up.'  Nami thought in unalloyed admiration. "Well, we can't have
-that-," she held out her hand in invitation.  "Come on.  I'll be right
here."

      Han looked up from his study of the seat back in front of him, and
into the gently smiling girl swaying automatically against the motion of
the tram.  For a long moment he stared into a pair of chocolate brown
eyes.  Finally, he took her hand.

      "Ok, but this had better be worth it," he warned her with a
self-mocking smile.


Nerv-3
Boston
7:00PM Local Time

      Tessa stepped out from the showers, scrubbing her hair with
the towel before putting it back into her accustomed braid.  Upon
dressing back into the t-shirt and exercise shorts that were her and
Sam's unofficial uniforms, she proceeded to the small conference room
Mao used for their end of the day debriefing.

      "Right, now that we're all here, I've got a special announcement
for you,"  Melissa began, privately relishing the swiftly hidden dread
on her trainee's faces.  "The good news is, Director Walkerton tells me
Eva-03 passed its final checks with flying colors this afternoon."

      "And the bad news?"  Tessa asked after a moment's pause.

      "None.  The Atlas we were waiting on is due to arrive from Wichita
the day after tomorrow, so you two have that morning to pack and be
ready to roll by noon.  Because we have a bit of time on our hands,
though, we're going to go ahead and do Eva-03's activation test later
on tonight."

      The pair's eyes widened slightly.  With an unconscious synchrony
born of eight weeks of living in close quarters, the pair turned to
each other.  "One, two, three, shoot."  Tessa called, her hand forming
'paper.'  She repeated twice more, forming rock the next time and paper
the final one.

      "Huh.  Well, that's life,"  Sam shrugged resignedly.  "When do you
need me, ma'am?" he asked his bemused training officer.

      Melissa's eyes crinkled at the edges, the sole sign of amusement
she'd allow herself in front of her charges.  "Cute.  But not what I
had in mind."


11:30PM Local Time

      Sam stared up at the gargantuan form of Eva-03 from the waist
level catwalk in something approaching awe.  It was easy to forget while
riding inside one the sheer scale of an Eva, especially since all of the
equipment in Nerv-3 was of matching size.  Turning away, he glanced
upwards to the shoulder level bridge leading to the entry plug.  Tessa
stood in her tan and white plugsuit talking to the Eva's crew chief,
before clambering aboard the entry plug racked nearby.  After taking a
final look at the navy blue mecha, he ambled over to the small elevator
at the end of the bridge.

----------

      The stars twinkled above Nerv-3, and the glow of Boston's light
pollution was just visible on the horizon.  A series of rotating hazard
lights complemented by the mournful wail of a warning siren spoiled the
calm of the night.  Seconds later, the massive doors built into the
side of the hill hiding the Nerv facility began to rumble open.

      Waiting behind the massive doors was a platform on rails of equal
size, bearing the prone Eva through the gate trailing a thick gray
power cable.  Once the assemblage had cleared the gate, a quartet of
hydraulic rams on the platform began to slowly tilt the upper surface
and its cargo perpendicular to the ground.

      Tessa scanned her display panel after the thump signaling her
machine was in position.  "Confirm platform deployed.  Standing by," she
radioed after completing the last few items on the checklist.

      "Roger that, Eva-03.  You are go for first stage connection."

      "Copy.  Beginning now."  Tessa's right arm reached around to the
side of the seat and closed a knife switch that had previously been
interrupting any signals from the plug to the Eva.  With that, the
cockpit displays sprang to life in a series of test patterns before
settling down to the familiar logo of the OS starting up.  Once the
center display of the stock, single seat, plug arrived at the default
screen depicting battery life, a compressed top down view of the 
surrounding terrain, currently displaying only the geographic data it
had on-board, and power status, currently blinking 0:00 in red for
battery life and that external power was connected in green.  The two 
flanking displays were still dark, awaiting her choices in their data.
"So far so good," she murmured "though of course that's what the jumper
said as he passed the 10th floor," she finished one of Melissa's
favorite lines.  "First stage connection complete. Power connection
nominal.  Batteries offline," she informed the controllers still within
the base, and on the other end of the datalink to Tokyo-3.

      "Very well.  We confirm all monitors within tolerances.  Begin
second stage at your discretion,"  Melissa responded, not even a whisper
of tension in her voice.

      Tessa acknowledged, and tapped the controls bringing up her
external sensors, the big wraparound displays on the inner wall of the
cockpit flaring through their own test patterns before settling on a
crystal clear view of the outside world, a few data tags popping up
moments later as the tactical systems identified some of the radio and
infrared emissions from stored files.  'The 3:10 to Yuma is running
late,' she absently noted the European built airliner climbing from the
rebuilt Logan international, its passengers oblivious to the events
below them.

      "All passive sensors online.  Active systems powered up and on
standby.  Fire control offline.  Master arm safe," she double checked
the large white switch on her control panel with its distinctive red
cover, indicating the Eva's weapons were powered down and unable to
fire.  'Nothing in the guns anyway, but we might as well be thorough,'
Tessa quirked a pale imitation of her usual cheerful smile.  "Core
powering up in 3..2..1...Second stage complete."

      "Copy, Eva-03,"  A long pause broken only by the low, almost
inaudible hum of the power cable communication line.  "We show a green
board here.  Initiate final connections."

      Tessa very deliberately did not think of a certain previous
post-refit activation, and keyed her microphone to acknowledge the
order.  "Confirm go for final connections," she replied.  Closing her
eyes, she laid one hand gently on the green button covered by its own
shield and took a pair of deep slow breaths, clearing her mind.
Finally, she pressed the button flat.

      In previous simulator runs, she and the other pilots had
experienced many times the cardinal sensations of synchronizing with an
Evangelion.  Transient nausea, disorientation, and a feeling of being
somehow stretched were by now so familiar as to be beneath notice.  That
only made the -new- ones all the more intense.  On the heels of the
initial nausea came a rush of a bone-deep warmth, as if she had just
stepped into a summer sunbeam from the chilly New England fall.  Mixed
within the overriding sensation were strains of comfort and safety,
flickering across her emotional landscape before vanishing under the
overriding theme.

      Slowly, she opened her eyes once more, the pinpricks of light
sparkling above her greeting her upturned gaze.  "Eva-03 here," she
radioed after a long, quiet moment.  "Synchronization complete."


Nerv HQ
Tokyo-3
September 14, 2015
5:30PM Local Time

      Asuka lay on the issue bed wedged into one corner of the
windowless, somber room she'd been assigned in the geofront's dormitory
'pending final quartering arrangements.'  One slim hand was tangled in
long auburn hair near the old style interface clip she used to hold it
out of her face.

      The other paged through another catalog, purses and handbags this
time, which did its best to distract her from the mix of crushing
boredom and maddening 'jumping out of her skin' itch she'd felt from
practically the moment she'd stepped from Eva-02's entry plug almost a
week ago.  Admiral Takaya had been the soul of courtesy as the crippled
force limped the rest of the way to Japan, in spite of her destruction
of hundreds of millions of dollars worth of equipment between dumping
half his air group in the Pacific with her landing, the divots she left
in his flight deck, and the assorted damage she'd done to several of
Fearless' escorts.  Of course, saving the -rest- of his fleet in the
process of all that hadn't hurt.

      But once she'd changed back into 'mufti', she became just another
pretty teenage girl in a dress.  Not necessarily to the Fearless' crew,
many of whom had saluted with real respect when she passed them in the
flagship's passageways, never mind she was a civilian and half most of
their ages, and she basked in it like a lizard on a sunny day.  But the
feeling was related to the reason she was never without her headband,
and why she'd kept her plugsuit in her closet when it made as much sense
to leave it in the Eva.

      She was the Second Child, Pilot of Eva-02.

      Everything else, the glow of other's adulation, the adrenaline
rush of launching herself into battle with the foes of humanity, the 
pride of being the best there was at a difficult and dangerous job, and
a thousand and one other feelings all boiled and swirled together in a
complex, heady brew, but the kettle that held it all was as simple as
its cast-iron counterpart. Without it, the rest was as nothing.

      Which in part explained why, when Misato knocked on her door,
she all but launched herself at the handle before reining herself in and
proceeding the last meter at an almost bored pace.

      "Evening, Misato."

      "Heya, Asuka.  Ready?"

      "Are you kidding?  Let me out of here,"  Asuka snorted as she
turned and locked the door.

      "That's the spirit!"  Misato chirped.  "A nice, friendly..."
'Read: boozy'  Asuka mentally substituted, having visited similar events
in Germany, "party should be just the thing to get everyone off on the
right foot,"  Misato nodded to herself while they walked to the
escalator to the parking garage.

      The two women engaged as in a spate of polite chit-chat as the
escalator carried them along, catching up until they arrived at Misato's
parking spot.

      "They let -you- have one of these?"  Asuka grinned delightedly at
the sight of the Alpine 310 occupying it.  "But what's with the duct
tape?" Asuka frowned and leaned closer to examine the strips holding the
headlight lens in place, complemented by the strips wrapped around the
driver side mirror and, she saw as Misato unlocked the door, some of the
upholstery.

      "It's all the rage in Japan, you see it everywhere," Misato
replied with a sour look.

      "Uh huh,"  Asuka spied the cracks in the door frame not covered
and replied, "What really happened?"

      "I -don't- want to talk about it,"  Misato grumbled as the Alpine
reached the exit ramp.  With a wave at the guard in the kiosk, Misato
cruised past the striped barrier, turned onto the ring road circling
Tokyo-3, and put the pedal to the floor.

             //Sammy Hagar "I Can't Drive 55" _Unboxed_//

       Asuka replied with a joyous whoop.  "I could never convince Hilde
-this- is how you're supposed to drive!"

      Misato laughed over the wind noise from the rolled down windows.

----------

      Shinji wished, not for the first time, that his guardian had a
wider selection of beverages than 'beer, beer, and Mesozoic-era tea' in
stock, the latter found in the back of a cupboard and likely left over
from the last tenant.  Of course, springing the idea on him about an
hour ago hadn't helped the situation.

      'At least she's paying for all this,'  the allowance his contract
granted him was decent, but still.  Regardless, he did feel a little
proud of his efforts, even though most of it had consisted of buying
assorted snack foods and beverages and some last minute cleaning.

      The distinctive ping of the elevator at the end of the hall
announced the first arrivals, most likely Misato and Eva-02's pilot,
Asuka Soryu-Langley.  Fighting the urge to fidget as the sound of
footsteps grew outside the door, he listened intently.

      "...on in.  Shinji's done a nice job with the place," Misato
remarked just before the door opened.

      "So it's just dirty instead of a pit?" a girl's voice answered her
as Shinji rose to greet them in the entryway, unsure whether to flush at
the compliment or frown at the response.  He rounded the corner to find
his roommate in the familiar routine of hanging up her red uniform
jacket and beret in the hall closet, leaving her in her usual short
black dress.  Her companion was another matter.

      The somewhat dated file photo for Asuka Soryu-Langley showed an
auburn haired, mostly Caucasian girl of about twelve, sky blue eyes
focused sternly on the camera, who might have been cute if not for the
intensity of her expression.  What greeted him now was a leggy, trim
figured girl his age in a yellow sun dress, hair held back with some
sort of headband that reminded him of nothing so much as a pair of shiny
red horns, with a sardonic smirk at Misato's sideways glare from her
previous comment.

      "Ah, here he is,"  Misato took the opportunity to change the
subject.  "Shinji, this is Asuka Soryu-Langley, Eva-02's pilot.  Asuka,
Shinji Ikari of Eva-01."

      Shinji bowed a polite distance.  "Pleased to meet you," he greeted
her, managing to speak the formal phrase without stammering under her
keen gaze.

      After a long moment, Asuka finished her examination of her
counterpart, from neatly combed hair to sock covered feet, with black
slacks and an unbuttoned dress shirt over green t-shirt in between.  All
in all, not much like the case-hardened fighter she'd expected.
"Boring," she finally decided before she stepped past him into the
apartment's common area.

      Shinji turned a somewhat hurt look at Misato, receiving a
sympathetic shrug before following.

----------

      "When are the rest coming?" Asuka asked as she selected a soda
from the cooler and plopped down on the sofa.  Misato raised a mental
eyebrow at Asuka's behavior.  In Germany she'd been better mannered than
most of her classmates at the University, this was definitely new.  And
intriguing.  'A little insecure, are we Asuka?'  Misato smirked behind
a can of brew she'd retrieved from the kitchen fridge, pretending not to
notice Asuka's none too subtle efforts at ignoring her 'rival,'
currently sitting on the opposite side of the couch nursing a soda of
his own.

      "Fei and Lin are due soon.  Ritsuko, Dr. Akagi, is supposed to
bring Rei if she can pry herself from her desk in time," Misato rolled
her eyes heavenward.  "Roberts and Testarossa's flight was delayed, so
they only got in this morning and might not make it."

      Shinji winced in sympathy, twelve time zones worth of jet lag was
no joke.

      Asuka tipped her can back and nodded.

      Misato took the pause in conversation to congratulate herself on
her plan's success.  She'd had the idea for a meet and greet for the
pilots some time ago, but had early on decided to conduct a small
experiment.  Specifically, testing what would happen if she dropped the
idea of a social gathering on Shinji with no notice, and thus no time to
work himself into a panic.  Looking at the comprehensive selection of
snacks and drinks, the unusual even post-Shinji neatness of the living
room and kitchen, and the new outfit he'd changed into, all without more
than the barest suggestion he 'set things up here' she felt justified in
a little maternal pride.

      Shinji had apparently scrounged up enough nerve to ask Asuka about
her Eva, since she was declaiming its superiority at length. "Of course,
it was designed to correct all of the mistakes made in the prototype and
test models.  -And- it avoids the 'bells and whistles' approach of the
-other- production models," she bragged to the politely attentive pilot.

      "A real pilot's machine, then." Misato supplied, deciding to
reenter the conversation. "We'll have to get the others checked out on
it," she nonchalantly added, pretending not to notice her target's
nostrils flare in anger.  Suppressing a smirk, she turned to Shinji.
"Which reminds me, how'd your latest test go?"

      "Good.  I came up a point."

      "From what?"  Asuka asked with studied indifference.

      "Sixty-three."

      "Decent,"  Asuka grudgingly allowed, taking a sip from her soda.

      "Not half bad for someone who only started about two months ago,"
Misato agreed wholeheartedly.

      And up the soda went.  "What!  How could he possibly have improved
forty points in that time!  That's impossible!" Asuka protested as she
futilely tried to control the fizzing in her sinuses.

      "He didn't,"  Misato replied seriously.

      "Then how..."

      "He started at forty-one."

----------

      Asuka turned to stare incredulously at the quiet boy seated beside
her.  'That's half again my starting score!  And he's only been doing
this for two months?!  But that must mean...'  "Your first mission.  It
was also your first time to pilot."

      "Yes,"  Shinji confirmed with a shrug.  "I've gotten better."

      "That's," Asuka struggled a moment, recalling the footage she'd
seen.  The first thirty seconds or so had been an unmitigated disaster,
Eva-01 had stumbled around like a drunkard and got its ass handed to it
by the Angel, but given the aggressively competent counterattack he'd
launched right afterwards she'd put it down to control problems in the
demonstrably unstable Test type.  Though the dog's breakfast he'd made
of the second attack made a lot more sense... "Well, at least we've got
a -real- pilot on staff now."

      "I'd say he and Rei have paid their dues, under the
circumstances," Misato corrected.  "But no one is happier than I am to
have more minions," she chuckled.

      "Empire builder."  Asuka muttered.

      The doorbell's chime signaled the next arrivals.  "Come on,
Shinji.  Time to play host,"  Misato nudged him with a foot as she
unfolded herself from the beanbag on the floor.

---------

      "For heaven's sake Han.  Its a party, not a funeral,"  Nami
complained not for the first time, eying the small bouquet her
boyfriend carried.  "Or a date."

      Han maintained a stoic silence and pressed the doorbell.  Before
she could make another, admittedly only half serious, complaint the door
slid open to reveal their new lady and mistress.

      "Hiya!  Oh thank you! I've got a vase perfect for these."  Misato
exclaimed on seeing the small bundle of mixed tulips and sprigs of some
small white flower Nami didn't recognize offhand.  Taking them from Han,
she turned to lead them inside.  Nami stole a glance as they removed
their shoes in the entryway, in hopes of catching any victorious smirk
at her expense.  Han, unsurprisingly, was solemn as a judge.

      No fool he.

-----------

      Shinji caught his first face to face look at his new comrades as
Misato turned away from the door.  Nami smiled a greeting once she'd
removed her shoes, and introduced herself and her companion.  The boy
was dressed in khaki slacks and a white button down shirt similar to
his, a brown leather belt completing the picture.  The girl had,
unusually, though Shinji was unaware of it, chosen a brown knee length
skirt and light blue blouse combo, her ponytail swaying from her turn
to face him.

      Shinji responded in kind, not quite sure how to continue the
conversation.

      Fortunately, Nami had it covered. "Hey, we're glad to be here.
It's not every day you meet a hero."

      "I..."

      Nami steamrolled right over Shinji's stammer. "Anyone who even
climbs aboard one of those monsters is already brave, but if doing it
three times to go into combat, with no backup, doesn't qualify you
then I'd like to know what would!" she finished indignantly.

      'I forgot to say something. You did a good, brave thing today.'
Shinji shook off the memory of the first real praise he'd gotten in
Tokyo-3 and thought to reply.

      Misato beat him to the punch.  "Hey, no hogging the guests!" the
lady in question called from the kitchen.

      Shinji started, and gave an embarrassed smile.  "R-right, come
in."

----------

      Misato returned to the living room to find the new arrivals seated
together on the second couch and prodding Shinji into a description of
his last mission.

      Asuka's eyebrow twitched, a warning sign if Misato had ever seen
one. "Eh, not bad," she allowed.

      "But you could've done better,"  Han supplied the unspoken part of
Asuka's comment.

      Asuka shrugged. "Sure.  Look at the next time Ayanami went out.
That tin can shouldn't have been able to touch a well-handled Eva, but
look what happened."

      Shinji looked mutinous at that remark.  "I don't see how you could
have, in an Eva you'd never piloted before, with half its weapons
offline," he replied quietly.

      "I'd start by not standing still in front of God and radar inside
my enemy's effective range!"

      "She didn't have much choice," Nami broke in. "We tried it
afterwards in a sim, and neither of us could hit the joint reliably on
the move."

      "Evas don't seem to be very good gun platforms at a dead run," Han
added dryly.

      Misato took advantage of Asuka's annoyed sidelong look at the pair
to head off further discussion.  "Speaking of, your qualifiers will be
this Wednesday afternoon.  You'll hear more tomorrow at the official
orientation."

      "What are we being tested on?"

      "Pretty much like you'd expect.  Marksmanship, basic maneuvering,
some melee."  Misato grinned wickedly.  "But that's just the warm-up.
Afterwards, you have the Challenge Course."  At their curious/worried
looks, she continued with relish.  "It's a something we cooked up as a
kind of final exam, sort of a cross between an obstacle course and a
shooting house, to test everything you're supposed to have learned
before you came.  I hope you studied," she finished with a low chuckle.

      "We were going to run you through just as a baseline reading about
six weeks ago, but..." Misato answered Shinji's questioning look, too
quietly for the others to catch, and shrugged.

      Shinji nodded in understanding.  The Fourth Angel.  After that
he'd been pulled out of class for nearly two weeks for a crash course
in Eva piloting, often being given 'special' attention by the very girl
sitting not a meter from him, even now beginning the story of her
latest, and first, mission.  And of course after that there'd never
seemed to be time.

----------

      "So let me make sure I understand." Han asked some time later, in
a neutral voice suspicious to anyone who knew him. "After Ayanami took
me down, you continued to pursue Testarossa."

      "Of course," Asuka agreed, frowning at Nami's light touch on his
hand, ceasing only when withdrawing to pick up a drink. "I couldn't
afford to lose contact with her.  Besides, she was still engaged, there
was every reason to think you were still in the fight," she continued in
building outrage at the implied criticism.

      "Like the total lack of communications?"

      "We've had comm failures before!" Asuka snapped at Han.

      Misato broke in before he could retort. "That's enough.  Everyone
makes mistakes, the trick is not to make the same one twice," she
finished with a significant look at Asuka.

      The doorbell chimed in the lull, and Misato's voice carried from
the entryway once she and Shinji had answered.

      "Well, well!  The prodigal Doctor arrives at last!"

      "Some of us actually do something about it when our inbox is
overflowing," a female voice replied in a tone that just had to have an
amused smirk attached. "Hi, Shinji."

      "Hello, Doctor Akagi." Shinji continued more shyly, "Hello,
Ayanami."  Nami unsuccessfully fought a urchin-like grin at the second
greeting, Han merely raised an eyebrow at her.

      "Good evening, Ikari," a soft, flat voice replied, "Major
Katsuragi."

      "Come in, come in.  We have goodies for all." Misato replied
cheerfully over the soft rustle presumably of Shinji taking whatever
outerwear the two women had had.

      "And enough beer to float a battleship, I'd imagine." the blonde
replied over one shoulder as she entered the living room, lacking only
her white lab coat from her usual attire of a blue sleeveless zip top
and black skirt.  "And speaking of.  Welcome to Japan, Asuka."

      Asuka replied automatically, locked onto the girl trailing behind
Misato.  The bluenette in question was looking around the Major's
apartment in mild curiosity, dressed in what Asuka devoutly hoped to be
a school uniform of some sort, and not a demonstration of utter tone
deafness for anything resembling fashion.  Misato handled introductions
again, while Shinji fetched drinks for the new arrivals.

      'So, you're the wunderkind they sent instead of me.' Ikari had
been bad enough, but at least she could console herself with the
knowledge that the first two Evas weren't capable of handling her.  'But
Eva-02 wasn't that far behind -06 readiness-wise, and Stuttgart is a
-hell- of a lot closer to Moscow than Tokyo is!'

        The effusive praise Ayanami had gotten afterwards had only
soured a bad situation further.  -She- could've hit the damned cannon
and then peeled open that mech like a lobster!

      Instead, she got to hear about not only the deadly Third Child,
but -also- the First's 'coolheaded response to a perilous situation' and
'commendable refusal to endanger innocent lives.' Asuka snorted. 'As if
those pilots and commandos hadn't known what they were getting into when
they signed up.'

      Ayanami ignored Asuka's baleful look and took the seat between her
and Ikari, before responding to Han's question about Eva-00's readiness.

      "Commander Mardukas believes it would be worthwhile to upgrade
Eva-00 to combat standards, given it is already in the process of being
repaired.  Though given the additional mass of its skeleton, he was not
optimistic about its performance." The decision to use readily available
and cheaper, though heavier, materials in the prototype seemed to have
bitten them once again.

      "Better some Eva than no Eva, I guess," Misato sighed. "But if
nothing else we'll be at nearly full strength once it's ready."

      "Why is it taking so long to fix?  -01 and -06 were both a lot
faster than that,"  Nami asked, coloring slightly once she realized how
the question could be taken.

      "Part of it is that Eva-00 was never designed for battle."
Ritsuko answered with a small smile to put her questioner at ease,
before she shot Misato the look of a craftswoman watching another misuse
-her- tools.  "So it isn't designed with any 'plug and play' abilities
the way the others are.  Eva-01 does have them because it was the
testbed for most of the essential systems of the production models."
Ritsuko continued, anticipating her follow up question. 'In more ways
than one.'  "Also, steel is an excellent heat conductor, unlike the
production grade armor.  Much of the musculature was damaged as a
result, and that takes time to repair."

      The new pilots nodded understanding. Asuka saw Shinji shiver
slightly at what being an 'excellent heat conductor' had nearly meant
for the girl between them.

      "But, that's enough Nerv for a while." Misato announced. "We'll
all be sick to death of it soon anyway," At the unspoken question in
her listener's expressions, she smirked in a way that awoke old and fond
memories in both blonde and redhead.

      "What -I- have in mind is a little game called SongStar," she
continued with an evil cackle, producing a microphone from under the
couch. "Its time to get this party started!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes

      Before the screams of 'Mary Sue!' get too loud, I'd like to
state for the record that Tessa's missile trick was taken directly from
life.  David Morris in _Storm on the Horizon_ describes an incident
during the first Gulf War in which a Saudi missile gunner engaged and
destroyed an Iraqi tank by curve balling his missile past several palm
trees and around a street corner. What can I say, truth is stranger than
fiction.

      I'd like to thank Himonky of Evafics.org for proofing this
chapter, I can confidently say it wouldn't be nearly as good without his
help.

      I'll also say it will be hot day in Antarctica before any warship
in one of my stories is named 'Over the Rainbow,' never mind a fleet
flagship.  To cover this grave breach of sanity on Gainax's part, I
borrowed from one of my favorite sci-fi series.  All of the ships listed
by name in this chapter, excepting Othello, are ones Honor Harrington
served on at one time or another.

      Finally, my other comment is that the theme for Asuka's battle
should really be an instrumental version of "Ride the Lightning" from
the same album, but since that version doesn't seem to exist you get
what's listed below.

        Until next time.

Soundtrack
0000- Pat Benatar "Invincible" _Greatest Hits_
0593- Glen Larson & Stu Phillips "Battlestar Galactica theme" _100
Greatest TV Themes_
0947- Metallica "The Call of Ktulu" _Ride the Lightning_
1276- Sammy Hagar "I Can't Drive 55" _Unboxed_
 End- Joe Satriani "Big Bad Moon" _Live in San Francisco_

==========

From: Tabasco <83drew@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.creative
Subject: [Eva/FMP][FanFic] But Loyal to Their Own: Chapter 6
X-Original-Date: Mon, 25 Aug 2008 20:36:32 -0700 (PDT)

      //Pat Benatar 'Invincible' _Greatest Hits_//

      Furry Pigeon Productions presents:

      But Loyal To Their Own:  An Evangelion Elseworlds
      By Andrew Lewis

      Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
      Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
      Han Fei and Samuel Roberts copyright the author
      All characters as always used without permission

Chapter 6:  Learn and Live

The wingman is absolutely indispensable...The wingman knows what his
responsibilities are, and knows what mine are. Wars are not won by
individuals. They're won by teams.
-- Lt. Col. Francis S. "Gabby" Gabreski, USAF, 28 victories in WWII and
6.5 in Korea.

Nerv HQ
September 14, 2015
8:00AM Local Time

      Misato stood in the foyer of Nerv's apartment complex, savoring
the coolness the underground structure retained in spite of the
surface's summer heat.

      The group training sessions seemed to have facilitated what she
began Saturday, giving the kids a chance to bond.  Even Rei had
participated in the 'shop talk' parts, and observed the rest with at
least mild interest.

      Unfortunately, the Major's cynical streak insisted on reminded her,
dealing with the devil you knew about generally meant one you didn't
was sneaking up on you.

      'Probably half of a small unit leader's job is personality
management,' Misato reflected as the first of the pilots arrived from
upstairs. That was a lesson she'd had hammered into her by superiors
who understood the point, and perhaps even more so by the somewhat 
smaller number who didn't.  Right now, the ringmaster of this circus
suspected balancing the personalities in this crew would test the 
Buddha.

      "Morning, Asuka."

      Case in point.  Asuka was much as Misato remembered: brilliant,
opinionated, aggressive, and proud.  All excellent qualities, but her
'it's not bragging if you're really that good' attitude had already
rubbed some of the other pilots the wrong way.  Additionally, Misato
would have had to be blind to miss the auburn haired pilot's jealousy
not only of Shinji's accomplishments, but also Rei's.  No doubt the
other pilots had taken notice of that jealousy as well.

      "Morning, Major,"  Asuka greeted sleepily, dressed in the white
and blue ensemble of her school uniform.  She looked all set for her
first day of classes, and -that- particular line item on the agenda
had almost started a one girl riot.

      To be fair, the idea of a girl with a biology degree retaking
middle school sounded a little nuts.  Sadly for one thoroughly
overqualified Child, the school was the best place they had for stress 
relief.  It seemed to have helped Shinji, anyway.  The Ops director had 
no intention of telling them so, but 'don't flunk' was all she really 
expected scholastically.  More than that was pure fantasy, given the 
slapdash language instruction the newer non-Japanese pilots had gotten.

      "Better get some coffee, you've got quite a day ahead,"  Misato
smiled sympathetically at her once and current protege.  Asuka had
always had a 'love to hate' relationship with mornings, even as one of 
her students in Munich.

      Asuka's face scrunched in disgust.  "Blech.  Not on your life."
She folded her arms and started tapping her foot. "What are they doing,
necking?  We've got places to be!"

      Misato frowned in response to the catty remark.  Not so much at
the thought of 'extracurricular activities' which, unless the other 
pilots were quiet as the grave, would've been noticed, but at the 
reminder of the less obvious devil she'd been contemplating.

      The quiet scrape of tennis shoes on the concrete steps a moment
later signaled the approach of the next arrivals.  Superficially, the
two could be a contrast study.  Han was perhaps Misato's height, stocky
and solidly built.  Even tempered, polite, tactful, and possessed of a 
dry and sarcastic wit, he reminded her Misato too much of Ritsuko for 
her peace of mind.  Nami, on the other hand, was a fifty kilo fireball 
in a forty kilo frame. 'Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!' defined 
her general approach, followed closely by 'leap before you look.'

      'Heh, I can relate,' Misato chuckled to herself as they arrived.

      Which was why she understood what had utterly baffled their
trainer, how the two had managed to stay together past the first
week.  It was simple, they needed each other, and that added yet 
another complication to a situation already as convoluted as a noodle 
platter.  The one thing she absolutely could -not- afford was to allow 
any internal divisions between the pilots to cement.

      No matter how cute they were, she simply couldn't keep the
couple together once the rotation was set up.

      Which left the Jokers in this deck of cards.  Understandably,
neither Roberts nor Testarossa had managed to come Saturday, so she 
hadn't had a chance to observe them under natural conditions.  
Fortunately, all reports stated emphatically they were unlikely to 
progress beyond a fairly close, though often exasperated, friendship.  
Which should vastly simplify Misato's life, as it was she was seriously 
considering detailing Sgt. Jongkyu from his usual job of securing the 
apartment complex for help keeping tabs on her suddenly expanded tribe.

      "Well, hell," Misato sighed softly. "If it was easy anyone could
do it."

----------

      It said something about how far she'd come in improving her
coordination, Tessa reflected ruefully, that Sam no longer felt the 
need to keep his left arm free and hover behind her every time she used 
a staircase.  If her frighteningly inept first attempts at controlling
an Eva simulation hadn't clued him in to her lack of motor skills, the
first time he'd had to make a grab for her after a near tumble down a
flight of stairs had -certainly- driven the point home.

      'I don't care if my braid -was- the only handhold he could get,
it hurt!' she fumed, unconsciously running a hand down its ash blonde
length.  An impish grin threatened to break through her annoyance
as Tessa recalled his reaction to her fear and embarassment fueled
tirade immediately afterwards.  Sam's outraged retort that next time 
he'd - let- her go down the stairs 'ass over teakettle' had been 
followed by the appearance of a gym mat at the bottom of those stairs 
the next morning.

      The low hum of the Nerv van's electric motor filled the interior
with white noise, inducing an occasional yawn from its passengers.  
Nami was paying her seatmate, Asuka, no attention whatsoever.  She was 
much more interested in getting the best view of the city that would be 
their new home.

      From her seat behind and between the two, Tessa could see that
while the German girl returned the favor of benign neglect for now, an
increasingly nettled expression suggested she would shortly be
overwhelmed by the need to refocus attention on her.

      "There's no way we can get to the geofront in time to repel an
attack if school's this far away,"  Asuka complained to Misato.  Tessa
settled the bet she'd made with herself with an inner smirk.

      Misato replied without turning to face her questioner. "We'll
keep half of you on base at a time and switch out periodically, but 
we're still working out a schedule that'll be fair for everyone.  For 
the time being you'll stay at school during the day and come in on 
weekday evenings."  Only then did she turned to sweep her gaze over the 
passenger cabin.  "Understood?"

      The pilots nodded, however grudgingly.  Tessa turned away from
the scene. Shinji, Rei, and their guards had already arrived at the
school, there being no reason to drive them to the geofront, pick up 
the new arrivals, and drive all the way back.  Han had sat beside her 
and continued their discussion from yesterday on tips for integrating 
into the Japanese school system.  As the only one of the group with 
direct experience she'd been, God help them all, the expert, the 
negativity of her experiences notwithstanding.  Sam, for his part, had 
sprawled on the last row of seats and lapsed into uncharacteristicly 
gloomy silence.  Tessa felt a stab of pity for her friend.  She'd 
gotten used to changing schools and losing friends long ago, as a 
result of her father's Navy career. Sam, on the other hand, had kept 
the same companions from early elementary school, and leaving them 
behind had hurt him deeply.

      And of course, the dumb jerk wouldn't say anything except 'I'm 
fine.' and laugh it off, or change the subject with all the grace of an
intoxicated water buffalo.  Something was going to have to be done if 
this kept up...

      The van braked to a stop, terminating her considerations.  Their
destination, North Tokyo-3 Municipal Junior High, was a nondescript
two story structure.  Built in several wings connected by open air
walkways, several well tended trees peeked over the retaining wall, 
matched by manicured patches of grass amid the sidewalks and bike 
racks.

      She fell in with the rest of the new arrivals behind Misato as
the Major led the way onto the school grounds.  Upon arriving at the
Principal's office, the secretary duly signed them in, issued their
school laptops, and delivered a quick and obviously well-worn welcome 
speech before ushering the group right back out.

      And all in under ten minutes, that's what Tessa called -
efficiency.-

      "Ok then," Misato addressed them once they'd assembled outside
the office.  "Your printouts have the details, but in short you're in
class 2-A with Shinji, Rei, Sousuke and Mana, so there'll be some 
familiar faces.  Just follow their lead."

      "All of us?"  Sam asked after catching her attention.

      "Of course, surely you didn't think we'd throw you in at the deep
end?"

      "Well..."

      "We're not -that- cruel, now go on, have fun!"  Misato departed 
with a cheerful wave.

      Asuka directed a venomous glare at their CO's retreating back.
Only after Misato had rounded a corner did she turn to the others,
Snapping "Let's get this over with."

----------

      Kaname Chidori sighed, twisting one strand of her shoulder
Length hair through her fingers.  The classroom buzzed with its usual 
morning chat sessions.  Aida and Suzuhara were both over by Ikari's 
desk, Toji illustrating a tale with expansive arm gestures while the 
other boys chuckled.  Meanwhile, the class president was splitting her 
attention between listening to the gossip Kongo and Izuma were sharing 
and scanning the classroom for troublemakers.  Her eyes lingered on 
Kaname's before moving on.

      Kaname frowned to herself.  She wasn't deaf to the reputation 
she'd acquired over the year since her arrival.  And, in her more
introspective moments, she admitted there was a lot of truth to the tag 
'prettiest girl you'd never date.'

      Though born in Japan, she'd spent most of her life in the 
reclaimed New York City, where her father worked in the UN branch 
office.  The upside of this was she spoke English like a native.  The 
downside was she had the -mindset- of a native.  With a vocabulary to 
match.  Perhaps inevitably, she'd had considerable trouble from her new 
classmates due to her rusty manners.  Not to mention her pronounced 
tendency to speak her mind with minimal delicacy.

      "To hell with them," Kaname muttered.  On days like this she was
almost glad to live alone, it meant no one was around to ruin a
really good sulk.  A swell in the chatter around her pulled her 
attention back into the real world.

      "New students?" the...high spirited girl asked the short haired
brunette, Chikuma, next to her.

      "Yeah, five of them, transferring in all at once."

      "Hmmm." Kaname ran a finger across her desk in thought.  Given 
the last 'transfer student' they'd gotten...

----------

      Five agitated teenagers waited outside a classroom door.  While 
the amounts varied, the feelings present did not, running the gamut 
from the 'butterfly effect' from meeting new people, to frustration at 
orders to remain inconspicuous in a class that had more than met its 
mysterious transfer student quota, to the hopeful curiosity of making a 
fresh start.

      Or venting frustration at the whole process.

      "Why are we even here?" Asuka muttered. "Some of us at least are
trained professionals with better uses for our time.  There are three
Evas to be tested, and a dozen weapons and add on modules to check out 
on. Hell, we still don't even know where we live yet!"

      Nami traded a glance with her countryman/boyfriend/partner, not
necessarily in that order, the gist of the message being: You deal
with her, I'm no good at pouring oil on the waters.

      "They probably want us out of their hair so everything will be 
ready when we go in this afternoon,"  Han suggested to the fuming 
redhead.

      An indistinct grumble was her sole reply, but the prospect of 
future Nerv-related activities seemed to have defused the tempestuous
pilot.

      "Nice job," Nami whispered to him.

      Han faced straight ahead, but an eye swiveled to catch hers. 
"I've had lots of practice lately," he commented in a suspiciously 
neutral tone.

      He got some odd looks from the others at his sudden yelp, but his
girlfriend's look of outraged chagrin was well worth it.

      The teacher's voice through the door came as a relief. "Before we
begin today's lesson, we should welcome several new arrivals, who will
be joining us for the remainder of the year."  As he was about to call
them in an exclamation echoed across the room.

      "They're PILOTS?!"

      Tessa closed her eyes in psychic pain.  Meanwhile, Sam turned an
intriguing shade of puce trying not to exercise the...extensive...
vocabulary they'd been exposed to by Sgt. Major Mao.

      "I -thought- things were going too smoothly," she muttered.
"SNAFU?" she queried Sam once he'd returned from his happy place, using 
the ancient shorthand for 'Situation Normal: All Fucked Up.'

      "SNAFU," he agreed with a long suffering sigh.

      In contrast, Asuka's mood had improved markedly.  True, she was
still stuck in daycare, but at least she could talk about her -real-
job now.  Not ideal, but a nice consolation prize.  When the teacher
finally restored order and signaled them to enter before further mishap 
could occur, her triumphant smile led the way.


Nerv HQ
Same Time

      Deep below and kilometers away, an angry tapping echoed through 
the steel lined corridors.  Striding ahead on a three part mission,
Misato Katsuragi loosely held a manila folder of design briefs, her
ostensible excuse for dropping in on R&D.

      Part one had been accomplished a few minutes ago.  Ritsuko had 
been non-committal about the data, but agreed to look into it further.
Part two was a rousing success.  The imported, hazelnut flavored coffee
she'd shamelessly helped herself to worked its magic far more swiftly 
and gracefully than the freeze-dried pretender Ops brewed.  Leaving 
Part Three, whose objective was currently approaching the turn towards 
the vending machines down two levels from the bridge.

      The target's destination was indeed the vending machines.  The 
Major slowed and ghosted along behind.

----------

      Ryoji Kaji was rummaging in his pocket for change when a  
Familiar voice harshly inquired "And just what the hell are -you- doing 
here?"

      'Delivering an artifact of incalculable value and power to a man 
of dubious ethics,' the carefully buried whimsical streak of Ryoji's
personality suggested.  "Just making a quick pit stop, Katsuragi.
Nice to see you too, by the way," was his saner reply.

      Misato was unmoved by his flippancy.  "Try again."

      "Well, I -was- here to deliver Asuka and Eva-02," he replied 
lightly.

      Misato's cold, hostile expression thawed immediately. "Ah 
excellent, you're on your way to the airport.  So sorry to keep you 
then, have a lovely flight, and..."

      "But..." the syllable froze her rapid-fire goodbye in its tracks.
"I've gotten tired of Germany, so I'm planning to transfer here for a
while."

      A lesser man would've laughed at the way the forced politeness 
was -sucked- from Misato's demeanor.  Fortunately for his health, he
restricted himself to a wry smirk.  In truth, he'd been fairly happy in 
Nerv- Germany.  But, duty called, and as usual it did so 'collect'.

      It could be said that Project E was fairly low profile, in the 
same way a stealth bomber was fairly hard to spot.  Until recently Nerv
itself had been 'famous', inaccurate as the term was, more for 
developing the 7th generation bioelectronic architecture than for their 
forays into exotic materials and robotics.  That changed with dramatic 
debut of their real project. The Evangelion's unveiling had thrown the 
governments of the major powers into near panic.  Marching orders had 
gone out, and every intelligence agency worthy of the name focused its 
attention on the previously little known organization.

      And overnight Ryoji Kaji had gone from relatively minor agent in
the Japanese Ministry of the Interior to one who's dispatches were read
by the Prime Minister himself.  With the wartime shift in Nerv's
center of gravity to Tokyo-3, it only made sense to move Ryoji as well.
Transferring his recently acquired guardianship of the Second Child was 
as plausible a reason to do so as any to -get- here.  However, changing 
assignments on a -permanent- basis without attracting excess suspicion 
would require something more.

      "So what do you say to a few drinks now that the old crew's back
together?  Ritsuko's game, can we expect you too?"

      Misato's lips thinned to a hard, white line.  Though nearly a 
head shorter than he, she still managed a respectable looming presence 
as she replied "Kaji, you can take your offer, wad it up into a little 
ball, and shove it up your ass.  Goodbye."

      Ryoji tracked her, ample, retreating figure until she passed out 
of sight, and sighed while running a hand through his disordered hair.

      "Well, you have to start somewhere."


North Municipal Junior High
12:30PM Local Time

      Kaname tapped impatiently at the side of her laptop as she 
Watched the clock creep through the final, agonizingly slow minutes 
Between them and lunch's brief freedom.  The math teacher was finishing
up his lecture on binomials, and students were beginning to put their
computers into standby for the break.

      From her seat in the back third of the classroom, she could see
some of the new arrivals scattered through the room.

      The first foreigner to introduce himself, Roberts, looked a 
little like a deer in the headlights, Kaname noted without surprise.  
She'd felt the same when she moved to a new country with only a little 
of the language.  From his and the two Chinese pilot's introductions, 
she'd guess they could conduct simple conversations, but that was about 
it.  Concentrated classwork was probably overwhelming, but at least 
they had native and/or fluent speakers to help them.

      The other American, Testarossa, had settled right in.  The pilot
was closer to cute than sexy in Kaname's opinion, but her silvery
hair and gray eyes made her as exotic as the other western girl.  One
of the two new pilots fluent in Japanese, she had made a decent first
impression, answering the questions she could with friendliness and
apparent honesty and politely refusing those she couldn't.

      Soryu-Langley had seemed as serenely unconcerned by the lustful
stares she'd gotten from the boys as she had the jealous glares from a
solid majority of the girls on entering the room.  Matching auburn hair
and blue eyes to a shapely figure, she could have walked off the pages
of a boy's manga.  Flamboyant and outgoing, the foreign beauty had 
shown confidence and panache fielding questions directed at her, 
including the inevitable 'are you single?'

      'The odd couple,' as Kaname found herself calling the Chinese 
pilots, had seemed good natured and, as far as she could tell, honestly
committed to helping defend them.  Which was commendable given the bad 
blood between their two countries.  Kaname liked to keep an eye on the 
news, and recent incidents between the People's Liberation Army Navy 
and the Maritime Self-Defense Force had been very well publicized.  No 
shots had been fired, but many analysts were convinced it was only a 
matter of time...

      Shaking off the gloomy thought, she returned to the here and now.
'I predict several rashes of love letters in the near future,' Kaname
decided with mixed resignation and amusement.  Ayanami's arrival had
triggered one, and so had her's.  It was practically a tradition by
now.

      Finally, the bell rang for lunch, prompting Horaki to dismiss 
them.  As Kaname rummaged in her bag, she heard Fei muttering behind 
her in an odd flavor of English.

      "Would you stop it?" she asked testily in the same language.

      "What?" Han looked up in confusion. "Oh, sorry, have I been 
talking out loud?"

      "Yes,"  Kaname snapped, facing forwards again.

      "I believe I understand why you are here and not over there." 
Kaname jumped, twisting back around in time to see Nami jerk her head 
in the direction of the crowd surrounding Asuka and the smaller knot 
around the Americans.  The pilot sat in the desk across from them and 
handed Han his lunch.  "Now then," she continued, in the near-comically 
formal Japanese they'd been taught, "are you an outcast by choice or do 
you merely have a bad personality?"

      Kaname's cheeks flushed in rage.  "Excuse me!  Who the -hell- are
you to say that!" She snorted derisively. "It's not like you're 
swimming in admirers either!"

      "Our countries have nearly come to war twice since we were born.  
I would be astonished if there were not a connection there." Han
shrugged, unconcerned. "Conversing with the Big Bad Wolf is not a 
popular pastime."

      "But we were talking about -your- problems," Nami interjected,
smoothly taking the lead again.  This conversation was beginning to
remind Kaname of watching a tennis match, crick in the neck included.

      "And what exactly makes them any of your business?" Kaname 
snarled, turning away again.

      "Nothing." Nami started packing up the few items removed from her
box.  "Come on, Shinji mentioned the roof was nice this time of day,"
she spoke to Han as he followed suit.

      Kaname closed her eyes and ground her teeth in frustration, 
mostly at herself.  This could have been a replay of any of a dozen
incidents since she'd arrived at this damned school.  And every time, 
she'd driven away anyone who'd shown the slightest interest in her.

      At first, she had told herself that even if her father had washed
his hands of her, she still had her sister, Ayame.  What could Kaname
need from others, people who would only offer the same lack of
understanding cloaked in false sympathy she'd grown so sick of?  Later, 
as the initial searing loss had faded, and the scars began to form, the 
still wounded girl decided she didn't need anyone else anyway.  She 
could stand on her own feet and make her own path, rules be damned!

      And now what was it?

      'I'm sick of this,' Kaname admitted at last.  'Sick of my only
conversation longer than two sentences happening three times a week 
like clockwork when I call Ayame.  Sick of my only company on a Friday
night being my pet hamster.  And most of all, I'm sick of the only 
people who even remotely care living fifteen thousand kilometers away.' 
She relaxed the fist she'd clenched under her desk and spoke.

      "Wait." Kaname turned to face the departing pilots. "Look, I'm
sorry.  I'm not used to strangers asking, rudely," pride forced her
to add, "about my problems, but that's no excuse to take it out on
you.  Please accept my apologies."

      Han nodded.  "Gladly.  Though we still intend to go upstairs, you
are welcome to join us."

----------

      Shinji leaned back against the railing surrounding the rooftop 
and savored the breeze.  To either side of him Kensuke and Toji did the
same, the former unwrapping his lunch from home and the latter doing 
the same to his own purchased from the cafeteria.

      "This sucks!"  Kensuke lamented to the uncaring heavens.  "Is it
not enough to have beauties like Misato, and Rei, -and- a tomboy
hottie like Mana?  Must he now he get three more?!  Is this justice, I 
ask you?!"

      Shinji, with great difficulty, suppressed the desire to strangle
his friend and wearily replied "I told you, it's not like that.  And
besides, only two of them are 'available' anyway."

      Toji frowned thoughtfully. "Huh.  Well that makes sense, those 
two do go together."

      "Yeah, I guess,"  Shinji sighed the sigh of the unhappily single.

      "Ah, cheer up.  That Chinese girl looks like fun, if you need a
break from your other girls,"  Toji grinned, a gleam of mischief in
his eyes at seeing Shinji's twitch.

      And -another- fantasy strangling, this was becoming a habit... 
"Wait. What?"

      "Those two Americans.  They're together."  Toji answered calmly,
taking a bite from his tray.

      "Um, no..." Shinji replied slowly, staring at his friend in blank
incredulity.

      "No way, they totally are."

      "No, they're not."

      "How do you know?"  Toji paused, and noticed the other boys'
expressions. "Ok, stupid question.  Still."

      "They said so."

      "Both of them?" Kensuke asked hopefully.

      "Yes,"  Shinji answered with a sidelong look.

      "Sweet!"

      "And another unhealthy obsession begins."  Toji narrated with the
voice of experience.

      Kensuke cheerfully ignored the jab, and was about to probe 
further when the stairwell door opened to admit three more students.

      'Now -that's- an interesting look for Kensuke,' Shinji observed,
quirking an eyebrow at the noodle bits decorating his friend's lap.
Mercifully refraining comment on his friend's attempts to separate his
lunch from his wardrobe, Shinji noticed the other girl accompanying
his fellow pilots.

      Nami greeted them with a wave. "Hello, Shinji.  May we join you?"

      "Ok," Shinji replied hesitantly, glancing at his friends.

      "Great, I'm starving.  Chidori wanted to escape too, so we 
granted asylum."

      "Fine by me," Toji agreed, Kensuke refusing comment.

      The new arrivals sat facing the boys, arranged into a sort of
flattened circle as they set about the serious business of Lunch.

      Kaname listened to the group with growing surprise.  Aida's 
reaction to her arrival aside, the boys seemed to take her presence in 
stride, and had picked up where they'd left off.  And that's what made 
it so strange.  Ikari was always so quiet during class, participating 
only if the teacher specifically called on him and all other times 
staring fixedly at his computer or desk.  It was a bit of a shock to 
see him talking naturally.

      'I wonder if Ayanami is the same way?  It would make sense.  They
have a lot bigger things to worry about, so it's probably hard to focus
on something like school.'

      "That's interesting, what kind of things do you like to take
pictures of?" she heard Han ask Kensuke.

      Kaname smiled dangerously.

--/

2014

      Kensuke wandered through a small park towards home, backpack 
slung over his shoulders, battered but serviceable digital camera in 
hand.  So engrossed was he with the contents of its small screen that 
the first time his name was called he continued on, oblivious.

      "Hey, I know you heard me!"

      "Huh?" he turned to find one of the objects of his previous
contemplation standing a few meters behind him wearing a softball
uniform.  A bag containing her equipment was slung over one shoulder, 
freeing her clenched fists to be placed firmly on her hips. "Oh, hi 
Chidori.  Um, did you need something?"

      Her annoyed scowl dissolving into a small smile now that she had
his attention, Kaname sauntered towards him, her big brown eyes locked
on his. "As a matter of fact, Mister Aida, there -is- something you can
do for me," she replied in a throaty voice that had no business coming
from a thirteen year old.

      "Eeeh," Kensuke's throat tightened on his response as she closed
the distance.  His eyes locked onto the slender finger slowly tracing
the rim around her uniform's top button.

      Right up until a set of size six cleats caught him in the solar
plexus.

      Doubled over and whooping for breath, he gave no resistance to
her appropriation of his camera. "Now," Kaname began, as Kensuke's
head craned up towards his attacker.  Her was demeanor completely 
devoid of its previous warmth as she spoke once more. "Let's start 
over.  You're the asshole who likes taking pictures of girls from 
hiding.  And..." she paused to withdraw her softball bat from the bag 
she'd placed at her feet.  "I'm the girl who's going to teach you a 
lesson.  This is for the locker room."  She raised the bat above her 
head and brought it down upon the hapless camera with a mighty swing.  
"This is for the pool..."

--/

      Kensuke unconsciously dragged his camera closer to him.  
"Military stuff, mostly.  I was down in Yokosuka when Fearless 
visited."

      Han nodded. "So is it a hobby, or are you preparing for the
future?"

      Kensuke frowned in thought. "Maybe both," he answered after a
moment.  "I used to think it was too early to worry about that kind of 
thing, but now..."

      The pilots nodded.  Priorities change.

      "And you, Suzuhara?  Besides sports, anyway." Nami quirked a 
smile at the tracksuit-clad boy.

      "Not as much, anymore." Toji frowned at the concrete. "My 
sister's been in the hospital, and with Dad and Granddad working so 
much I'm all she's got."

      "Oh," Nami replied quietly. "What happened?"

      Toji sighed. "The war.  But, if Shinji apologizes about it one 
more time I'm gonna have to smack him," he continued without looking at 
the pilot in question, knowing the guilt ridden expression he'd find.

      "Again," Kensuke added in a stage whisper.

      Kaname's eyebrows climbed, she hadn't heard this one before.
"Well you can't leave it there."

      "Yes, I'm curious too," Han agreed coolly, Nami nodding as well.

      Toji searched the small group for support, finding none in either
of the new pilot's patient expressions or Shinji's 'you brought this
on yourself' shrug.  "Fine.  Well, it was just after Shinji got 
here..."

----------

      Tessa mounted the stairs leading to the roof, an ear cocked for
Signs of pursuit.

      "Talk about too much of a good thing."  The informal Q&A she'd 
just escaped from had been fun for a while.  Certainly the friendliness
she'd been greeted with on arrival here was a big plus compared to her 
last experience with the Japanese school system.  But enough is enough!
Besides, Sam looked like he was enjoying himself and trying to put his
Homesickness behind him, so once Asuka had made her exit trailing a 
newly minted entourage, Tessa had made herself scarce.

      She just hoped he kept his wits about him.  The last thing Sam 
needed was for some harpy to sink her claws in him while he was 
vulnerable.  The predatory smiles on two girls in particular had nearly 
sent chills down the young pilot's spine, and she was -anything- but 
the target.

      Finally, she reached the top of the stairs and nudged the door
open, squinting in the light to find the small cluster of teenagers by
the railing.

      "Ah, finally made it?  But where's Roberts?" Han asked on seeing
her.

      Tessa smiled a greeting as she sat, the others budging aside to 
open a space. "It did take some doing.  Sam is bravely holding the
rearguard," she informed them gravely.

      "Then may his sacrifice never be forgotten," Nami intoned, the
formal phrase at odds with the grin adorning her features.

      Tessa's serious mein broke.  Giggling at the thought of Sam's
'sacrifice' under the circumstances, she agreed "I doubt he'll let us,"
before turning to Kaname.  "I don't think we've met."

      "This is Kaname Chidori," Han began by way of introduction.  "She
wasn't interested in the feeding frenzy downstairs either, so we 
invited her up."

      Tessa bowed slightly from her seated position. "Pleased to meet 
you."

      "Me too." Kaname returned it, and held out a hand. "I spent some
time in the States," she explained at Tessa's raised eyebrow.

      "Ah, I see.  Now, I thought I heard something about a good ice 
cream shop near here?"

      "Oh yeah," Kaname picked up where she'd left off before the
newcomer's arrival. "Ben and Jerry's, of all companies, has a store 
here..."

      The boys shared a look as the conversation moved into less male-
friendly territory.  "Right.  So," Kensuke began. "I was talking to
Gord, the owner of the video arcade we go to," he explained for Han's
benefit "the other day, and he says he's got some new additions coming
in later this week."

      Toji grinned knowingly.  "He say what they were?"

      "Of course not, he was as cagey as usual, but my sources tell me
our long awaited sequel is one of them."

      "Ah ha, that is good news.  So take a look on say...Thursday?
Nothing's due then, and we have a math test Wednesday."

      "Sounds good." Kensuke nodded "Shinji, Han, interested?"

      Shinji frowned. "I might be able to, if my qualifier finishes in
time.  Roberts is scheduled first, then Ayanami.  I'm next after her."

      "Qualifier?  Aren't you already pilots?" Toji asked with a 
confused look. "Er, I mean..."

      "Shinji is, yes.  He and Rei undergoing it for solidarity's 
sake," Han explained, waving off his apology. "For the rest of us, it 
is a final exam before they trust us completely.  I am last, so I will 
not be able to attend."

      "Hm, that's a shame.  Well, good luck," Kensuke encouraged them
both, obviously filing away this bit of trivia.

----------

      "You looked like you were having a good time," Mana commented
in English over the rumble of the tram.

      "When I knew what the hell they were saying, anyway," Sam 
grimaced.  "If they'd told me to take a flanking position and lay down
enfilading fire I'd have been fine, but as it was I was guessing on 
about every tenth word."

      Mana chuckled.  "Bah, you did fine.  Just ask them to slow down 
or ask what the word means.  If you play your cards right, you might 
even get one of them to offer you 'private lessons.'" she wiggled her 
eyebrows suggestively.

      Sam burst out laughing, causing the other passengers to turn and
stare for a moment. "Yeah, and there's a pig on final approach to
Runway 013.  Tell me another one," he said more quietly.

      "We'll see." Mana shrugged and dropped the subject.  Shinji had
been reserved to the point of shyness for most of his time in
Tokyo-3, but he'd managed to accrue a respectable following among his
classmates.  Rei had done so as well, in spite of her even more 
aggressive withdrawal.  Mana had to admit, it was cute watching that 
pair inch each other out of their shells.  But in spite of the process' 
acceleration since Rei's mission to Russia, it was like waiting for 
grass to grow.

      The new additions didn't suffer -that- flaw.  If anything, their
interactions were starting to remind Mana of her old Orca VTOL crew 
more than anything.  Keita and Lee had traded barbs with her as often 
as she'd whipped their asses playing whatever fighting game they'd 
loaded into the squadron's game console.  But never once had they left 
her swinging.  The pilots might not play as rough as she and her 
comrades, but they were no less devoted.

      At least, if they could get the kinks worked out.  Starting with
ensuring no further intra-Nerv romances blossomed in the near future.
Rei and Shinji were in no danger of that, yet, but there were plenty of 
other possible combinations.  Mana and her commander had never 
discussed the situation in those terms, but she knew Misato's opinion, 
and agreed with it.  She'd seen the ugly results of philandering where 
it shouldn't be, and never wanted to again.  Hence her not so subtle 
prompting in Sam's case.  Far better to have someone to come back to or 
confide in outside Nerv.

      The other problem she'd seen was a bit more complicated.  Both 
she and Sousuke had access to the pilot's profiles as a matter of 
course, and it hadn't taken a neurosurgeon to see some patterns if you 
read between the lines a little.  All of the pilots had impressive 
resumes, after all, most of them had been been chosen specifically 
because they were driven, capable people.  And, she suspected, because 
they had few personal ties.  Asuka was a prime example: Completed 
public education by age ten.  A bachelor's degree last year, with 
honors, from Munich Polytechnic.  -Simultaneously- attended the UN 
Officer Candidate School there, and also passed with flying colors, 
though she'd been much too young to accept a commission.  And topping 
it all off, she and Rei had between them essentially written the book 
on pilot training and Eva deployment. The fact that Asuka could achieve 
so much in spite of her dickless wonder of a father and nonentity of a 
stepmother was simply awe inspiring to the teenage petty officer.

      But the flip side of that was that very self-sufficiency made
relying on others incredibly difficult, however necessary it might be.
Major Katsuragi had pushed hard for, and gotten, the cooperative
Simulations the pilots had spent untold hours in after Shinji's nearly 
disastrous battle with the Fourth Angel, Shamshel.  That had helped 
greatly, and the preexisting relationships formed in that training were 
speeding the process of welding them into a whole, but there were 
definitely rough spots.

      Which was why Mana was -really- trying to be patient.  And again,
the she suspected she wasn't alone in that.  The Major was far too
professional to say anything where her subordinates might hear, but
anyone could see Asuka's refusal to engage with her teammates
perfectly well on their own.  Certainly no one had required the pilots
to eat or even socialize together, though most had.  But blatantly
snubbing the invitation was something else again.  Added to the pilot
assembling a coterie of admirers, the situation didn't sit well at all 
with this sailor.

      'At least Rei made up for it, if accidentally.  That was 
priceless.'  Mana cackled to herself, having been keeping watch on 
Asuka, she'd been ideally placed to hear the whole exchange. 'I could 
almost wish someone would -give- Rei that order, just to see Asuka's 
face.'

      The tram slowed to a stop outside the geofront entrance, 
prompting the pilots and Nerv personnel to stand and collect belongings 
as the doors opened.  After trading goodbyes with the pilots, and 
flipping the Section Two man at the gate an ironic salute as the doors 
closed, Mana leaned back in her seat with a groan of relief, sharing a 
look of exhausted understanding with Sousuke.

      This watching over seven targets was for the damned birds.


Nerv HQ
September 16, 2015
4:45 PM Local Time

      Richard Mardukas was a busy man.  The sudden influx of three more
Evas to certify, plus their accessory equipment, was a major job
in itself.  The addition of the rebuild job on Eva-00 was enough to
have them all running ragged.  So it was with very poor humor that he
responded to the diffident call for his attention.

      Tessa fidgeted under his stony glare. "Major Katsuragi's 
compliments, and may she inquire when your department will be ready for 
the test runs?" the pilot asked, taking refuge in the formal phrasing.

      "Was the Major unfamiliar with the concept of a telephone?" his
icily controlled voice carved through the background din.

      "She said you weren't answering it."

      "I don't suppose it occurred to her there was a reason for that,
after the fifth call," he snarled quietly.  Apparently the pilot
overheard, since her eyes widened noticeably as she stared off over his 
left shoulder.

      Reminding himself firmly not to flay the messenger, he controlled
his tone and answered "Tell Major Katsuragi we will be ready as soon as
we can.  And that I'll call her when that is," he added after a moment,
"before I have to leave my phone off the hook to get any work done,"
he muttered.

      As Tessa turned to relay the message, Richard frowned slightly to
himself as he stared after her.  Finally, he shook his head and resumed
barking orders to his teams.

----------

      Sam idled outside the geofront exit waiting for a tram going his
way.  Dressed in his street clothes, he looked much like any other
junior high age boy on his way home.

      He'd ignored the tram car rolling to a stop before him once he'd
realized it was on the wrong line, but the voice calling from down the
platform pulled the pilot back.

      "Hello," Sam greeted the advancing pair. "I remember you, Aida,"
he leveled an annoyed look at Kensuke. "But I am sorry, I have 
forgotten your name." He shrugged apologetically at Toji.

      "Nah, don't sweat it. I'm Toji Suzuhara.  We thought you'd all be
done by now, though."

      Sam rolled his eyes heavenward. "So did we.  There was a 
breakdown on the mag-lev line out to the training grounds, so we are 
all behind.  I was just released."

      "Aw man.  We were going to hit the arcade before they closed,"
Toji complained.  "Kensuke here's been whining about trying out the
new game they got in for a week."

      "What game?"

      "The new Dead or Alive.  It's supposed to be a lot more 
'realistic' than the last one,"  Kensuke grinned conspiratorially.

      Not being a fighting game fan, Sam missed the significance
completely.  "Shinji is not scheduled to leave for another two hours, 
so you would do as well go on ahead."

      Kensuke sighed in frustration, before giving Sam a speculative 
look.  "We could use another player..."

      "Of course.  I do not play many of those games, though," he 
warned them.

      "No problem.  They've got all kinds: racing, pachinko, even a set 
of pods for simulators," Kensuke enthused.

      "Sounds like fun." Sam pulled his phone from his pocket and 
started punching numbers.  "Command prefers to know where we are, 
so..." he paused as the call connected, and traded a few sentences with 
the other end.  After a moment he agreed and thumbed the disconnect 
button.  "Green light.  I must be at the Major's by the time the others 
finish."

      "Awesome.  Onwards!"  Kensuke led off at a march to the stop for
downtown.

      "Is he always this way?" Sam murmured to Toji.

      "Only when there's a new weapon to photograph, or game to play,
or person to interrogate," the teenaged athlete failed to reassure
him.  "He's a good guy, though."  As they caught up to Kensuke, he 
stepped back from the tram door he'd been holding open and joined them.

      "So..." Kensuke began, tripping off Sam's mental alarms.  Busy
rehearsing polite ways to say that anything his questioner wanted to
know was probably classified higher than God, he was caught short by
"where are you from, exactly?"

      "So sorry, I can't...oh.  Oklahoma.  Oklahoma City, in fact."

      Kensuke grinned at the bobble. "Shinji already warned us." He
shook his head in resigned amusement. "As if anyone with decent
optics and a copy of Jane's can't guess what armament and sensors the 
Evas carry."

      "I thought each Eva was brought in late at night with escorts."

      "That's what light amplifiers and telescopes are for," the 
amateur spy pointed out.  Leaving Sam no time to contemplate the
ramifications of that admission, Kensuke continued "So what's it like 
there?"

      "Flat.  Very, very flat." Sam responded after a moment, only a 
little bit flippantly. "It is somewhat disconcerting here, as though I
am...trapped, I suppose?" he asked uncertainly, the few hundred word 
vocabulary they'd had time to learn not quite up to the challenge. "At 
home I can see all the way to the horizon, here I can see only a few 
kilometers."

      "Huh." Toji considered. "I'd guess it would get boring after a
while, though."

      Sam snorted agreement.  "You have much better scenery here."

      The tram arrived, and the trio found themselves on a moderately
crowded shopping street, lined with glass fronted stores and a cafe
of some sort on the corner, the sidewalks thronging with people window
shopping or simply enjoying the last good weather before the rains came
towards the end of summer.

      "More people than I expected," Sam observed.

      Kensuke shrugged. "This is pretty slow, really. Back before the 
war there would've been twice this many. Same with school." His
Expression lightened. "Anyway, we're close.  Come on."

      He led them along the street to the next intersection and hung a
left for a few more meters before coming to a stop.  Before them was a
glass fronted space wedged between an ice cream shop and a hardware
store, big red Roman letters and kanji announcing the name to be
Gamer's Edge.

      They stepped through the glass doors separating the cool
interior from the outdoors into a clean but crowded room, ranked
arcade cabinets and intently concentrating players and spectators 
filling the space to claustrophobic levels.  Pressing slowly but 
determinately through the crowd, they at last reached the new 
additions.

      "Damn it, I knew we should've gotten here earlier!" Kensuke
complained over the crowd noise.  The game in question was packed
five deep with watchers and potential players.  Two scantily clad 
fighters under the control of a pair of twenty-something men were 
beating each other senseless on the screen facing them.

      "No go on that one, it'll be an hour at least before we get to 
it." Toji opined.  "How about the racer?"

      "Ahhh, perhaps."  Sam raised up on his toes to see over the 
crowd. "If that one is an hour then this one is twenty minutes."

      "The sims it is then," Kensuke pronounced. "Sam, do you want to 
sit this out? You're probably sick of these things."

      "So long as no one mentions an AT field, I am golden." Sam
responded with a lopsided grin. "Let's do this."

      Sam quickly settled himself in the padded seat of the pod.  
Looking to his right and left to see Toji and Kensuke sliding their 
seats forward on their rails to place them within the shells, he 
followed suit.  He found himself surrounded on three sides by a series 
of displays to give a 270 degree view of the world.

      "No wonder Kensuke thought I'd want out, this is downright 
eerie."

      Shaking off the feeling, he punched a likely looking button 
labeled both in katakana, which he understood after a fashion, and 
kanji, which he certainly didn't.  Using them to scroll through the 
game selections, he soon came upon one that stopped him cold.

      Oh, boy.  If y'all let me do this...  "What do you think of this
one?" he asked over the intercom allowing communication between
pods.

      "Mmm...ok.  I'm game," Toji's voice responded scratchily, briefly
breaking the sensation of being in a pre-synchronization entry plug.

      "Fine with me," Kensuke agreed.

      Mentally shrugging, Sam scrolled through the available aircraft.

      'Huh.  No Army models at all.  Well, I can slum a bit.' The 
fighters available to most navies of the mid-20th century tended to 
have poorer performance than their land-based brethren, in spite of 
identical powerplants.  The sheer daily abuse navy aircraft took from 
slamming into aircraft carrier decks, in what were for all practical 
purposes controlled crashes, required much stronger and heavier 
structures.

      One of the rare exceptions to the rule was the Japanese A6M 
'Zero,' which Toji had picked.  Kensuke must have been feeling 
adventurous, since he'd selected the naval version of the 'Spitfire' of 
Battle of Britain fame.

      Locking in his own selection, Sam settled himself in his seat one
more time, took the controls in hand, and raised his eyes from the
display simulating his instrument panel to the world outside.  The F4U
'Corsair' had dominated the Pacific in its day.

      It was time to demonstrate why.

----------

      That night found Shinji propped against the couch at home.  With
soda in hand, he watched the party swirl around him.

      Misato had, perhaps foolishly, publicly stated that they were
welcome to invite friends over for the after qualifications party
she'd laid on.  Probably she'd expected Toji and Kensuke to show, but 
it was mostly an excuse for Sousuke and Mana to attend without 
suspicion.

      Instead, in addition to those expected, Asuka had brought the 
class president, Hikari Horaki, and Nami and Tessa seemed to have 
jointly brought Kaname Chidori.  He had no idea who'd invited the 
ponytailed guy over there with Doctor Akagi.  Whoever the thirtyish man 
was, he was doing a lovely job at ruining Misato's mood.

      "So anyway, I'm turning to chase after Sam, and I hear this voice
-screaming- 'Get him off me! Get him off me!'" Toji's laughter carried
above the background noise. "I thought he'd taken a six year old in 
there with him or somethin' it was so high pitched."

      "Brave Captain Kensuke got some of his own back?" Kaname needled
from the other end of the straggling group of teenagers on the floor of
Misato's living room.

      "Ha ha," Kensuke sourly replied over his shoulder. "My traitorous
-former- friend here forgot to mention he didn't do any better."

      "Eh, not my kind of game," Toji shrugged without concern. "I made 
up for it on the motorcycles..."

      Shinji tuned out the rest, he'd heard the story already.  
Meanwhile, Asuka and Horaki were seated with heads together, occasional 
giggles escaping the huddle.  The German's rationale for the class
president's invitation was to 'guarantee she had someone interesting to 
talk to,' which he found himself vaguely annoyed by.  Shinji noticed 
the pilot girl had discarded the monogrammed baseball cap they'd all 
gotten this afternoon when she'd changed clothes.

      He couldn't blame her, it was a little silly.  If they'd had an
actual uniform besides the plugsuits, it would've made a nice
accessory, but he couldn't imagine another time he would wear the 
thing.  But Misato had looked so proud when she had given it to him at 
the impromptu and highly unoffical ceremony after the tests that he 
hadn't had the heart to take his off.  At least they had dropped the 
idea of having each hat match an Eva's color scheme.  Blue and white 
like Eva-00 or -03 wouldn't be bad, or green and gold like Eva-06.  But 
red and yellow would make your eyes water, and purple and green didn't 
even bear thinking on.  Instead, they'd gotten a practical, solid black 
hat with their name across the back above the adjustment strap in 
silver, and in front a Nerv leaf with, in his case, 'Evangelion Unit-
01' written in an arc above and 'Test' written below, also in silver.

      "Hey, something wrong?"

      Jerking around in surprise, Shinji saw the American girl, Tessa, 
had perched on the arm of the couch and was looking down at him 
curiously.

      <"Is this a party or not?!" Kensuke demanded from behind her,
addressing the frustrated blond pilot in charge of assembling the
barbeque grill. "Let's get moving!">

      "Oh, ahh...no," he replied after a moment, snapping his gaze back
to his bare feet.

      <"Pal, if you want this grill assembled sometime tonight, then
get over here and help," Sam snapped at the would be foreman. "My God,
what language were these instructions translated from, Kurdish!?" he
groaned and repeated for their edification the phrase 'Please
inserting to be orifice, Tab B and rotate vigorously.'>

      "That was a classic case of a thousand yard stare if I ever saw
one," she pressed as she slid off and sat on the floor, her head
pillowed on her former seat.

      <Asuka marched with over with Hikari in tow, snatching a set of
pages from Kensuke's hand after a quick look and aborting his attempt
to decipher the Japanese copy of the plans.  "You idiots!  They mean 
the tab on the heater coil, not the rheostat!">

      "It's nothing," Shinji insisted quickly. "I'm just not used to
lots of people around like this," he added, taking in the semi-chaos
that had invaded his home.

      <If you'd actually looked at the part, you'd know there -ain't- a
'tab B' on the heater!"  Sam snarled back, his patience worn through
from putzing with a five minute job for over half an hour.>

      <"He's right, there isn't." Kensuke agreed, holding the part in
question.>

      <"Wait a minute..." the frustrated redhead trailed off.>

      "I can understand that," Tessa agreed after surveying the less
than touching scene. "My mom and brother were always the outgoing
ones; I was like Dad, as happy with a book and a mug of tea as I was at 
a party."

      Something in the way she'd delivered that statement, a tiny hitch
in her voice perhaps, caught his attention.  "Was?" he asked with a
sinking feeling in his gut.

      Tessa looked away. "Was."

      Shinji had no earthly idea what to say.  Noticing him staring at
her, Tessa flushed in embarrassment and looked at the floor.  "Sorry.
I didn't mean to start a pity party."

      "No, its just..." he stopped and tried again. "You're alone?"

      <"Aida you...words -fail- me!" Asuka shrieked in outrage. "These
aren't even the plans for this model!  Where the hell did you buy
this, a flea market?  Are you sure you're not the Fourth Stooge?!>

      "Maybe.  They never found my brother, Leonard," the girl chuckled
sadly. "Silly, I know.  Its been two years, but what else can I do
except hope?"

      <"It's what came in the box!" Kensuke protested indignantly. He 
took the plans back and matched the labels up.  "See, GE Model 183-R!">

      <Asuka leaned forward, peering into the boy's eyes for a long
moment.  "Which was manufactured in 2012," she stated in a flat, 
dangerous voice.>

      <"I guess.  The guy at the used appliances store said it was 
about three years old, so sure," Kensuke agreed, tilting his head
quizzically.  "Why?">

      <Asuka inhaled a slow, measured breath. "Because the instructions
were printed in NINETEEN-NINETY-EIGHT!  You think there might've been
a -few- design changes between then and now?!" the irate German rattled
the yellowed plans in the speechless boy's face.>

      Seizing the opportunity to both rapidly change the subject, and
hopefully avoid imminent bloodshed, Tessa stood and began advancing on
the group of snarling teens interrupting their quiet conversation.
"That can't end well.  What do you say we shut this down -fast.-"
she called over her shoulder to Shinji, quickening her steps as
Hikari deftly sidled out of the line of fire.

      "By taking who's side?" Shinji asked uncertainly as he followed,
noting Robert's slow rise as he dropped his screwdriver and leveled an
arctic stare at the hapless Kensuke.

      "That's an excellent question..."


Nerv HQ
September 19, 2015
10:00AM Local Time

      Misato's foot tapped to an unconscious beat as she waited in
Cage 4 for her subordinates to arrive.  Behind the professional mask
Her expression had become, the gears turned in the officer's mind
Concerning the latest developments.  Finally, she nodded to herself and 
relaxed slightly.

      One by one they trickled in, taking gratifyingly little time.  
All were in weekend wear of different kinds, excepting Rei's ever 
present uniform, which was entirely appropriate.  Her instructions 
regarding a recall order had been simple, "Get here as fast as you can.  
If you're in the shower, grab a towel and come here in it."

      "As you've guessed, we've detected the latest Angel just inside
lunar orbit," Misato began, silently thanking the gods this had been 
the case.

      The assumption that the orbital radar and AT field detector 
arrays would be sufficient warning had been just one more casualty of 
the sixth, as yet codename-less, Angel's attack.  She had already seen 
draft proposals for stepped up terrestrial monitoring, and the Major
suspected they were only the tip of the iceberg.

      "Unfortunately, this one seems to be smarter than its 
predecessors.  As of now, the Magi are giving a seventy percent chance 
of a touchdown outside Japan, most probably Central or South America 
based on its orbital path."  Misato frowned in annoyance. "Given we 
need to cover both HQ and the potential landing zone, we have no choice 
but to split our force.  Since we still lack team assignments, this 
time, and -only- this time," she emphasized, sternly meeting each of 
the pilot's eyes in turn "you're going to help me choose." Major 
Katsuragi nodded at their surprised expressions.  "You heard correctly.  
Given the expedition will be operating without the level of support we 
enjoy here in Japan, our job will be that much more difficult.  I 
completely understand if anyone would rather remain behind under the 
circumstances."

      Misato waited a moment for further comment, and announced in a 
clear, carrying voice, "Anyone willing to accompany the expeditionary 
force, please raise your hand."

      As though the scene had been choreographed, a cluster of hands
instantly rose in unison.  The Ops director nodded, apparently
satisfied.  Then, slowly, a predatory grin manifested itself like a 
shark rising from the deep.

      "Excellent.  Congratulations, Pilot Ikari, Pilot Fei.  In honor 
of your being the -only- two people in the room with enough common 
sense not to volunteer for extra danger, you are hereby chosen.  Grab a
toothbrush and meet me here in twenty minutes."


Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean
4:00PM Tokyo Standard Time

      Han's eye crept above the edge of Patrick O'Brian's 'The Far Side
of the World' at the first snore.

      The first few hours of the flight hadn't been bad.  The pilot had
been considerably less than thrilled to share his flight with a elderly
superior, he thought, was certain to be boring beyond words.
Particularly given the alternative company available, he'd promised to 
be faithful, not blind after all.  But, it turned out the old professor 
had a passable grasp of Mandarin and a fund of funny stories from his 
teaching days to tell in it.

      It made a decent consolation prize, Han had decided.

      But ever since the Deputy Director had drifted off, as they'd 
gotten closer to the end of the journey, Han had more and more trouble
keeping interest in a story that always hooked him no matter what.  He 
felt possessed by a sort of jittery, nervous energy that had him 
wanting to pace the small cabin, run a systems check on Eva-06, 
anything to distract him for a few moments.

      Making an irritated sound, the young soldier rummaged in his bag,
emerging with the earplugs he'd brought just in case and quickly
inserted them.  That done, he resettled himself in the seat and tried 
to return to the world of His Majesty's Ship Surprise and her battle 
against Bonapartist tyranny.

----------

      Shinji twitched at the tap on his shoulder, but didn't awaken.
Misato didn't press the matter further.  If the poor kid was wrung
out enough to sleep without even a set of earplugs, it would be a crime
to wake him just for conversation.

      Blowing a breath between pursed lips, his commander leaned back 
in her seat.  Around her their gigantic flying wing-style transport,
appropriately nicknamed 'Atlas', sped towards their destination.

      Amongst the other changes Second Impact had wrought, the downfall
of the American manned space program was perhaps not so important. With
its primary launch site in Florida inundated, and far more pressing
needs closer to home, it had appeared that NASA's days were over.

      And so they would have been, except in 2002 a young Boeing 
engineer made a startling realization.  While their bat-winged 797 
heavy lift/jumbo jet airliner prototype was unmarketable in its current 
state, with comparatively minor changes there was a role it -could- 
perform.  As a mothership for launching satellite or spacecraft 
carrying rockets.

      -Big- rockets.

      Five years and many a dire prediction later, the first Atlas 
rolled off the Wichita, Kansas assembly line, as they continued to 
today.

      Nerv's, or more accurately the UN's, examples were strange even 
by the standards of that odd breed. Certainly eyebrows had been raised
When reinforced landing gear, afterburners, and fully encrypted 
satellite communications gear were mentioned on the requirements sheet!  
But the customer is always right...

      "Major, the support aircraft got off on schedule.  ETA on the 
Angel is unchanged,"  Lieutenant Hyuuga announced from behind the 
controls, as befitted Nerv's senior transport pilot.  Lieutenant Aoba 
filled the same role in Neo Path 402, carrying Eva-06.

      Misato thanked him automatically, her mind occupied in mulling 
over the news.  Though reassuring, the announcement wasn't unexpected.
Twenty-two hours until the fun started.

      Sweeping her gaze across the cabin again, her eyes stopped on
Shinji's bookbag.

      'He won't mind,' Misato rationalized, and deftly plucked the 
music player from the outside pocket.  She hadn't seen an SDAT since 
she was a little girl, and couldn't imagine where her roommate had 
found it.  Smiling slightly, his guardian fitted the earbuds in and 
pressed play.


Hutchins Naval Air Station
Panama Territory
September 20, 2015
10:00AM Local Time

      Though the light show of the Angel's atmospheric entry was 
visible even in broad daylight, ironically those most intimately 
concerned with its consequences never saw it 'live.'  Shut up in their 
entry plugs, systems on standby, the Eva pilots were blind to the 
outside world as their transports awakened within their hangars.  Kozo 
Fuyutski was closeted with a succession of understandably rattled 
officials from nearby nations, soothing ruffled feathers as best he 
could.  And Misato again rode the lead transport, watching the Angel's 
progress on her laptop.

      "APU start," Makoto announced over the intercom.

      Lieutenant Moriso, their copilot, confirmed the command, a low 
whine muffled by the intervening structure starting from the aircraft's
tail.

      "I show green for auxiliary power.  Purging umbilical." Moriso's
bass voice reported crisply.

      A ground crewman dragged the heavy power cable away from the
aircraft.  Meanwhile, another team removed the wheel chocks preventing 
the craft from rolling on its small forest of landing gear.  Finally 
the crew chief signaled all clear to Makoto.

      //Kenny Loggins "Danger Zone" _Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow_ //

      "Umbilical clear.  Brakes set.  Main engine start."

      "Starting One and Eight," the copilot responded.  Outside the
craft, the keening wail of massive turbines spinning up reverberated
through the open ended structure.  Climbing towards an almost inaudibly 
high shriek, igniters sparked the mixture of air and jet fuel, 
instantly dropping their pitch to a bone shaking bellow.

      Makoto announced the next pair to start, to a further increase in
noise, and the next.  Misato was certain that her eardrums were about
to meet in the middle of her head.  She knew she should've snagged one
of those big sound damping helmets when she had the chance!

      "Three and Six." A moment later, "Four and Five.  Confirm all 
eight burning.  We are clear to taxi."

      The noise level dropped markedly once the aircraft left the giant
echo chamber of its hangar.  Misato sighed in heartfelt relief as she
returned to her map display tracking the Angel's descent.  Ignoring the
various lurches and halts, she nodded to herself.

      "So far, so good.  An ocean splashdown seems to be a running 
theme for these guys.  Fuyutski should be warning the Colombians we're
coming, so right now it's hurry up and wait."

      The plane lurched to a stop at the end of the runway, pausing
for a final systems check.  Misato approved, never mind the same check
had been run hourly since dawn.

      A brief announcement by Makoto preceded the obvious.  The engines
wound up from an idling snarl to a full throated roar.  Their exhaust
nozzles dilating wide enough to swallow a small car, the craft surged
forward under the thrust of eight of the largest jet engines ever
built.

      A sudden sharp shove rearwards announced the pilot had kicked in 
the afterburners.  Not in haste to be aloft, but a necessity to get an
aircraft weighing as much as a decent sized warship airborne within a
reasonable length of runway.  The markers whipped by with ever 
increasing speed outside the windows, the thumps of the tires crossing 
the runway seams becoming more frequent by the second.  A short hop 
followed by a bounding leap skyward announced they'd succeeded, the 
small window next to Misato granted a view of the remnants of Panama as 
they banked towards their destination.

      If the rise in sea levels had one advantage, it was the erasure 
of one of the classic choke points of world commerce, the Panama Canal.
Now better thought of as the Panama Strait, the entire area was wholly
owned by the United Nations.

      And makes up its major revenue stream, Misato added mentally.
Below her were a small horde of large and small freighters plying the
waters of the strait.  A naval officer like Commander Mardukas would
probably have a better grasp of the economics of the situation.
Still, even a grunt like her could tell that even a tiny cut of the 
cargo value of each of those ships in usage fees added up to serious 
coin in a hurry.

      Feeling the plane level off, Misato unstrapped and allowed 
herself a glorious stretch, letting joints stiffened from hours in her 
seat pop and snap.  Much refreshed, the Major paused at the door to the
Cockpit to confer with Hyuuga, and then headed aft to the cargo bay.  
Within a void that could have comfortably held a small airliner, Eva-01 
lay braced in a spider's web of restraints.  Upon scaling a ladder 
reaching to the entry plug socket, she picked up the ground crew phone 
latched behind a well marked panel.

      "Shinji, we're about fifty minutes out.  How are you doing in
there?"  His look of utter betrayal when she announced his assignment 
had sapped much of Misato's satisfaction at finding a way to soften the 
blow for the others.

      Unfortunately, this was a case of Major Katsuragi's needs 
Outweighing those of Misato herself.

      "I'm fine," a subdued voice replied.

      "Well if you need a stretch or bathroom break, now is your 
chance." Misato pointed out.  Once they began their descent to keep the
horizon between them and their foe, moving around unrestrained would be 
an invitation to a concussion.

      "It's ok, Misato," the boy insisted quietly.

      Misato sighed at the resignation in his voice, and what saddened
her was that she'd do it again.  Ritsuko had been right all along, damn
her.  All things have a price.  Shinji was a willing combatant now, but
he was also her family.  She owed him more than an order and a pat on
the head. "No, it isn't.  I could just as easily have brought Rei or 
Asuka for this, and we both know it."  Silence answered her, but the 
truth was obvious. "Do you know why I didn't?" she pressed after a 
moment.

      "No," he answered, recrimination in his voice.

      "Because of him." She angled her head outside, knowing he 
couldn't see her, but somehow also knowing he'd understand anyway.  
"Rei and Asuka have been pilots since they could walk.  It's been years 
since they were first closed up inside a giant metal tube and jammed 
into an experimental machine.  You, on the other hand, still remember 
what it's like to be scared every time you climb aboard.  So I decided 
that if I was going to bring along someone to shepherd a new pilot, it 
would be one I trust to do the job right."

      Misato waited for his reply, but as she was about to replace the
handset, Shinji spoke two words that lifted the weight from her
shoulders.

      "I'll try."


Colombia
10:55AM Local Time

      Han fidgeted nervously in the entry plug of Eva-06.  Lt. Aoba's
litany of time to drop and altitude corrections competed with the
sickening lurches and leaps the terrain-following autopilot commanded
the transport to make for his attention.

      "Thank the heavens I was too nervous to eat.  If I'd even had a
muffin I'd be throwing up my toenails right now," he groaned softly.

      Controlling his breathing as he'd been taught, Han pushed the 
Nausea back into its corner and focused on his more important if less
immediate problems.  While the Evas were certified for air delivery, 
apparently no one realized neither of the selected pilots had ever done 
an air drop for real.  In fact, the -only- pilot to proof test the 
system was on the other side of the world, and it struck Han as a bit 
late to call up Rei to ask for pointers!

      "Coming up on initial point.  Turning to final heading, reducing
speed to two-zero-zero."

      "Here we go.  Shinji, you'd better be right."  His fellow pilot 
had obviously been new to the whole pre-battle pep talk thing.  But the
central point, that even the Third Child got so scared his hands shook 
on the controls, was reassuring all the same.

      A few seconds later a glowing crack outlining each of the huge
doors making up the floor of the bay appeared below him.  As they
popped out and slid sideways along the transport's belly, a series of 
ridge lines loomed terrifyingly close before dropping sickeningly into 
the valleys between.

      "Stand by for drop.  Good luck, Eva-06."

      Tightly acknowledging the message, he waited as the countdown 
clock ticked down the last few seconds.  A muted bang announced the 
release of the restraints, and then gravity took over.

      An impartial judge might've given their landings a '3' if he was
feeling generous, considering the swath of demolished jungle the pair
left in their wakes.  But Han consoled himself with the fact they
weren't here to look pretty.

      Two hours later, he watched the Caribbean's waves lap against
the beach far below him.  It really was a pretty place, it's a shame 
they were going to make such a mess of it.

      Around him rose the jungle shrouded foothills of the Sierra 
Nevada de Santa Marta Mountains.  Ensconced behind one of them, Eva-06
sported the add-on batteries that made the operation possible in the 
first place.  Though granting only an additional fifteen minutes of 
operating time between them, laid like a trail of breadcrumbs they 
allowed the Evas to reach the airport where their transports waited.

      "We've confirmed the Angel has steadied down on its final course,
it will make landfall about three kilometers to your north.  Move to
point Charlie and set up, we're expecting company within the hour."

      Rogering the message, he made an irritated noise and hoisted his
rifle.  Beginning the march to his new position, Han waited for Eva-01 
to collect the bulky tube of its rocket launcher before setting off.

      The path they followed would have been impassible for anything 
much smaller or less agile than an Eva, but their twenty meter strides
Converted most of the obstacles into nuisances.  Thus, they were able 
to arrive with plenty of time to spare, for what good it did.

      While a crew of bulldozers and combat engineers borrowed from the
Colombian Army got to work digging new positions, Shinji surveyed their 
new position.

      He was less than pleased.

      Though the Third Child lacked anything like the tactical training
and experience of his commander or the other two veteran pilots, anyone
could see that the floodplain they'd relocated to was much less suited
to defense.

      "Misato was right.  You can never assume the enemy is stupid, 
just take advantage if it turns out he is."  Speaking of his CO, it 
looked like the command post had finished relocating as well.  She 
could've much more easily rigged a set of remote cameras to cover the 
new location, but Shinji appreciated the gesture.

      "ETA on the target?" Han asked in a flat, tightly controlled voice.

      "Soon.  The Navy lost track in the shallows, but it was still
heading this way."  Obviously the work crews had gotten the news, the
bulldozers were pulling out as fast as their treads could carry them
across the marshy ground.

      A single beep and glowing red arrow announced his AT field 
detector was tracking a new source, bearing almost straight ahead.  And 
there it was.  A plume of water half the height of an Eva approached at 
a speed a jet boat could've been proud of.  Shinji hefted his rocket 
launcher and waited, heart thumping in that familiar way.  The Angel 
finally ran out of deep water and rose majestically from the waves, 
granting their first good look at the invader.  Generally humanoid in 
shape, excepting the lack of a head, the Angel was so round shouldered 
it was almost hunchbacked.  It definitely sported the best paint job to 
date by far, white and green.  The red glow of its core, visible on its 
central chest, added an effect Shinji suspected would be creepy as hell 
in the dark.

      "Wait for it..." Misato warned.  The Angel was still far enough 
out it might successfully reach deep water if it retreated, and then
they'd never catch it.  "Let it commit a little more."  A long pause as
distance devouring strides brought it well past the water's edge, and 
then "Eva-06, open fire!"

      Han did so with gusto, a swarm of missiles shrieked out six times
faster than sound, followed by a stream of tungsten darts not much
slower, reaching out for the invader.  The results were horrific, 
chunks of Angel flesh -splashed- away from the impacts, the creature 
staggering under the onslaught as it turned to reply.

      By pre-arranged plan, Han ceased fire and cut his AT field, 
rolling out of the ditch a swarm of bulldozers ably assisted by a 
series of demolition charges had gouged for cover.  The Angel returned 
fire, narrowly missing with an energy discharge that boiled the water 
standing in puddles around the field as it passed.  Turning even 
further to keep Eva-06 in its sights, it all but turned its back on 
Shinji.

      "Steady..." Misato reminded him, the moment stretching out.  
"NOW!  Take him Shinji!"

      Eva-01 rose from its own shallow hole, sighted through the 
wafting steam, and fired in a single motion.  Three M-26 rockets sped 
towards their target's unsuspecting back, the Angel barely beginning to
realize the true danger.  The fireballs masked the scene to a degree, 
but there was no hiding the severed upper chunk cartwheeling end over 
end before flopping unceremoniously to earth many meters away.

      "Good shooting, Eva-01!" Misato enthused.

      "How can you tell?" the pilot responded, a little disgusted by 
the splatter-fest.

      Misato chuckled, and turned her attention to the other pilot. 
"And excellent work from our bait as well."

      "I try to please, ma'am," Han replied in turn, his voice 
betraying the barest hint of shakiness as his Eva picked itself up.  
What Misato's next remark would've been remained a mystery, preempted 
by the two masses of Angel tissue giving a great roiling shiver.

      '...the hell?' she wasn't alone in wondering.  A membrane of some
sort had formed over the two lumps containing the majority of the 
Angel's mass.  The seething beneath it quickly increased, the membrane
actually stretching in places from the forces within it.  Misato shook 
herself from watching the spectacle.  Keying her microphone, the Major 
was about to order the pilots to open fire when the membranes ruptured.

      Standing in place of the original were now two copies, perhaps
three quarters the height, and by her eyeball judgment about half the
mass.  Both had a slimmer, sleeker look than the original, and
coloration that had, oddly enough in this surreal situation, changed to 
orange and cream for one and red and cream on the other.

      The two pilots wasted no time in engaging once more, but the
difference was night and day.  The single angel had been slow, almost
hesitant in its movements, nothing like the aggressiveness and
precision its progeny displayed.

      Shinji expended his last rocket on the nearest Angel and 
discarded the empty launch tube, drawing his pistols from their 
shoulder hardpoints.  The Angel made no attempt to dodge, and the 
projectile plowed into its target head on, wreathing it in smoke and 
flame.  Charging through the other side, the Angel was much the worse 
for wear, its left arm hung practically by a thread from the ruin of 
its shoulder.  Before Misato's horrified eyes, the flesh knit and 
flowed like hot wax around the injury, sealing it and restoring 
function to the limb in a mere handful of seconds.  Han was doing no 
better, his status display indicated he'd exhausted his missiles and 
his rifle was almost empty as well.

      Her head snapped around to Aoba, manning the communications 
panel.  "Call in the bombers, now!"

      The lieutenant hurried to comply, the low, urgent tone at odds 
with the battle cacophony that had to be audible to the receiver.

      Twenty kilometers away, a pair of French-built Super Entedard 
light bombers waited.  Flying a lazy oval pattern out of sight of the
battle, the dart-like aircraft abruptly turned and streaked towards the
conflict.

      Upon arriving above a point distinguished only by the symbol 
marking it on the pilots' displays, the two bombers nosed up, climbing 
at a precisely specified angle.  The single fat green bomb fixed to 
their centerline bomb racks released in unison, continuing on a 
ballistic arc as the launching aircraft terminated the loop and scooted 
away at top speed.

      Far below, the two Evas frantically trying to hold off their
Tormentors backpedaled furiously, their pistol's muzzle flashes 
strobing in rapid fire as they sought to disengage.  The Angels were 
having none of it, pursuing the Evas with frightening speed.

      "Major..."  Hyuuga questioned.  The displayed circles, estimated
blast radii from the bombs homing on the Angel, still significantly
overlapped the mechs' positions.

      Misato swore venomously.  "Both of you, get down, now!"

      The Evas complied with a haste borne of desperation.  Moments 
later, the sun was joined by two sisters in the sky.


5:00PM Local Time

      "At least the Deputy Director is around when they ask about
redrawing the map,"  Ritsuko teased over the satellite link.

      Misato laughed sourly. "Yeah, thanks for that."  The craters left
by the pair of N2 bombs had been impressive, but implying the national
map of Colombia needed a redo was a little harsh.  Though you wouldn't
know it by the way those fishermen reacted.  She'd never been so happy
to be ignorant of Spanish.

      "Are you going to resume the attack?" the doctor asked more
seriously.

      "Not yet.  The last thing we need is to wake those bastards up
before we're ready."  The Angel halves, for convenience's sake 
designated Alpha and Beta, were content to repair the damage inflicted 
by the air strike.  And they were going to finish much sooner than 
Misato would like. By Ritsuko's best estimate the Angels would be fully 
repaired within seven hours, far too little time to fly in 
reinforcements.

      "Speaking of our friends, we've found something interesting."

      "Oh?"

      "Definitely.  Here, I'm uploading a set of thermal images from 
the battle."  Accepting download of the promised images, upon opening
them Misato saw they each showed half of the angel, one from Eva-01's
sensors and the other from Eva-06's.  "This one of Beta is just after 
that rocket hit.  Notice the increased temperature around the wound.  
Now, take a look at this one of Alpha, taken at exactly the same time."

      The similarities were obvious.  "So it's doing...what?  Siphoning
energy from each half to power faster repairs?"

      "Most probably.  Given how synchronous they act in other ways, I
wouldn't be at all surprised."

      Misato nodded to herself as she turned over the possibilities.
"Thank you. You might have given me an idea."

      "I can do one better.  Here."  Another download box popped up.

      "Oh, Ritsuko.  If you weren't too curvy for me I'd marry you."
Misato breathed upon scanning the contents.  "Thank you, thank you,
thank you," she all but rubbed her hands together in glee.

      Ritsuko chuckled indulgently. "Not me.  Someone else will have to
take the bullet."

      Misato stuck out her tongue at the camera clipped to her laptop.
"Who then?"

      "You wouldn't believe me if I told you.  Good luck, Major."

      A short walk brought Misato from her cubicle in the command van 
to their temporary camp.  The Evas bore mute testimony to the nearness
of disaster, their paint blistered, ablative coatings scorched and in
places burned through.  They now crouched behind a nearby rise, out of
direct line of sight from the rapidly regenerating Angels.

      Misato found her pilots seated in the shadows of their Evas, 
Shinji with his earbuds in and Han paging through his book.  Both of 
them looked considerably better than they had a few hours ago.  Han had 
excused himself once he'd reached the ground and hadn't been seen for 
almost half an hour.  Shinji's previous experience had let him deal 
with the aftereffects a little more gracefully, but no one handles an 
up close encounter with an N2 blast 'well.' 

      'If a case of the shakes is the worst either of them has at the 
end of this, I'll be turning cartwheels,' Misato decided upon reaching
them.

      "Major," Han stood and greeted her once he noticed her approach,
Shinji following suit.

      "Dr. Akagi completed analysis of the data we've gathered so far.
I suggest you get yourselves something hot to eat and sleep if you can,
I'll want you at the command post in two hours."


11:30PM

      Shinji waited impatiently inside Eva-01 as the last minutes 
ticked down.  Misato's assurance aside, the guilt of letting her down 
had refused to abate even in the face of cold logic.  Exhaling slowly, 
he took his hands off the control sticks to avoid an accident.  All it
would take would be one nervous twitch...

      The crew ferried in aboard the Leviathan that followed them from
Tokyo-3 had worked wonders in the time available.  Reapplying the
ablative outer layer of their machine's protection, trucking in fresh 
battery packs, reloading weapons, the camp had been a veritable beehive 
as Misato's latest brainstorm was transformed into reality.  During 
that time, he and Han reviewed a 3-d map of the area with the Major 
until they almost didn't need the cockpit displays.  Ironically, they 
were planning to practically retrace their route in getting here, which 
should help in luring the Angels into better terrain.

      Misato had called the basic principle a 'Parthian shot.' The idea
was to attack in turns, like they had before, but with the important
difference that they were only trying to keep the Angel following them
into an area of their choosing.  Then, and only then, would they turn
the tables.

      "I hope she's right again.  It makes sense nothing good for
the Angel's energy sharing could come from putting a bunch of solid
rock between them, and maintaining their coordination will be a lot
tougher in the mountains than a flat plain.  But the past three months 
have been one long demo of Murphy's Law."

      //Martin O'Donnell and Michael Salvatori "Halo Theme" _Halo OST_ //

      The timer blinked down to zero, and Shinji's finger tightened 
around the trigger, sending a burst of 105mm sabot rounds howling into 
the night.  In the false color image of the Eva's thermal imager, he
traced the projectiles' fiery path.

      The response was not slow in coming.

---------

      Misato forced herself to radiate the calm confidence her staff
needed to see, as she gazed through the low light scope at the
unfolding battle.

      But it was so hard.

      Leaders lead, that was the core of her training.  As an enlisted
tanker so long ago, later a new minted lieutenant graduated from OCS,
and later still as a Captain teaching there, she knew that was the
minimum a UN soldier could expect.  Through the years she'd dozens of
superior officers in action, some brilliant and some barely competent,
but the defining feature of them all was that they ordered no risk they
were unwilling to share.

      And yet now, she couldn't.  The best Misato could do was make a
token gesture by moving her command post, and the knowledge of her
helplessness bit deep.  Right now the fate of the world hung not on
her, but on the skill and courage of two battle weary teenage boys.

      Who, so far, were performing exactly as she'd hoped. Taking turns
firing on the Angel halves, they forced them to follow or risk leaving
an undefeated enemy to their rear.  As the Evas withdrew along their
respective routes, her worst fear, that the Angels would rush them,
didn't seem to be coming true.  Wisely, they appeared unwilling to get
themselves in too deep too quickly.

      "Well done, Eva-06!  Move back another two hundred meters and do
it again," she encouraged after a particularly well placed shot split
the Beta's core down the middle.  Even as she watched, the wound began
to close, but if she wasn't mistaken... "Maya, how are we doing?"

      "Regeneration rate is down eleven percent.  It's working!" the
technician excitedly confirmed.

      Misato nodded, though the tech certainly couldn't see her from
a console in Tokyo-3.  "So far, so good, pilots, their regeneration
is slowing.  Eva-06, maintain course.  Eva-01, enter the ravine at
your four o'clock..."

----------

      "...And continue suppressing fire.  Draw Alpha in as far as you
can."

      'That won't be hard,' Shinji snorted to himself.  His target had
been -delighted- to follow him wherever he went, which didn't show
spectacular judgment on its part.

      Of course, this Angel didn't -need- much finesse.  Every shot
was like firing into raw dough, the wounds just flowed back together.
The only clue he'd had any effect at all was about a metric ton of
Angel matter splattered along the length of his retreat path as some of 
its mass was blasted completely away. 'One ton down, six hundred odd to
go...' he thought with mingled nervousness and frustration.

      Pausing to change clips in his rifle, Shinji imported the camera
view covering the bend concealing him.  He thanked whatever gods may be
that this Angel was more like his first opponent than the latter two.
The only reason this plan had any hope of working was this monster's 
lack of flight ability.  The tight quarters minimized Alpha's agility
advantage, while knowledge of the terrain and a string of ammunition 
dumps meant Shinji could control when and how he engaged.   Misato had 
done her best to stack the deck as much in her pilots' favor as humanly 
possible, now it was up to them to make sure her effort wasn't in vain.

      Leapfrogging backwards once more as Alpha charged up its primary
weapons and blasted a chunk out of his cover, Eva-01 was about to reach
the end of the line.  Not too far to behind him was a relatively open,
though forested, clearing that would greatly enhance the Angel's 
freedom of action.  Unfortunately the Angel knew it as well as Shinji, 
and aggressively pressed forward to hasten their arrival.

      Until, as it was gathering itself for a leap, it stopped.  Some
critical combination of damage, distance, and obstruction had finally
been reached, and the link that bound the halves into a single whole
was severed in the blink of an eye.  Uncertainly, hesitantly, Alpha 
rose from its crouch as if dazed, and took a single shuffled step back.
And another.  And another.  Some instinct whispered to the boy warrior 
that this was no trick, the signs were too clear, too well meshed, to 
be a deception.

      And so even as his commander began to give the order, Eva-01 
sprang to the attack.  Emptying his rifle into the foe, Shinji then 
filled his hands with a progressive knife and a pistol.  Using the one 
to blast gaping holes in the bewilderd angel and tie up whatever local 
resources it had on hand, the other readied the killing blow.  Angling 
the prog knife in an underhand stab, Shinji zig-zaged as he closed, a 
trick learned from Asuka the hard way.  He sideslipped a last desperate 
blast from the Angel's beam cannon, and as the knife went home, the 
world went white.

----------

      "****Ev*****repeat****" the static hissed in and out as
electromagnetic interference from the self-destructing Angel blanketed 
the spectrum.  Han had salvoed his remaining HVMs into the Angel's core 
at the climax of his comrade's knife charge, the simultaneous 
destruction of the two cores seeming to have been the trigger for the 
suicidal act.  Shinji was becoming a little too fond of that tactic for 
Misato's liking, she'd have to reinforce the virtues of ranged combat 
at some point, after dealing with an R&D section crestfallen from 
finding out samples would be extremely skimpy from this expedition.

      "****come in***jor Katsuragi." the static finally cleared as 
enough debris settled for a communication laser to get through to the
satellites overhead.

      "Katsuragi here," Misato breathed a sigh of relief "Status 
report, please."

      "Eva-01, moderate to major armor damage, nothing internal.  I'm
mobile."

      "Eva-06, moderate external, and I lost a chunk from my left arm."

      "Ok, we'll get that patched before we leave," she answered over 
the outburst of cheers from the onlookers.  Shaking her head in wonder,
she continued "I'm not sure I believe it, but for once an op went
according to plan around here."


Nerv HQ
Tokyo-3
September 21, 2015
1:30AM Local Time

      Vengeance will be swift.

      That was the first coherent thought in Han's mind since he'd 
stumbled into his room directly from the airport.  The soft knocking on 
his door brought him back from the very -edge- of dropping off for 
about a month, if he had anything to say about it.

      Snarling something his mother would've been shocked to hear, the
bone-weary pilot hoisted himself out of bed and answered the door.

----------

      If a vision of handsomeness had been what Nami was expecting, she
would've been sorely disappointed.  Her boyfriend stood in rumpled
boxers and a t-shirt probably recycled from the dirty clothes pile, his 
hair in tufts, and eyes threatening to slide closed any moment.

      It had to be said, he'd seen better days.

      "Hey. Sorry to wake you, I thought you'd still be up," the
diminutive pilot whispered.

      "I wasn't asleep yet, come in." Han stifled a yawn and batted at 
the switch panel a few seconds before finally getting the lights on.

      "No, I'll be quick.  Since someone obviously had better things to 
do than come tell me he's back in town." Han's groan threatened to 
break her annoyed girlfriend act, but she held firm. "And there's only 
-one- punishment that fits the crime," she continued grimly.  Her heart
melted at the plaintive 'you've got to be kidding me!' look his 
expression rapidly slid into.  Well, that was fixable, Nami decided as 
she took a step closer, locked in her target, and sprang.

      "Can we -please- oomph!" his protest was summarily cut off by the
sudden and through immobilization of his mouth.  Relaxing into the
warmth of his embrace as Han began to return the kiss, she glowed 
within at the knowledge he was safe once more.  Standing on her 
tiptoes, arms wrapped around her partner's neck, she held it for a few 
more seconds before gently breaking away, her hands sliding down to a 
more reachable height on his chest.

      "And don't let it happen again," she warned him softly, a finger
poking into his sternum to drive the point home.  Suddenly grinning
up into his pleased though startled face, she leaned in close once 
more.

      "Welcome back."


      //Joe Satriani "Big Bad Moon" _Live in San Francisco_//
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's notes

      Not much to say about this chapter, except for the obvious point
that due to the new faces around the plot will start diverging some,
though not -too- much yet, from the show.  I like to think monkeying 
with a show's plot is the whole point of a fic in the first place, so 
no surprises there.

      Many thanks to Arkiel Yien of Evafics, for his tireless efforts 
at proofing this chapter.

      Also, expect an increase in FMP specific happenings, as that cast
moves to share center stage with the Eva crew.

Soundtrack
Pat Benatar 'Invincible' _Greatest Hits_
Kenny Loggins 'Danger Zone' _Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow_
Martin O'Donnell and Michael Salvatori "Halo Theme" _Halo OST_
Joe Satriani "Big Bad Moon" _Live in San Francisco_