Grant and Mana sat in a booth in the cafeteria, digging into their respective bowls of soup.
"So, what do you think of the school?" Grant asked.
"I like it," Mana replied, "It's a bit different from the one I went to, but I think I fit in well."
"I'm glad," Grant said as he started a losing battle against his chopsticks, "Tokyo-3 is a bit of a strange place."
"Was it the same for you when you got here," Mana asked, "You seem a little... different?"
Grant chuckled, "Different is a relative term, Miss Kirishima. NERV would prefer I don't elaborate too much, but I'm not exactly from here either."
"From where?"
"I'd rather not say," Grant replied, "Outside of my faith and the war against the angels, it isn't too important."
"I see," Mana said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"Don't worry about it," Grant smiled, "I'm not used to talking about it is all. I don't know if I could arrange my thoughts about where I'm from in a decipherable way."
The two sat in silence as they chewed, but the hubbub of the cafeteria continued around them as students came and went. There was a flow to it, people moving from one station to the next, trays filled, emptied, put away.
Grant looked across the table to Mana, "I have a question for you, Miss Kirishima."
Mana paused her eating momentarily, "Okay..."
Grant took another bite before continuing, considering his words. The part of him that wanted to deflect away from the ever-present threat that loomed behind the MIU, but she'd already engaged with him over his titan. Did she see the same things he did? The same mask, the same theater played out day after day until an abomination was sent to soak the city in tainted blood?
"Do you have any advice on how not to make a fool out of myself with these chopsticks?"
Coward.
The bell sounded, lunch was over all too soon.
"Thanks," Grant said, "I appreciate the company."
"Anytime," Mana replied, "What's the next class? I left my schedule behind."
"I think it's mathematics," Grant replied, "But sadly I'm not attending that class."
"You're skipping it?" Mana asked surprised, "But it's a mandatory class!"
"I have a few other things to attend to," Grant grimaced, "Namely, NERV being oblivious to the fact downtown seems to have been bombed. I can't stand by while they have this city on a knife's edge, I'm sorry Miss Kirishima."
"That doesn't sound like the kind of thing that would be happening if they had their act together," Mana muttered darkly.
"Well, I'll do what I can. Just make sure you know where the nearest shelter is, better safe than sorry," Grant suggested.
The two stood, Mana looking a bit worried, "Will you be here tomorrow?"
Grant nodded, "I'll be here, and maybe I'll also give that mathematics class a try... or maybe we can skip out to try and find a decent place for a mug of caffeine."
Mana smiled at him, "See you then."
"Take care, Miss Kirishima," Grant called out as she walked away, "And thank you again for the company today."
Mana waved back, making her way across the quad towards the door. Grant lost sight of her around the corner, brushing past the student walking in the direction of their classes. He caught sight of two patches of blue and red hair, vanishing as quickly as he noticed them.
He and the pilots had their futures set out for them, and while the others could bear the weight of the routine stage play of school, Grant simply couldn't understand it. Every moment spent doing something both useless and unsatisfying was as acute as a stone lodged in a shoe, a nagging half-pain he'd never felt elsewhere. He recalled the classes in the legio fortress, every element a lesson not only in the content but how each was a single ring of mail. One weak link was a vulnerability that sometimes could not be avoided, but you never made your armor from bright gold or soft silks.
Grant noticed Shinji glance back towards the building's exit, he spotted Grant and started after him, only for someone to pull him back towards the class. Something was said that included a shrill yell of 'idiot', but he couldn't quite make it out.
'Victory is living, aspirants. Now begin again.'
"So your new pilot is paying us a visit, have you had the chance to try and adopt him yet?"
"Eff off, and I thought you were told by the Commander to stay out of his whole situation. He isn't even really under my command as far as NERV is concerned, we only told the UN that to keep our rivals from poaching him."
"And the others are an exception? If the media gets the smallest hint about what he represents there's no telling what they'll say, not to mention the-"
"I know, alright. Now go away before he gets here."
***
Grant checked his notes as the elevator car descended through the seemingly endless depths of the Geofront, the indicator clicking away as the ventilation system whirred. He was fairly sure he had referenced the right maps, but the layout of each floor was different enough to give him second thoughts. Even with a confusing layout, the lack of defensive architecture was obvious. Funneling hallways ran in the wrong direction, dead ends far too close to entryways, and a lack of space near elevator exits, all of it giving Grant an idea that this city would be easy pickings if an Angel were to ever be small enough to cram itself down a corridor rather than being polite enough to engage in a firefight in the city above.
His boots clicked on the floor as he walked, the small rattle from the fixings of his uniform quickly drowned out as he entered one of the more inhabited sections. Tan uniformed staff, some speaking with superiors as they walked, others rushing with arms full of note binders, worried and scrambling for the sake of some deadline. Grant's arrival did not go unnoticed, eyes flicked from his blue and silver uniform down to his outwardly worn sidearm. He wasn't wearing a name tag or rank insignia they'd recognize to indicate where exactly he belonged, but most people knew better than to ask questions.
Except for one, with two rank pip and a nametag. Hyuga.
"Ah, pilot," he called as he approached Grant, "Are you here to-"
"You know damn well why I'm here," Grant interrupted, not bothering to look at the man, "I wasn't alerted to the attack on downtown, and neither were the pilots. What happened?"
Hyuga shifted nervously, clearly not expecting such bluntness in someone who was barely even part of NERV, especially someone quite a few years his junior, "Well, sir..."
"I'm speaking with Major Katsuragi, Lieutenant," Grant growled, cutting the man off, "If you aren't going to tell me that she's somehow physically unable to hear my complaint, then get lost."
Hyuga stepped back, a surprised expression on his face. Grant hoped he'd just shut up. His blood has been simmering ever since those gunships had buzzed his apartment and by now it was hitting a nice rolling boil. No doubt that kind of attitude was accepted by the other pilots, how absolutely civilian of them. That wasn't really what bothered Grant so much though; it was the fact that despite the clear threat to Tokyo-3, NERV had failed to respond. He had to stick to the singular issue of getting NERV to take defense seriously. preventing himself from blistering the Major's ears with an hours-long rant was more important than solving everything today.
Grant hit the chime button on the office his paperwork had indicated, announcing himself by rank at the entryway.
"Come in," came Katsuragi's voice through the door as he heard the lock release.
The sound echoed along with the whirring motor of the door as Grant walked in, catching her looking down at some papers as if trying not to notice him before she deliberately looked up. She had dark circles around her eyes and a pile of empty caffeine mugs on her desk, a stack of documents to read and sign were sprawled with some sense of organization barely preserved with color coding.
Grant didn't salute, seeing as the Major hadn't even stood, "Major."
Had this been any other time, two sets of escorting soldiers would have been panicking at the dozens of failures of decorum, and tech-adepts with more legal titles than actual achievements would be placing bets on who would be decapitated first in an honor duel.
Much to his horror, Grant was calmed slightly by the thought. Not bothering to ask permission, seeing as manners didn't exist in this hell world, Grant took a seat across the desk.
Katsuragi nodded stiffly, picking up a mug and taking a sip. She grimaced, stacking the mug on top of the others.
"Please, just call me Katsuragi," she muttered, running her fingers through her hair.
"I need to speak with you about NERV's combat readiness," Grant explained, seeing the woman immediately cringe and grimace, "Something that was certainly not an angel made a mess of downtown, I had to personally order my titan's deployment, and based on the documents I retrieved, NERV lacks even the most basic defenses past the Evangelions and my Warlord."
He stared hard into the Major's eyes, seeing them flicker back towards him, but quickly looked away. She spoke without meeting his gaze, clearly still feeling awkward over his treatment.
"That's been the state of things for a while, but I'll do my best to explain."
She made eye contact fully now, "NERV is built solely to fight the angels, nothing else. We're restricted under treaty specifically because the rest of the world fears what the Evangelions are capable of. First-strike weapons, and mobile deployment platforms, all are out of reach for us. We've had multiple reactor programs nipped in the bud by terrified authorities to keep the Eva reliant on umbilical cables, and now they're even whispering about seizing your Warlord."
She leaned back, tapping her fingernails on a report on the desk, "Don't think you've been unnoticed internationally, despite Dr. Akagi fawning over your titan, it's a weapon like any other. Unlike the Evas, you're carrying a loadout better suited for combat against a conventional army than strictly necessary."
"Thus, the lack of anti-infantry weapons."
"Not just that," she sighed as if thinking hard before continuing, "You're obviously trained for a plain war, you aren't one of mine. You can see the writing on the wall. We're stuck relying on UN and nationally backed groups and we'll be that way for the foreseeable future. Stick near the other pilots, enjoy yourself, and leave the worrying for people like me."
The Major laid the last part down like a big punctuation mark, the conversation was over.
Yet, Grant pushed, "Then try and leverage every possible advantage out of the angels you can, if there's anything that would have potentially helped that we didn't have direct access to, let me argue for it with whoever's adjacent to you. I can handle the politicking."
She chuckled quietly to herself at this comment, but answered honestly, "It wouldn't matter much to begin with, but I will make some inquiries, thanks for reminding me why I hate dealing with politicians."
Grant stood, making the sign of the aquila across his chest in salute, "Thank you, Katsuragi. The Emperor protects."
She smiled weakly, nodding, "Good luck, Schutler."
Grant wandered towards his titan's cradle, deciding that he might as well check up on it while he was in the militarized levels of the Geofront. His thoughts were troubled though; Katsuragi had been cooperative, but whether she could actually do anything about the situation remained doubtful.
He stopped at a small side room, mulling over the options contained inside the merchant boxes.
He needed more than cooperation from NERV, he'd need someone who knew how things worked. As far as anyone had ever explained to him anyway...
He stopped suddenly when he heard an odd voice directly behind him, "Well, look here. A pilot of some kind..."
"I'm no pilot," Grant snapped reflexively, turning around slowly and locking eyes with the unshaven man before continuing, "And you are?"
The man raised a single eyebrow at the young man's hostility and slouched against a wall casually, "I'm surprised that Misato, I mean the Major, didn't let you know I was here."
The correction he made was as obviously choreographed as a scholam theater fight, Grant sighed inwardly and did his best to keep from rolling his eyes.
The man continued, "I'm Inspector Kaji, one of Katsuragi's old friends."
Grant more or less ignored him, hitting a button on the machine he thought corresponded to the caffeine. It gave a soft hum which rapidly escalated into a long bang before a dented can dropped out of the chute.
"So?" Grant asked after finishing his drink.
Kaji grinned at him. "So I'm gonna have to insist that you're a bit more careful with that teminal of yours."
Grant felt something tug at his stomach as he regarded Kaji quizzically, "So you're a friend of the Major... and what was that about my terminal?"
The man stopped grinning, and Grant noticed a lump in his jacket.
"Well, you see, its contents are visible to anyone inside NERV with the right clearance, and there are some people around this place who'd rather the uncomfortable questions not be asked."
Grant blinked slowly, "So you're trying to protect me?"
Kaji shrugged and laughed softly, "More or less, I guess. If you're already digging into this organization, I suppose that makes you a friend."
The Inspector stood from the wall, glancing up at a security camera that Grant noticed was curriously pointing uselessly into a corner.
"If you need to get in contact," Kaji advised as he handed Grant a slip of paper, "Use this number from a pay phone far from your apartment."
"You seem a well versed in this sort of thing," Grant noted, "If you're willing to trade information, I'm sure I'll have plenty that would interest anyone from historians to generals."
Kaji nodded in agreement, "So the young lad knows this game. Just take precautions, and don't tell old Ikari, or anyone else, more than you have to."
"Thanks for the advice," Grant replied, "And nice autopistol."
The man patted a spot under his left arm appreciatively, "I didn't know I was printing, you'd better let me take that piece of yours for a range day sometimes."
Grant sighed inwardly again, "Thanks for letting me know I've got something worth taking. I guess I'll be looking into some things soon."
Kaji nodded and opened his mouth as if to speak again, but a slight whirr came from the ceiling.
"Seems like our chat is over, take care Princeps."
"The Emperor protects, Inspector."
Grant glanced up at the camera, its lens turning from its useless position back towards the small niche. It seemed this Inspector had many talents, and Grant had just the thing to buy them.
AN:
And so, I return. It's been a long while since I've posted a new chapter, but it's very nice to be back writing something which isn't academic. Questions (I won't give spoilers for following chapters), praise and criticism are always appreciated. With 2700+ hits on this story as of November 1st, 2022, it seems that despite my weird premise and writing this story has remained popular enough.
I'd also like to thank DerpymanMT, the writer of Maternal Programming on , for proofreading this chapter and for his expertise in the areas of Evangelion I'd otherwise miss.
P.S. Thanks to the people who informed me that the fomatting was murdered by FF. Since this is a mirror of the fic on Ao3, I'm a little fuzzy on how to use this system.