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But Loyal to Their Own, Chapter 6- Learn and Live RSS Feed for Chapter 6- Learn and Live
By Tabasco
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August 25, 2008
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Series: Evangelion and Full Metal Panic (Crossover)
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              //Pat Benatar 'Invincible' _Greatest Hits_//

                   Furry Pigeon Productions presents:

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

           Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
           Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
              Han Fei and Samuel Roberts copyright the author
             All characters as always used without permission

Chapter 6:  Learn and Live

The wingman is absolutely indispensable...The wingman knows what his
responsibilities are, and knows what mine are. Wars are not won by
individuals. They're won by teams.
— Lt. Col. Francis S. "Gabby" Gabreski, USAF, 28 victories in WWII and
6.5 in Korea.

Nerv HQ
September 14, 2015
8:00AM Local Time

      Misato stood in the foyer of Nerv's apartment complex, savoring the
coolness the underground structure retained in spite of the surface's
summer heat.

      The group training sessions seemed to have facilitated what she
began Saturday, giving the kids a chance to bond.  Even Rei had participated
in the 'shop talk' parts, and observed the rest with at least mild
interest.

    Unfortunately, the Major's cynical streak insisted on reminded her,
dealing with the devil you knew about generally meant one you didn't was
sneaking up on you.

    'Probably half of a small unit leader's job is personality
management,' Misato reflected as the first of the pilots arrived from
upstairs. That was a lesson she'd had hammered into her by superiors who
understood the point, and perhaps even more so by the somewhat smaller
number who didn't.  Right now, the ringmaster of this circus suspected
balancing the personalities in this crew would test the Buddha.

      "Morning, Asuka."

      Case in point.  Asuka was much as Misato remembered: brilliant,
opinionated, aggressive, and proud.  All excellent qualities, but her
'it's not bragging if you're really that good' attitude had already
rubbed some of the other pilots the wrong way.  Additionally, Misato
would have had to be blind to miss the auburn haired pilot's jealousy
not only of Shinji's accomplishments, but also Rei's.  No doubt the other
pilots had taken notice of that jealousy as well.

      "Morning, Major,"  Asuka greeted sleepily, dressed in the white
and blue ensemble of her school uniform.  She looked all set for her
first day of classes, and -that- particular line item on the agenda had
almost started a one girl riot.

      To be fair, the idea of a girl with a biology degree retaking
middle school sounded a little nuts.  Sadly for one thoroughly overqualified
Child, the school was the best place they had for stress relief.  It seemed
to have helped Shinji, anyway.  The Ops director had no intention of telling
them so, but 'don't flunk' was all she really expected scholastically. 
More than that was pure fantasy, given the slapdash language instruction
the newer non-Japanese pilots had gotten.

      "Better get some coffee, you've got quite a day ahead,"  Misato
smiled sympathetically at her once and current protege.  Asuka had always
had a 'love to hate' relationship with mornings, even as one of her
students in Munich.

      Asuka's face scrunched in disgust.  "Blech.  Not on your life."
She folded her arms and started tapping her foot. "What are they doing,
necking?  We've got places to be!"

      Misato frowned in response to the catty remark.  Not so much at the
thought of 'extracurricular activities' which, unless the other pilots were
quiet as the grave, would've been noticed, but at the reminder of the less
obvious devil she'd been contemplating.

      The quiet scrape of tennis shoes on the concrete steps a moment
later signaled the approach of the next arrivals.  Superficially, the two
could be a contrast study.  Han was perhaps Misato's height, stocky and
solidly built.  Even tempered, polite, tactful, and possessed of a dry and
sarcastic wit, he reminded her Misato too much of Ritsuko for her peace
of mind.  Nami, on the other hand, was a fifty kilo fireball in a forty
kilo frame. 'Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!' defined her general
approach, followed closely by 'leap before you look.'

      'Heh, I can relate,' Misato chuckled to herself as they arrived.

       Which was why she understood what had utterly baffled their
trainer, how the two had managed to stay together past the first week. 
It was simple, they needed each other, and that added yet another
complication to a situation already as convoluted as a noodle platter.
The one thing she absolutely could -not- afford was to allow any internal
divisions between the pilots to cement.

      No matter how cute they were, she simply couldn't keep the couple
together once the rotation was set up.

      Which left the Jokers in this deck of cards.  Understandably, neither
Roberts nor Testarossa had managed to come Saturday, so she hadn't had a
chance to observe them under natural conditions.  Fortunately, all reports
stated emphatically they were unlikely to progress beyond a fairly close,
though often exasperated, friendship.  Which should vastly simplify Misato's
life, as it was she was seriously considering detailing Sgt. Jongkyu from
his usual job of securing the apartment complex for help keeping tabs on
her suddenly expanded tribe.

      "Well, hell," Misato sighed softly. "If it was easy anyone could do
it."

----------

      It said something about how far she'd come in improving her
coordination, Tessa reflected ruefully, that Sam no longer felt the need
to keep his left arm free and hover behind her every time she used a
staircase.  If her frighteningly inept first attempts at controlling an
Eva simulation hadn't clued him in to her lack of motor skills, the
first time he'd had to make a grab for her after a near tumble down a
flight of stairs had -certainly- driven the point home.

      'I don't care if my braid -was- the only handhold he could get,
it hurt!' she fumed, unconsciously running a hand down its ash blonde
length.  An impish grin threatened to break through her annoyance
as Tessa recalled his reaction to her fear and embarassment fueled tirade
immediately afterwards.  Sam's outraged retort that next time he'd -let-
her go down the stairs 'ass over teakettle' had been followed by the
appearance of a gym mat at the bottom of those stairs the next morning.

      The low hum of the Nerv van's electric motor filled the interior with
white noise, inducing an occasional yawn from its passengers.  Nami was
paying her seatmate, Asuka, no attention whatsoever.  She was much more
interested in getting the best view of the city that would be their new
home. 

    From her seat behind and between the two, Tessa could see that
while the German girl returned the favor of benign neglect for now, an
increasingly nettled expression suggested she would shortly be overwhelmed
by the need to refocus attention on her.

      "There's no way we can get to the geofront in time to repel an
attack if school's this far away,"  Asuka complained to Misato.  Tessa
settled the bet she'd made with herself with an inner smirk.

      Misato replied without turning to face her questioner. "We'll keep
half of you on base at a time and switch out periodically, but we're
still working out a schedule that'll be fair for everyone.  For the time
being you'll stay at school during the day and come in on weekday evenings."
Only then did she turned to sweep her gaze over the passenger cabin.
"Understood?"

      The pilots nodded, however grudgingly.  Tessa turned away from the
scene. Shinji, Rei, and their guards had already arrived at the school,
there being no reason to drive them to the geofront, pick up the new
arrivals, and drive all the way back.  Han had sat beside her and
continued their discussion from yesterday on tips for integrating into
the Japanese school system.  As the only one of the group with direct
experience she'd been, God help them all, the expert, the negativity of
her experiences notwithstanding.  Sam, for his part, had sprawled on the
last row of seats and lapsed into uncharacteristicly gloomy silence.  Tessa
felt a stab of pity for her friend.  She'd gotten used to changing schools
and losing friends long ago, as a result of her father's Navy career.  Sam,
on the other hand, had kept the same companions from early elementary
school, and leaving them behind had hurt him deeply.

    And of course, the dumb jerk wouldn't say anything except 'I'm fine.'
and laugh it off, or change the subject with all the grace of an intoxicated
water buffalo.  Something was going to have to be done if this kept up...
 
    The van braked to a stop, terminating her considerations.  Their
destination, North Tokyo-3 Municipal Junior High, was a nondescript two
story structure.  Built in several wings connected by open air walkways,
several well tended trees peeked over the retaining wall, matched by
manicured patches of grass amid the sidewalks and bike racks. 

      She fell in with the rest of the new arrivals behind Misato as
the Major led the way onto the school grounds.  Upon arriving at the
Principal's office, the secretary duly signed them in, issued their school
laptops, and delivered a quick and obviously well-worn welcome speech
before ushering the group right back out. 

    And all in under ten minutes, that's what Tessa called -efficiency.-

      "Ok then," Misato addressed them once they'd assembled outside the
office.  "Your printouts have the details, but in short you're in class
2-A with Shinji, Rei, Sousuke and Mana, so there'll be some familiar faces. 
Just follow their lead."

    "All of us?"  Sam asked after catching her attention.

    "Of course, surely you didn't think we'd throw you in at the deep
end?"

    "Well..."

    "We're not -that- cruel, now go on, have fun!"  Misato departed with
a cheerful wave.

    Asuka directed a venomous glare at their CO's retreating back. 
Only after Misato had rounded a corner did she turn to the others, snapping
"Let's get this over with."

----------

      Kaname Chidori sighed, twisting one strand of her shoulder length
hair through her fingers.  The classroom buzzed with its usual morning
chat sessions.  Aida and Suzuhara were both over by Ikari's desk, Toji
illustrating a tale with expansive arm gestures while the other boys
chuckled.  Meanwhile, the class president was splitting her attention
between listening to the gossip Kongo and Izuma were sharing and scanning
the classroom for troublemakers.  Her eyes lingered on Kaname's before
moving on. 

    Kaname frowned to herself.  She wasn't deaf to the reputation she'd
acquired over the year since her arrival.  And, in her more introspective
moments, she admitted there was a lot of truth to the tag 'prettiest girl
you'd never date.' 

    Though born in Japan, she'd spent most of her life in the reclaimed
New York City, where her father worked in the UN branch office.  The upside
of this was she spoke English like a native.  The downside was she had
the -mindset- of a native.  With a vocabulary to match.  Perhaps inevitably,
she'd had considerable trouble from her new classmates due to her rusty
manners.  Not to mention her pronounced tendency to speak her mind with
minimal delicacy. 

    "To hell with them," Kaname muttered.  On days like this she was
almost glad to live alone, it meant no one was around to ruin a really
good sulk.  A swell in the chatter around her pulled her attention back
into the real world.

    "New students?" the...high spirited girl asked the short haired
brunette, Chikuma, next to her.

    "Yeah, five of them, transferring in all at once."

    "Hmmm." Kaname ran a finger across her desk in thought.  Given the
last 'transfer student' they'd gotten...

----------
      
    Five agitated teenagers waited outside a classroom door.  While the
amounts varied, the feelings present did not, running the gamut from the
'butterfly effect' from meeting new people, to frustration at orders to
remain inconspicuous in a class that had more than met its mysterious
transfer student quota, to the hopeful curiosity of making a fresh start. 

    Or venting frustration at the whole process.

      "Why are we even here?" Asuka muttered. "Some of us at least are
trained professionals with better uses for our time.  There are three Evas
to be tested, and a dozen weapons and add on modules to check out on.
Hell, we still don't even know where we live yet!"

    Nami traded a glance with her countryman/boyfriend/partner, not
necessarily in that order, the gist of the message being: You deal with
her, I'm no good at pouring oil on the waters.
   
    "They probably want us out of their hair so everything will be ready
when we go in this afternoon,"  Han suggested to the fuming redhead. 
   
    An indistinct grumble was her sole reply, but the prospect of future
Nerv-related activities seemed to have defused the tempestuous pilot. 

    "Nice job," Nami whispered to him.

    Han faced straight ahead, but an eye swiveled to catch hers. "I've
had lots of practice lately," he commented in a suspiciously neutral tone.

    He got some odd looks from the others at his sudden yelp, but his
girlfriend's look of outraged chagrin was well worth it.

    The teacher's voice through the door came as a relief. "Before we
begin today's lesson, we should welcome several new arrivals, who will be
joining us for the remainder of the year."  As he was about to call them
in an exclamation echoed across the room.

    "They're PILOTS?!"
    
     Tessa closed her eyes in psychic pain.  Meanwhile, Sam turned an
intriguing shade of puce trying not to exercise the...extensive...
vocabulary they'd been exposed to by Sgt. Major Mao. 

      "I -thought- things were going too smoothly," she muttered. "SNAFU?" 
she queried Sam once he'd returned from his happy place, using the ancient
shorthand for 'Situation Normal: All Fucked Up.'

      "SNAFU," he agreed with a long suffering sigh. 

    In contrast, Asuka's mood had improved markedly.  True, she was
still stuck in daycare, but at least she could talk about her -real- job
now.  Not ideal, but a nice consolation prize.  When the teacher finally
restored order and signaled them to enter before further mishap could occur,
her triumphant smile led the way. 


Nerv HQ
Same Time
                   
    Deep below and kilometers away, an angry tapping echoed through the
steel lined corridors.  Striding ahead on a three part mission, Misato
Katsuragi loosely held a manila folder of design briefs, her ostensible
excuse for dropping in on R&D. 

    Part one had been accomplished a few minutes ago.  Ritsuko had been
non-committal about the data, but agreed to look into it further.  Part
two was a rousing success.  The imported, hazelnut flavored coffee she'd
shamelessly helped herself to worked its magic far more swiftly and
gracefully than the freeze-dried pretender Ops brewed.  Leaving Part Three,
whose objective was currently approaching the turn towards the vending
machines down two levels from the bridge. 

    The target's destination was indeed the vending machines.  The Major
slowed and ghosted along behind.

----------
 
    Ryoji Kaji was rummaging in his pocket for change when a  familiar
voice harshly inquired "And just what the hell are -you- doing here?"

    'Delivering an artifact of incalculable value and power to a man of
dubious ethics,' the carefully buried whimsical streak of Ryoji's
personality suggested.  "Just making a quick pit stop, Katsuragi.  Nice
to see you too, by the way," was his saner reply.

    Misato was unmoved by his flippancy.  "Try again."

    "Well, I -was- here to deliver Asuka and Eva-02," he replied lightly.

    Misato's cold, hostile expression thawed immediately. "Ah excellent,
you're on your way to the airport.  So sorry to keep you then, have a
lovely flight, and..."

    "But..." the syllable froze her rapid-fire goodbye in its tracks.
"I've gotten tired of Germany, so I'm planning to transfer here for a while."

    A lesser man would've laughed at the way the forced politeness was
-sucked- from Misato's demeanor.  Fortunately for his health, he restricted
himself to a wry smirk.  In truth, he'd been fairly happy in Nerv-Germany. 
But, duty called, and as usual it did so 'collect'. 

    It could be said that Project E was fairly low profile, in the same
way a stealth bomber was fairly hard to spot.  Until recently Nerv itself
had been 'famous', inaccurate as the term was, more for developing the 7th
generation bioelectronic architecture than for their forays into exotic
materials and robotics.  That changed with dramatic debut of their real
project. The Evangelion's unveiling had thrown the governments of the major
powers into near panic.  Marching orders had gone out, and every
intelligence agency worthy of the name focused its attention on the
previously little known organization.

    And overnight Ryoji Kaji had gone from relatively minor agent in
the Japanese Ministry of the Interior to one who's dispatches were read
by the Prime Minister himself.  With the wartime shift in Nerv's center of
gravity to Tokyo-3, it only made sense to move Ryoji as well.  Transferring
his recently acquired guardianship of the Second Child was as plausible a
reason to do so as any to -get- here.  However, changing assignments on a
-permanent- basis without attracting excess suspicion would require something
more.

    "So what do you say to a few drinks now that the old crew's back
together?  Ritsuko's game, can we expect you too?"

    Misato's lips thinned to a hard, white line.  Though nearly a head
shorter than he, she still managed a respectable looming presence as she
replied "Kaji, you can take your offer, wad it up into a little ball, and
shove it up your ass.  Goodbye."

    Ryoji tracked her, ample, retreating figure until she passed out of
sight, and sighed while running a hand through his disordered hair.

    "Well, you have to start somewhere."


North Municipal Junior High
12:30PM Local Time

    Kaname tapped impatiently at the side of her laptop as she watched
the clock creep through the final, agonizingly slow minutes between
them and lunch's brief freedom.  The math teacher was finishing
up his lecture on binomials, and students were beginning to put their
computers into standby for the break. 

    From her seat in the back third of the classroom, she could see
some of the new arrivals scattered through the room. 

    The first foreigner to introduce himself, Roberts, looked a little
like a deer in the headlights, Kaname noted without surprise.  She'd felt
the same when she moved to a new country with only a little of the language. 
From his and the two Chinese pilot's introductions, she'd guess they could
conduct simple conversations, but that was about it.  Concentrated classwork
was probably overwhelming, but at least they had native and/or fluent
speakers to help them.

    The other American, Testarossa, had settled right in.  The pilot
was closer to cute than sexy in Kaname's opinion, but her silvery
hair and gray eyes made her as exotic as the other western girl.  One of
the two new pilots fluent in Japanese, she had made a decent first
impression, answering the questions she could with friendliness and
apparent honesty and politely refusing those she couldn't.

    Soryu-Langley had seemed as serenely unconcerned by the lustful
stares she'd gotten from the boys as she had the jealous glares from a
solid majority of the girls on entering the room.  Matching auburn hair
and blue eyes to a shapely figure, she could have walked off the pages of
a boy's manga.  Flamboyant and outgoing, the foreign beauty had shown
confidence and panache fielding questions directed at her, including the
inevitable 'are you single?'

    'The odd couple,' as Kaname found herself calling the Chinese pilots,
had seemed good natured and, as far as she could tell, honestly committed
to helping defend them.  Which was commendable given the bad blood between
their two countries.  Kaname liked to keep an eye on the news, and recent
incidents between the People's Liberation Army Navy and the Maritime
Self-Defense Force had been very well publicized.  No shots had been fired,
but many analysts were convinced it was only a matter of time...

      Shaking off the gloomy thought, she returned to the here and now.
'I predict several rashes of love letters in the near future,' Kaname
decided with mixed resignation and amusement.  Ayanami's arrival had
triggered one, and so had her's.  It was practically a tradition by now.   

    Finally, the bell rang for lunch, prompting Horaki to dismiss them. 
As Kaname rummaged in her bag, she heard Fei muttering behind her in an
odd flavor of English. 

    "Would you stop it?" she asked testily in the same language.

    "What?" Han looked up in confusion. "Oh, sorry, have I been talking
out loud?"

    "Yes,"  Kaname snapped, facing forwards again.

    "I believe I understand why you are here and not over there." Kaname
jumped, twisting back around in time to see Nami jerk her head in the
direction of the crowd surrounding Asuka and the smaller knot around the
Americans.  The pilot sat in the desk across from them and handed Han his
lunch.  "Now then," she continued, in the near-comically formal Japanese
they'd been taught, "are you an outcast by choice or do you merely have
a bad personality?"

    Kaname's cheeks flushed in rage.  "Excuse me!  Who the -hell- are
you to say that!" She snorted derisively. "It's not like you're swimming
in admirers either!"

    "Our countries have nearly come to war twice since we were born.  I
would be astonished if there were not a connection there." Han shrugged,
unconcerned. "Conversing with the Big Bad Wolf is not a popular pastime."

    "But we were talking about -your- problems," Nami interjected,
smoothly taking the lead again.  This conversation was beginning to remind
Kaname of watching a tennis match, crick in the neck included.
   
    "And what exactly makes them any of your business?" Kaname snarled,
turning away again.

    "Nothing." Nami started packing up the few items removed from her
box.  "Come on, Shinji mentioned the roof was nice this time of day,"
she spoke to Han as he followed suit.

    Kaname closed her eyes and ground her teeth in frustration, mostly
at herself.  This could have been a replay of any of a dozen incidents
since she'd arrived at this damned school.  And every time, she'd driven
away anyone who'd shown the slightest interest in her. 

    At first, she had told herself that even if her father had washed
his hands of her, she still had her sister, Ayame.  What could Kaname need
from others, people who would only offer the same lack of understanding
cloaked in false sympathy she'd grown so sick of?  Later, as the initial
searing loss had faded, and the scars began to form, the still wounded
girl decided she didn't need anyone else anyway.  She could stand on her
own feet and make her own path, rules be damned! 

    And now what was it? 

    'I'm sick of this,' Kaname admitted at last.  'Sick of my only
conversation longer than two sentences happening three times a week like
clockwork when I call Ayame.  Sick of my only company on a Friday night
being my pet hamster.  And most of all, I'm sick of the only people who
even remotely care living fifteen thousand kilometers away.' She relaxed
the fist she'd clenched under her desk and spoke.

    "Wait." Kaname turned to face the departing pilots. "Look, I'm
sorry.  I'm not used to strangers asking, rudely," pride forced her
to add, "about my problems, but that's no excuse to take it out on you. 
Please accept my apologies."

    Han nodded.  "Gladly.  Though we still intend to go upstairs, you
are welcome to join us."

----------

    Shinji leaned back against the railing surrounding the rooftop and
savored the breeze.  To either side of him Kensuke and Toji did the same,
the former unwrapping his lunch from home and the latter doing the same
to his own purchased from the cafeteria. 

    "This sucks!"  Kensuke lamented to the uncaring heavens.  "Is it
not enough to have beauties like Misato, and Rei, -and- a tomboy hottie
like Mana?  Must he now he get three more?!  Is this justice, I ask you?!"

    Shinji, with great difficulty, suppressed the desire to strangle
his friend and wearily replied "I told you, it's not like that.  And
besides, only two of them are 'available' anyway."

    Toji frowned thoughtfully. "Huh.  Well that makes sense, those two
do go together."

    "Yeah, I guess,"  Shinji sighed the sigh of the unhappily single. 

    "Ah, cheer up.  That Chinese girl looks like fun, if you need a
break from your other girls,"  Toji grinned, a gleam of mischief in his
eyes at seeing Shinji's twitch.

    And -another- fantasy strangling, this was becoming a habit..."Wait. 
What?"

    "Those two Americans.  They're together."  Toji answered calmly,
taking a bite from his tray.

    "Um, no..." Shinji replied slowly, staring at his friend in blank
incredulity.

    "No way, they totally are."

    "No, they're not."

    "How do you know?"  Toji paused, and noticed the other boys'
expressions. "Ok, stupid question.  Still."

    "They said so."

    "Both of them?" Kensuke asked hopefully.

    "Yes,"  Shinji answered with a sidelong look.

    "Sweet!"

    "And another unhealthy obsession begins."  Toji narrated with the
voice of experience. 

    Kensuke cheerfully ignored the jab, and was about to probe further
when the stairwell door opened to admit three more students. 

    'Now -that's- an interesting look for Kensuke,' Shinji observed,
quirking an eyebrow at the noodle bits decorating his friend's lap. 
Mercifully refraining comment on his friend's attempts to separate his
lunch from his wardrobe, Shinji noticed the other girl accompanying his
fellow pilots.

    Nami greeted them with a wave. "Hello, Shinji.  May we join you?"

    "Ok," Shinji replied hesitantly, glancing at his friends.   

    "Great, I'm starving.  Chidori wanted to escape too, so we granted
asylum."

    "Fine by me," Toji agreed, Kensuke refusing comment.

    The new arrivals sat facing the boys, arranged into a sort of
flattened circle as they set about the serious business of Lunch. 
  
    Kaname listened to the group with growing surprise.  Aida's reaction
to her arrival aside, the boys seemed to take her presence in stride, and
had picked up where they'd left off.  And that's what made it so strange. 
Ikari was always so quiet during class, participating only if the teacher
specifically called on him and all other times staring fixedly at his
computer or desk.  It was a bit of a shock to see him talking naturally. 

    'I wonder if Ayanami is the same way?  It would make sense.  They
have a lot bigger things to worry about, so it's probably hard to focus
on something like school.'

    "That's interesting, what kind of things do you like to take
pictures of?" she heard Han ask Kensuke. 

    Kaname smiled dangerously.

--/

2014

    Kensuke wandered through a small park towards home, backpack slung
over his shoulders, battered but serviceable digital camera in hand. So
engrossed was he with the contents of its small screen that the first time
his name was called he continued on, oblivious. 

    "Hey, I know you heard me!"

    "Huh?" he turned to find one of the objects of his previous
contemplation standing a few meters behind him wearing a softball uniform. 
A bag containing her equipment was slung over one shoulder, freeing her
clenched fists to be placed firmly on her hips. "Oh, hi Chidori.  Um, did
you need something?"

    Her annoyed scowl dissolving into a small smile now that she had
his attention, Kaname sauntered towards him, her big brown eyes locked on
his. "As a matter of fact, Mister Aida, there -is- something you can do
for me," she replied in a throaty voice that had no business coming from
a thirteen year old.

    "Eeeh," Kensuke's throat tightened on his response as she closed
the distance.  His eyes locked onto the slender finger slowly tracing the
rim around her uniform's top button.

    Right up until a set of size six cleats caught him in the solar
plexus. 

    Doubled over and whooping for breath, he gave no resistance to
her appropriation of his camera. "Now," Kaname began, as Kensuke's head
craned up towards his attacker.  Her was demeanor completely devoid of its
previous warmth as she spoke once more. "Let's start over.  You're the
asshole who likes taking pictures of girls from hiding.  And..." she
paused to withdraw her softball bat from the bag she'd placed at her feet.
"I'm the girl who's going to teach you a lesson.  This is for the locker
room."  She raised the bat above her head and brought it down upon the
hapless camera with a mighty swing.  "This is for the pool..."

--/   

    Kensuke unconsciously dragged his camera closer to him.  "Military
stuff, mostly.  I was down in Yokosuka when Fearless visited." 

    Han nodded. "So is it a hobby, or are you preparing for the future?" 

    Kensuke frowned in thought. "Maybe both," he answered after a moment.
"I used to think it was too early to worry about that kind of thing, but
now..."

    The pilots nodded.  Priorities change.

    "And you, Suzuhara?  Besides sports, anyway." Nami quirked a smile
at the tracksuit-clad boy.

    "Not as much, anymore." Toji frowned at the concrete. "My sister's
been in the hospital, and with Dad and Granddad working so much I'm all
she's got."

    "Oh," Nami replied quietly. "What happened?"

    Toji sighed. "The war.  But, if Shinji apologizes about it one more
time I'm gonna have to smack him," he continued without looking at the
pilot in question, knowing the guilt ridden expression he'd find.

    "Again," Kensuke added in a stage whisper.     

    Kaname's eyebrows climbed, she hadn't heard this one before. 
"Well you can't leave it there."

    "Yes, I'm curious too," Han agreed coolly, Nami nodding as well.

    Toji searched the small group for support, finding none in either
of the new pilot's patient expressions or Shinji's 'you brought this on
yourself' shrug.  "Fine.  Well, it was just after Shinji got here..."

----------   
   
    Tessa mounted the stairs leading to the roof, an ear cocked for signs
of pursuit. 

    "Talk about too much of a good thing."  The informal Q&A she'd just
escaped from had been fun for a while.  Certainly the friendliness she'd
been greeted with on arrival here was a big plus compared to her last
experience with the Japanese school system.  But enough is enough!  Besides,
Sam looked like he was enjoying himself and trying to put his homesickness
behind him, so once Asuka had made her exit trailing a newly minted entourage,
Tessa had made herself scarce. 

    She just hoped he kept his wits about him.  The last thing Sam needed
was for some harpy to sink her claws in him while he was vulnerable.  The
predatory smiles on two girls in particular had nearly sent chills down
the young pilot's spine, and she was -anything- but the target. 

    Finally, she reached the top of the stairs and nudged the door
open, squinting in the light to find the small cluster of teenagers by the
railing.

    "Ah, finally made it?  But where's Roberts?" Han asked on seeing
her.

    Tessa smiled a greeting as she sat, the others budging aside to open
a space. "It did take some doing.  Sam is bravely holding the rearguard,"
she informed them gravely.   
   
    "Then may his sacrifice never be forgotten," Nami intoned, the
formal phrase at odds with the grin adorning her features.

    Tessa's serious mein broke.  Giggling at the thought of Sam's
'sacrifice' under the circumstances, she agreed "I doubt he'll let us,"
before turning to Kaname.  "I don't think we've met."

    "This is Kaname Chidori," Han began by way of introduction.  "She
wasn't interested in the feeding frenzy downstairs either, so we invited
her up."

    Tessa bowed slightly from her seated position. "Pleased to meet you."

    "Me too." Kaname returned it, and held out a hand. "I spent some
time in the States," she explained at Tessa's raised eyebrow.

    "Ah, I see.  Now, I thought I heard something about a good ice cream
shop near here?"

    "Oh yeah," Kaname picked up where she'd left off before the newcomer's
arrival. "Ben and Jerry's, of all companies, has a store here..." 

    The boys shared a look as the conversation moved into less male-
friendly territory.  "Right.  So," Kensuke began. "I was talking to
Gord, the owner of the video arcade we go to," he explained for Han's
benefit "the other day, and he says he's got some new additions coming
in later this week."

    Toji grinned knowingly.  "He say what they were?"

    "Of course not, he was as cagey as usual, but my sources tell me
our long awaited sequel is one of them."

    "Ah ha, that is good news.  So take a look on say...Thursday?
Nothing's due then, and we have a math test Wednesday."

    "Sounds good." Kensuke nodded "Shinji, Han, interested?"

    Shinji frowned. "I might be able to, if my qualifier finishes in
time.  Roberts is scheduled first, then Ayanami.  I'm next after her."

    "Qualifier?  Aren't you already pilots?" Toji asked with a confused
look. "Er, I mean..."

    "Shinji is, yes.  He and Rei undergoing it for solidarity's sake,"
Han explained, waving off his apology. "For the rest of us, it is a final
exam before they trust us completely.  I am last, so I will not be able
to attend."

    "Hm, that's a shame.  Well, good luck," Kensuke encouraged them both,
obviously filing away this bit of trivia.    

----------
  
    "You looked like you were having a good time," Mana commented
in English over the rumble of the tram. 

    "When I knew what the hell they were saying, anyway," Sam grimaced.
"If they'd told me to take a flanking position and lay down enfilading
fire I'd have been fine, but as it was I was guessing on about every
tenth word."

    Mana chuckled.  "Bah, you did fine.  Just ask them to slow down or
ask what the word means.  If you play your cards right, you might even get
one of them to offer you 'private lessons.'" she wiggled her eyebrows
suggestively.

    Sam burst out laughing, causing the other passengers to turn and
stare for a moment. "Yeah, and there's a pig on final approach to Runway
013.  Tell me another one," he said more quietly.

    "We'll see." Mana shrugged and dropped the subject.  Shinji had
been reserved to the point of shyness for most of his time in Tokyo-3,
but he'd managed to accrue a respectable following among his classmates. 
Rei had done so as well, in spite of her even more aggressive withdrawal. 
Mana had to admit, it was cute watching that pair inch each other out
of their shells.  But in spite of the process' acceleration since Rei's
mission to Russia, it was like waiting for grass to grow.    

    The new additions didn't suffer -that- flaw.  If anything, their
interactions were starting to remind Mana of her old Orca VTOL crew more
than anything.  Keita and Lee had traded barbs with her as often as she'd
whipped their asses playing whatever fighting game they'd loaded into
the squadron's game console.  But never once had they left her swinging. 
The pilots might not play as rough as she and her comrades, but they were
no less devoted. 

    At least, if they could get the kinks worked out.  Starting with
ensuring no further intra-Nerv romances blossomed in the near future. 
Rei and Shinji were in no danger of that, yet, but there were plenty of
other possible combinations.  Mana and her commander had never discussed
the situation in those terms, but she knew Misato's opinion, and agreed
with it.  She'd seen the ugly results of philandering where it shouldn't
be, and never wanted to again.  Hence her not so subtle prompting in Sam's
case.  Far better to have someone to come back to or confide in outside
Nerv. 
     
    The other problem she'd seen was a bit more complicated.  Both she
and Sousuke had access to the pilot's profiles as a matter of course, and
it hadn't taken a neurosurgeon to see some patterns if you read between
the lines a little.  All of the pilots had impressive resumes, after all,
most of them had been been chosen specifically because they were driven,
capable people.  And, she suspected, because they had few personal ties.
Asuka was a prime example: Completed public education by age ten.  A
bachelor's degree last year, with honors, from Munich Polytechnic.
-Simultaneously- attended the UN Officer Candidate School there, and also
passed with flying colors, though she'd been much too young to accept a
commission.  And topping it all off, she and Rei had between them
essentially written the book on pilot training and Eva deployment. The
fact that Asuka could achieve so much in spite of her dickless wonder of
a father and nonentity of a stepmother was simply awe inspiring to the
teenage petty officer.

    But the flip side of that was that very self-sufficiency made
relying on others incredibly difficult, however necessary it might be. 
Major Katsuragi had pushed hard for, and gotten, the cooperative simulations
the pilots had spent untold hours in after Shinji's nearly disastrous
battle with the Fourth Angel, Shamshel.  That had helped greatly, and
the preexisting relationships formed in that training were speeding the
process of welding them into a whole, but there were definitely rough
spots.
 
    Which was why Mana was -really- trying to be patient.  And again,
the she suspected she wasn't alone in that.  The Major was far too
professional to say anything where her subordinates might hear, but
anyone could see Asuka's refusal to engage with her teammates
perfectly well on their own.  Certainly no one had required the pilots to
eat or even socialize together, though most had.  But blatantly snubbing
the invitation was something else again.  Added to the pilot assembling
a coterie of admirers, the situation didn't sit well at all with this
sailor.  

    'At least Rei made up for it, if accidentally.  That was priceless.'
Mana cackled to herself, having been keeping watch on Asuka, she'd been
ideally placed to hear the whole exchange. 'I could almost wish someone
would -give- Rei that order, just to see Asuka's face.'

    The tram slowed to a stop outside the geofront entrance, prompting
the pilots and Nerv personnel to stand and collect belongings as the doors
opened.  After trading goodbyes with the pilots, and flipping the Section
Two man at the gate an ironic salute as the doors closed, Mana leaned back
in her seat with a groan of relief, sharing a look of exhausted
understanding with Sousuke.

    This watching over seven targets was for the damned birds.


Nerv HQ
September 16, 2015  
4:45 PM Local Time

    Richard Mardukas was a busy man.  The sudden influx of three more
Evas to certify, plus their accessory equipment, was a major job
in itself.  The addition of the rebuild job on Eva-00 was enough to have
them all running ragged.  So it was with very poor humor that he responded
to the diffident call for his attention. 

    Tessa fidgeted under his stony glare. "Major Katsuragi's compliments,
and may she inquire when your department will be ready for the test runs?"
the pilot asked, taking refuge in the formal phrasing.

    "Was the Major unfamiliar with the concept of a telephone?" his
icily controlled voice carved through the background din.

    "She said you weren't answering it."

    "I don't suppose it occurred to her there was a reason for that,
after the fifth call," he snarled quietly.  Apparently the pilot overheard,
since her eyes widened noticeably as she stared off over his left shoulder.

    Reminding himself firmly not to flay the messenger, he controlled
his tone and answered "Tell Major Katsuragi we will be ready as soon as
we can.  And that I'll call her when that is," he added after a moment,
"before I have to leave my phone off the hook to get any work done," he
muttered.

    As Tessa turned to relay the message, Richard frowned slightly to
himself as he stared after her.  Finally, he shook his head and resumed
barking orders to his teams.

----------
  
    Sam idled outside the geofront exit waiting for a tram going his
way.  Dressed in his street clothes, he looked much like any other junior
high age boy on his way home. 

    He'd ignored the tram car rolling to a stop before him once he'd
realized it was on the wrong line, but the voice calling from down the
platform pulled the pilot back.

    "Hello," Sam greeted the advancing pair. "I remember you, Aida,"
he leveled an annoyed look at Kensuke. "But I am sorry, I have forgotten
your name." He shrugged apologetically at Toji.

    "Nah, don't sweat it. I'm Toji Suzuhara.  We thought you'd all be
done by now, though."

    Sam rolled his eyes heavenward. "So did we.  There was a breakdown
on the mag-lev line out to the training grounds, so we are all behind.  I
was just released."

     "Aw man.  We were going to hit the arcade before they closed,"
Toji complained.  "Kensuke here's been whining about trying out the new
game they got in for a week."

    "What game?"

    "The new Dead or Alive.  It's supposed to be a lot more 'realistic'
than the last one,"  Kensuke grinned conspiratorially. 

    Not being a fighting game fan, Sam missed the significance completely.
"Shinji is not scheduled to leave for another two hours, so you would
do as well go on ahead."

    Kensuke sighed in frustration, before giving Sam a speculative look.
"We could use another player..."

    "Of course.  I do not play many of those games, though," he warned
them.

    "No problem.  They've got all kinds: racing, pachinko, even a set of
pods for simulators," Kensuke enthused. 

    "Sounds like fun." Sam pulled his phone from his pocket and started
punching numbers.  "Command prefers to know where we are, so..." he paused
as the call connected, and traded a few sentences with the other end. 
After a moment he agreed and thumbed the disconnect button.  "Green light. 
I must be at the Major's by the time the others finish."

    "Awesome.  Onwards!"  Kensuke led off at a march to the stop for
downtown.

    "Is he always this way?" Sam murmured to Toji.

    "Only when there's a new weapon to photograph, or game to play,
or person to interrogate," the teenaged athlete failed to reassure him. 
"He's a good guy, though."  As they caught up to Kensuke, he stepped
back from the tram door he'd been holding open and joined them.

    "So..." Kensuke began, tripping off Sam's mental alarms.  Busy
rehearsing polite ways to say that anything his questioner wanted to
know was probably classified higher than God, he was caught short by
"where are you from, exactly?"

    "So sorry, I can't...oh.  Oklahoma.  Oklahoma City, in fact."

    Kensuke grinned at the bobble. "Shinji already warned us." He
shook his head in resigned amusement. "As if anyone with decent optics
and a copy of Jane's can't guess what armament and sensors the Evas carry."

    "I thought each Eva was brought in late at night with escorts."

    "That's what light amplifiers and telescopes are for," the amateur
spy pointed out.  Leaving Sam no time to contemplate the ramifications
of that admission, Kensuke continued "So what's it like there?"
    
    "Flat.  Very, very flat." Sam responded after a moment, only a little
bit flippantly. "It is somewhat disconcerting here, as though I am...trapped,
I suppose?" he asked uncertainly, the few hundred word vocabulary they'd
had time to learn not quite up to the challenge. "At home I can see all
the way to the horizon, here I can see only a few kilometers."

    "Huh." Toji considered. "I'd guess it would get boring after a
while, though."

    Sam snorted agreement.  "You have much better scenery here."

    The tram arrived, and the trio found themselves on a moderately
crowded shopping street, lined with glass fronted stores and a cafe of
some sort on the corner, the sidewalks thronging with people window
shopping or simply enjoying the last good weather before the rains came
towards the end of summer. 

    "More people than I expected," Sam observed.

    Kensuke shrugged. "This is pretty slow, really. Back before the war
there would've been twice this many. Same with school." His expression
lightened. "Anyway, we're close.  Come on."

    He led them along the street to the next intersection and hung a
left for a few more meters before coming to a stop.  Before them was a
glass fronted space wedged between an ice cream shop and a hardware
store, big red Roman letters and kanji announcing the name to be Gamer's
Edge. 

    They stepped through the glass doors separating the cool
interior from the outdoors into a clean but crowded room, ranked arcade
cabinets and intently concentrating players and spectators filling the
space to claustrophobic levels.  Pressing slowly but determinately through
the crowd, they at last reached the new additions.

    "Damn it, I knew we should've gotten here earlier!" Kensuke
complained over the crowd noise.  The game in question was packed five
deep with watchers and potential players.  Two scantily clad fighters
under the control of a pair of twenty-something men were beating each
other senseless on the screen facing them. 

    "No go on that one, it'll be an hour at least before we get to it."
Toji opined.  "How about the racer?"

    "Ahhh, perhaps."  Sam raised up on his toes to see over the crowd.
"If that one is an hour then this one is twenty minutes."

    "The sims it is then," Kensuke pronounced. "Sam, do you want to sit
this out? You're probably sick of these things."

    "So long as no one mentions an AT field, I am golden." Sam
responded with a lopsided grin. "Let's do this."
    
    Sam quickly settled himself in the padded seat of the pod.  Looking
to his right and left to see Toji and Kensuke sliding their seats forward
on their rails to place them within the shells, he followed suit.  He
found himself surrounded on three sides by a series of displays to give
a 270 degree view of the world.

    "No wonder Kensuke thought I'd want out, this is downright eerie."

    Shaking off the feeling, he punched a likely looking button labeled
both in katakana, which he understood after a fashion, and kanji, which
he certainly didn't.  Using them to scroll through the game selections,
he soon came upon one that stopped him cold. 

    Oh, boy.  If y'all let me do this...  "What do you think of this
one?" he asked over the intercom allowing communication between pods. 

    "Mmm...ok.  I'm game," Toji's voice responded scratchily, briefly
breaking the sensation of being in a pre-synchronization entry plug. 

    "Fine with me," Kensuke agreed. 

    Mentally shrugging, Sam scrolled through the available aircraft. 

    'Huh.  No Army models at all.  Well, I can slum a bit.' The fighters
available to most navies of the mid-20th century tended to have poorer
performance than their land-based brethren, in spite of identical
powerplants.  The sheer daily abuse navy aircraft took from slamming into
aircraft carrier decks, in what were for all practical purposes controlled
crashes, required much stronger and heavier structures.

    One of the rare exceptions to the rule was the Japanese A6M 'Zero,'
which Toji had picked.  Kensuke must have been feeling adventurous,
since he'd selected the naval version of the 'Spitfire' of Battle of
Britain fame.

    Locking in his own selection, Sam settled himself in his seat one
more time, took the controls in hand, and raised his eyes from the display
simulating his instrument panel to the world outside.  The F4U 'Corsair'
had dominated the Pacific in its day. 

    It was time to demonstrate why.

---------- 

    That night found Shinji propped against the couch at home.  With
soda in hand, he watched the party swirl around him.

    Misato had, perhaps foolishly, publicly stated that they were
welcome to invite friends over for the after qualifications party she'd
laid on.  Probably she'd expected Toji and Kensuke to show, but it was
mostly an excuse for Sousuke and Mana to attend without suspicion.

    Instead, in addition to those expected, Asuka had brought the class
president, Hikari Horaki, and Nami and Tessa seemed to have jointly brought
Kaname Chidori.  He had no idea who'd invited the ponytailed guy over
there with Doctor Akagi.  Whoever the thirtyish man was, he was doing a
lovely job at ruining Misato's mood.

    "So anyway, I'm turning to chase after Sam, and I hear this voice
-screaming- 'Get him off me! Get him off me!'" Toji's laughter carried above
the background noise. "I thought he'd taken a six year old in there with
him or somethin' it was so high pitched."

    "Brave Captain Kensuke got some of his own back?" Kaname needled
from the other end of the straggling group of teenagers on the floor of
Misato's living room.

    "Ha ha," Kensuke sourly replied over his shoulder. "My traitorous
-former- friend here forgot to mention he didn't do any better."

    "Eh, not my kind of game," Toji shrugged without concern. "I made up
for it on the motorcycles..."

    Shinji tuned out the rest, he'd heard the story already.  Meanwhile,
Asuka and Horaki were seated with heads together, occasional giggles
escaping the huddle.  The German's rationale for the class president's
invitation was to 'guarantee she had someone interesting to talk to,'
which he found himself vaguely annoyed by.  Shinji noticed the pilot girl
had discarded the monogrammed baseball cap they'd all gotten this afternoon
when she'd changed clothes. 

    He couldn't blame her, it was a little silly.  If they'd had an
actual uniform besides the plugsuits, it would've made a nice accessory,
but he couldn't imagine another time he would wear the thing.  But Misato
had looked so proud when she had given it to him at the impromptu and
highly unoffical ceremony after the tests that he hadn't had the heart to
take his off.  At least they had dropped the idea of having each hat match
an Eva's color scheme.  Blue and white like Eva-00 or -03 wouldn't be bad,
or green and gold like Eva-06.  But red and yellow would make your eyes
water, and purple and green didn't even bear thinking on.  Instead, they'd
gotten a practical, solid black hat with their name across the back above
the adjustment strap in silver, and in front a Nerv leaf with, in his case,
'Evangelion Unit-01' written in an arc above and 'Test' written below,
also in silver.

    "Hey, something wrong?"

    Jerking around in surprise, Shinji saw the American girl, Tessa, had
perched on the arm of the couch and was looking down at him curiously.

      addressing the frustrated blond pilot in charge of assembling the barbeque
grill. "Let's get moving!">

    "Oh, ahh...no," he replied after a moment, snapping his gaze back
to his bare feet.

    get over here and help," Sam snapped at the would be foreman. "My God,
what language were these instructions translated from, Kurdish!?" he
groaned and repeated for their edification the phrase 'Please inserting
to be orifice, Tab B and rotate vigorously.'>

    "That was a classic case of a thousand yard stare if I ever saw
one," she pressed as she slid off and sat on the floor, her head pillowed
on her former seat.

    pages from Kensuke's hand after a quick look and aborting his attempt to
decipher the Japanese copy of the plans.  "You idiots!  They mean the tab
on the heater coil, not the rheostat!">
 
    "It's nothing," Shinji insisted quickly. "I'm just not used to
lots of people around like this," he added, taking in the semi-chaos
that had invaded his home. 

    'tab B' on the heater!"  Sam snarled back, his patience worn through
from putzing with a five minute job for over half an hour.>

    question.>

   

    "I can understand that," Tessa agreed after surveying the less
than touching scene. "My mom and brother were always the outgoing ones;
I was like Dad, as happy with a book and a mug of tea as I was at a
party."

    Something in the way she'd delivered that statement, a tiny hitch
in her voice perhaps, caught his attention.  "Was?" he asked with a sinking
feeling in his gut.

    Tessa looked away. "Was."

    Shinji had no earthly idea what to say.  Noticing him staring at
her, Tessa flushed in embarrassment and looked at the floor.  "Sorry.  I
didn't mean to start a pity party."

    "No, its just..." he stopped and tried again. "You're alone?"

    aren't even the plans for this model!  Where the hell did you buy this,
a flea market?  Are you sure you're not the Fourth Stooge?!>  

    "Maybe.  They never found my brother, Leonard," the girl chuckled
sadly. "Silly, I know.  Its been two years, but what else can I do except
hope?"

    the plans back and matched the labels up.  "See, GE Model 183-R!">

    "Which was manufactured in 2012," she stated in a flat, dangerous voice.>

    three years old, so sure," Kensuke agreed, tilting his head quizzically.
"Why?">

    were printed in NINETEEN-NINETY-EIGHT!  You think there might've been a
-few- design changes between then and now?!" the irate German rattled
the yellowed plans in the speechless boy's face.>

     Seizing the opportunity to both rapidly change the subject, and
hopefully avoid imminent bloodshed, Tessa stood and began advancing on
the group of snarling teens interrupting their quiet conversation.
"That can't end well.  What do you say we shut this down -fast.-" 
she called over her shoulder to Shinji, quickening her steps as Hikari
deftly sidled out of the line of fire. 

    "By taking who's side?" Shinji asked uncertainly as he followed,
noting Robert's slow rise as he dropped his screwdriver and leveled an
arctic stare at the hapless Kensuke. 

    "That's an excellent question..."


Nerv HQ
September 19, 2015
10:00AM Local Time

    Misato's foot tapped to an unconscious beat as she waited in
Cage 4 for her subordinates to arrive.  Behind the professional mask her
expression had become, the gears turned in the officer's mind concerning
the latest developments.  Finally, she nodded to herself and relaxed
slightly.

    One by one they trickled in, taking gratifyingly little time.  All
were in weekend wear of different kinds, excepting Rei's ever present
uniform, which was entirely appropriate.  Her instructions regarding a
recall order had been simple, "Get here as fast as you can.  If you're
in the shower, grab a towel and come here in it."

    "As you've guessed, we've detected the latest Angel just inside lunar
orbit," Misato began, silently thanking the gods this had been the case.

    The assumption that the orbital radar and AT field detector arrays
would be sufficient warning had been just one more casualty of the sixth,
as yet codename-less, Angel's attack.  She had already seen draft
proposals for stepped up terrestrial monitoring, and the Major suspected
they were only the tip of the iceberg.

    "Unfortunately, this one seems to be smarter than its predecessors. 
As of now, the Magi are giving a seventy percent chance of a touchdown
outside Japan, most probably Central or South America based on its orbital
path."  Misato frowned in annoyance. "Given we need to cover both HQ
and the potential landing zone, we have no choice but to split our force. 
Since we still lack team assignments, this time, and -only- this time,"
she emphasized, sternly meeting each of the pilot's eyes in turn "you're
going to help me choose." Major Katsuragi nodded at their surprised
expressions.  "You heard correctly.  Given the expedition will be
operating without the level of support we enjoy here in Japan, our job
will be that much more difficult.  I completely understand if anyone
would rather remain behind under the circumstances." 

    Misato waited a moment for further comment, and announced in a clear,
carrying voice, "Anyone willing to accompany the expeditionary force,
please raise your hand."

    As though the scene had been choreographed, a cluster of hands
instantly rose in unison.  The Ops director nodded, apparently satisfied.
Then, slowly, a predatory grin manifested itself like a shark rising from
the deep.

    "Excellent.  Congratulations, Pilot Ikari, Pilot Fei.  In honor of
your being the -only- two people in the room with enough common sense not
to volunteer for extra danger, you are hereby chosen.  Grab a toothbrush
and meet me here in twenty minutes."


Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean
4:00PM Tokyo Standard Time

    Han's eye crept above the edge of Patrick O'Brian's 'The Far Side
of the World' at the first snore.

    The first few hours of the flight hadn't been bad.  The pilot had
been considerably less than thrilled to share his flight with a elderly
superior, he thought, was certain to be boring beyond words.  Particularly
given the alternative company available, he'd promised to be faithful, not
blind after all.  But, it turned out the old professor had a passable grasp
of Mandarin and a fund of funny stories from his teaching days to tell in
it. 

    It made a decent consolation prize, Han had decided.   

    But ever since the Deputy Director had drifted off, as they'd gotten
closer to the end of the journey, Han had more and more trouble keeping
interest in a story that always hooked him no matter what.  He felt
possessed by a sort of jittery, nervous energy that had him wanting to pace
the small cabin, run a systems check on Eva-06, anything to distract him
for a few moments. 

    Making an irritated sound, the young soldier rummaged in his bag,
emerging with the earplugs he'd brought just in case and quickly inserted
them.  That done, he resettled himself in the seat and tried to return to
the world of His Majesty's Ship Surprise and her battle against Bonapartist
tyranny.

----------

    Shinji twitched at the tap on his shoulder, but didn't awaken. 
Misato didn't press the matter further.  If the poor kid was wrung out
enough to sleep without even a set of earplugs, it would be a crime to
wake him just for conversation. 

    Blowing a breath between pursed lips, his commander leaned back in
her seat.  Around her their gigantic flying wing-style transport,
appropriately nicknamed 'Atlas', sped towards their destination.

    Amongst the other changes Second Impact had wrought, the downfall
of the American manned space program was perhaps not so important.  With
its primary launch site in Florida inundated, and far more pressing needs
closer to home, it had appeared that NASA's days were over.   

    And so they would have been, except in 2002 a young Boeing engineer
made a startling realization.  While their bat-winged 797 heavy lift/jumbo
jet airliner prototype was unmarketable in its current state, with
comparatively minor changes there was a role it -could- perform.  As a
mothership for launching satellite or spacecraft carrying rockets. 

    -Big- rockets. 

    Five years and many a dire prediction later, the first Atlas rolled
off the Wichita, Kansas assembly line, as they continued to today. 

    Nerv's, or more accurately the UN's, examples were strange even by
the standards of that odd breed. Certainly eyebrows had been raised when
reinforced landing gear, afterburners, and fully encrypted satellite
communications gear were mentioned on the requirements sheet!  But the
customer is always right...        

    "Major, the support aircraft got off on schedule.  ETA on the Angel
is unchanged,"  Lieutenant Hyuuga announced from behind the controls, as
befitted Nerv's senior transport pilot.  Lieutenant Aoba filled the same
role in Neo Path 402, carrying Eva-06.

    Misato thanked him automatically, her mind occupied in mulling over
the news.  Though reassuring, the announcement wasn't unexpected. 
Twenty-two hours until the fun started.

    Sweeping her gaze across the cabin again, her eyes stopped on Shinji's
bookbag. 

    'He won't mind,' Misato rationalized, and deftly plucked the music
player from the outside pocket.  She hadn't seen an SDAT since she was
a little girl, and couldn't imagine where her roommate had found it. 
Smiling slightly, his guardian fitted the earbuds in and pressed play.

           
Hutchins Naval Air Station
Panama Territory
September 20, 2015
10:00AM Local Time

    Though the light show of the Angel's atmospheric entry was visible
even in broad daylight, ironically those most intimately concerned with
its consequences never saw it 'live.'  Shut up in their entry plugs,
systems on standby, the Eva pilots were blind to the outside world as their
transports awakened within their hangars.  Kozo Fuyutski was closeted with
a succession of understandably rattled officials from nearby nations,
soothing ruffled feathers as best he could.  And Misato again rode the
lead transport, watching the Angel's progress on her laptop.

    "APU start," Makoto announced over the intercom.

    Lieutenant Moriso, their copilot, confirmed the command, a low whine
muffled by the intervening structure starting from the aircraft's tail.

    "I show green for auxiliary power.  Purging umbilical." Moriso's
bass voice reported crisply.

    A ground crewman dragged the heavy power cable away from the aircraft.
Meanwhile, another team removed the wheel chocks preventing the craft from
rolling on its small forest of landing gear.  Finally the crew chief
signaled all clear to Makoto.

       //Kenny Loggins "Danger Zone" _Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow_ //

    "Umbilical clear.  Brakes set.  Main engine start."

    "Starting One and Eight," the copilot responded.  Outside the
craft, the keening wail of massive turbines spinning up reverberated through
the open ended structure.  Climbing towards an almost inaudibly high shriek,
igniters sparked the mixture of air and jet fuel, instantly dropping their
pitch to a bone shaking bellow.

    Makoto announced the next pair to start, to a further increase in
noise, and the next.  Misato was certain that her eardrums were about to
meet in the middle of her head.  She knew she should've snagged one of
those big sound damping helmets when she had the chance! 

    "Three and Six." A moment later, "Four and Five.  Confirm all eight
burning.  We are clear to taxi."

    The noise level dropped markedly once the aircraft left the giant
echo chamber of its hangar.  Misato sighed in heartfelt relief as she
returned to her map display tracking the Angel's descent.  Ignoring the
various lurches and halts, she nodded to herself. 

    "So far, so good.  An ocean splashdown seems to be a running theme
for these guys.  Fuyutski should be warning the Colombians we're coming,
so right now it's hurry up and wait." 

    The plane lurched to a stop at the end of the runway, pausing
for a final systems check.  Misato approved, never mind the same check
had been run hourly since dawn.

    A brief announcement by Makoto preceded the obvious.  The engines
wound up from an idling snarl to a full throated roar.  Their exhaust
nozzles dilating wide enough to swallow a small car, the craft surged
forward under the thrust of eight of the largest jet engines ever built. 

    A sudden sharp shove rearwards announced the pilot had kicked in the
afterburners.  Not in haste to be aloft, but a necessity to get an aircraft
weighing as much as a decent sized warship airborne within a reasonable
length of runway.  The markers whipped by with ever increasing speed outside
the windows, the thumps of the tires crossing the runway seams becoming
more frequent by the second.  A short hop followed by a bounding leap
skyward announced they'd succeeded, the small window next to Misato granted
a view of the remnants of Panama as they banked towards their destination. 

    If the rise in sea levels had one advantage, it was the erasure of
one of the classic choke points of world commerce, the Panama Canal.  Now
better thought of as the Panama Strait, the entire area was wholly owned
by the United Nations. 

    And makes up its major revenue stream, Misato added mentally. 
Below her were a small horde of large and small freighters plying the
waters of the strait.  A naval officer like Commander Mardukas would
probably have a better grasp of the economics of the situation.  Still,
even a grunt like her could tell that even a tiny cut of the cargo value
of each of those ships in usage fees added up to serious coin in a hurry.

    Feeling the plane level off, Misato unstrapped and allowed herself
a glorious stretch, letting joints stiffened from hours in her seat pop
and snap.  Much refreshed, the Major paused at the door to the cockpit
to confer with Hyuuga, and then headed aft to the cargo bay.  Within a
void that could have comfortably held a small airliner, Eva-01 lay braced
in a spider's web of restraints.  Upon scaling a ladder reaching to the
entry plug socket, she picked up the ground crew phone latched behind a
well marked panel.

    "Shinji, we're about fifty minutes out.  How are you doing in there?"
His look of utter betrayal when she announced his assignment had sapped
much of Misato's satisfaction at finding a way to soften the blow for the
others. 

    Unfortunately, this was a case of Major Katsuragi's needs outweighing
those of Misato herself.   

    "I'm fine," a subdued voice replied.

    "Well if you need a stretch or bathroom break, now is your chance."
Misato pointed out.  Once they began their descent to keep the horizon
between them and their foe, moving around unrestrained would be an
invitation to a concussion. 

    "It's ok, Misato," the boy insisted quietly.    
     
    Misato sighed at the resignation in his voice, and what saddened
her was that she'd do it again.  Ritsuko had been right all along, damn
her.  All things have a price.  Shinji was a willing combatant now, but
he was also her family.  She owed him more than an order and a pat on the
head. "No, it isn't.  I could just as easily have brought Rei or Asuka for
this, and we both know it."  Silence answered her, but the truth was
obvious. "Do you know why I didn't?" she pressed after a moment.

    "No," he answered, recrimination in his voice.

    "Because of him." She angled her head outside, knowing he couldn't
see her, but somehow also knowing he'd understand anyway.  "Rei and Asuka
have been pilots since they could walk.  It's been years since they were
first closed up inside a giant metal tube and jammed into an experimental
machine.  You, on the other hand, still remember what it's like to be scared
every time you climb aboard.  So I decided that if I was going to bring
along someone to shepherd a new pilot, it would be one I trust to do
the job right."

    Misato waited for his reply, but as she was about to replace the
handset, Shinji spoke two words that lifted the weight from her shoulders.

    "I'll try."


Colombia
10:55AM Local Time

      Han fidgeted nervously in the entry plug of Eva-06.  Lt. Aoba's
litany of time to drop and altitude corrections competed with the
sickening lurches and leaps the terrain-following autopilot commanded the
transport to make for his attention.

    "Thank the heavens I was too nervous to eat.  If I'd even had a
muffin I'd be throwing up my toenails right now," he groaned softly.

    Controlling his breathing as he'd been taught, Han pushed the nausea
back into its corner and focused on his more important if less immediate
problems.  While the Evas were certified for air delivery, apparently no
one realized neither of the selected pilots had ever done an air drop
for real.  In fact, the -only- pilot to proof test the system was on the
other side of the world, and it struck Han as a bit late to call up Rei
to ask for pointers!

    "Coming up on initial point.  Turning to final heading, reducing
speed to two-zero-zero."

    "Here we go.  Shinji, you'd better be right."  His fellow pilot had
obviously been new to the whole pre-battle pep talk thing.  But the central
point, that even the Third Child got so scared his hands shook on the
controls, was reassuring all the same.

    A few seconds later a glowing crack outlining each of the huge
doors making up the floor of the bay appeared below him.  As they popped
out and slid sideways along the transport's belly, a series of ridge lines
loomed terrifyingly close before dropping sickeningly into the valleys
between.

    "Stand by for drop.  Good luck, Eva-06."

    Tightly acknowledging the message, he waited as the countdown clock
ticked down the last few seconds.  A muted bang announced the release of
the restraints, and then gravity took over.

    An impartial judge might've given their landings a '3' if he was
feeling generous, considering the swath of demolished jungle the pair
left in their wakes.  But Han consoled himself with the fact they weren't
here to look pretty.

      Two hours later, he watched the Caribbean's waves lap against the
beach far below him.  It really was a pretty place, it's a shame they were
going to make such a mess of it.

    Around him rose the jungle shrouded foothills of the Sierra Nevada
de Santa Marta Mountains.  Ensconced behind one of them, Eva-06 sported
the add-on batteries that made the operation possible in the first place.
Though granting only an additional fifteen minutes of operating time
between them, laid like a trail of breadcrumbs they allowed the Evas to
reach the airport where their transports waited.

    "We've confirmed the Angel has steadied down on its final course,
it will make landfall about three kilometers to your north.  Move to
point Charlie and set up, we're expecting company within the hour."

    Rogering the message, he made an irritated noise and hoisted his
rifle.  Beginning the march to his new position, Han waited for Eva-01
to collect the bulky tube of its rocket launcher before setting off. 

    The path they followed would have been impassible for anything much
smaller or less agile than an Eva, but their twenty meter strides converted
most of the obstacles into nuisances.  Thus, they were able to arrive with
plenty of time to spare, for what good it did. 

    While a crew of bulldozers and combat engineers borrowed from the
Colombian Army got to work digging new positions, Shinji surveyed their
new position.

    He was less than pleased. 

    Though the Third Child lacked anything like the tactical training
and experience of his commander or the other two veteran pilots, anyone
could see that the floodplain they'd relocated to was much less suited
to defense.

    "Misato was right.  You can never assume the enemy is stupid, just
take advantage if it turns out he is."  Speaking of his CO, it looked like
the command post had finished relocating as well.  She could've much more
easily rigged a set of remote cameras to cover the new location, but Shinji
appreciated the gesture. 

    "ETA on the target?" Han asked in a flat, tightly controlled voice.

    "Soon.  The Navy lost track in the shallows, but it was still
heading this way."  Obviously the work crews had gotten the news, the
bulldozers were pulling out as fast as their treads could carry them
across the marshy ground. 

    A single beep and glowing red arrow announced his AT field detector
was tracking a new source, bearing almost straight ahead.  And there it
was.  A plume of water half the height of an Eva approached at a speed a
jet boat could've been proud of.  Shinji hefted his rocket launcher and
waited, heart thumping in that familiar way.  The Angel finally ran out of
deep water and rose majestically from the waves, granting their first good
look at the invader.  Generally humanoid in shape, excepting the lack of a
head, the Angel was so round shouldered it was almost hunchbacked.  It
definitely sported the best paint job to date by far, white and green.
The red glow of its core, visible on its central chest, added an effect
Shinji suspected would be creepy as hell in the dark.

    "Wait for it..." Misato warned.  The Angel was still far enough out
it might successfully reach deep water if it retreated, and then they'd
never catch it.  "Let it commit a little more."  A long pause as distance
devouring strides brought it well past the water's edge, and then
"Eva-06, open fire!"

    Han did so with gusto, a swarm of missiles shrieked out six times
faster than sound, followed by a stream of tungsten darts not much slower,
reaching out for the invader.  The results were horrific, chunks of Angel
flesh -splashed- away from the impacts, the creature staggering under the
onslaught as it turned to reply.

    By pre-arranged plan, Han ceased fire and cut his AT field, rolling
out of the ditch a swarm of bulldozers ably assisted by a series of
demolition charges had gouged for cover.  The Angel returned fire, narrowly
missing with an energy discharge that boiled the water standing in puddles
around the field as it passed.  Turning even further to keep Eva-06 in its
sights, it all but turned its back on Shinji.

    "Steady..." Misato reminded him, the moment stretching out.  "NOW! 
Take him Shinji!"

    Eva-01 rose from its own shallow hole, sighted through the wafting
steam, and fired in a single motion.  Three M-26 rockets sped towards
their target's unsuspecting back, the Angel barely beginning to realize
the true danger.  The fireballs masked the scene to a degree, but there
was no hiding the severed upper chunk cartwheeling end over end before
flopping unceremoniously to earth many meters away.

    "Good shooting, Eva-01!" Misato enthused.

    "How can you tell?" the pilot responded, a little disgusted by the
splatter-fest.

    Misato chuckled, and turned her attention to the other pilot. "And
excellent work from our bait as well."

    "I try to please, ma'am," Han replied in turn, his voice betraying
the barest hint of shakiness as his Eva picked itself up.  What Misato's
next remark would've been remained a mystery, preempted by the two masses
of Angel tissue giving a great roiling shiver.

    '...the hell?' she wasn't alone in wondering.  A membrane of some
sort had formed over the two lumps containing the majority of the Angel's
mass.  The seething beneath it quickly increased, the membrane actually
stretching in places from the forces within it.  Misato shook herself
from watching the spectacle.  Keying her microphone, the Major was about
to order the pilots to open fire when the membranes ruptured.

    Standing in place of the original were now two copies, perhaps
three quarters the height, and by her eyeball judgment about half the
mass.  Both had a slimmer, sleeker look than the original, and coloration
that had, oddly enough in this surreal situation, changed to orange and
cream for one and red and cream on the other. 

    The two pilots wasted no time in engaging once more, but the
difference was night and day.  The single angel had been slow, almost
hesitant in its movements, nothing like the aggressiveness and precision
its progeny displayed.   

    Shinji expended his last rocket on the nearest Angel and discarded
the empty launch tube, drawing his pistols from their shoulder hardpoints. 
The Angel made no attempt to dodge, and the projectile plowed into its target
head on, wreathing it in smoke and flame.  Charging through the other side,
the Angel was much the worse for wear, its left arm hung practically by a
thread from the ruin of its shoulder.  Before Misato's horrified eyes,
the flesh knit and flowed like hot wax around the injury, sealing it and
restoring function to the limb in a mere handful of seconds.  Han was doing
no better, his status display indicated he'd exhausted his missiles and his
rifle was almost empty as well. 

    Her head snapped around to Aoba, manning the communications panel. 
"Call in the bombers, now!" 

    The lieutenant hurried to comply, the low, urgent tone at odds with
the battle cacophony that had to be audible to the receiver.

    Twenty kilometers away, a pair of French-built Super Entedard light
bombers waited.  Flying a lazy oval pattern out of sight of the battle,
the dart-like aircraft abruptly turned and streaked towards the conflict. 

    Upon arriving above a point distinguished only by the symbol marking
it on the pilots' displays, the two bombers nosed up, climbing at a
precisely specified angle.  The single fat green bomb fixed to their
centerline bomb racks released in unison, continuing on a ballistic arc
as the launching aircraft terminated the loop and scooted away at top
speed.

    Far below, the two Evas frantically trying to hold off their tormentors
backpedaled furiously, their pistol's muzzle flashes strobing in rapid
fire as they sought to disengage.  The Angels were having none of it,
pursuing the Evas with frightening speed.

    "Major..."  Hyuuga questioned.  The displayed circles, estimated
blast radii from the bombs homing on the Angel, still significantly
overlapped the mechs' positions.         

    Misato swore venomously.  "Both of you, get down, now!"

    The Evas complied with a haste borne of desperation.  Moments later,
the sun was joined by two sisters in the sky.


5:00PM Local Time

    "At least the Deputy Director is around when they ask about redrawing
the map,"  Ritsuko teased over the satellite link.

    Misato laughed sourly. "Yeah, thanks for that."  The craters left
by the pair of N2 bombs had been impressive, but implying the national
map of Colombia needed a redo was a little harsh.  Though you wouldn't
know it by the way those fishermen reacted.  She'd never been so happy
to be ignorant of Spanish.

    "Are you going to resume the attack?" the doctor asked more seriously.

    "Not yet.  The last thing we need is to wake those bastards up before
we're ready."  The Angel halves, for convenience's sake designated Alpha
and Beta, were content to repair the damage inflicted by the air strike.
And they were going to finish much sooner than Misato would like. By
Ritsuko's best estimate the Angels would be fully repaired within seven
hours, far too little time to fly in reinforcements.  

    "Speaking of our friends, we've found something interesting."

    "Oh?"

    "Definitely.  Here, I'm uploading a set of thermal images from the
battle."  Accepting download of the promised images, upon opening them
Misato saw they each showed half of the angel, one from Eva-01's sensors
and the other from Eva-06's.  "This one of Beta is just after that rocket
hit.  Notice the increased temperature around the wound.  Now, take a look
at this one of Alpha, taken at exactly the same time."

    The similarities were obvious.  "So it's doing...what?  Siphoning
energy from each half to power faster repairs?"

    "Most probably.  Given how synchronous they act in other ways, I
wouldn't be at all surprised."      
   
    Misato nodded to herself as she turned over the possibilities. 
"Thank you. You might have given me an idea."

    "I can do one better.  Here."  Another download box popped up. 

    "Oh, Ritsuko.  If you weren't too curvy for me I'd marry you."
Misato breathed upon scanning the contents.  "Thank you, thank you,
thank you," she all but rubbed her hands together in glee.  

    Ritsuko chuckled indulgently. "Not me.  Someone else will have to
take the bullet."

    Misato stuck out her tongue at the camera clipped to her laptop.
"Who then?"

    "You wouldn't believe me if I told you.  Good luck, Major."
           
    A short walk brought Misato from her cubicle in the command van to
their temporary camp.  The Evas bore mute testimony to the nearness of
disaster, their paint blistered, ablative coatings scorched and in places
burned through.  They now crouched behind a nearby rise, out of direct
line of sight from the rapidly regenerating Angels. 
          
    Misato found her pilots seated in the shadows of their Evas, Shinji
with his earbuds in and Han paging through his book.  Both of them looked
considerably better than they had a few hours ago.  Han had excused himself
once he'd reached the ground and hadn't been seen for almost half an hour.
Shinji's previous experience had let him deal with the aftereffects a
little more gracefully, but no one handles an up close encounter with an
N2 blast 'well.'

    'If a case of the shakes is the worst either of them has at the end
of this, I'll be turning cartwheels,' Misato decided upon reaching them.

    "Major," Han stood and greeted her once he noticed her approach,
Shinji following suit.

    "Dr. Akagi completed analysis of the data we've gathered so far. 
I suggest you get yourselves something hot to eat and sleep if you can,
I'll want you at the command post in two hours."


11:30PM

    Shinji waited impatiently inside Eva-01 as the last minutes ticked
down.  Misato's assurance aside, the guilt of letting her down had
refused to abate even in the face of cold logic.  Exhaling slowly, he
took his hands off the control sticks to avoid an accident.  All it would
take would be one nervous twitch...

    The crew ferried in aboard the Leviathan that followed them from
Tokyo-3 had worked wonders in the time available.  Reapplying the ablative
outer layer of their machine's protection, trucking in fresh battery packs,
reloading weapons, the camp had been a veritable beehive as Misato's latest
brainstorm was transformed into reality.  During that time, he and Han
reviewed a 3-d map of the area with the Major until they almost didn't
need the cockpit displays.  Ironically, they were planning to practically
retrace their route in getting here, which should help in luring the Angels
into better terrain.

    Misato had called the basic principle a 'Parthian shot.' The idea
was to attack in turns, like they had before, but with the important
difference that they were only trying to keep the Angel following them
into an area of their choosing.  Then, and only then, would they turn
the tables.   

    "I hope she's right again.  It makes sense nothing good for
the Angel's energy sharing could come from putting a bunch of solid rock
between them, and maintaining their coordination will be a lot tougher
in the mountains than a flat plain.  But the past three months have been
one long demo of Murphy's Law."

   //Martin O'Donnell and Michael Salvatori "Halo Theme" _Halo OST_ //

    The timer blinked down to zero, and Shinji's finger tightened around
the trigger, sending a burst of 105mm sabot rounds howling into the
night.  In the false color image of the Eva's thermal imager, he traced
the projectiles' fiery path. 

    The response was not slow in coming.

---------

     Misato forced herself to radiate the calm confidence her staff
needed to see, as she gazed through the low light scope at the unfolding
battle. 

    But it was so hard. 

    Leaders lead, that was the core of her training.  As an enlisted
tanker so long ago, later a new minted lieutenant graduated from OCS,
and later still as a Captain teaching there, she knew that was the
minimum a UN soldier could expect.  Through the years she'd dozens of
superior officers in action, some brilliant and some barely competent,
but the defining feature of them all was that they ordered no risk they
were unwilling to share.

    And yet now, she couldn't.  The best Misato could do was make a
token gesture by moving her command post, and the knowledge of her
helplessness bit deep.  Right now the fate of the world hung not on her,
but on the skill and courage of two battle weary teenage boys.
  
    Who, so far, were performing exactly as she'd hoped. Taking turns
firing on the Angel halves, they forced them to follow or risk leaving an
undefeated enemy to their rear.  As the Evas withdrew along their
respective routes, her worst fear, that the Angels would rush them, didn't
seem to be coming true.  Wisely, they appeared unwilling to get themselves
in too deep too quickly.

    "Well done, Eva-06!  Move back another two hundred meters and do
it again," she encouraged after a particularly well placed shot split
the Beta's core down the middle.  Even as she watched, the wound began
to close, but if she wasn't mistaken... "Maya, how are we doing?"

    "Regeneration rate is down eleven percent.  It's working!" the
technician excitedly confirmed.

    Misato nodded, though the tech certainly couldn't see her from
a console in Tokyo-3.    "So far, so good, pilots, their regeneration
is slowing.  Eva-06, maintain course.  Eva-01, enter the ravine at your
four o'clock..."

----------   
       
    "...And continue suppressing fire.  Draw Alpha in as far as you
can."

    'That won't be hard,' Shinji snorted to himself.  His target had
been -delighted- to follow him wherever he went, which didn't show
spectacular judgment on its part. 

    Of course, this Angel didn't -need- much finesse.  Every shot
was like firing into raw dough, the wounds just flowed back together.
The only clue he'd had any effect at all was about a metric ton of Angel
matter splattered along the length of his retreat path as some of its
mass was blasted completely away. 'One ton down, six hundred odd to go...'
he thought with mingled nervousness and frustration. 

    Pausing to change clips in his rifle, Shinji imported the camera
view covering the bend concealing him.  He thanked whatever gods may be
that this Angel was more like his first opponent than the latter two.  The
only reason this plan had any hope of working was this monster's lack of
flight ability.  The tight quarters minimized Alpha's agility advantage,
while knowledge of the terrain and a string of ammunition dumps meant
Shinji could control when and how he engaged.   Misato had done her best
to stack the deck as much in her pilots' favor as humanly possible, now it
was up to them to make sure her effort wasn't in vain.

    Leapfrogging backwards once more as Alpha charged up its primary
weapons and blasted a chunk out of his cover, Eva-01 was about to reach
the end of the line.  Not too far to behind him was a relatively open,
though forested, clearing that would greatly enhance the Angel's freedom
of action.  Unfortunately the Angel knew it as well as Shinji, and
aggressively pressed forward to hasten their arrival.

    Until, as it was gathering itself for a leap, it stopped.  Some
critical combination of damage, distance, and obstruction had finally
been reached, and the link that bound the halves into a single whole was
severed in the blink of an eye.  Uncertainly, hesitantly, Alpha rose from
its crouch as if dazed, and took a single shuffled step back.  And another. 
And another.  Some instinct whispered to the boy warrior that this was no
trick, the signs were too clear, too well meshed, to be a deception. 

    And so even as his commander began to give the order, Eva-01 sprang
to the attack.  Emptying his rifle into the foe, Shinji then filled his
hands with a progressive knife and a pistol.  Using the one to blast gaping
holes in the bewilderd angel and tie up whatever local resources it had
on hand, the other readied the killing blow.  Angling the prog knife in
an underhand stab, Shinji zig-zaged as he closed, a trick learned from
Asuka the hard way.  He sideslipped a last desperate blast from the Angel's
beam cannon, and as the knife went home, the world went white.

----------      

    "****Ev*****repeat****" the static hissed in and out as electromagnetic
interference from the self-destructing Angel blanketed the spectrum.  Han
had salvoed his remaining HVMs into the Angel's core at the climax of his
comrade's knife charge, the simultaneous destruction of the two cores
seeming to have been the trigger for the suicidal act.  Shinji was becoming
a little too fond of that tactic for Misato's liking, she'd have to
reinforce the virtues of ranged combat at some point, after dealing with
an R&D section crestfallen from finding out samples would be extremely
skimpy from this expedition. 

    "****come in***jor Katsuragi." the static finally cleared as enough
debris settled for a communication laser to get through to the satellites
overhead.

    "Katsuragi here," Misato breathed a sigh of relief "Status report,
please."

    "Eva-01, moderate to major armor damage, nothing internal.  I'm
mobile."

    "Eva-06, moderate external, and I lost a chunk from my left arm."

    "Ok, we'll get that patched before we leave," she answered over the
outburst of cheers from the onlookers.  Shaking her head in wonder, she
continued "I'm not sure I believe it, but for once an op went according
to plan around here."


Nerv HQ
Tokyo-3
September 21, 2015
1:30AM Local Time

    Vengeance will be swift. 

    That was the first coherent thought in Han's mind since he'd stumbled
into his room directly from the airport.  The soft knocking on his door
brought him back from the very -edge- of dropping off for about a month,
if he had anything to say about it.

      Snarling something his mother would've been shocked to hear, the
bone-weary pilot hoisted himself out of bed and answered the door.

---------- 

    If a vision of handsomeness had been what Nami was expecting, she
would've been sorely disappointed.  Her boyfriend stood in rumpled boxers
and a t-shirt probably recycled from the dirty clothes pile, his hair
in tufts, and eyes threatening to slide closed any moment.

    It had to be said, he'd seen better days.

      "Hey. Sorry to wake you, I thought you'd still be up," the diminutive
pilot whispered.

    "I wasn't asleep yet, come in." Han stifled a yawn and batted at the
switch panel a few seconds before finally getting the lights on. 

    "No, I'll be quick.  Since someone obviously had better things to do
than come tell me he's back in town." Han's groan threatened to break her
annoyed girlfriend act, but she held firm. "And there's only -one-
punishment that fits the crime," she continued grimly.  Her heart melted
at the plaintive 'you've got to be kidding me!' look his expression rapidly
slid into.  Well, that was fixable, Nami decided as she took a step closer,
locked in her target, and sprang.
   
     "Can we -please- oomph!" his protest was summarily cut off by the
sudden and through immobilization of his mouth.  Relaxing into the warmth
of his embrace as Han began to return the kiss, she glowed within at the
knowledge he was safe once more.  Standing on her tiptoes, arms wrapped
around her partner's neck, she held it for a few more seconds before
gently breaking away, her hands sliding down to a more reachable height
on his chest.

    "And don't let it happen again," she warned him softly, a finger
poking into his sternum to drive the point home.  Suddenly grinning up
into his pleased though startled face, she leaned in close once more.

    "Welcome back."


       //Joe Satriani "Big Bad Moon" _Live in San Francisco_//
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's notes

    Not much to say about this chapter, except for the obvious point
that due to the new faces around the plot will start diverging some, though
not -too- much yet, from the show.  I like to think monkeying with a show's
plot is the whole point of a fic in the first place, so no surprises there.

    Many thanks to Arkiel Yien of Evafics, for his tireless efforts at
proofing this chapter. 

    Also, expect an increase in FMP specific happenings, as that cast
moves to share center stage with the Eva crew.
   
Soundtrack
Pat Benatar 'Invincible' _Greatest Hits_
Kenny Loggins 'Danger Zone' _Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow_
Martin O'Donnell and Michael Salvatori "Halo Theme" _Halo OST_
Joe Satriani "Big Bad Moon" _Live in San Francisco_

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