((L. von Beethoven))
(("Piano Sonata No.14, in C-sharp Minor, 'Moonlight', Op.27"))
The holographic tank taking up the center of the massive room
showed the situation in precise, clinical detail. The blue blocks,
representing units of the United Nations 5th Infantry Division
(Mechanized), blinked status codes that gave at a glance the general
condition of each. Makoto Hyuuga watched expressionlessly as another
block disappeared.
"This is useless." An anonymous general snarled. "Have even
numbered battalions fall back to the city perimeter, odds to cover
before following."
"Sir." Hyuuga responded, speaking urgently into the boom mike
of his headset, knowing what had to be coming.
The icons obeyed, half disengaging and pulling back, then the
others in a leapfrog pattern for the five kilometers to the new
positions.
'Today. It would -have- to be today.' Hyuuga thought semi-
hysterically. 'My CO is on some damned errand, our only pilot is
wounded, and of course this happens not thirty minutes from the end
of my shift!' "Sir, the blast zone is clear." He reported, far more
calmly than he felt.
"Very well. Signal the bomber to begin its run."
----------
Outside on the surface, the men and vehicles of the Fifth
found what cover they could, hunkering down facing away from the
blast. Moments later, a searing flash followed by a gust of gritty
wind and a shock felt as much as heard signaled the first field use
of an N2 device. As the wind and dust began to settle, officers and
noncoms chivvied their charges back into position for a coup de
grace, should it be needed. Everyone kept a weather eye on the slowly
dispersing wall of dust obscuring their opponent.
Second by second its condition became clear and, at last, its
observers knew despair.
----------
"No effect, repeat no effect." Hyuuga reported as a brave,
foolhardy VTOL pilot who had gotten far too close was swatted from
the sky, probably hoping to find some trace of significant damage.
---------
Battered, blackened, and generally the worse for wear the
Angel certainly was, but its combat effectiveness was in no way
impaired. While cannon and rocket fire slammed against it in a fiery
wave, it simply powered up its chest mounted beam weapon, responsible
less than an hour ago for the decimation of a battalion of main
battle tanks that met it on the beach, and scoured a company of light
tanks from the mountainside in a blaze of light.
----------
"That's done it." A colonel groaned, as the remaining blue
icons began a headlong retreat. Unconcerned, the creature turned its
attention to systematically bombarding the city defenses.
"Defense grid to cover the withdrawal." The general ordered,
slumped in defeat, as the muffled shockwaves of the bombardment
penetrated the command center's walls.
----------
Nearby, but until this moment unaffected by the struggle
raging above, a pair of dark blue eyes stared wide with shock into a
single one of red, hazed with pain. At the blood smeared across one
hand, and now pooling on the steel deck. At the monster silently
observing the tableau.
Furry Pigeon Productions presents:
But Loyal To Their Own: An Evangelion Elseworlds
By Andrew Lewis
Neon Genesis Evangelion characters copyright Gainax
Full Metal Panic! characters copyright Shouji Gatou
Han Fei, Samuel Roberts and all other characters copyright the author
All characters most definitely used without permission
Chapter 1- You May Not be Interested in War...
NERV-2
Stuttgart
Federal Republic of Germany
July 11, 2015
7:00AM Local Time
Ryoji Kaji was a man with a mission. As he strode through
NERV-Stuttgart's halls of Institutional Drab, his dress shoes
clacking softly on the tile floors, the chronically unshaven man
reflected that really he had no cause for complaint. After all,
unlike many of his assignments, this one was simple, straightforward,
and refreshingly free of subtext. This train of thought lasted only
until he reached his destination. For as he reached for the door he
couldn't help but remember that all too like his typical assignments;
this one's devils were firmly entrenched in the details.
Detail one was more commonly referred to as Asuka Soryu-
Langley, though she would, whether asked or not, hasten to add that
she was also the Second Child and designated pilot of Evangelion Unit
Two. Currently, she was clad in a sports bra and sweatpants and
giving a graphic demonstration to a heavy bag of just what she
thought of it.
Also present was her trainer, Lieutenant Gert Stuben, a tall,
almost gaunt, brown haired young man, currently resting against one
wall while keeping a firm green eye on the proceedings. Ryoji shared
a glance with her trainer as he moved to stand beside him, and paused
a moment to watch as well with a private, paternal smile. Though not
yet fifteen, Asuka moved with none of the awkwardness of many girls
her age, every one of the strikes and kicks were delivered with the
smooth precision of long practice. Upon completing her set, she let
out a breath as she brushed away the auburn bangs stuck to her
forehead, and turned to face Stuben before breaking into a broad
smile.
"Mr. Kaji! What brings you by?" She called happily and
trotted over.
"I need an excuse?" he grinned back
"No, but you usually have one anyway. Spill." She commanded.
"If you insist. Gert, I need to borrow your student for a
while."
"No problem sir, we were about done anyway." He nodded to the
two of them as he collected his clipboard and departed.
He had no sooner cleared the room than Asuka sidled up to Ryoji and
taken his arm for her own.
"So, where to?" she purred.
"Conference room 3" Kaji replied, completely ignoring Asuka's
disappointed pout. He produced a disc with his free hand. "I've got
something you'll find very interesting."
Tokyo 2
Japan
11:30AM
A fly on the wall would be getting an earful. A description
of the previous day's events had been presented on the projector
screen affixed to one wall, temporarily covering the darkly lacquered
wood paneling. A slim fingered hand, adorned only with a wedding
band, took up a sheet of paper from the matching table and read out:
Repairs to Tokyo 3 defense grid: 20 billion yen
Repairs to Tokyo 3 civilian structures: 12 billion yen
Repairs to Eva Unit One: 7 billion yen
"This on top of medical and disaster relief costs we have yet
to begin to calculate, not to mention last week's damage to Unit
Zero."
The speaker replaced her copy of the accounting of the
previous day's battle on the blotter before her and adjusted the
reading glasses adorning her cool, aristocratic features and
chocolate brown eyes. "This state of affairs cannot continue,
Director Ikari." The woman with the uncanny grasp of the obvious was
none other than Consuela Ibanez, Secretary General of the United
Nations.
"The unexpected costs of this operation over and above the
already extensive allocations to NERV are simply not sustainable. We
could quite literally feed a nation out of these expenses." The
Representative from Brazil, Pedro Silva, added. "True, we are no
longer in the lean years of the first decade, but there are limits.
Many nations, my own included, have yet to fully recover from the
Second Impact." His bass voice rose as his expression darkened. "It
does us little good to sink untold billions into your hole in the
ground while the rest of humanity suffers for it!"
If Gendou Ikari was at all moved by the passion in the last
statement, he certainly didn't let it show through the iron mask of
his normal expression.
"Indeed." He intoned before pausing, as if for thought. "And
yet I cannot help but believe that the very reason for the current
incompleteness of the Evangelion production models, the lack of
effective weapons for the defense grid, and the poor to nonexistent
cooperation NERV received prior to this incident, are the result of
many nations, yours included, seemingly unable to look beyond their
own petty desires." Gendo's voice had by this point dropped to
barely above a whisper, yet none had any difficulty making out the
chill beneath his next words. "It does us no good whatsoever if we
sink those untold billions into building warm and happy cities for
the Angels to annihilate without opposition."
Silva exploded from his chair, faster than his bulk would seem
to allow, red faced and readying a blistering reply when Ibanez's
voice cracked like a whip across the table. "-Mister- Silva." He
turned to her, agape, as she continued. "You will -return- to your
seat." He gave a glare of his own in reply, but subsided.
"Gentlemen, this is hardly the time to rehash old grudges."
Ibanez quirked a tiny smile. "That's what historians are for." A
wave of polite laughter swept the room. "We have other matters to
attend to. Director Ikari, NERV's latest estimates place units two
through seven over six months from completion. Is there any way to
accelerate the schedule?"
Gendo folded his hands on the table and replied "Yes, my
staff believes that our best option is to reallocate labor and
materials to three of the units. I concur with their recommendation;
better some Evas now than all of them too late."
"See to it then. I assume the search for pilots for the
machines is complete?"
"Yes, we will be contacting them shortly. They will begin
training by the end of the week."
The other council members nodded in approval, Gendo remained
still.
"Then that concludes the morning's business, meeting
adjourned." Over the scrape of chairs on carpet, the General
Secretary continued. "Thank you for your time gentlemen, ladies.
I'll expect you all at 2:00. Director, please remain a moment."
She waited until the doors closed behind the last of the
councilors before speaking. "All posturing aside, Silva's position
has considerable support, though the fact that the Angels have proven
to be a clear and present danger after all will help." She let her
works sink in a moment before continuing. "What will certainly -not-
help is another incident of this magnitude. We can find the funds to
cover your needs somewhere, but you need to deliver. Am I clear?"
Gendo calmly adjusted his glasses and replied "Perfectly."
"Excellent." She smoothly shifted mental gears to her next
line of questioning. "As I understand it, Unit Zero is unsuitable
for combat. I'm sure your son is a fine pilot or you wouldn't have
chosen him, however, he is only one boy. How quickly can the
selected production models be ready?"
Gendo frowned thoughtfully. "Even allowing for the teams from
The other units assisting with assembly, there are certain processes
which cannot be safely accelerated. I would estimate eight to ten
weeks before the furthest along units are combat ready."
"Two months." She sighed, before squaring her shoulders and
continuing briskly. "Very well, we'll simply have to hope Shinji can
handle Them for that long."
United Nations Atlantic Fleet Headquarters
Reykjavik, Iceland
July 13, 2015
7:00AM Local Time
The commotion in his outer office was expected. Not exactly
welcome, but comfortable in its own way. Alexei Kalinin ceased
typing at his terminal to listen more closely, one corner of his
mouth twitched upward on his weathered face while one eyebrow climbed
towards his graying hairline. In over ten years of friendship,
Kalinin had never heard Melissa repeat the same bit of invective
twice in a single tongue lashing; he was hoping she could keep the
streak alive.
He wasn't disappointed. While his clerk stammered on the edge
Of tears over the intercom that Sergeant Major Mao was here to see
him, all fifty-five kilos and generous measurements of the lady
herself were already barging through the door with a full head of
steam.
Pausing only for a quick salute, she began: "Sir! The
Sergeant Major would like to thank the Colonel for his consideration.
The Sergeant Major was not aware that vacations at NERV's
Massachusetts facility were such a hot commodity, sir!" She
continued in the same parade ground voice. "She was further unaware
that one was superior to a week in California, and would wish to be
enlightened as to in what ways this is so, sir!"
'Ah, she's in one of -those- moods.' Kalinin thought, before
replying with equal formality "I would be glad to, Sergeant Major.
At ease, please." He considered exactly how to handle this for a
moment, before finally deciding to take a page from his questioner's
book. "First, we can start by 'cutting to the chase' as it were.
You know I wouldn't cancel your leave unless it was important.
Believe it or not, this may be the most important assignment you'll
ever receive. You did read the packet you received with your
orders?"
"Yes sir." She bit out. "Spend the next few months turning
teenage apes into pilots of some sort. Same thing I do every day.
-Exactly- the same."
"Then it shouldn't be a challenge." Kalinin agreed, getting an
icy glare for his trouble. "And be honest Melissa, you'll arrive in
Sacramento on Monday, have yet another fight with your family on
Tuesday, spend the next two days in a bar because of it, and fly back
Friday night. What part of that can't you do by phone from Boston?"
Melissa grimaced, acknowledging the point. 'Good, she's
starting to wind down.' "It's not much, but I can sweeten the pot a
little. For the duration of your assignment you'll draw a hardship
bonus, so at least you'll have a little extra to throw around on your
next leave."
"Whenever that comes." Melissa grumbled. "Fine, I can't say I
like it, but what the hell, its not the first time for that by a long
shot."
"Glad to hear it. One further matter." Kalinin lifted
several files from the desk corner they'd perched upon. "NERV's
security on the pilots seems fairly good, but the lack of a close in
security presence concerns Admiral Bordas. We've selected these
candidates based on their age and fitness reports."
"But you'd like someone a little closer to the ground to take
a look." Melissa finished.
"Exactly. As you know, the pilots are all middle schoolers,
so try to select people who have a chance of blending in."
"Can do, I'll have a talk with a few of the gunnies before I
go. Will tomorrow work?"
"Perfectly. I can provide a goat if that will speed the
process." He deadpanned.
Melissa's eyes twinkled. "You know better than that, sir.
Only on the new moon. If that's all?"
He rose to see her out. "Yes, though I'll thank you to
apologize to my assistant on your way back."
Melissa snorted. "Not a chance, sir. Wherever you dug up
that jackass, I say throw him back. First thing he says when I walk
in is that the Strip is three blocks south of here."
"I see." Kalinin's eyes gleamed. "Is he still able to type,
or do I need a replacement for the next little while?"
"Oh, he's fine. Physically."
"Good enough. Give my best to Kurtz."
"Will do." She saluted again before closing the door behind
her.
Kalinin reseated himself behind his desk. Overall, he was
fairly pleased. He had been fully prepared to simply reiterate his
orders and send her on her way, but there was something to be said
for trying the carrot before applying the stick.
Hong Kong
People's Republic of China
July 14, 2015
6:45AM Local Time
It was, Nami reflected, just one of those days not worth
getting out of bed for. The day itself wasn't the culprit. Granted,
it was early yet, the sun still not quite above the horizon.
However, Hong Kong's city center could be seen, its skyscrapers
already gleaming in the morning sun. Nami knew perfectly well that
the city she gazed upon was a reproduction, the 'real' Hong Kong was
currently under several dozen meters of seawater, but why quibble?
Even so, pretty as the day was, it didn't bode on being a pleasant
one. She had a sense about these things.
It had begun not half an hour before with a phone call from
General Tien's office for Dad to begin packing for reassignment. As
she and her sister Tianhao had begun that endeavor, he had reported
to the division commander for orders. Five minutes ago he had
returned, and then the real fun began.
"Are they totally insane?" Tianhao finally asked in dawning
horror. "Where on earth is Karamay?!"
"Somewhere in the northeast; where exactly I have no idea."
Her father responded. "And before you ask, no I don't know why I'm
being assigned there." He shrugged. "Ours not to reason why, after
all."
Tianhao turned to Nami. "I wish you luck, my roommate is from
that area, nothing but high desert and the odd oil well as far as the
eye can see."
"Your compassion is overwhelming." Nami replied with a sour
grimace. "I'm sure you'll try to keep us in mind while you're living
it up in the capital."
Her father chuckle reverberated through his square frame. "I
see you two are adapting as well as ever." He checked his watch.
"Now then, you still have packing to do, and I have transfer forms to
deal with."
"Fine, fine. We'll get on it, Father." Tianhao replied as she
herded her sister back into their partially completed room.
"Good girl. I'll be back by noon." And with that, Jiang Lin
was gone.
Silence reigned for a few moments as the sound of the door
closing faded, before Nami resumed the task at hand. "Sis, I think
you'd better do the closet, I can't get up there." She didn't bother
to glance behind her, knowing exactly what she'd find. "And quit
smirking like that!"
"Me, smirk at you? I'd never do such a thing, little sister."
"We can't all be overdeveloped boy magnets." Nami snarled
back.
Tianhao smiled sympathetically. "You'll find out yourself
soon enough."
"The day can't come soon enough. I'm sick of being mistaken
for an elementary school kid." Nami muttered as she opened their
shared dresser.
Silence returned for an encore, before Nami spoke once again.
"So, who'd Dad piss off I wonder."
"Who knows." Tianhao snorted. "There's a good reason why all
the universities I applied for are in Beijing. I've had my fill of
postings to the middle of nowhere."
Nami gave her sister her best wounded look. "And so
abandoning me to my fate. You're a real sweetheart."
Tianhao poked her head out of their closet. "What are you
complaining about, you like traveling, seeing the world and all
that."
"Well sure, but with you gone who's going to keep me company?"
Nami asked plaintively.
"You mean cover for your shenanigans." Tianhao replied with a
skeptical look.
"Well, if you want to be blunt about it, that too." Nami
replied, focusing on folding one of her school uniforms.
Tianhao shook her head. "Look sis, I know you never learned
the whole curiosity/cat thing, but for my sake, if not yours, keep a
lid on it please?" She continued in a firmer voice. "One near miss
with the MPs is plenty."
Nami looked up to meet her sister's eyes, who held them a long
moment. She nodded. "Ok, I'll behave."
"All I can ask."
Oklahoma City
United States of America
July 15, 2015
1:00PM Local Time
A Lockheed P-38L Lightning howled through the skies above a
war torn Europe, furiously pursued by an example of its arch nemesis,
the Messerschmitt Bf 109F. The Lockheed exploited its superior speed
to pull away from its foe, while sideslipping to dodge furious bursts
of gunfire. Finally, its pilot felt confident enough in his lead to
turn upon his tormentor and even the odds. Avgraceful Immelmann
maneuver placed him for a head to head pass, seconds later there was
a winner and a loser.
Samuel Roberts keyed his microphone. "Lucky shot, Tom."
The grin of his opponent was practically audible. "There is
no luck, only skills."
"Say that to my windshield, Mr. 'Area Denial' shooter."
"I've said it before, precision is overrated. It just takes
too long to line up shots like you do."
Sam leaned back in his battered wooden chair and took his feet
off the rudder pedals. "Funny, I remember that precision bein'
pretty useful once against that 'spray and pray' you call gunnery.
When was that?" Sam grinned and replied over Tom's grumbling, "Oh
yeah...Tuesday."
"I was distracted." Tom protested.
"I'd say that too. Up for 'nother game?"
"Nah, Kim's wedding's at two. Mom's been glaring at me these
last couple minutes."
"Heh, so today's the day then. I'll catch ya later."
"See ya."
Sam closed Warbirds V and sat back up in his chair before his
computer, enjoying a nice stretch as he idly wondered when Gramps
would get home. He'd promised a trip to the range if he made it in
by 1:30, but so far no luck. In search of entertainment, sustenance,
or even both; Sam wandered into the kitchen, stretching to his full,
though modest, height, and browsed the selections a moment before
deciding a little music might be in order as well. His musings were
interrupted by the doorbell.
"Mike, get that will ya."
"Why?"
"Because," Sam patiently explained "you're five feet from the
door."
Mike, little brother extraordinaire, lurched to his feet and
replied. "Yes, master. Igor obey, Igor answer door for master..." as
he hobbled to the front door. Sam ran a hand through a sheaf of
dishwater blond hair and wondered if maybe that B grade horror movie
marathon they'd had was such a good idea after all, before finally
deciding on a simple glass of orange juice.
His mother's puzzled voice squelched that particular line of
thought. "Sam? Someone here for you."
Questions were already forming in Sam's mind as he heeded his
mother's call. He entered as a plump, forty year old brunette
finished introducing herself as Sandra Roberts, and asked if the
stranger, a youngish man with short dark hair and a lean, almost
acerbic face awaited him, clad in some sort of tan and red uniform,
and bearing what looked like a captain's bars on his lapels, would
care for a drink.
The visitor rose and extended a hand. "Hello, Samuel. I'm
Captain John Sparrow, and I have an offer I believe you'll be
Interested in hearing."
----------
Sam pondered as he lay in bed that night. There really was
what his friend Rob liked to call a 'binary solution set.' He could
refuse, no one would blame him. The good captain could simply make
the same pitch to some other fool, as he'd very likely done before he
came here. He'd be home, and safe, and so would everyone else, he
wasn't egotistical enough to think the world would perish without
him. He would be more than happy to keep up on the war via CNN, just
like everybody else.
But. There was always that nagging little but. After all,
hadn't he been taught, practically since he could walk, that you
don't make your own problems someone else's problems? That you get
help if you need it, but at the end of the day it's up to you to get
the job done? He had very clear memories of how Mom and Gramps'
punishments had always been worse when he'd tried to pass the buck,
and only recently had he begun to understand why. How then, to
justify stepping aside and leaving it to the next guy in line?
And then there was that little voice. Deep down, but just
barely audible, one that seemed to whisper wordlessly, 'You always wanted
to know if you had what it takes, if you're good enough. Here's your
chance.'
Finally, in the small hours of the morning he made up his
mind. If he wanted to be able to look at himself in the mirror, then
his decision was all but a forgone conclusion.
He raised his head from his arms and spoke to the darkened
room. "I've gotta be the biggest fool alive."
Karamay
People's Republic of China
July 16, 2015
6:50AM Local Time
Nami was pleasantly surprised. From Tianhao's somewhat
lengthier description after they'd finished packing for the move,
she'd expected to arrive at some sort of destitute outpost of
civilization amidst the wilderness. There was plenty of destitute
wilderness in the area, to be sure, but the city was, if not a
bustling metropolis, at least moderately interesting.
It was then, unfortunate that in this interesting city, she
was also living in the most 'interesting' of times. Last night had
been a case in point. It was fortunate that Tianhao had needed to
return to Beijing to begin her prerequisite courses for university
the day after their move, the conversation last night had been
unpleasant enough as it was. The crux of the issue was that while
Nami was a good patriotic girl, she had no particular desire to be
cannon fodder. Her father sympathized with her feelings, but had
argued the contravening position that, like it or not, as one of the
few who could pilot an Eva, her duty called. The end result of the
night's discussion was obvious; she was here under her own power
after all. She'd be damned if she'd admit he was right, though.
((Joe Satriani "One Big Rush" _Flying in a Blue Dream_)
'Here' was currently a fenced compound just outside the city,
complete with razor wire, guard towers, and men with submachine guns
who didn't appear to mind the thought of using them. With these
cheerful thoughts in mind, Nami watched as her bus was waved through
the gate into the NERV complex. Inside, it reminded Nami of the many
similar facilities she'd lived in or near over the years, a bustle of
activity purposeless to outsiders but having the greatest importance
to those involved, a sea of uniforms both of an unknown but mostly
tan colored variety as well as the more familiar mottled People's
Liberation Army fatigues. The latter looked to comprise most of a
motor rifle brigade if the patch of the base she viewed was
representative. Her sightseeing was brought short by the jerk of the
bus halting at its assigned terminal. Nami's short stature put her
at something of a disadvantage in crowded quarters like this, as the
adults squeezed through the aisle to disembark, but she managed.
That act left her on a rapidly emptying roofed platform,
thoughtfully set one step above the road on stilts. 'Well, now
what?' she wondered a moment, tucking an errant strand of her long
black hair behind an ear, before the sound of someone clearing his
throat interrupted her. Nami turned to find a squat, grim looking
man in one of those odd uniforms. After ascertaining that she was
indeed 'Miss Lin' he introduced himself as Sergeant Jin and requested
she follow him.
After following him nearly a minute, she finally broke down
and asked as she slid into the passenger seat of his jeep, "Where
exactly are we going?"
"Right now, headquarters." Jin replied as the jeep's engine
coughed to life. "I'm to see to your quarters assignments, then we
meet your comrade over at the Eva hangars for orientation. They'll
provide you and him with a schedule for the rest of your time here."
Nami grinned. "Does 'he' have a name?"
"Yes, Han Fei." Jin replied. "He arrived late last night."
"Then we'd better not keep him waiting."
----------
Quarters assignments proved disappointingly easy, her father
living in town after all, and without further ado Sergeant Jin parked
his vehicle outside what had to be one of the largest buildings Nami
had ever seen. In height it was no more than middling tall by Hong
Kong standards, and resembled a ribbed cylinder half buried in the
ground lengthwise, but by sheer floor space it was enormous, the
doors alone looked the size of a soccer field from her vantage.
Nami mentally whistled. 'When that NERV guy said -giant-
robot, he wasn't kidding.'
Jin led her inside through a human sized door next to the main
doors, and for a time any efforts at conversation would have been
drowned out by the cacophony of a factory at full output. Jin
finally stopped at an office near the middle of the cylinder, up
against one wall, and motioned her inside before taking his leave.
Once the door closed, the sound level immediately dropped to
something bearable, and Nami took in her new surroundings. The room
was obviously an office, a sturdy, utilitarian steel desk with chair
taking up one side of the room, with a computer terminal perched on
one corner. Before the desk were two chairs, one currently occupied
by a serious looking boy near her age. Two men were behind the desk.
The large, balding man glanced up upon her entry, and distractedly
gestured for ami to sit as he tapped at the desk's built in keyboard.
The other calmly observed her from his position standing against the
wall. He continued a few moments, before apparently finishing.
"Miss Lin, I am Li Yao, director of NERV-Karamay." The balding
man began. "I'd like to introduce Mr. Fei, your counterpart from
Shanghai." He gestured to the boy occupying the other seat. "The
two of you will be training together in the operation of the
Evangelion units under construction at this facility. Currently,
Unit Six is on an accelerated schedule, due to be completed in sixty
days. The two of you will ship out with it to Japan at that time."
He gave a small smile. "So study hard. I'll be checking up on the
two of you from time to time, but for now I leave the rest in the
capable hands of your training officer, Mr. Tzu. Good luck."
The man standing to the director's right spoke "If you'll both
come with me, we'll take a quick tour before we begin our more
serious business."
NERV-3
Boston
United States of America
July 16, 2015
8:30AM local time
'Well, it certainly looks the part of a secret base.' Tessa
mused as she waited, toying with her ash blonde braid. Her small
boned, rather pretty face gazed upwards, pale blue eyes squinting a
little at the distance. Above her rose a mid sized grassy hill, with
a massive set of double doors built incongruously into the south
side. Sitting leaning against the chain link fence ringing the base
of the hill and dividing it from the small town growing near its
slopes, she could see how it could easily be mistaken for an
abandoned facility from the bad old days.
"Except for the shiny new fencing hanging from the old
concrete posts. Whose bright idea was that?" she snorted, checking
her watch again for the nth time.
Finally, the sounds of a small gas engine drifted from the
road leading to the doors, followed soon enough by an open topped
white golf cart. Tessa rose from her spot, dusted off the seat of
her jeans and twitched her bright green t-shirt straight, before
shouldering her duffel bag as it braked to a stop at the gate. Only
then did she get a good look at the driver of the vehicle.
She was in short, stunning. In spite of probably being in her
late forties, the driver possessed big, almond shaped, clear light
brown eyes, a face that in spite of the crow's feet beginning to form
around the eyes was still beautiful and well framed by the slightly
windblown short black pageboy she wore her hair in, and a figure that
was both tall for an Asian woman and made Tessa feel downright
inadequate.
'Where is the justice?' she complained silently.
"Teletha Testarossa? I'm Sergeant Major Mao. Sorry about the
wait, we're all running a little behind today. If you'll come with
me?" The barrier raised to let her through, and Tessa took a seat
next to the attractive NCO.
"So, what's the plan?" Tessa asked as they motored back up the
hill.
"Mostly settling in and orientation this morning. Afterwards,
the fun begins." Mao grinned. "I hope you packed your running
shoes."
She hadn't packed running shoes. After all, the Evas were
controlled by the pilot's mind. Logically, the only physical part of
piloting should be running to and boarding the machine, Tessa had
thought. Right?
((The Mighty Mighty Bosstones "The Impression That I Get"))
Wrong.
Unfortunately, one of the techs wore her shoe size and was
just delighted to lend a pair to her for the day. Even better, the
road leading from the gate to the main doors was almost exactly a
kilometer long. And the trip back up the 30% grade was proving far,
far worse than the trip down.
'I'll have to thank 'Technician 1c Launders' later. With a
brick.' Tessa would've gasped, if she'd had the breath for it. She
had to settle for thinking it extra loud instead. It helped a
little, for a moment she could almost forget the burning in her
calves, and the scrapes on her knees, and the bruises on her...
Mao's megaphone enhanced voice broke into her reverie. "You'd
better start moving your ass, Roberts! I saw my Gramma move faster
than that at her funeral!"
'And there's another thing, if I have to be here with that
harpy barking at me, running like a sled dog, supposedly being
trained to save the world, you'd think they could be troubled to
provide a little better scenery!' Tessa complained to an uncaring
universe. Oh, Sam was cute enough, in a lanky, boy next door sort of
way. But come on, surely they could've found a more heroic looking
specimen somewhere. But, it could be worse. He was at least
obviously male. She'd thought the kid piloting in Japan right now
was another girl for a moment until she'd deciphered his name.
'At least I wasn't the one who actually asked what 'her' name
was.' Tessa snickered as she approached the top of the hill.
Mao paused her stopwatch, frowning at the reading, as Tessa
staggered past nearly a minute behind Sam's own less than stellar
time. "Ok. Chiclets, you have some work to do. We're not trying to
make Marines out of you, but this is just sad."
Tessa raised up slightly from her currently doubled over
position. "Ma'am, may I ask a question?" she gasped.
"Certainly, just don't expect an answer." Mao responded.
Tessa blinked momentarily, and then intercepted her train of
thought. "I was told the Evas were mentally controlled."
"They are." Mao agreed.
"Then why do we need to do this?" Tessa asked in frustration.
"We're not living a mile from the launch bays or something are we?"
"No, but exercise brings improvements in balance and
coordination, important when piloting a 700+ ton war machine, yes?"
Mao queried pleasantly.
They nodded.
"Also, it builds discipline and fortitude, both of which
you'll need all you can get when the time comes." Her previously
friendly, lecturing tone sharpened to a far harder thing as she
continued, "Care to guess what the final reason is?"
Sam took the plunge after a moment. "Because you say so,
ma'am?"
"Bingo." Mao nodded. "Take a couple minutes breather, and
then this round I'd better see fifteen seconds off your times or you
won't like what I have planned for our next activity."
Sam's mouth opened fractionally before he apparently thought
better of his response, the two chorused resignedly. "Yes, ma'am."
NERV-2
Stuttgart
July 17, 2015
11:30AM local time
Asuka Soryu-Langley was in a snit. Normally this wouldn't be
cause for comment, but this morning she was outdoing herself. As she
stormed through the entrance to the beige corridors of the NERV
dormitory containing her foster parent's apartment, she seethed at
the response to her perfectly reasonable requests.
"Murphy was an optimist." She muttered. "First, the enemy
that I've only spent the last eight years of my life training to
fight has finally arrived...on the other side of the world." Asuka
continued as she entered the stairwell and stomped upwards, her red
skirt swirling around her knees. "Worse, the weapons designed to
combat said enemies are at best two months from completion, never
mind being operational." She stomped a little harder, causing her
white short sleeved blouse to bounce intriguingly to any onlookers.
"Worse still, what weapons are available, however inferior they might
be, I can't use!" She snarled, her voice amplified by the echoes
from the concrete shaft. "Even better, those weapons are usable by
both my comrade in arms/arch rival, and now some yokel they pulled
off the street!" She nearly shrieked the last, as she arrived at the
landing for her floor. "And where the hell did he come from anyway?!
Barbie is the only Japanese pilot on record! Alles nicht in
ordnung!" (Everything is not in order!) She proclaimed perhaps the
most damning indictment of the situation a German could give. "And
so, here I am, twiddling my thumbs at home while the newbie gets
fawned over like some sort of hero." She finished bitterly. "And
just to top it all off, the Powers That Be In Charge have decided
that 'the First Child and the Operations Director are more than
capable of giving the new pilot adequate instruction.'" She quoted to
herself in a sing-song voice. "Katsuragi maybe, but that wind up
toy? Ha!" She scoffed. "They'd be better off using a Speak n'
Spell."
Finally, she arrived at her destination, after a few deep,
calming breaths, she found the door unlocked, and entered.
"Asuka?" queried a female voice.
"Yes?" She responded chirpily.
"Just in time. I need a head of cabbage for dinner, would you
run to the store please?"
"Yes, Hilde." came the cheerful response.
"Good girl. There's a 5 euro bill in my purse, I'll even let
you keep the change."
Asuka twirled a finger above her head in lethargic
celebration, safe from detection. "Back in a few." She called as she
exited.
"Tell me how your meeting went when you get back." Hilde
called after her.
'I don't think I can do that in words you'd approve of.'
Asuka snorted
Cabbage in hand, Asuka entered the kitchen twenty minutes
later. She was met by a short, squat brunette in her forties with a
pleasant, open face, green eyes surrounded by the beginnings of
crow's feet. "Thank you, dear. So, what happened?"
Asuka dropped into one of the chairs surrounding the small
table. "Exactly what I hoped wouldn't." She said in some
bitterness. "I am not to be assigned to the Chinese, American, or
Japanese branches. I am to sit here like a good little girl and wait
my turn." she pouted.
"I admit I can't see what good you could do in China, you not
speaking Mandarin or they German or Japanese." Hilde remarked.
"I know, but it was worth a try." Asuka sighed. "I could
have trained the Ami pilots, one of them speaks German." Her voice
dropped to a near whisper. " It would be better than staying here."
Hilde diplomatically ignored the last sentence. "So you have
to wait a little longer to mount your steed and tilt at windmills.
So what? Unless you think its better to be first than best?" she
inquired neutrally.
"No." Asuka grated.
"Then since you're claiming to be a professional, act like
one. The fact you don't like your orders doesn't mean you don't
follow them." She pointed at the stack of plates in the cupboard.
"Just like you won't like this one."
Hilde glanced at Asuka ferrying the table settings for the two
Of them to the next room before turning back to her cutting board.
She still remembered the nightmare Hamburg had been fifteen years
earlier, the desperate evacuations and the rescue efforts that seemed
to save only a tithe of those in need. As a young nurse she'd
believed only a war could be worse, as a matron and now homemaker she
knew she'd been right. Who would want to journey into that?
Tokyo 3
Japan
July 17, 2015
6:00 PM Local Time
In the week he'd been living in his new home, Shinji Ikari had
come to several conclusions.
One, his roommate was either a raging alcoholic or did an
excellent impersonation.
Two, his other roommate was flippers down the oddest thing he'd
seen in his fourteen years of life.
Three, at some point Shinji was going to figure out whether he
was living every teenager's dream, or a nightmare he couldn't wake up
from. He was fairly sure he wouldn't know definitively until...
Four, his day job, and the less said there the better, finally
squashed his sanity like a beer can under a locomotive.
"I hope whatever malevolent deity that dropped me into this
situation is enjoying itself. I'd hate to think this was all for
nothing." Shinji's sigh was audible over the sound of the water
running from the tap to the sud filled sink. The slam of the outside
door interrupted further introspection.
"I'm back!" a female voice chirped from the entryway.
"Welcome home, Cap...Misato."
The middling height, curvaceous woman who entered the kitchen
declined to comment on his slip. "Oh good, you haven't started
dinner." she commented on seeing the soaking dishes. "Help yourself,
I've got takeout. And a surprise!" she winked on the way back to her
room.
Curiosity piqued in spite of himself, Shinji did as instructed
and waited at the table for her return. Not long afterwards, Misato
did so clad in her off duty outfit of cutoffs and a tank top, and
bearing a plate of stir fried vegetables and the apparently required
can of her favorite brew. And a manila folder, Shinji noticed
belatedly as she took her seat across from him.
"Dinner first, Ritsuko will skin me if we get anything on
these." Misato instructed as she placed the folder well out of
harm's way. "So, how was your first day?"
Shinji's hand twitched to his jaw, before returning to his
lap. "Nothing much happened."
"Mm." Misato replied, noting the red mark midway down his
lower jaw. "Anyway, we'll have some new arrivals a couple days from
now."
"Who? More pilots?" Shinji asked, with curiosity in his voice.
"We should be so lucky." Misato grimaced. "Not to say you're
doing a badjob, but we can always find a use for more warm bodies."
She clarified a moment later. "These three are a pair of UN Marines
and a Navy pararescue jumper."
Shinji nodded, a little disappointed but, he was surprised to
find, a little relieved. Having a sailor in the group was odd, but
then he'd seen a documentary when he was still at home about the UN
military that mentioned the rescue jumpers for medical helicopters as
having weapons training, since most places they were likely to go
tended to use a red cross for target practice.
"They'll be moving in downstairs on the ninth floor, and be
staying nearbyin case you need them during the day." Misato
continued.
"Even at school?"
"Two of them are young enough to pass, so yes." Misato
stacked the dishes out of the way and dragged the folder over. "But
that's enough of that. Now for the main attraction." She riffled
through the contents, and straightened into a more upright posture as
she laid out several of the sheets face down like a card dealer.
"Pilot Ikari." She spoke, this time in the voice that left no doubt
of her authority to command. "This is the only briefing you will
receive on this subject, so pay attention." She turned over the first
sheet, to reveal a grainy black and white photo of an all too
familiar figure. "This photo was taken fifteen years ago, part of
the last transmissions of a small research outpost in Antarctica."
"Is that an Eva?!" Shinji exclaimed in disbelief.
"No. -That- was the cause of death for three billion people."
Misato corrected coldly. "It's codename is Adam. The first of the
Angels."
"But..."
"Save your questions for the end, please." Misato turned over
the second sheet, showing a gloss black object, looking like a
slightly flattened egg against a backdrop of the night sky. "This
photo was taken in 2003. At that time, the then under construction
Distant Early Warning arrays detected an object on an intercept
course for Earth. What got immediate attention was that it was
decelerating." Another photo turned over, this time unmistakable as
anything except a nuclear fireball. "As you can imagine, nobody was
willing to take chances." She explained dryly. The last photo was
familiar, a group shot of Evas 00 and 01 in their cages. "The rest
is pretty straightforward. Most of the Eva tech came from the
salvage of the second object's wreckage." She gathered up the photos
and replaced them in the folder. "Now you can ask."
For someone who had just had the history of the single most
important event of the last generation turned on its head and run
through a spin cycle, Shinji recovered fairly quickly. "So then, the
Second Impact...the asteroid impact and everything...was all a fake?"
Misato nodded. "I don't think anybody dared tell the whole
story once all the pieces got put together. We were all still
reeling from Round One, togo and say that that was just the scouting
party..." She shrugged. "There'll be hell to pay for it now, but
it's hard to blame 'em."
Shinji reluctantly agreed. As he stared away from Misato in
thought, his eye fell upon a framed 5x7 photo he hadn't noticed
before. "New picture?"
"Oh, that." Misato replied, apparently just as happy to
change the subject. "No, I've had that for a long time." She got up
and retrieved it from its perch on top of the smaller refrigerator.
"This is from when I was stationed in Italy." Shinji studied the
photo, showing a grinning Misato, slightly younger than the present,
with several men of various nationalities about the same age posing
against the flank of an eight wheeled light tank. The letters UN were
painted on the side of its small turret, with a surprisingly good
rendition of an eastern style dragon coiled just behind the long
cannon snouting from the front and the word Dragonsbreath spelled out
in hiragana just underneath.
"My first crew." Misato explained. "I was twenty-three, and
there I was with my very own platoon. I thought I was at the top of
the world." She took back the picture and laid it face up on the
table as she contemplated it, before speaking again. "Scary
sometimes, how long ago that seems. If you don't mind an old lady's
ramblings, I'll tell you about it."
Shinji registered the sharp change in his roommate's demeanor,
from the half party girl, half professional soldier he usually saw
and was so confused by, with more than a little shock. He hesitated
a long moment, and then nodded agreement. "Ok.
Misato smiled, and took up the picture again. "Well, a few
weeks after this was taken, we were deployed to Tunisia, and ..."
NERV-3
Boston
10:00PM Local time
Melissa Mao was, for the moment, content. Her shot glass
emblazoned with the USMC logo held two fingers of Jim Beam, her
paperwork for the day was done, and her feet were comfortably encased
in a pair of thick socks, propped up on her bed while she leaned back
in her room's issue plain wooden chair, the local radio station
playing in the background.
"Now why won't I just believe that and relax?" She snorted at
herself. "You know damned well why." She'd reviewed the full,
revised, final training syllabus for the pilot candidates, and the
results horrified her.
"Nine weeks. They go into combat, ready or not, in nine
weeks." She repeated to herself, not for the first time. "They didn't
let me out of Parris Island for twelve, and all I was responsible for then
was me, not the fate of the whole goddamn world!" She drained off half of
the glass, and contemplated the rest for long minutes. The whole setup,
from rushed training to the crash production priority, offended every
professional bone in her body, but the hell of it was; she honestly
couldn't think of an alternative. Not after the other part of her
briefing, specifically, the status of the Japanese pilots.
"Kurtz would have a field day with this." She finally
commented ruefully. "A bunch of crazy kids facing down god-awful
odds with no backup. Just like old times, he'd say." She finished
off her shot and set the glass aside. "Might as well make a last
round before lights out."
Melissa slowed her pace to a slow, silent tread as she neared
the adjoining rooms set aside for her charges, alert for anything
unusual. She'd left orders for the tech monitoring the microphones
to contact her if anything significant happened, but an unscheduled
personal check was never a bad idea.
'Good, no screams, bangs, or blistering tirades.' she chuckled
as she paused outside Tessa's room a moment. Only the sound of deep,
even breathing answered her ear at the door, so she poked her head
in.
Tessa had appeared to have wrapped herself up like a sausage
in the sheets, only a tendril of silvery hair exposed on the pillow.
Melissa closed the door quietly, before moving to the next room.
Here she didn't bother putting her ear to the door; the racket coming
from this room indicated its occupant was well and truly zonked. A
glance inside confirmed the finding, Sam sprawled face down in his
pillow with one arm hanging off the edge of the narrow mattress, the
other twisted into what had to be an awkward position across his
back. Again, she closed the door quietly, before beginning the trip
to her own room. Allowing herself a soft smile, she whispered.
"Rest well, children. Tomorrow will be a busy day."
NERV-4
Karamay
July 18, 2015
7:00AM Local Time
"All systems nominal here, ready to begin sequence." In
contrast to his expectations from movies, Tzu's voice came through
Han's helmet earphones clearly, with none of the dramatic crackle he
expected.
"All clear here, Control. Ready at any time." He responded,
voice still a little raw from its first immersion in LCL.
Outside the test plug, Nami stood with the tech crew, clad in
her own tan and green plugsuit as she waited her turn. Mr. Tzu stood
beside the microphone with the supervisor, his apparent uniform of a
blue track suit immaculate as always. The litany continued as the
systems came online and connected to the simulated neurosystems. As
borderline approached, Tzu's knuckles whitened behind his back. Nami
didn't blame him. She'd seen the video of Eva 00's disastrous
routine test two weeks ago. The sim plugs were incapable of
delivering that level of physical violence to their surroundings, but
their pilots were every bit as vulnerable to neurological trauma as
Ayanami had been.
"Borderline cleared!" The man at the board announced.
"Synchrograph rising...stabilizing at twenty one percent."
Tzu nodded. "Very well. Fei, if you're ready we'll..." he
was interrupted by the sound of retching reproduced in high fidelity
by the expensive speakers.
'Aha, so -that's- why Tzu told us to skip breakfast.' Nami
nodded sagely.
----------
Nami's turn came soon enough, though with Han's forewarning
she'd been ready for the disturbing sensation of the LCL entering her
lungs, and the surge of vertigo at borderline. Now, her cockpit
displays showed a plain, grassy field stretching to the horizon, with
a few scattered clouds in the sky and a low mountain range in the
distance.
'Pretty place, whoever programmed it has a nice touch.'
Nami's contemplation was interrupted by Tzu's voice in her
neurohelmet's earphones.
"We'll begin with basic movement. Focus on the concept of
walking, and after one hundred meters, stop."
"Yes, sir." 'Ok, concept of walking. Well, if Han can do
it...' the virtual Eva 06 took a hesitant step forward, then another,
soon reaching the prescribed distance.
"Good. Now, turn ninety degrees right, and do it again.
Eventually I want a square one hundred meters on a side.
Nami complied, after sorting out a near tangle of her suddenly
supersized feet.
'About time for those years on the balance beam to pay off.'
Nami smirked, after avoiding another tangle at the next turn.
"Well done, as you can see, it's more difficult than it
appears." Tzu congratulated her. "Now, take a look at your
forearms. You'll notice a knife handle on the back of them. Draw a
knife."
As the handle cleared the sheath, a box cutter like blade
extended from the handle, before emitting an ultrasonic buzz, and a
faint vibration into the palm of her right hand.
"That is the progressive knife, the primary melee weapon of
the production model Evas. As you can see, the blade activates upon
use, and retracts when not needed."
A rough humanoid shape appeared fifty meters in front of Nami.
"Take a few practice swings at the dummy to get a feel for the Eva's
movements, and then we'll setup an obstacle course."
Nami stepped into range, and took a slash at the 'angel.'
NERV-3
Boston
12:00PM Local Time.
"Well, its not every day I see that happen to an office
building." Tessa remarked from her position behind Sam.
"Shut up or you won't live to see it again." Sam growled.
"And you're one to talk, 'Tessa the Impaler.'"
"It would've been a lot more impressive if you'd managed to
skewer something other than yourself with that spear." Melissa
agreed from in front of the pair.
Tessa drooped. "I'll do better next time, ma'am."
"You'll -both- do better." Melissa corrected sharply. "Or
you'll both be finding out what nasty really means."
Somehow, neither was inclined to argue.
----------
After lunch and 'happy hour', which since Melissa used it to
describe their afternoon long physical training was two lies for the
price of one, Sam stared in horror at their latest challenge. And
such an innocent looking one, too. After all, how horrible can a
single, not particularly thick, soft cover book be?
"Conversational Japanese?!" Sam exclaimed.
"Correct. NERV Headquarters is in Japan, most of the
personnel are Japanese, and therefore you two will learn the
language."
"Um, ma'am?" Tessa questioned respectfully.
"Yes, I know you went to school in Okinawa and speak Japanese
already." Melissa answered her. "Which is why you'll be assisting
Roberts here in learning. I hope for your sake you're a good'
teacher, because starting the day after tomorrow, I'll be expecting
responses to basic questions in it. And if you want to eat in the
cafeteria, you'd -both- better be able to tell the cook what you want
in it or you'll -both- be going hungry that meal. Questions?"
Sam's horror was rapidly transmuting to outrage through the
explanation, he immediately burst out "Absolutely! Ma'am, I can
live with the PT, and the sims, and even the lousy food, but this is
just nuts!" Sam shouted. "It takes months at least to learn a new
language, I took Spanish for a year and still can't get very far past
'how are you, lovely weather we're having.'" He paused for breath to
continue, but Melissa was ready for him.
"That will be enough, Mister Roberts." she cut off his tirade
with a tone as hard as the reinforced concrete of the walls. "For
future reference, the correct answer to that question is generally,
'No, ma'am.' Under -no- circumstances is it 'I'm gonna whine like a
little bitch.'"
She turned to Tessa. "Testarossa, you have a date with the
simulator. I expect to see results."
"Yes, ma'am" she answered quickly, carefully looking straight
ahead.
Melissa turned back to Sam. "As for you..." She smiled.
Sam knew right then to be afraid, -very- afraid.
----------
It was two a.m. and Sam now knew that there were exactly
twenty bathrooms of both genders, with a grand total of eighty
toilets, ten urinals and, if his shoulders were to be believed what
had to be a square mile of floor and wall tiles, in NERV-3. The
disgustingly cheerful voice hailing him from the adjoining room as he
dragged into the (21rst) bathroom connecting them was not helping.
"Free at last, Cinderfella?" Tessa teased, obviously
comfortable in her shorts and t-shirt.
Sam roused a spare scrap of consciousness to reply "What are
you doing awake?"
"Some pre-emptive studying."
"For what? All we've got is that language book."
"And that's what I'm studying." At Sam's confused look, she
continued "Not for me, but since I happen to like the cafeteria I did
a little work on the side." She slid off the end of her bed and
padded over. "Here, this should help." she handed Sam a small spiral
notebook, divided into three columns; it had a standard Japanese
phrase, its phonetic pronunciation in English, and its translation.
"I had to guess a bit, but that should cover the basics." She
explained.
Sam produced his first genuine smile since he'd woken up that
morning.
"Thanks."
Tessa fidgeted a bit "No problem. A girl's gotta eat, you
know."
Sam chuckled as he tucked the notebook under one arm. "If you
say so. I don't know what we did to Canada, but that bacon this
morning was an act of war."
Tessa laughed, and turned back to her room. "Picky, picky.
'night Sam."
----------
Melissa handed the spare earphones back to the tech on duty,
and left the room with a smile of her own.
NERV-4
Karamay
7:00PM Local Time
Han leaned against the post supporting the roof to the bus
stop, lost in thought. On the one hand, he was coming to the
conclusion that, at this particular moment, life kind of... if not
sucked, then certainly left a lot to be desired. After all, he'd had
an early morning, a hard day's work in which he'd had not only the
delightful experience of finding out what bile felt like in one's
sinuses, but also that it turns LCL the most disturbing shade of red
when the two mix, and now at the end of it he was looking forward not
to one of Mom's if not home cooked then at least home assembled
meals, but a quick snack before he began work, in his copious free
time, on studies of the Eva control and weapons systems.
'At least it's for a good cause.' he consoled himself. 'And
the company could be worse.'
Said company had already left on the town shuttle, so he was
free to grin a bit without comment. The other denizens of the stop
were mostly heading to the main dormitory, only a handful of them
were going all the way to the end of the line with him. Thus left in
relative anonymity, he could think uninterrupted.
'Quite a bit worse, in fact. Not exactly a showstopper to
look at, but if the girls at Dad's parties had had half of the
personality Nami's shown I'd have been dragging Mom and Dad into
them, not the other way around.'
He briefly remembered his encounters with some of the other
business families in Shanghai. Boring didn't begin to describe it.
He knew he'd never be called Mr. Exciting, but he swore he could have
gotten a better conversation talking to the table settings than some
of those 'young ladies.'
'And, who knows, she might just turn into something not too
long from now.' He admitted to himself, returning to his previous
speculations.
The bus arrived, and he joined the throng as they filed
through the door, before selecting a seat in back. As the bus jolted
into motion Han gazed out over the complex, noting once again how the
Eva hangers seemed to dominate the skyline, dwarfing the merely human
scale buildings to insignificance.
'There's probably a metaphor here somewhere.' Han mused.
'But somehow I think fatigue has more to do with it.'
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's notes-
This should probably be at the beginning, but I didn't want to
break up the flow of the opening.
Words like -this- are emphasized by the speaker.
Words like THIS are shouted by the speaker.
Words like <this> are in a language foreign to one of the listeners.
Words like 'this' are thoughts of the speaker.
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