McClannehey Proving Grounds, Canada
Headquarters Building, Briefing Room

“Look, I have no idea what you’re planning,“ the Canadian Army Major said to Misato and Kendra, “but let me point out to you that we are in the center of the world’s largest storage area of N-2 munitions.  If something goes boom here, it will go boom big time and we’ll have to rename this base ‘Ruins of McClannehey Memorial Canyon.’  We have enough ordnance here to create something the size of the Gulf of Holland, not to mention the fact that we’re also mentioning widespread ecological and collateral damage!”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Major Salvatore.  I’m pretty sure we noticed all the ammo bunkers on the way in,” Misato pointed out.  “Last time I checked, HQCOMUNARPAC gave us the basic schematics of the base, and we were able to upload them to our EVA units.”

Kendra also turned to the major, pointing to the communications headset that she currently wore.  “Additionally, I’m point comms with all of our units.  So don’t think that we’re not paying attention to current ops, okay?”

As if on cue, the comms came alive.  <<Spectra Prime, this is Spectra Chaser Delta.  We should be within five klicks of the main gate of the facility.  ETA is about 10 minutes.  The convoy carrying Specs Alpha and Charlie are still a ways behind, but Spec Echo is escorting.  Spec Bravo in in the middle ground right now.>>

“Thanks, Raven,” Kendra answered before relaying the information on to Misato, taking time to also add, “According to Spectra Pallets One and Two, EVAs 00 and 01 are still charging up their battery nacelles, but it’s slowing down the two heavy lifter tracks due to the excess power drain.  EVAs 02, 04, and 05 don’t find anything on the horizon.  Do you think it’s a good idea to have them going so slow?”

“Personally, I like the idea of them going slow.  The least thing we need are all of your giant robots running around here and dancing like they’re the cast of A Chorus Line!” Major Salvatore retorted.  “Personally, I’d like nothing better if your guys went to the other side of the base, where your units will be stationed, as far away from the munitions as possible!”

“Major, you do realize that walking around the perimeter of the base will take the better part of the day, especially if we have to move the units through the forest on the southern side,” Kendra noted.  “If we walk through the center of the base, that’ll only take us four hours to get to the rally point.”  The Navy LT gave her counterpart a resigned look, the sort that she usually held in reserve for senior officers that didn’t listen and Raven after a particularly annoying day.  In turn, Misato gave her counterpart a knowing half-smile.

“I don’t see where moving through the center of the base, with the seismic effects that your EVAs put out every time they take a step, is going to benefit base security.”

“And I don’t see how delaying us for endless hours is going to save your ass when the Angels get here!” Misato snarled under her breath, though her point was made.

At this point, Major Salvatore knew that he wasn’t going to win this situation.  “Look, I’ll talk to the General and see what he has to say.  I don’t like your plan in the least, but I’d be a fool if I didn’t think that we didn’t need to get those units on-scene as soon as possible.  In the interim, I’ll have Captain Stackpole come by and see what we can do to make this whole adjustment easier.”  Not even bothering to wait for a response from the two women, he left the room in a huff.

“Man, what a living attitude problem,” Kendra commented as soon as the door closed.  “As the senior officer here, Misato, I think you oughta deal with him.”  The smile on her face was clear: I sure as hell don’t wanna deal with him!

“What, don’t they teach you how to deal with bastards like that at Annapolis?” Misato asked, teasing.

“Sorry, but I’m not a NAVCAD,” Kendra explained.  “ROTC didn’t teach me how to finesse trees like that.”  Tapping the commline back on again, she said, “All Spectra Units, this is Spectra Prime.  We’re going silent on this end for a couple; Spectra Pallet One has the conn until we come back online.  Spectra Prime, out.”  Taking off the headset, Kendra stretched and asked, “So, what now?”

“Well, personally, I’d like a beer, but we’re probably better off setting up as soon as possible.   “What’s the current threat assessment?”

Kendra glanced at her JEDI unit, before answering, “We’re still at DEFCON 1.  JICPAC doesn’t have any new information, nor does CUNMIF.  We’ll have to stop by the local spook shop on the third deck and see what they have in the way of tidbits for us.”

“Who’s the post Intel Chief?” the NERV officer asked.

“Take a wild guess,” Kendra deadpanned.

“Salvatore?”  When the other nodded a disgusted agreement, Misato sighed and said, “Okay, let’s go deal with him, then go get a beer or two.  If this whole situation is anything like what we’ve seen so far, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

A few miles away, an unusual convoy was taking place.  On four huge diesels, two each side by side with a massive slab in the center, sat EVAs 00 and 01, currently charging up their external battery nacelles in the event that something went wrong.  Behind the two transport pads was EVA Unit 02, running as normal due to the S2 organ within.  Just a slight ways in front, powered by their respective Studer or nuclear drives, were EVAs 04 and 05, also ready for confrontation.

Within the plug of Unit 02, Shinji and Asuka were somewhat relaxed, Asuka taking control from her co-pilot’s position behind Shinji.  During the final set of tests and juggling EVAs, it had been determined that despite earlier test indications, the pair were best suited for control of Unit 02; perhaps there was a passive bond between them and the S2 organ.  Rei had tested out better on Unit 01 than she had on 00, which left Toji piloting the original EVA.  There had been some minor adjustments done at RCAF Cotter’s Pond, but now the three units were reset optimally and hopefully, it would stay that way.

Asuka tapped a couple of keys on her control panel, increasing the sensory scan of the area.  “Shinji-kun?”

“Yes, Asuka-chan?”  Shinji’s eyes were closed at the moment.  A bit tired, he was trying to take a nap, one of the benefits that the two shared over the single-seat EVA models.  With his control panel set for standby operation, it was minimally powered but able to come back up in a second should there be a need for it.

“Do you feel that something’s wrong about this whole situation?”  She didn’t really have to ask him; she knew the answer to it already – that when one felt something, the other would as well.  It was more of a conversation need than anything else.  “Something really bothers me about this whole place.  I mean, why would the Angels bother to hit here?  It doesn’t make sense at all.  Granted this is the largest N-2 factory in the world, but still…militarily, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“Whoever said the Angels had to make sense?”  Shinji shrugged, opening his eyes, then turned to look at her.  “Besides, this could be a sign that they’re working to actively obliterate all of humanity.  I’d be less worried if they were trying to only hit Tokyo-3.”

The red-haired girl nodded.  “Well, I don’t have a good feeling about this.  We’re not familiar with the terrain.  At least with Tokyo-3, we know the city grid well.  Out here, it’s nothing but forests and wide-open spaces.  Not much cover, and whatever the next Angel looks like, it could cause us some trouble.”

“Hrm.  You have a point.”  Reaching over, he hit a button on his comm panel, bringing up the connection to the other EVA units.  “Hey, do any of you have any hard data on where we’re going?”

<<Nope, can’t help you there, Shinji,>> Toji answered.  <<We have some information regarding the operations section of the base we’re going to, but as for the actual patrol zone, the Canadians haven’t released that information yet.>>

<<they may feel that we do not need the information as of yet,>> Rei offered.  <<the information may be classified as a “need-to-know” protocol.>>

“Good point,” Asuka admitted.  “What about the Americans?  You think they might have some of it?  They share information through their NORAD joint command, right?”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask,” Shinji agreed.  Cueing another connection, he asked the pair.

“Nope.  The Deck Officer didn’t give us anything,” Carter said, “and even so, we shouldn’t transmit it over the clear like this.”

<<Who the hell needs data?>> Raven answered, from her seat in Unit 04.  <<Just give me a firing solution, and let me rock!>>

Carter groaned at those words.  Typical of her to act like that, he thought.  She’s going to get herself – or anyone of us – killed.  And personally, I don’t want to be around when that happens.

He was half-tempted to voice those comments, when he heard a new voice come online.  <<All Spectra Chaser Units, this is Spectra Prime.>>  The voice was neither Kendra or that Japanese major, but clearly whoever it was knew the authorization codes, and was clearly getting through.  <<We have possible inbound bogey.  Spectra Chaser Delta, you are to proceed to these coordinates and engage.  All other units will continue on course.>>  Just as quickly as it came online, the voice disappeared, with communications returning back to normal.

<<Well, gang, headed off to do some killin’,>> Raven chirped over the commline, as she headed off in the new direction.  <<I’ll be sure to take a few pictures for you for posterity!>>

“Hmmm…” Asuka muttered as she cued the scanner.  “Hey, Shinji-kun, can you take over the controls?  I have to check out something on the sensors.  It doesn’t read a Blue Pattern, but I want to make sure that our systems aren’t malfunctioning.”

“Sure,” he said, reaching for his controls.  “Is something wrong?”

“I’m sure it’s not,” she answered, “but I want to make sure.  I’m picking up echoes of some sort…as if there are other high energy readings out there.”

“And you’re sure it’s not Angels?”

“I just said so, right, baka?” she said teasingly, reaching forward to give him a loving kiss on his cheek.  “No, I’m more concerned that we’re having sensor difficulties, is all.” 

In a forest due south of the assembly, a man stood in the center of a glade, trees encircling the area like some sort of oversized faerie ring.  A man in his early thirties, he had a severe, perhaps brutal look to his face, as though warfare had been a way of life for him since the very day of his birth.  Of average height, he had a lean build, the sort that worked well to the advantage of mercenaries, spies, or elite Special Forces troopers.  His tan skin was showing the first signs of extensive weathering, and he looked like he could use a haircut, likely a shave as well.  He wore only a pair of black cargo pants and a brown turtleneck sweater.

No one was sure of the full identity of the man was.  He looked too vague to be of any nationality, and his English was tinged with an unidentifiable accent (and he spoke several languages, anyway, so pinpointing one was useless); his manners and customs didn’t single out a particularly identity of region, either.  If there was anything to even remotely give him an identity, it would be the name he went by, Gaston; and the code name that many of the world’s intelligence and law enforcement agencies had the man classified as: Garuda, the same name as the phoenix of Indonesian mythology.  Quite simply, he was one of the more dangerous mercs on the planet, a threat to many long before the world had even heard of the Second Impact, much less the Angels.

Garuda put down the comm headset that he’d been given by his current employer.  The ruse had been given, and the EVA pilot, not suspecting duplicity, had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.  As Garuda picked up his control unit for the cluster minefield, he stopped to wonder at the current strangeness of the situation.  Here he was, ready to destroy one of the American EVA units, as ordered so by his employer, the commander of the Japanese section of NERV.

He lit a cigarette, taking a puff.  Was there some intrigue building in the organization, some sort of schism between the American and Japanese branches?  It stood to reason: the American military, long used to pretty much having the run of the world, probably didn’t care much for being suborned in any role to the previously pacifist Japanese – and a civilian group of Japanese at that.  Yet, he thought, removing the cancer stick from his mouth and puffing out a haze of gray, it had been the order of the Japanese officer to assassinate one of the American units, and a specific one at that.  He would have taken the time to wonder why, but that could wait for a later period, after he completed his mission. 

In the distance, he could hear a strong rumble, combined with that of slight tremors.  The unit was coming closer, and it would be soon time to spring the trap on it.  Bending down slightly, he tapped a few buttons on a small box set in a backpack, then reached over and opened a small panel right next to the set of buttons.  Reaching inside, he triggered a small black toggle switch.

In the distance, in the adjacent clearing, several rows of metal spikes slowly flitted towards the air, the olive green sensor wands stretching towards the air like a set of new trees set on fast-forward.  Eventually they stopped at the one-meter mark, where they quickly began to glow with the white, golden, and sky blue hues of electrical currents.  A second later, the spikes dropped down to a half-meter as camouflage-marked plastic sheathing rose up to cover them, masking the charges for the mines.

Garuda gave himself a small, terse smile; the PPC mines were a work of art; a small, evenly laid minefield of twenty-five Dumont EMP mines, designed to work in tandem to knock out a group of American M3A11 Powell railgun tanks, Russian BNKD supertanks, or, it was theorized, one Lancelot-class mecha.  If it was strong enough to knock down a Lancelot, likely it could knock down one of those prototype American TCMs, or, as he was hoping, the American Evangelion unit that was approaching the area.

As the rumbling became louder and closer, he reached into his pocket, pulling out an aged, weathered cell phone.  Set to a frequency more often used by MiniDVD players and SDMI broadcasters, it was unlikely to be discovered until it was far too late.  Clicking the volume control buttons on the side of the phone produced a Morse code communiqué to the others on Garuda’s team, who were supplied with the weapons needed to perform the deed at hand.

With only a few hundred yards more to go before the EVA arrived, Garuda walked over to the nearest tree, taking only the time to grab a black satchel and sling it on his arm before he began to scale the wooded giant’s heights.  Halfway up, he stopped at a particularly large branch, sat down and set up camp.  Ensuring that the place was ideal for a clear shot – indeed, he could see many of his mercenary teammates poised in similar positions in their own trees – he unslung his bag and began to assemble the various pieces within.

When it was complete, he stared in marvel at this new wonder of wonders, created by the nascent NERV branch in Berlin.  An AT rifle, a weapon the size of a conventional rifle that fired a focused beam of AT power as though it was a laser rifle from one of the science fiction movies that were so popular when he was younger.  Of course, that was back in the days when the world was fragmented but not fractured, before the culling time the world called the Second Impact.

Once complete, the assembly felt comfortable in his hands.  Vaguely shaped like the Namcot 9mm Hammer railpistol, the AT rifle’s profile also sported a gunsight, a longer muzzle and barrel, and a bracing stock.  The power core, a round protrusion on the side, gave no indication of what exactly powered the AT weapon, but it did indicate that the weapon was good for three minutes of short blasts; or one thirty-second, high-energy stream.  It was this last function that would be used.

It was this last function that the ten men of Garuda’s assault team would use to kill Ensign Raven K. Ayers, USN, the pilot of Evangelion Unit 04.

NERV Branch-1, Geofront, Tokyo-3, Japan
Briefing Room 12, Research Center

“Okay, Mana, Hikari,” Ritusko began as she addressed the potential candidates in the Briefing Room, “you two are the best suited candidates to operate the EVA unit under repairs.  Mana, I understand that you knew the previous pilot, didn’t you?”

The Marine, dressed in the tan pilot’s suit that was the norm for the US pilots, ran her hand through her mane of brown hair and sighed.  “Yeah, I knew Wendy, though I wouldn’t exactly call her a friend.  She was a shipmate, though, a real super trooper, even if she was a wingnut.”

Hikari looked at the American pilot.  “Um, what is a wingnut, Mana-san?” she asked, her English halting but still somewhat readable.

Mana gave her new teammate and rival a grin, the kind that slightly unnerved people.  “It’s what we call Air Force pilots.  Y’see, when you’re a Marine and as dumb as a post – or so the story goes – the term ‘Air Force pilot’ is difficult to say, much less spell.  And if you think that’s hard, we tend to fry our brains when it comes to ‘Naval Aviators’, so we don’t even bother with that one.”

Ritsuko rolled her eyes and sighed.   I really don’t need this.  “Now then, Mana, there’s a couple of things that I’m going to need to know, such as the schematics on how your pilot uniforms work with the EVA interface without the LCL and plugsuit environments that our pilots are used to,” she said, motioning to Hikari, who was sitting there in her yellow and white plugsuit.

“Yes, now that you mention it, I don’t see how that suit does the job – it looks like a regular pilot’s suit.  How does it interface with the EVA?” Hikari inquired.

“Well, Dr. Akagi, if you’ll refer to the technical layouts on our TCM biosuits, you’ll note that it does a similar job to your LCL and plug systems.  Though the biosuit and helmet closed circuit acts as a sort of neural interface for control of the EVA mecha, we don’t have the extra benefit that LCL provides, in that our systems rarely reach over 80% controlling accuracy, so it’s not like we can make them waltz or do the Charleston.  Conversely, though, the biosuit links prevent us from having the synaptic feedback problems that the LCL/plugsuit system is endemic in having.”

“Huh?”  The gist of the conversation went completely over Hikari’s head.

Ritsuko explained.  “It means that they don’t feel the level of shock one of our pilots would if they were hit,” Ritsuko clarified.

Mana nodded in affirmation.  “If you’ve got any questions regarding the system, I’m sure that Colonel Sanjipuran can explain,” she offered.  “Though he’s over at New Misawa AFB up north, he did work on the biosuit design.”

“I think I will,” Ritsuko answered.  “Dr. Sanjipuran is a very intelligent man.  But that’s enough for today’s briefing.  You two are dismissed for now.”

As the two girls walked out of the conference room, Hikari looked at Mana and asked, “So what do you feel like doing today, Mana-san?  No school today, so that’s a good thing.”

Mana nodded.  “I guess.  I don’t have to go to the same school as you, but then again, since the private tutor the embassy hired for me hasn’t arrived from the States yet, I’m off the hook at the moment.”  A grin crept up on her face, and she turned back to Hikari.  “So, once we get out of the monkey suits, where do you feel like going?”

“I was thinking that we could go get some lunch, onegai.  I’m rather hungry at the moment.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.  But after that, I want to get a workout in.  The Corps pay me to be here, so I gotta keep my shape up for the Corps, Hoo-ah!”  Turning in the hall and heading down another corridor to the pilot locker room, she then added, “Well, maybe after that I’ll have to meet my flight quals.  I do want to keep my flight pay going, y’know.  Maybe if I call New Atsugi, I can see if one of the squadrons there can loan me a 23 or a 331JSF to do the job.”  Her grin even larger now, she sounded like a kid in a candy store.  “Haven’t been behind the stick of a 331 before.  Might be fun.”

“Nani?  Flight pay?  You get paid to fly aircraft?”  Hikari was mortified at the thought, but the next logical step to that appalled her further: “Mana-san, you fly warplanes?  Why?”  Admittedly, while Hikari would love to get a chance to fly in a warplane, the fact that someone her age was already an accomplished fighter pilot disturbed her, especially in the light that Mana found the idea of it absolutely exhilarating.

The Marine looked at her NERV counterpart as though the answer was obvious.  “I love flying.  Besides, if I don’t make the grade as an EVA pilot, I do have to have some skills to present to the Corps once I complete college.  The Corps took in an orphan like me because of the potential I have as an EVA pilot candidate, but they made themselves into my family.

“General Van Horn saw that I got the best schools, that I had the finest training at the joint facility at NAVSTA J-Tree.  The General was the closest thing I had to a parent, but it was the whole of the Corps that rallied around me – Chesty the Bulldog never was the sort of Mascot for the Corps that I am.  But now, I’m growing up, and one way or another, I have to prove to the Marines that I’m worth everything they invested in me.”

Hikari didn’t understand that.  Mana was raised by a military organization?  She has no family?  Of course, that was something to bring up at another time, certainly under more comfortable conditions than these.  Nevertheless, there was still a question that Hikari could ask, especially since she was bewildered on that account.  “I understand, but to fly a warcraft?  Mana-san, aren’t you only fourteen?  Why would you be flying jet fighters at such a young age?”

Without looking at the other girl, Mana answered, “Simple: I love flying; always have, always will. But in a more practical sense, it gives me the skills that I can develop for working with something as complex as an Evangelion unit.  And, Hikari, if you think flying fighters at our age is bad, well, I hope you realize what the Evangelions are for, right?”

Hikari stopped in her tracks, Mana’s words scoring home.  She found that once she thought about it, she couldn’t answer Mana’s question fairly.  And if she could, then she had little right to criticize the other girl’s work ethic…and every reason to criticize her own.

At that point, Mana stopped in her tracks, as though something was up.  Hikari noted it instantly.  “Mana-san, something up?”

“Absolutely.  I just had a brilliant idea.  Hey, have you ever been in the pit before?”

“’The pit’?”

“I’ll take that as a no.  Let me make a few calls, and we’ll have something to do this afternoon.  I guarantee, it’ll be the most interesting time of your life, I promise you.”  A light twinkled in Mana’s eyes as she added, “If, of course, you live long enough.”

McClannehey Proving Grounds, Canada
Headquarters Building, Officer’s Lounge

“Hey, Kendra,” Misato said, “take a look at this.”  The two were taking a break in the O’Lounge, relaxing for a few before their next sparring session with the base command staff.  At the moment, Kendra’s JEDI unit was off, while Misato had her own SUGOI pad on standby.  When there was a significant change in the standardized data between the two PDAs, one or the other gave off an alert chime.

Kendra tapped on her JEDI unit and confirmed what Misato was seeing.  “Yeah, you’re right: EVA 04 is wildly off course, and no one’s bothering to correct.”  She tapped a couple of buttons on the palmtop computer as she asked, “You think that they found something?”

“They would have told us, Kendra,” Misato pointed out.  “Especially if it was something along the lines of Angels.”

“Point.  Well, why don’t we find out then?”  Slipping on her headset, she tapped active the comm channel.  “Spectra Pallet One, this is Spectra Prime.  Give me a status report.”  As Misato watched, the look on Kendra’s face went from normally confident, to unsure to completely bewildered.  And when she said, “Neither I nor Major Katsuragi issued that report.  Who authorized it?”, that didn’t help things, either.

The conversation continued on for several more heated minutes, as Misato caught a few flashes of insight here and there: EVA Unit 04 was ordered by someone using the Spec Prime callsign (and not one of them, either but an unidentified male) to head south to investigate an unknown reading.  While the other EVA Units were instructed to stay back and continue escorting the convoy, the selection of Unit 04 seemed rather odd.  Unit 02’s team seemed better equipped for handling it due to the unit’s agility and the pilots’ link; while 05, with Carter’s natural affinity for EVA piloting would have made for a good backup.  In any case, they would never send in an EVA solo in this situation, unless they had to.

So why was Unit 04 charging in alone, and who gave the order?

Misato slipped on her own headset.  “Spectra Chaser Bravo, this is Spectra Prism.   Give me a status report and give me one now, over.  There was nothing but silence on the other end, and the unit might have been turned off for all the lack of information it was giving.  “Spectra Chaser Bravo, this is Spectra Prism.  What is your status, over?”  Still there was no answer, and in a situation like this, simple system malfunctions couldn’t be blamed for it, no matter what.  Misato gave Kendra a look, the kind that both women hated to see much less give, but it was inevitable in their occupations: Something’s gone wrong.

Kendra hopped on it like there was no tomorrow.  Reaching for a nearby phone, punched in a quick set of numbers, reaching perimeter control for the base.  “I want the southern sentry post to give me a visual confirmation for Unit 04, and I need it immediately.”  There was a pause for a couple of minutes before she continued with, “What do you mean you can’t get a visual?  The trees in that area are transplanted sequoias?  Taller than the EVA unit?  Okay, thanks.”  All but punching the flash button on the phone, the Naval officer began to get a hold of the base CUNMIFDET, to see if someone had a satellite within visual range of the Unit.

Misato wasn’t going to wait that long.  “Spectra Pallet One, this is Major Katsuragi, Spectra Prism, Commanding.  I want EVA Unit 01 prepped for launch.  The other Units will continue onto their location, with Unit 02 providing backup for Unit 01.  Confirm launch status when ready.  Major Katsuragi, out.”  Turning to Kendra, she explained that “we need our easily mobile EVAs more than we do our tethered ones.  Call for some EW backup; I think we’re going to need it.”

“But both of the tethered units are yours, Misato.  And why are we going to need EeWee?”  When the Japanese woman gave Kendra a flat, unemotional stare, she knew that the other woman was doing what duty regrettably required of her.  “Right.”  Slipping on her JEDI’s commset, she tapped into the Cotter’s Pond TacNet.  “CotterCon, this is Lieutenant Chapel, US Joint Mech Strike Force.  I need you guys to provide us with EP and counter-EA capabilities, and I need it mobile.  I also need it in ten minutes, or else we could be having some serious problems.  Lieutenant Chapel, over.”  Ripping off the headphones, the redhead asked, “Okay, just what the hell’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but I know I don’t like it.  Things are too convenient.”

“Somehow, I don’t think there’s anything convenient about the fact that one of our EVA units has gone out into the great beyond.  But I’m curious: why are you sending one of the tether units out instead of one of our free-ranging units?  Wouldn’t one of my EVAs or your Unit 02 be more prepared for those sorts of actions?”

“Likely, but things could be much worse right now.  At least we don’t have a situation where the Angels are incoming.”  Misato sighed; why the hell did anything go wrong just when she thought things were turning around?  There were days when life just wasn’t fair, and then there were days like this, when she knew life really wasn’t fair.

“Well, if you feel that one of your tether boys can make it there and back on battery power, it’s all on you,” Kendra answered.  “In the meanwhile, I’m going to see if the Canadians have a helo on standby.  I think that we should go out there and find out for ourselves what the hell’s going on.”

Misato smiled at that; this girl thought right along the same lines.  This was looking to be a partnership that was going to work pretty damn good.  As Kendra cleared the room, pausing only to grab her JEDI unit, Misato stared at the small datafeed her SUGOI was giving her.  Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.  It felt like the time when she was on that French mecha, and the whole thing went wrong….

The whole thing went wrong.

Before she realized it, she was also heading out the door, trying to catch up to Kendra.  Back at the time of the Lancelot mecha, there was imminent chance of nuclear meltdown.  The US EVAs, save for one powered by the Studer unit, ran on the same rough power system.  Having a full-scale nuclear disaster in the middle of the world’s main N-2 weapons facility could be just as bad as any Angel strike right now, not to mention the global effect it would cause.

Raven picked up the other EVA on her sensors long before Rei requested she stop.  “Oh shit, it’s you.  What the fuck do you want, Ghost Girl?”

The answer came clearly on the line…or as clear as possible when dealing with Ayanami Rei.  <<i was told to give you backup.  spectra prime believes that something is going on.>>  The black and violet EVA quickly caught up to Raven’s silvery unit, and once in place, both behemoths continued their move.  <<we will have to be quick about this,>> Rei cautioned.  <<my unit only has limited power for this.>>

“Look, Casper, or whatever the hell your name is, if you’re that worthless in backup, go to idle power and standby.  I’ll go deal with whatever’s out there.  You can just stay as backup, and play statue until I return!”  Not wanting to hear a response from the freak that looked disturbingly like her, Raven moved forward, waiting for either the Japanese retard to fall in line or wait.  As her sensors indicated that Unit 01 chose to remain at its station and went to idle power, Raven favored herself with a small grin and moved on, trying to get some distance between her and the other EVA.

Steering her mecha towards a nearby line of trees, she was glad to be well away of her – for that matter, all of the EVAs.  As of late, staying away from everyone seemed like a wonderful idea, as everything she knew was in doubt lately.  Her best friend was thousands of miles away, she was stuck with people hostile to her or she didn’t know.  Nobody appreciated her style, which didn’t do much good anyways as it managed to have gotten the Mouse killed.

She was still mentally in this condition when she could that her EVA was showing more and more signs of some sort of an electromagnetic field that seemed to be dampening her systems.  Hitting the sensors for an analysis, she got nothing other than the fact that it was an EM anomaly.  While places like that existed, they were over oceanic territory; that is, stuff that had been underwater before the Second Impact, like the Bermuda or Golden Triangles, or the Sargasso Sea.  No place had been recorded since, and there was the possibility that since the Earth had shifted slightly on the axis due to the Second Impact, those magnetic zones also shifted.  There was also the chance that it was a trap, but that possibility was so remote, it was laughable.

As EVA Unit 04 lumbered into the clearing, there was at first an oddly quiet theme to the whole situation, as though the whole area had been laid out before her in complete pastoral.  It was far too quiet, that unnatural sort of quiet that only precipitates the coming of a situation.  Had Raven been more situationally aware of what was transpiring, she would have noticed that.  However, the wild child of the American EVA force was too self-absorbed at the moment to notice that the zone she was entering was entirely too quiet, and by the time she would notice, it would be too late.

From where he stood in the tree, Garuda noted the large silvery mecha clearing the nearest line of trees, about to walk into the kill zone.  Checking his weapon one final time, he wanted for the chance to do his job.  It didn’t matter that the person was American military or even that she was almost young enough to be his daughter, had he been less careful when he was younger.

For a minute, the man that few in the world knew about sighed.  There had been a time when he would have relished the opportunity to do something like this; it had been a childish dream, way back when the world was by far and away was thought to be completely off-base, tied up in humanity’s schemes.  Now, somehow this was all to make some sort of difference; that assassinating one of the pilots responsible for saving the world was likely going to aid in the protection of it as well.  Things were so much simpler when they were far too complicated to understand, he mused, fully aware of the irony in his thoughts.

At last the shaping steps of the EVA began to come closer, signaling that it was almost onsite.  Checking his PDA once more to see if the mines were ready, he moved slightly more into the growth of the tree; the better to be able to pick off the pilot interface when it came out of the Unit.  It certainly would, as that was one of the safety issues that were on the US models.

Garuda didn’t bother checking to see if his men were preparing, as he knew they were already.  They were handpicked professionals, many of whom worked for him throughout the years.  This team he had worked with in many cases, and some were even considered friends.  They knew the job; they’d do the job.

Wishing he could have one more cig, Garuda sat on the branch and waited for his moment.

Ramstein AFB, Kaiserslautern, Germany
Runway A

As the aircraft taxied onto the main tarmac, preparing for take off. Ikari Gendo, the man who was likely the most important person on earth at the moment, took a moment or two to take in all that was transpiring.  CAPT Ayers had thrown an unknown quantity into the situation, but that was nothing compared to what he now knew, the very information that SEELE was trying so hard to keep under wraps: that the Dead Sea Scrolls were now useless, the designs, patterns and hints in them absolutely unable to be relied upon for the upcoming conflicts ahead.

Taking a few minutes to read a recent report from a couple of his agents, it was almost amusing to see what was going on.  NERV was dancing a perilous ballet with SEELE over the situation, and now things could possibly be made worse as NATO – primarily the US, though the French were screaming the most – was looking to take a larger role in the whole battle for the sake of humanity.  If NATO got involved, at best it would be a factor halfway out of his hands; at worst, the domino that would get other national alliances, such as ASEAN, the OAS, the Pan-African Congress and the Realms of Islam into the mix, sowing total chaos.

That was something that ran contrary to all of his plans.  It was something that would not do at all; all of humanity rode on the crest of this battle against a nigh unbeatable foe, and if the nations of the world were to slip back into their old ways, they may as well have the UN sign the death certificate for all of Earth’s population.

Ikari Gendo had lived too long on the edge, sacrificed too much to see that happen.  He was not going to let it happen at all.

“Marshall Ikari?”  A voice spoke from the seat behind him, sonorous and beautiful in its tones.  Ikari turned around and faced a beauty of classic nature, the likes of which were rare in the best of times.  Appearing to be of Hindi ethnicity and wearing the uniform of a British Flight Officer, she smiled demurely and sat down in the seat across from him.  “You don’t know me sir, but my name is Flight Officer Indira Patel.  I’m with Royal Air Intelligence’s NERV complement, and I’ve just been assigned to be your personal attaché, sir.”

“By whose authority?” Gendo said, adjusting his glasses slightly.  Attaché, assistant, it all amounted to the same thing: someone wanted to keep an eye on him and what better way to do it than the cliché femme fatale in a uniform?

On cue, she laughed.  “I assure you, I know what you’re thinking, sir.  Let me make it perfectly clear and blunt, if I may be: the only way I’m opening my legs for you is if you interest me.  Frankly, I don’t know you well enough, and from what I know of your reputation, if I did, the only object you’d be putting there would be a knife.  No, I’m not here to be your whore, Ikari Gendo, not unless I choose to be.  I’m here to be your bodyguard.  We believe that someone may be about to take an unhealthy interest in you, and that’s something we can’t afford.”

“We?” Gendo asked, before clarity sank in.  “You’re not with the Royal Air Force, are you?”

Indira shook her head, her short hairstyle caressing her head, making her face look all the more sensuous.  “Au contraire, I am; I’m up for promotion in a month.  But I’m also what they call a double agent.  I work not only for the RAF, but also for a group named Equinox – a group you’ll be getting to know quite well in the future, Field Marshall Ikari.”

“Equinox?  The name sounds familiar,” he lied.  It was nothing that he was familiar with, but she’d already surprised him once; he would not appear to be so again.

To Indira’s credit, either she believed him or chose to go along with his commentary.  “There are two camps who believe that what NERV is doing will take the shape of the future.  We of Equinox believe that He Who Shapes the Future of Mankind will create for Himself a new world that will be better for mankind.  The other group, believes that they can wrest the same power from NERV at the expense of mankind.”

“So, how well-worked is Equinox?” Gendo added with a dissaffected tone.

“You’ll see.  Indeed, Gendo Ikari, you will see.”

Nothing further was said as the pair went to silence, both staring out the side windows as the NERV transport plane lifted off the black tarmac and began to race for the sky.  Angling towards the east, it would carry the NERV group back to Japan and a future that was still unclear to mankind, a future that had now become less clear as new groups began to come in from the fog of uncertainty. 

From his seat at the back of the plane, Futsuyuki watched.  As the second in command of NERV, it was his job to ensure that everything was running smoothly.  Watching the young British officer sit with Ikari, her eyes clearly showing a look of both interest and intrigue.  Apparently this officer was the very old fashioned type, the sort that thought that more…personal achievements…were the way to promotion.  Little chance it would do for her as the NERV liaison, but were she to catch Gendo’s attention, it would mean that she would a high-profile but vapid job here, a plum little mission there, and eventual climbing of the British rank ladder all without having to do the work…or even bother looking it.  Futsuyuki had to credit the girl that; she was at least devious.

Then they made eye contact from across the cabin of the plane just for the briefest of seconds, and a shower of icicles went down his spine.  There was something quite wrong in the way she looked at him, as though he were a piece of meat to be sacrificed, but he could discern no clear reason.

The one-time professor turned back to the book he’d been reading for the return flight to Japan.  It was better to focus on that right now, than to thing that something was amiss.  Something was amiss, he already knew that, but this was neither the time nor place to try to figure out exactly what the problem was.

The silvery EVA unit walked into the clearing, and the ground erupted in a blast of sparks.  Motes of electricity danced up and down the bodyframe of the metal homunculus.  Inside the mecha, powered equipment sizzled, smoked and sparked, then shut down; emergency lights kicked in seconds before shutting down as well.  Finally the cockpit pod went silent and dark, the perfect emulation of a tomb.

“What the hell?” Raven shouted, unable to believe this was happening.  “Spectra Prime, this is Spectra Chaser Delta.”  She sat there in the dark, waiting for a response on the comm unit, but there was no flicker of a video feed kicking in, nor even an audio channel being opened.  “Spectra Prime, this is Specta Chaser Delta.  Confirm receipt of transmission, over.”  Still there was nothing, so fingers flew over a small sheath, moved that.  A key was inserted, turned, and a dim luminescence came into the cockpit, signifying the ECLSS had just gone active.  If the system had kicked in, that meant that her EVA was completely and utterly DIW, and that of course meant that she wasn’t going anywhere until she was rescued.  Worse still, the way the EVAs were built, she would have to egress from her unit and use the Mobile STU-7 to contact base; use of the comm. function on her JEDI was clearly no good, as making an on-spot CASREP wasn’t something you could do on the clear.

Annoyed as hell at how things were going and swearing that she was going to have some words with her plane cap if it was something he hadn’t noticed, she plugged her JEDI into its cockpit linkup and began to enter the non-critical egress sequence.  That way if the problem could be fixed easily, she could resume functions without a problem, as opposed to the Zero-Zero ejection that the critical sequence provided.

From his perch, Garuda saw the slight movement on the EVA that indicated that the pilot was doing a non-emergency exit from her unit, as made sense under the circumstances.  Inwardly, he smiled; that would make the job easier for him to accomplish and in a strange sense would be less painful for the pilot, as the sheer amount of energy being thrown at her from the AT rifles would pretty much vaporize her body instantaneously.

Silently, he puched in the settings for the timer on the sniper scope display.  The scope would send the timer data to the scopes of his other men, allowing them to fire at precisely the same time for a perfectly coordinated strike.  Deciding that five seconds would be sufficient, he set the timer to ready, and a second button tap would activate it.  The weapons were hot, the target in place.  Now all that was left in the drama was for their ride to make ready.  Tapping a button a few times on the PDA that lay in front of him, he quickly sent a burst transmission message to the helo, telling him to be at the landing zone, a glade about 2 klicks away, in about fifteen minutes.  Though under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be considered the best of ideas, with the EVAs sensor suite down it wouldn’t be a problem.

Just a minute or two more, Garuda mused, and it’ll all be over for you.  Nothing personal, just business.

“Shinji,” Asuka said, ‘check this out.  I’m getting unusual signals from the sensor suite again.  It sounds…I don’t know, odd.”

Shinji didn’t turn around, but instead cocked his head in his girlfriend/co-pilot’s direction.  “Okay, what’s the computer say?”

“Says it’s a burst transmission.  Not comms, but some kind of signal.”  Asuka tapped away, and a second later the strange chattering signal poured out of the speakers, filling the plug with strange sounds that neither had ever heard before.

“Sounds, I dunno, maybe like some sort of secret code?” Shinji offered, obviously not knowing what it might be.

“No, I don’t think it’s that.  Seems garbled, more than encrypted, if you ask me.  Well, we are in the forest, maybe there are some hunters using homemade crypband to talk to each other?”

“I don’t recall anything like that here.  Maybe we should pass it on to Misato to see if she’s familiar with it?”

“Sounds reasonable.  Go ahead and run it through the crypto system to see if it can be deciphered, just in case, while we send the signal up to Misato and LT Chapel for further results.”  While Asuka began the process from her station, Shinji idly wondered in the private part of his mind what the thing could be.  Surely there would be no need for crypto signals from anything other than military units in the area, but as far as Shinji knew, only the EVAs and related units were operating today.  Maybe it was Canadian SOF teams, practicing sneaking around in the forest below?  He didn’t have an answer for that.

Neither do I, Asuka mentally replied a couple of moments later, sending him feelings of affection along with her opinions.

“Look, I understand that this is short notice,” Misato explained to the flight line officer, “but I’ve got a problem out there with the EVAs and LT Chapel and I have to get out there as soon as possible.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Major,” the line officer, a RCAF Flight Lt., countered.  “There’s been a TACAIR suppression on all aircraft in the area due to the Evangelions coming in.  If I put a chopper in the air right now, fighters from Cotter’s Pond and the nearest American airbase are going to be on the item like stink on…..”  The man coughed, politely disengaging from such talk in front of women and fellow officers.  “Regardless, it’s going to take time to clear our helipad to be a recognized launchpoint in CotterCon airspace.”

“Look, tell me what you need,” Misato answered.  “I can have whatever you need done in five seconds flat.  You just get the fastest rotor you’ve got and I’ll have your clearance information ready before your flyboy even finishes zipping up his suit, ne?”  When the Flight Lt. Looked doubtful, Misato threw in with her extra ammunition.  “Look, my people are having difficulties out there, one that might be big enough to half the usage of one or more of the Japanese and US EVAs.  If that happens, then our forces won’t be as effective when the angels arrive.  I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

That did the trick.  A bit shaken at the prospect, the man blanched slightly and said, “I’ll get right on it, Major.  Just get me that clearance.”

Clearly  glad to have won a round, Misato turned towards her counterpart with the smile of the cat that ate the canary.  “See?  Just goes to show you that you gotta teach them who’s boss.”  Her words were met with silence, and when Misato made to ask Kendra what was up, she saw the American Navy officer furiously punching new commands into her JEDI.  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small tab, putting it into a slot on the back of the datapad.

“Hey, what’s that?” Misato asked, curious.

“NOFORN data, sorry,” Kendra muttered, continuing to punch away, without even looking at the NERV major.  She made two more button taps, and her JEDI chirped once.  Kendra looked once at Misato, then back at the data.  She then looked at Misato, and that look carried an emotion that Misato was entirely all too familiar with.

“Kendra, what’s go—“ she asked, but was immediately cut off as Kendra, NOFORN rules be damned at the moment, shoved her datapad into Misato’s hands and fished into her pocket for her STU-7 cellphone.  “Get that Flight Lt and tell him to start warming up an attack chopper now!”  Opening the phone, she punched in a quick code and shouted, “All Units, this is Spectra Prime.  This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill.  General Quarters, all hands man your battle stations!  All EVA Units are to proceed to the vicinity of EVA Units 01 and 04 immediately.  All weapons are hot and free, repeat, all weapons are hot and free, and you may engage at will!  Authorization code is Tango-Hotel-Xray-One-One-Two-Four.  Move it now!”  Closing down the phone, Kendra grabbed Misato and said, “C’mon, let’s get going!”

“Just what the hell is going on?” Misato yelped, hating to be behind the power curve.  “You’d better have a damn good reason for declaring a battlezone in Canadian territory, and not even a Blue Pattern condition, either!”

“Dammit, didn’t you look at the pad?” Kendra seethed, running now towards the nearest chopper, a CRA HFT-335 Monolith, and flagging down several security personnel on the flightline to get over here right now, because that was an order, dammit!  “Raven and your pilot are in trouble!”

That got Misato’s attention.  Looking down at the JEDI pad in her hands, she read the screen, and her heart suddenly got caught in a crushing, frozen grip:

“Okay, cue me in as to what’s going on; I seem to have missed a few things!” Misato screamed as she climbed into the passenger area of the Monolith.

“Okay, take this into account,” Kendra shouted back, holding up fingers for emphasis: “One – as you just read, that signal read that Raven is about to be assassinated, and that your pilot – Rei – could also be in danger.  This information was sent to me by EVA Unit 02, so the information has to be assumed to be legit.  Two – that code was KYT-338 encryption.  It’s the latest in 2 Mbit encryption data, and it’s a French baby.”

“French?”

“Yeah.  It was created at the French Foreign Legion base in Cairo about two years before the Second Impact.  As far as NATO’s aware, no one’s broken it yet.  It’s like the JGSDF’s Shokoda standard or our own STU-7.  It’s going to take a serious buttload of computer processing to crack it, and no one, save for the spookhouses, have the capability.”  Kendra looked straight at Misato, and there was anger in her eyes, the sort of anger a senior officer has when helpless.  “Think about it: what would piss the French off?”

The violet-maned woman didn’t even have to think for a second.  “The Lancelots.  They’re pissed that no one is taking them seriously, while the EVAs get all the credit and the Robotech system is considered the Evangelion Project’s only serious competitor,” she commented as she strapped herself into the seat.  “The fact that their test model melted down on Corsica and caused widespread damage didn’t help their cause either.”

“Absolutely correct.  INTEL was saying the other day that France is considering withdrawing from NATO again in order to pursue the Lancelot program on their own.  They’re sure that it’s mankind’s future.”  Strapped in as well, Kendra took her JEDI from Misato and began to check data again.  “But even still, it makes me wonder: the French aren’t stupid.  They’re not going to pull off something like this.  That’s just too insane.”

“Pissed off people do stupid things,” the NERV officer pointed out, “especially when something like national pride is at stake.  The Lancelots take up a pretty sizeable section of both France’s budget and national pride.”

“C’mon, they can’t be that stupid.  Engaging in the assassination of someone trained to protect the world?  Even they wouldn’t want to piss anyone off like that, lest they be left to fend for themselves should an Angel attack happen there.  No, as much as the evidence points to the contrary, I have a funny feeling that they’re being set up on this, or at the very least are circumstantials in this situation.”

“No,” Kendra concluded as the chopper took to the skies, “I think it’s a setup.  And I want to know why.”  Finishing that line of conversation, she turned and shouted out to the pilot, “Hey, have you established comms yet?”

“No, ma’am,” the pilot, a warrant officer, shouted back.  “You’re not going to like this, but I think we’re being jammed.  Someone planned this thing out well in advance, and your pilots are in real, real trouble.”  Nothing more to add, he dipped the control stick forward and the helo took off, racing towards its mission at best possible speed.  Either they would get there in time to do something about the situation at hand, or there would be serious consequences, ones that could spell the end for mankind.

In his station in EVA 05, Carter called for rebroadcast of orders.  He thought he heard something, but the communiqué dropped out nearly instantly.  “Spectra Prime, this is Spectra Chaser Echo.  Repeat your last.  I say again, repeat your last, over.”  When no answer came, he called out, “Spectra Chaser Echo to any Chaser unit.  Can you hear me, over?”

A few seconds passed before Carter thought, Okay, something is very wrong here.  “Spectra Chaser Echo to any Spectra Unit, can you read me, over?”  When that didn’t work, he switched over to a different comm channel.  “Any military unit on this channel, this is US EVA Unit 05.  Can anyone hear me?”  However the radio remained silent, with not a single sound coming out of it save for the soft internal chirp that stated the line was still active.

I don’t like this at all.  He didn’t like the feeling of being cut off from everyone.  It reminded him too much of when he was a child, when he remembered his mother and father being—  He shut his eyes for a second to ward away the recurring nightmare, the Kafkan horror in his min that always ended the same ominous way….

Have to find one of the others.  Have to find out where they are, or else we could be in real trouble.  It was an odd thought, considering that the convoy was moving beside him at a simple, almost leisurely pace.  By no indications was there even a hint of anything being remotely wrong, everything was running smoothly.

So why do I feel like the crap’s about to hit the fan?

On cue, the spinal tube moved out of the unit slightly, allowing for Raven to scramble out of the cockpit.  Removing her helmet, she threw it back into the EVA, glad to be breathing the unfiltered air of the beautiful blue sky instead of that of the EVA’s habitability systems.  Though she wasn’t normally inclined to enjoy nature for itself, today she wasn’t going to bitch about it.

Taking a second to look down at the ground, she couldn’t see any reason offhand why her silvery mech suddenly stopped.  At least the nuclear protocols had kicked in and there was no chance of a meltdown or worse – she shivered at the thought of what the final fate was of the French pilot of that Lancelot mech that had gone wrong; in a world that had less surface area overall, what remained of Corsica would never be suitable for life again.

Well, enough of the communing with the flowers and the trees, she thought.  Pulling out a small cellphone-like device, she punched in a code on her mobile STU-7 and began.  “Spectra Prime, this is Sparkle Dancer One, over.”  Raven mentally derided whoever decided to use “Sparkle Dancer” to signify any downed unit; why did the name sound like something out of one of those Japanese magical girl shows?  “Request extraction of myself and my unit as soon as, current posit is—“  She spat out her current coordinates.  “First guy who gets here gets the beer.  Sparkle Dancer One, out.”  She didn’t bother to wait for an acknowledgement; as pricy and important as the EVA was, they’d have someone here in no time flat.

Stretching to get the kinks out, she dropped the STU-7, the black phone falling right before her feet.  “Heh, butterfingers,” she muttered, and bent down to get the unit.

Garuda smiled.  Such a pretty girl the pilot was, and clearly had the very qualities that the American military liked so much in their troops.

It was such a shame he was going to have to blow off her pretty little head, but as he said a thousand times, it wasn’t personal, and if he had his way, she wouldn’t even be in this mess.  But such was the nature of their jobs: she was trained to protect the Earth from the Angels; his job was to protect the interests of his employer.  A delicious irony, that.

He tapped the button on his scope, setting off the timer.  5…4…3…2…1…

As she sat with her EVA powered on standby, Rei closed her eyes and meditated.  Not exactly relaxing or looking for inner peace, she was recalling the time before.  The time when she and her sisters were together, a period closest to when she knew anything approaching pure bliss.

--rei--

“hello?  who's there?” she asked, wondering why communications protocol was breached.

--rei--

Rei reached out to hit the communications panel and see what was wrong…and felt nothing.  Knowing something was out of place, she opened her eyes…

…and found herself floating in a sea of stars.  She wore nothing, and all around her, yet very distant from her, was the rest of her sisters, the other Reis that had yet to be.  As the foremost amongst them, the currently most developed of them, it was her personal responsibility to share as much of life as she could with them.  Most of them might not ever see life other than in the chemical womb they all originated from.  After all, the first two Reis had done the same for her, and though she’d taken the place of her older sisters, it was her duty now to be the—

“Teacher.”  The voice spoke directly from behind her, and as Rei turned around, she came face to face with herself.  Or one of the others.  Save that this Rei was older, clearly an adult.  She also was as lacking in clothing as Rei was, and wore only an angelic, serene smile.  “You are Four.  You have come after One, Two, and Three.”

Rei tilted her head at that in incomprehension; as far as she knew, she had always been designated REI III.  “you must be mistaken,” she spoke.  “i am rei III.  i was the third to be released in the sequence.”

“Rei,” the Older Rei asked, “Do you remember your mother?”

Rei shook her head.  “i have no mother, save for myself.  i am my own mother, and the mother to my sisters, as we are all ourselves.”

“No, you are more than that,” Older Rei intoned.  “Soon, you must discover that.  You have so much more than you’re aware of, Rei; more avenues are open to you than you see.”

“i do not understand.”  It took a second for a possibility to dawn on her.  “do you mean that the american, ayers, is the third?”