NAVSTA Joshua Tree, Los Angeles-2, NV, US
Captain’s Office

<<Hmmm.  I don’t approve of what you’ve done, Captain Ayers,>> a gruff voice said on the other side.  The video screen, via a teleconference call from the burgeoning, relatively new NERV Branch-3 in Berlin, showed the face of the man in charge of the NERV organization.  And that face radiated annoyance at having to be bothered with this issue.

“And I don’t give a damn what you think, Ikari!” CAPT Ayers snarled into the transmission pickup.  “That was my call, and my call alone.  I was given discretion on disposal of the Autospine wetware, and I did as I saw fit.”

Gendo pushed his glasses back onto his face, where they’d been slipping.  Switching to a soften tone, he said, <<Look, Pamela....>>

“Don’t give me any of that ‘Look, Pamela,’ shit, Gendo!” Ayers snapped.  “Don’t think you can browbeat me into submission.  You may be in charge of NERV, but I am in charge of US involvement in the project.  If you so much as give me any crap, I’ll pull the plug on this and scrap those precious EVAs of yours.  DOD is still well ahead on our TCM project, and it won’t take much to switch to that.”  Her eyes radiated sharp anger as she said in a hiss, “You are to leave the unit alone, do you hear me?”

Gendo knew she was bluffing; his information had indicated that the American Transformable Combat Mecha project--jokingly labeled by the media as the “Robotech defense system”--was like the French Lancelot mecha project.  That is, it was an over-budgeted disaster and as slow and plodding as any American government project was.  Still, Gendo knew that when cornered, the US military historically had a bad habit of pulling rabbits out of their hat.  He still needed their cooperation if what he planned was to succeed.  <<Very well, Pamela.  You win this round.  But don’t test my patience again.>>  With nothing further to add, he cut the line, something which Ayers felt she could live with--she hated talking to the bastard, anyway.

Ayers leaned on the table, drained.  She’d spent the longest time trying to ensure that something like this wasn’t going to occur, and that had blown up in her face.  Well, she’d just have to switch tactics.  Bad enough that she didn’t really trust Ikari or his right hand man, but there was something about him that automatically told you that he might not be on the level.  Ayers knew better--she knew he wasn’t on the level.   She just had to keep the status quo going until she could find a way to trip him up.

Enough of that, though.  There were other things to worry about.  Tapping a button on the control panel, she said, “CIC, this is Captain Ayers.  Put the Officer of the Deck on, please.”

A voice answered a couple of seconds later.  <<OOD, Cap’n.  What can I do for you this evening?>>

“What’s the status of air operations?”  Three aircraft had left Edwards about ninety minutes ago, bound for New Vancouver.  The reason was simple: DEFCON 1 conditions had been detected at the McClannehey Proving Grounds.  A NATO operation, the facility was the world's largest supplier of N2-class ordnance.  Without that, a huge portion of the arsenal humanity had against the Angels would be rendered useless.  No way in hell that was going to happen.

<<Give me a few to get in contact with Edwards Control, ma’am,>> the OOD replied.  Ayers waited for a few minutes before the OOD was on again.  <<Just got off the horn with EdCon.  Angelic Rapier flight will be landing at RCAF Cotter’s Pond in five minutes.>>  That group of aircraft was the US EVA team, racing to defend the Canadian munitions plant from destruction.  <<Exodus Wanderers 25 and 26 are approaching Alpha point, and will pass zenith in the next twenty minutes.>>  The sole C-37 Dragonwing was carrying its payload, the damaged Unit 03, to its intended repair facility at Tokyo-3’s Geofront complex.  Following close behind it was a small C-27D Tempest, a lear-jet like passenger unit that was carrying the Candidate pilot and support staff.

“And what of Tembatsu Shinden flight?”

<<EdCon reports they’ve just left New Yokota.  JASDF FX-1s will be escorting as far as their range; after which fighters from the Reagan will handle the second leg.  Once they approach Canadian airspace, Cotter’s Pond will have their Eurofighters finish up the job.>>  Even more important than Angelic Rapier flight, the four aircraft that comprised the flight leaving Japan was the entirety of the Japanese EVA team.  More experienced than the US team, it would be up to them to provide backup.

“And conventional forces?”

<<Dunno about that, ma’am.  I’ll have the Duty Intel Officer report to you with that information.  Will there be anything else, ma’am?>>

“No,” she sighed.  “Carry on.”

<<Aye, ma’am,>> he dutifully replied before breaking the connection.

Once he did, Ayers sat in her office, staring at the paperwork, which she soon ignored.  Her eyes wandering, they eventually fell on a picture of her and Raven after the latter’s graduation from Officer Candidate School.  That had only been about four months ago.  She’s just a child, my little girl.

Ayers idly recalled that she’d heard once that a member of the Japanese team was Ikari’s own son, pressed into the duty against his will.  Well, so was Raven, and Ayers hadn’t given her much choice in what she wanted out of her own life.  After this war is over, Ayers vowed, I’m going to support whatever Raven wants for her future.  I don’t care what it is.  As long as she’s happy, I’m happy for her.  The Commanding Officer of Naval Station Joshua Tree and Commander of NERV Branch-2 vowed that she would never become as cruel and heartless towards her own daughter as Ikari was apparently towards his own son.

The fear for her, though, was obvious: what if I already am?

JASDF C-17D Galaxy, codename Tembatsu Shinden 01
Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean near Kamchatka Island, Russia

Racing into the darkness of the eastern night lumbered a bulky, C-145D Galaxy IV cargo plane.  Usually used for the transporting of troops or armament, today, it carried a much smaller group of military personnel and a far more different array of technology than it had ever done before.  As a result of this modification, the plane did not bear the drab olive green color scheme of the JASDF, but instead a blinding white, black, and red schematic that was clearly identifiable as an aircraft assigned to NERV.

Behind the whale-shaped prop plane were the black arrowhead shapes of the C-37 Dragonwings, each carrying one of the precious EVAs strapped under it.  Darting around the four great craft were the sleek predatory shapes of two full squadrons of combat aircraft; the Japanese FX-1s were at the edge of their range and making ready to turn around, even as behind them a squadron of heavily-armed US Navy F-23s, which would run escort right up to Canadian airspace.  In the waning light, the four huge cargo craft seemed to lumber along with a sort of unconcerned air, even as the two teams of fighters performed flight position replacements.  After a few minutes, as the group reached the International Date Line, the fighter switch had commenced, and the Japanese sped towards home under the protection of Russian MiG-I2000s that came by to assist.

Within the passenger section of the modified cargo craft, most of the team was asleep in the rather uncomfortable, utilitarian seats that were on the aged cargo plane as it sped towards the North American continent.

Most.

Seated at the center conference table in the passenger section, three lone souls were in a sort of bonding that all military members had done from time to time.  Though NERV was more a paramilitary organization than an actual army, this still didn’t remove itself from the traditional camaraderie that people in those situations shared.  Two men and a woman sat at the table, the two gentlemen looking rather uncomfortable in the soft gray uniform of NERV’s pilot corps, while the slightly older woman seemed a bit more relaxed wearing the red of NERV operations staff.  In seats nearby, a few more people were asleep, wearing either pilot gray, or the tan that was the mark of NERV technical personnel.

“Okay,” Toji said, setting down his cards.  His steely gave never wavered as he took two cards from the dealer, but he relented for a second or two as he added, “I just don’t get it, Shinji old pal.  You’re supposed to be lousy at this, man!  The last time we played poker, you couldn’t win to save your life, and now you’ve won the past two out of four hands!  What the hell happened?”

Misato yawned, then looked around for a beer.  When realizing one was not available on the military flight, she muttered, “Don’t look at me.  I haven’t taught him anything.”  Her own glance unreadable, she simply looked at her cards and said, “I’m out.”  She dropped her hand down, a rather anemic one at that.

At the third end of the makeshift table, Shinji said nothing, but inclined his head in the direction of his bondmate, asleep in a chair on the other side of the passenger cabin.  The look on his face was not the typical poker face, but a warm, caring glance as he thought about her.

Misato saw that look.  “Shinji, I--“

“We’re being careful, Misato,” Shinji answered, as he pushed a few more yen into the sizable pile in the center of the table.  “She and I have already agreed to go slowly.  Very slowly.”

The older woman nodded agreement.  “I’m glad you did.  The situation you two are in is very dangerous, for more than one reason.  We can’t afford you two to slip up on that.”  She grinned wolfishly and said, “Maybe when all this is over, then you can.  But I’d rather you two behaved yourselves until then.”  At Shinji’s slight blush, Misato commented cattily, “Or have you two already been experimenting?”

“NO!” Shinji cried, a little more loudly than he intended to.  “No way!  I’d never!”

On her end of the cabin, a young girl twitched in her passenger seat, sleeping peacefully.  Turning slightly, she half-murmured, half-cooed, “Oh, that feels grrrrreeeaaat, Shinji-kun....” and crawled into a fetal ball.

Misato gave Shinji a knowing look, while Toji merely snickered.  Shinji, on the other hand, went pale as a sheet, the card game forgotten.  If the trio could have seen Asuka’s face, they would have seen a mischievous grin on the face of the sleeping young woman.

Shinji, his composure lost, grunted, “Aw hell.  I fold.  You win, Toji.”  Shinji tossed down his hand in disgust, his set of cards far better than what Toji held.  As the newer EVA pilot scooped up the pot, Shinji commented, “We should call this game quits, anyway.  We should get some sleep before we arrive in Canada tomorrow.”

“Personally, I can’t sleep--I'm just too primed for what we’re about to do,” Toji said.  “I mean, getting to visit another country an’ all....”

Misato retorted softly, “Sometimes visiting other places doesn’t work out the way you want it to....”  Her voice was distant, and the look in her eyes hinted that she was looking at a horizon beyond the metal confines of the aircraft hull.  Unconsciously, her hand crept up to her chest and the cross that she wore around her neck.  “No, sometimes it doesn’t....”

Shinji, not wanting to disturb his mentor, tapped Toji on the back and commented, “C’mon, let’s hit the simulators.  You still need the practice.”  Toji complied eagerly, as the simulators onboard the craft were designed more for practical application of movements and protocols than the actual synch ratios.  In short, they were overly expensive videogames.  Quietly, the pair headed towards the access ladderway, leaving Misato to her bittersweet memories.

The plane rushed on towards the lands in the east, towards a conflagration that could spell the end of humanity.

RCAF Cotter’s Pond, BC, Canada
Visiting Officers’ Quarters, Fifth Floor

“I said, leave me alone, Raven,” a voice said, quiet and packed with a slow-burning anger.

“Look, Carter, what can I say to tell you that I’m sorry, okay?” Raven retorted, her own anger growing by the minute.

“I don’t give a damn what you were planning to say.  I just want you to leave me the hell alone!” the young man snapped, his tolerance limit clearly reached.

“FINE, THEN!  I DON’T KNOW WHY I BOTHERED TO TRY TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU!” she snarled, turning to stomp away from the idiot who she was trying to--

“All right you two, that’s enough!” Kendra sniped as she opened the door to her room and glared at the two in the hall.  The pair looked pretty ridiculous, with Carter still dressed in his working khakis, while Raven was dressed in her favorite PT getup--a set of red too-short shorts and a very tight black tank top that read !3M TA3.  Around her neck was a white gym towel, and her SDMI player, the headphones set entirely too loud as usual.  At first, the scene looked like a pair of high school brats arguing in the hall; only the rank pins and decorations of Carter’s uniform and Raven’s green smart ID card slung around her neck gave any indicator that they were anything but.

“Look,” the older woman said, “I know you two aren’t exactly going to get along with each other for a while--"  If ever, Kendra silently admitted; ENS Raven Ayers had a lot to make up for her tragedy-borne stupidity the previous day, “--but may I take the time to remind you two of a few things.  One, despite your age, you two are US military officers in a foreign country, and you need to act like good ambassadors of American goodwi--"

Raven yawned at what she felt was the bullshit typical line.  “Yeah, yeah, Kendra--we hafta be good little zeros,” she muttered, deliberately using the enlisted insult towards officers.  “So you want us to be well-behaved little squidlings and skip the Tailhook convention.  You were saying?”

“--and two,” Kendra continued without skipping a beat, “if you two do not stop this childish display right here and now, I’ll see to it that you two will personally handwash your EVA units for the next two months using nothing but paper towels!  Do you get my message?”

Carter feebly nodded, while Raven’s eyes narrowed in slits of anger.  Eventually, she too, nodded in understanding.

“All right then.  Now don’t forget that tomorrow morning I want you two prepped and ready to meet your Japanese counterparts.  And please, try not to embarrass the entire U.S. military this time?”  Nothing more to add, Kendra shut the door and went back to whatever she’d been doing.

Carter looked at Raven, his face still filled with an unforgiving look, and now added with this latest insult.  Saying nothing more, he headed back to his own room.

Raven stood alone in the middle of the hall, unable to vent whatever emotions were roiling inside her.  Grunting an epithet, she declared, “The hell with them--you'd think they’d rather see me dead than the Mouse.”  In her mind, she added, An’ I don’t blame them.  Maybe I shoulda died instead of Wendy.  Unsure of what to do next or how to express the pain she held, she went back to her original plan and headed towards the base gym, where she would likely force the anger out through some sort of exercise.

She doubted it, though.

Von Weisstrausse Casern, Berlin, Germany
SEELE/NERV-3 Conference Room 4A

Keel Lorenz stared that the flat panel display that gave him the readings on the most recent Angel attack.  The look on his face was a study in desperation in trying to keep calm.  Vaguely looking around the table, he saw the same things as others did: complete and utter amazement.  The secret Dead Sea Scrolls, the remaining documents that had not been translated over the years, were to have given the complete plan on how to deal with the real days of Revelations, not that trippy prose that was at the end of the Bible.  Using that set of ancient leather, it was meant to detail the correct way to deal with the Angels.

Well, the time of Revelations was at hand, and here they were, reading the scrolls, which had turned out to be frighteningly accurate.  From the point of the Second Impact, straight through to the defeat of the Sixth Angel, things had been alarmingly real, as though the documents were nothing but a script to a play already written.

That changed with the appearance of the seventh Angel, the one code-named Maruiel.  The scrolls had spoken of a twinned creature to be code-named Israfel, described as:

“A beast that doth be a mockery of the form of man, a homunculus that shall cleave itself in twain when approached by adversity unto itself....”

With such an expectation on hand, not one had been expecting anything else.  And since the Angels had shown an inclination to attacking the stronghold in Tokyo-3 since the Third Angel, all had been going according to plan.

Well, the appearance of the torus-shaped Angel blew everything out of the water, for now and forever.  And here was SEELE, in their stronghold in NERV-3, attempting to deal with it.  Strange things were being reported from all corners of the globe now, and by all appearances, the bizarre events that were recorded at the end of the Bible were seeing to come true.  From fishes that had been dying in droves off the coast of the Island of Hawaii, where the seas were said to be boiling, to the inexplicable discoloration of the nighttime sky, creating the moon that was as red as blood.  Events of the Revelation were now occurring on Earth, along with the Kabbalic mysteries of this war which some wags in the know were beginning to call “The War of Ascension”.

But every battle had to have some sort of OPLAN, something to go by.  And if that was the case, what was the true document to reference?  The Secret Dead Sea Scrolls, which had now been proven to be not as authoritative as they’d expected; the Book of Revelations, which was by far and away was thought to be completely off-base, but now was beginning to show signs that it had been accurate to some degree, after all; or some incomprehensible combination of the two, joined in a manner so twisted that humankind would fail in its understanding of the whole issue?

Perhaps, the answer wasn’t even found in any Judeo-Christian-Islamic tome, he thought.  Maybe the answer is in Hinduism, or in Shinto legends.  Maybe even in Zoroasterism or something even more obscure.  Maybe even it is up to us to create the answer for ourselves, though I cannot be too sure of that.

Lorenz looked across the table at Ikari, and noticed that for once, something was different about him.  Although his face was the usual stoicism of complete control, for once there also seemed to be an aura of chaos around him, an element that hinted that something was no longer in control.  Lorenz wondered what that might be, and decided he would take action on it later.  Perhaps it might be the key to controlling the uncontrollable Ikari Gendo.

RCAF Cotter’s Pond, BC, Canada
Runway 01

Standing in the shelter of a nearby hangar, the members of the US Joint Mechanized Strike Force, awaiting their counterparts from NERV HQ.  It was a dour-looking day, and though it wasn’t likely to rain today, the iron color of the overcast sky made things uncomfortably chilly for this time of year; enough so to require the three to wear jackets today.  While Kendra was currently wearing her basic working khakis, the two pilots had opted for their biosuits, wearing their bomber jackets over them.

Wearing the gray, black and purple of his biosuit, Carter felt uncomfortable.  He, like so many of the other pilots he’d known, tended to lean towards superstition.  One of those superstitions for him was that every time he slipped on his pilot gear, he’d end up fighting fairly soon.  Although, until the events of the other day back in LA-2, the only fighting he did per se was to arrive on the scene moments after an Angel had vaped it and moved on.  It was inexplicable, but afterwards, they were drawn to Tokyo-3 like flies.  Personally, he wished they had stayed there.

Raven, in her white, orange and red version of the biosuit, tried to concentrate on the situation at hand, even though she felt dam uncomfortable.  Neither Kendra nor Carter had forgiven her for the Mouse’s death, and truth be told, neither had she.  Fuck this shit, Rave.  All you have to do is to get out of this alive, show up the damn Japanese, and get Carter off your ass.  Maybe if we can beat these damn Angels, I can score me an upgrade to JG or something.

Watching the aircraft slowly coming in, under escort by Canadian fighters, made the whole scene look like an ominous invasion from beyond.  An irony, Kendra realized; these forces were here to prevent said invasion from beyond.  One of the most critical battles in humanity’s history was likely to take place several miles northeast of the base at the nearby McClannehey Proving Grounds, and the line was being held by some of the world’s most courageous fighting forces.  But the tip of the spear, as military clichés went, was in the hands of a bunch of kids who should be thinking more about the trials and tribulations of teenhood.

Only five minutes late, the C-145D Galaxy IV came in for a landing with all the grace of a beached whale.  Kendra, a fighter jock herself, laughed; she never could imagine herself flying one of those tubby bastards.  The Dragonwings, on the other hand... she mused as the C-37s moved into a stationary position and cut their main engines in favor of the VTOL nozzles.  The three black aircraft descended slowly, lowering their payload onto the massive flatbeds that would make the transfer to the hangar currently reserved for the Japanese EVA team.  Meanwhile, the Canadian fighter squadron, satisfied their job was done, winged away from the runway and bolted off in the direction of their base, several more miles away.

After a few minutes of taxiing to their assigned parking spot and shutting down the flight systems, the great door on the back of the plane rolled down, and out of the plane boiled various techs and support personnel, carrying off equipment and other materials necessary for the EVA units to do their job.  Last to come out of the plane was a mid-sized group of people: one wearing the red uniform of NERV operations, a couple wearing the tan of technical, and four teens wearing the muted gray of aviation.  The group began to walk towards the Americans, and Kendra, her charges in tow, did the same.

The two groups met in the middle.  Misato spoke first, her English being better than the others, and to assure the Americans there would hopefully be no language problems.  “LT Chapel, I presume?”  Misato didn’t bother to salute; the less protocol on the ground at the moment, the better, and from what she read of the briefing of this officer, she was pretty much accustomed to ignoring the rules as well.

 “That’s correct, major.  LT Kendra Chapel, USN, OPS Officer for US JMECHSTKFOR and NERV-2.  And these are my pilots, Ensign Kaoru C. Nagisa, pilot for Unit 05--“

“Just call me Carter,” the boy said, offering his hand.  “Always preferred my middle name, anyway.”

“--and Ensign Raven Ayers, Unit 04’s pilot.”

“How the hell are ya?” Raven said in her usual brash tones, putting her hand out and knowing that it would probably set the staid Japanese on their ear.  Instead, she found herself being stared at, as though she was some sort of freakshow on display.  She was about to give a big WTFO, but a second later, she found out why.  And suddenly she felt like a sort of freakshow on display.

The Japanese team could only stare in wonder at the strange sight before them.  Not the rather normal looking gray-haired, red-eyed boy in the odd American plug suit; but rather, his companion.  The girl with the brash attitude, and bright, cheerfully daunting eyes.

A girl that, with the exception of the long hair, was a complete match for Rei, in terms of looks.  Even more jarring, the girl had a personality that made pre-bonding Asuka look like pre-bonding Shinji--and that was saying a mouthful.  Still, professionalism was professionalism, so Misato shook off the surprise and said, “Well, a pleasure to meet you all.  As you’ve already figured out, I’m Major Misato Katsuragi, and to my side is our EVA pilots, Second Lts. Shini Ikari, Asuka Langley-Sohryu, Rei Ayanami, and Toji Suzuhara, the EVA pilots for Units 01, 00, and 02.”

“Four pilots for three units?” Kendra asked, the same thing on her mind as on Misato’s: where the hell did you dig up a person that looks like a twin of my pilot?

“Unit 01 is a dual pilot plug,” Misato explained.  “Shinji and Asuka are, um, gifted.”

“Well, they definitely seem to work well together,” Kendra added, noting that the two were holding hands.

“That they do,” Misato added, perspiration coming to her brow, her hand waving frantically while she held it down, trying to signal for them to quit it; she didn’t dare turn around to tell them.  “And they make up a vital component of our team.  Speaking of components, I thought that you were supposed to have a full complement of pilots as well.”

Kendra bristled at that; she brushed it off, though, writing it off as military brusqueness and not an attempt to be insensitive to their recent loss.  “After the death of Second Lt. Del Vientos, we’ve had to scramble to get a new pilot for Unit 03 while it’s being repaired over at your facilities.  To speed up the training process, we’ve sent our next candidate over there to see if she’ll cut it.  If not, NERV-1 will supply the pilot for Unit 03.  Other than that, my current pilots will have to suffice for this operation.  They may not have the experience that your forces have, but they’re highly trained officers despite their ages, just as yours are.”

“Never doubted it for a moment, LT Chapel.  You have our condolences on the loss of your teammate.”

“Thank you, Major.  Well, I’m sure that you’d all like to settle in, and my team still has a few more things to attend to.  I’ll have some of the base staff show you to your quarters, and give you a couple of hours to get settled until we all meet at the briefing this morning.”  Kendra signaled, and a couple of Canadian airmen came by to assist the Japanese team with things.  “Be seeing you, Major Katsuragi.”

“that girl looked like me,” was all Rei said when the Americans had walked off.

“That was kinda creepy,” Asuka admitted.  “That American pilot was a dead ringer for Wonder Girl here, except she had a personality.”

“The Wonder Kid with a personality,” Shinji mused.  “Now that has to be a really frightening thought.  Hey, whaddaya think, Toji?”

“I’m trying not to,” he admitted.  “I found it too mindwarping a concept.”

The three other pilots had a hearty laugh about this while the pilot of Unit 00 simply stood there and watched as the girl who looked exactly like her walked into a nearby building.  strange...she looked exactly like me.  but she acted differently than i do.  could she be another me?  She had to admit it was possible.  It also had another effect on her: the curiosity that if it was true, was she really capable of acting like that?

Meanwhile, Misato, having finished giving directions to the assistants, rounded up her charges and said, “Okay, you guys, let’s get settled in and relaxed, and then we’ll figure out what’s going on.  Oh, and Shinji and Asuka, may I remind you about a little thing called military protocol?  As in: no holding hands while in uniform?!?!?!”

Asuka shook her head in dismay while Shinji snarled, “Okay, then I’ll just have to forget about that little incident with Major Hamayata last week, right?”

Misato eeped.  “Yo-you know about that?”

Shinji gave her a nasty grin.  “Misato, I consider you like family, so I’m not going to discuss details.  Especially the part about your secondary scar from the Second Impact.  You know, the smaller one down by your--“

“You wouldn’t dare,” she commented, in a tone that was half-warning, half-shock.

Asuka smirked.  “Misato, I think that we pilots would like some time to relax and look around the base before we get settled in.  Please be a dear guardian and let us?”

The older woman wasn’t expecting the change in tone.  “Er, Why?”

“Because you think dearly of me and Shinji-kun, and you think well of Toji and Rei, too.”  Her tones clipped back to catty as she added, “And because I think you’d rather that I didn’t tell, oh, say, Kaji about a certain dream you had the other night?”

Misato’s eyes bugged so wide at those words, Toji swore that she almost looked like an anime character.  Feeling sick to her stomach, she moaned, “I guess we...could use the downtime.  I’ll contact LT Chapel and ask her to reschedule the meeting for later.”

In a saccharine-sweet voice, Asuka said, “Thanks, Misato!” while Shinji had the same self-satisfied smirk on his face that seemed to say, “You’re the greatest, Misato!”  The NERV officer merely looked at them with an ashen glance before wandering off, muttering, “I really could use a beer right now....”

As she walked off, Toji looked at the pair, who merely gave each other knowing looks of satisfaction.  “I’d really like to know how you two know about things like that.  It might come in handy someday.”

Asuka smiled cattily.  “It’s called being a total bitch, Suzuhara.  You should try it sometime.”

Toji turned to the male half of the Dastardly Duo.  “Okay, then, so what’s your excuse?”

In a disaffected tone, Shinji yawned a sort of answer: “I dunno.  Being an alpha male or something like that?”

“What?  I don’t get it.”

“We thought so.”  Patting his friend on the back, Shinji said, “Well, shall we go enjoy our time off?”

Raven turned the corner and counted to ten before cutting loose with her tongue.  Frankly, it was the longest the girl was known to have kept her temper.  “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!?!?!”

Kendra gave Raven a helpless shrug.  “That’s what I’d like to know.”

Carter gave her a wolfish grin.  “Maybe the Japanese cloned a new and improved model.  Notice how nice, quiet and unassuming she was?”

Raven responded to that flattering bit of information by turning and flipping off her teammate.  “Sit and spin, cheese dick!”

“Guys, knock it off,” Kendra warned.  She was already still spinning from the sudden appearance of another Raven.  This was only adding fuel to the fire.

Of course, her pleas went unnoticed by the two combatants.  “Go to hell, Raven!” he snarled.

Raven’s fists balled in anger.  “You’d better check your six, pretty boy, or I swear that I’ll--”

“OR ELSE YOU’LL DO WHAT, RAVEN?!?!?!”  Carter, unable to hold in his anger, exploded with a fury that no one had ever seen in him before.  Getting right up to her face, he roared, “WHAT, YOU’LL GET ME KILLED TOO, JUST LIKE WENDY?  GOOD FUCKING GOING THAT’LL BE, YOU GODDAMN SCREWUP!!!!!  MAYBE THAT’S WHY THE JAPANESE ARE BUILDING BETTER YOUS!!!!!  SO WE CAN GET A COPY THAT’S NOT SOME MENTALLY DERANGED LOOSE CANNON!!!”

“I AM NOT A CLONE, YOU FUCKHEAD!!!!!!  IT HAS GOT TO BE A COINCIDENCE!!!!!!!”  Raven instinctively drew back to punch him; it was a tactic that usually worked with other guys, and Carter here was no different.  What stopped her were his words, as they sank in.  My God...is that what they think of me?  If she could have seen herself in a mirror, she would have noticed that she went completely ashen, and between her blanched face, pale blue hair and red eyes, she appeared very much like an albino.  As though not even under her control, her hands dropped limply to the side for a second before she whispered in a shaky voice, “No...that’s not true...that’s not true and you know it!”  For reasons she couldn’t explain, she found herself covering her ears, trying to block out the hated words that she feared were the ring of truth.  “Leave me alone!” she cried, not realizing the irony in saying the words that he’d said to her last night.

“KNOCK IT OFF, ENSIGNS!!!!!” Kendra screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to get some semblance of calm.  “THAT’S A DIRECT ORDER, YOU TWO!!!!!”  Unfortunately, her attempt to restore military discipline was failing, and badly.  Gods, the last thing I need is for base security to show up and toss these two in the brig, but I’m tempted to toss them in there, myself!

Unaware of Kendra’s thoughts, Carter continued to bear his soul.  “BULLSHIT!!!!!  I’VE HELD MY TONGUE LONG ENOUGH, RAVEN!!!!  I’M SO SICK OF YOUR FUCKING ANTICS!!!  I’M SICK OF YOU PICKING ON WENDY BEFORE SHE DIED, AND ME!!!!!  I’M SICK OF HEARING HOW HOT SHIT YOU THINK YOU ARE!!!!  I’VE HAD IT UP TO HERE AND I’M NOT GOING TO PUT UP WITH IT ONE MORE FUCKING MOMENT!!!!  I WISH YOU WOULD JUST GO TO HELL AND STAY THERE!!!!!!”

Something beyond the edge of control snapped within Raven, and as her eyes became twin daggers of pain and rage.  “I.  SAID.  LEAVE.  ME.  ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she finally bellowed with the voice of a woman at her edge, cocking her fist back to beat the hell out of Carter, and to hell with what base security did to her.  She was fast enough that neither Carter nor Kendra would be able to stop her at least for the first volley of punches, and for her, that would be more than enough.

“please, do not punch him,” a nearly whispered, very soft voice said in accented, halting English.  The three turned around to see one of the Japanese pilots staring at them; specifically the one that looked like Raven--what was her name?  Ah, yes--Rei Ayakawa or something like that.

Raven turned to face the apparent doppelganger.  “Just what is it to you if I spill his guts all over the deck, huh?”

“i would rather you didn’t,” Rei responded.  “i don’t like red.”  She said in such a plain-matter-of-fact tone, that all the rage drained out of Raven as complete confusion dawned on her features.

“Oh, so you don’t like blood, huh?” Raven snarled.  “Then why the hell are you an EVA jo--”  The girl’s train of thought was instantly halted as the two made eye contact.  Red eyes met red eyes, identical faces framed in same-hued hair, as though a fractured image of Gemini had been brought into the third dimension.  Rei was the first to break eye contact, and Raven’s fists fell to her side, as though useless and spent without even performing the task they were summoned for.

Seeing her job was done, she murmured a “thank you,” then walked down the hall, as though nothing had happened.

The three watched the girl walk down the hall, eventually turning a corner and disappearing from sight.  When she was gone, Kendra, no longer livid but now completely lost, said, “I hate to say it, you two, but that girl is creepy.”  Turning to look at Raven, she noted the girl herself was beginning to shake, as though suddenly struck by palsy.

Carter noticed it, too.  Putting aside his hatred of her for the concern of a teammate, he asked, “Hey, Ayers, you okay?”

Raven never answered, as she was too busy trying to control herself from what she saw in the other’s eyes.  I saw death in her eyes.  Countless deaths.  All of them hers.

All of them, mine.

A couple hours later the meeting was held, sans the pilots.  In light of Asuka’s personal desire for them to be left alone for the rest of the day, Misato contacted Kendra and suggested the change.  Kendra, still embarrassed about the aftermath of Raven’s outright warfare in the halls and the sudden halting of it by the Japanese ghost girl (as Raven was naming her), was only too quick to agree.  Kendra made a few more calls to various other officers involved, rescheduling for the next day.

The pair met in the O-Club’s coffee shop, both having deemed it still a bit too early to drink.  This decision lasted all of two seconds, and eventually the two found themselves in the O-Club’s wet bar, downing Mooseheads by the dozens.  Much more warmed up, they chatted about many things and got to know one another, both palpably shying away from the Rei/Raven issue.  They did discuss the other pilots though, and how they would integrate the two pilot groups.

Leaning over her twelfth beer (having settled on twelve as a nice, reasonable number after she passed the twenties), Kendra slurred, “So…ya zink we shud haf tha tu gruups of pi-pi...jockeys sit down amongst themselves?”

Misato dizzily nodded.  “Haaaiiiiiiiiiii!” she said, her voice slurred.

“Hi t’ yu to,” Kendra replied.  “Soooooooooooo...we star’ t’mrrow?”

Misato nodded, unsure of how to answer that.  In turn, Kendra bobbed her head vigorously in a reasonable attempt at a nod, but instead ended up banging her head on the table, knocking herself out.

Misato gave the unconscious American a wide, stupid grin and mumbled, “I think this ‘s gunna be th’ start ov a bea...beau...great friendship.”  No further philosophical points to add, she passed out as well in an alcohol-induced sign of solidarity.

JASDF Airbase New Atsugi, Japan
Runway 7

The officer, resplendent in her class “C” uniform, gave Ritsuko a sharp military salute.  “Reporting as ordered, Major Akagi.”  She then slipped into parade rest, her seabag standing also at military height.

Looking at the briefing sheet, Ritsuko said, “Dr. Akagi is fine--I rarely use my rank.”  Ritsuko tore her eyes away from the file, and looked at the American pilot.  Despite having spent all those hours in transit, you’d never know just by looking at the military bearing the girl, a US Marine, had.  To paraphrase Misato, Ritsuko thought, the girl looks like a poster child for Heavy Armament.  Despite having a slight build no bulkier than say, Asuka, the girl’s eyes had the look of a calculating beast--the very look, the scientist noted, that American Marines were known all over the world for.

Ritsuko had to admit, the US branch of NERV was a lot more prepared for war than the Japanese branch was...if only because it was run by the US military, vice the private organization that Japan’s NERV was.  If it weren’t for the fact that Tokyo-3 saw a hell of a lot more action than any of the other places in the world, they simply wouldn’t have the level of readiness that the Geofront currently enjoyed...if enjoyed would be such a term to be used in the situation.

“Well,” Ritsuko said, looking at the girl’s single gold bars on her uniform and trying to remember the rank, “Lieutenant, you’ll be participating in synchronized tests with our own candidate.  If you succeed, you will become the new pilot for Unit 03, once we make the repairs to it.  If not, our pilot will take over, and you will likely be assigned to support and intelligence, where your secondary specialty lies, okay?”

The Marine slipped from parade rest into attention.  “Yes, Doctor.”  She slipped right back into parade attention, and Ritsuko stifled a groan.

Great.  I’m stuck with this one until Misato gets back.  Oh well....  “Okay, then, Lieutenant, you’ve been issued an apartment on this address.  You’ll be living next door to the other pilot, so it might behoove you to get to know each other.”  Ritsuko handed the girl a slip of paper, then waved her hand to signal a few JASDF airmen to escort the Marine.  “Report for duty at eight, okay?”

“Aye-aye, ma’am!”  Another salute was thrown in the direction of Ritsuko, and the Marine, escorted by the two airmen, went off towards the nearest car.

Ritsuko watched them as they left.  Why do I get stuck with the weirdoes in this world? she asked herself, before realizing it was a gauntlet of sorts.  If things worked out the way Gendo had planned, there would be a grand change in the way the world worked, and the name of Major Akagi Ritsuko, MD & PhD, NERV Science Division, would be at the forefront.

RCAF Cotter’s Pond, BC, Canada
Visiting Officers’ Quarters, Suite 208

Asuka stepped out of the shower, heading towards the bed that she and Shinji shared, grabbing only a towel to wrap around herself.  She didn’t bother to throw on clothing or anything of the sort.  It didn’t matter anymore, after all; he’d seen inside the deepest depths of her mind already, so what good was modesty going to do?  Besides, maybe tonight, she began her thoughts.

Without looking up from reading a book from where he lay on top of the bed, Shinji said, “I thought we wanted to hold off on that, Asuka.”

I was just teasing you, Shinji-kun, she thought, continuing to test out their newest skill.  Besides, I always thought that if I did something like that, I would do it with the man I love.

And what am I?  Day-old sashimi?  It was the closest he’d come to asking if she did.

She only thought it would be fair to give him an appropriate response.  Moving to his side, she took the book out of his hands, leaned against him and kissed him with all the passion she could give that was hers to give.  As she breathlessly broke away, she sighed, “Everything for you, Shinji-kun.  Everything for you.”  As if by some silent cue, she slipped away the towel, letting him see her as she was.  Exposed to him in a way she’d never offered him before, until now.

“Asuka,” Shinji said, averting his eyes from roaming over her perfect body and concentrating on her face.  “I--”

“I love you too, Shinji,” she said, a lump in her throat.  “But I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“I’m so afraid that I’ll be left alone when all of this is over.  That something, or millions of something, will happen.  What if they find a cure for what happened to us?”

“Then I won’t take it,” he insisted with firmness.  “I don’t want anything that’ll separate us, Asuka.  I don’t want to be alone anymore.  I don’t want you to be alone anymore.”  Kissing her tenderly, she could feel her feelings reciprocated as well as the willpower it took to keep certain other feelings under control.  “Asuka, you have no idea how hard it is to fight this,” he admitted.

“Then don’t.  Shinji, if you want me, I’m yours,” she said in a soft voice.  “I’m always yours.”

“Not until this is over,” he said, with some difficulty.  “But when this war is over, then we’ll see.”

She could see that he was fighting it for both of their sakes, not only because of their duties, but also because it just wasn’t the time for it.  She swelled at pride at the boy she loved, and knew that if he could control his longings, so could she.  But with that, there was a new fear in the back of her mind, one she tamped down immediately.  “If we’re going to wait that long, then we can wait until I’m Ikari Asuka.”  She said that so matter-of-factly that both giggled at the prospect.  Here they were, discussing their whole life in five minutes.  And to top it all off, she said, “And we’re naming our son Heinrich.  We can name the girl after your mother.”  Leaning closer to him, so close he could practically taste her breath, she whispered, “Shinji, I don’t know if I can fight it much longer.  Being here...in your arms....”  Unconsciously, neither of them was realizing that she was already unbuttoning his shirt, her control slipping.

Fortunately, there was a knock at the door, and an unfamiliar voice called out in English, “Hey, Ikari!  You in there?”

That snapped the two out of their reverie.  “Um, yeah,” he answered in the same language, having learned it from Asuka’s years of living in Milwaukee.  “Just a minute!”  The pair gave each other a rushed, passionate kiss, then Asuka grabbed the towel, making sure she displayed what he’d just fought so hard to give up...and conversely, protect.  Giving him a loving look, she went back into the bathroom.

The male half of them went to the door and opened it to find the American (what was his name again?) and Toji standing there, both dressed in civvies and looking rather casual; while Toji was wearing his usual jogging gear, the other boy wore a crew-neck jersey and faded jeans.  Running his fingers through his long gray hair, he said, “Hey, man, Toji and I were going to head over to the base movie theatre and wanted to know if you wanted to go.  You know, that ‘getting to know each other’ stuff we gotta do.”

“Just getting out of your uniform, Shinji?” Toji asked.

“Um, yeah.  Been reading a book for the past couple of hours, just trying to kill the time.” he responded.

“Funny, I thought you and Asuka would have found a more...intense...way to fill the time,” Toji joked.  Shinji shot him a murderous look, and Carter merely chuckled at that.  “So, you coming, Shinji?”

“Um, sure.  Hold on a sec.”  Asuka?

Sure, she responded to him.  It’ll...be a good idea to test how far we can be from each other.  There was a tinge of sorrow to her voice somehow, but Shinji wasn’t going to pry.  What little privacy they had left they were entitled to, and she might just want some right now--the sorrow just might have been hormones he misread.

Within a couple of minutes, Shinji had slipped into a polo and slacks and the three of them went off to go learn about each other in the spirit of international goodwill.

A few minutes later and curled into a ball, Asuka cried on the bed, unable to hold her fears outside of her body, if she could hold it in the private parts of her mind.  She was shivering, not from cold but from something even more elemental to the human condition: she was terrified.  And that terror had a name: Shinji, but a better name for it might be Asuka’s itself.

Shinji, how can you be so brave? she ruminated, holding onto one of his shirts for comfort.  I don’t want to be alone.  I just want you to be with me forever.  What am I going to do when you leave me?  What am I going to do?  Never once did she even believe that he would be around forever.  He said he would, and she believed that, but then her parents told her the same thing.  So did his.  The truth was, there was no such thing as forever.  Nothing, that is, save for the fear in her heart.

I hate what I’ve become.  Not the bond with Shinji; that was so much a part of her life now that she constantly wondered how she could have lived without it until that day.  Rather, it was more the emotions that came with it.  Part of her personality had slipped into Shinji and he was no longer the passive male that he used to be.  But the bond went both ways, and the passiveness that was part of Shinji’s old persona, now was a part of hers, and gradually becoming more dominant.  They were slowly becoming what the other was, and if it wasn’t for the fact that they’d fallen in love, she knew that he would have left.  After all, she knew that if things hadn’t happened the way they did, she never would have stuck with such a person as he’d been.

There was a knock at the door.  She wanted to say “Go away,” or just to ignore it and pretend that she was sleeping.  But she didn’t--the person was company, a lifeline.  Taking a second to slip on underwear, a T-shirt, and shorts, she went to the door, wiping her tears away and trying to bring up a pleasant smile, or at least an easily faked one.

Standing on the other side of the door, was Rei, of all people.  “sohryu,” she said in her monotone.  “i need to ask you something.”

Why are you here, Wonder Girl? she asked herself.  But, company was company, so....  “Um, sure.  C’mon in.  Shinji’s not here.  He went out with the guys.  Would you care for something to drink?”  Don’t ask for 40-weight, ‘cause I’m fresh out, robogirl!

“water, please.”  She sat down on one of the chairs, and as Asuka came back from the kitchen, she began to speak.  “i need to talk to someone.  about what happened today.”  There was an almost human look in the Wonder Girl’s eyes, Asuka noted.  “that american girl...ayers.  she looked just like me.  when i looked into her eyes, i realized she was me.”

The fact that Rei stressed that last part somewhat bothered Asuka.  It just wasn’t like the Wonder Girl to show emotion.  It was like she wasn’t capable of it, and that any attempt to do so violated the natural order of things.  “C’mon, Ayanami, you’re just freaking out.  You’re acting like you’re...”  Asuka thought about her statement for a second, and wondered who it applied to.  “...afraid?”

Rei looked at Asuka dispassionately, then said, “i don’t know.”

“Look, Ayanami...Rei...what is it about her that freaks you out?  She seemed, I dunno, kinda cool.”

“i saw death in her eyes.  i saw red.   a thousand versions of me, all dying in a sea of flame.”  Things were getting really weird, now.  Rei was sounding poetic, the puppet daring to be human.  “is there something wrong with me?”

“Maybe you need to relax, Rei.  Whatever it is you do to relax.” Asuka sighed inwardly.  She didn’t need this, while she was trying to deal with her own problems.  She was afraid herself--what could she do for Rei?

Maybe the best way to deal with your fear is to deal with hers, she realized.  Acting on spontaneity, Asuka went up and hugged the albino, saying, “Don’t worry, Rei.  Your friends are here for you.”  Did I mean what I just said? she wondered before realizing, yes.  She was at a point in her life where she couldn’t afford to push away anyone anymore, and she found that she no longer wanted to.  An eternity ago, she would have probably taken on the world single-handed, with no regrets; Asuka couldn’t dream of doing such a thing now.

“friends?” Rei asked, as though she’d never heard the term before.  “i feel so odd...so warm.”

Asuka loosed the embrace and said, “That’s friendship for you.  I know I tease you a lot, Wonder Girl, but...ah, nevermind.  Let’s just say that you’re a friend.”  Rei, unsure of what was transpiring, merely nodded.

Asuka, in the meanwhile, had another brainstorm and said, “Hey, I’m tired of sitting around here.  Wanna go out for a bit?”

“where?”

“I dunno.  The mall, maybe?  Or possibly a movie.  I wish Hikari were here--she’d have some ideas.”  Reaching for her shoes, she said, “But anything’s gotta be better ‘n sitting around here, right?”  Opening up her mind, she called out to Shinji, and said, Shinji-kun, I’m gonna go out with Rei for a while, okay?

It took a while, likely due to distance, but there was a response.  Wonder Girl?  Why her?