Disclaimer: I do not own Gate: Jieitai Kano Chi nite, Kaku Tatakaeri while Shingeki no Kyojin is the property of Hajime Isayama, I only own the OCs I create. Please enjoy reading this story.

And Thank you

"Hi!"=Yelling/Title

"Hi"= Speaking

'Hi'=Thinking

"Hi" = Flashback

'Hi'= Flashback thinking

Hi=Intro

"Hi!"= Flashback Yelling

Chapter 4

It was a normal day when they first arrived, the sun shining down from a light blue sky on what could be described as a warm day. It was nearing the time of year traditionally dedicated to the harvest and the issue of this year's collection of taxes had been hot on the minds of all of those who were involved in the king's seasonal calling of his court. The court had just been recessed, having gotten no where on the issue, and I was in the midst of peering out of one of the few windows that lay within the main chambers dedicated to the council when I first saw them approaching. At first they looked like a group of large grey clouds, which at first was puzzling considering how this was by far the driest part of the year, however as they continued to approach us it soon became clear that the approaching objects were by no means rain clouds. They looked as though they were something along the line of giant, multicolored, birds; except they lacked anything which could be considered as wings making it so that if they were indeed birds they shouldn't have been able to fly. As they continued to approach our settlement the Military Police guards began to sound the alarm causing those who responded to be divided into the two following camps, those who more or less panicked entirely unsure as to what to do and those who responded accordingly and began to take the required preocssionary measures. This mild sense of confusion made its transition into chaos as the birds proceeded to stop above the more open portions of the king's palace and slowly began to descend seemingly without a care. It was with this complete and utter sense of chaos that we found ourselves beginning down the road of modernization caused by contact with a world beyond our own, a road on which every step we took forwards could not be taken back.

-Diary of Herman Lodz Trost District advisor, currently stationed within Wall Sheena during the time of first contact

"Gunners at the Doors!" someone shouted causing Alexander to glance up from his current routine of checking and re-checking his uniform pockets and magazine to make sure they were in top shape and look to see a soldier armed with a L108A1 make his way over towards the main entrance of the AS365 Dauphin, ready in case of an emergency. Seeing this Alexander proceeded to move his pointer finger near the safety of his SA80 so that he would be ready if he indeed had to use it.

'Hopefully that won't happen' Alexander thought to himself as he continued to notice the ground slowly getting closer and close, along with several figures that were currently gathering together to form a thin line across the area that they intended to land in.

"We've got possible hostiles organizing to possibly put up some sort of resistance" one of the soldiers at the door stated, causing Alexander's already uneven breaths to become worse. As the Dauphin progressively got closer to the ground more and more of the unknown combatant looking individuals began to form more shabby looking battle lines, causing them to eventually become arranged in several odd looking patterns. The supposed seconds that the typical landing would take suddenly began to feel as though they were being stretched into minutes and from there to hours as the tension within the tine metal aircraft began to rise, causing the air within the confined space to thicken to the point that one might've been able to cut the supercharged atmosphere with a knife. The condition continued to get worse so that when the soft thud that accompanied any helicopter landing was finally heard Alexander swore that he felt as though a giant weight had just been lifted from his shoulders, and also could've sworn that he heard the sound of someone releasing their breath. This thud was accompanied by the sound of the main entrance door of the helicopter being flung open causing the ordinarily inaudible sound of the door sliding across the outer metal of the helicopter to be suddenly become audible along with the sound of the first two soldiers at the entrance of the helicopter to suddenly be heard as they leapt from their spot in the helicopter. They were followed by the leading officer of the small squad which had been tightly packed into the helicopter like clowns into a small clown car, who was also followed by her second in command before finally allowing for Alexander to make his own rapid exit from the vehicle and raise his fire arm to help stabilize the perimeter.

Subconsciously Alexander turned the safety on his L108A1 off and levelled it up to his shoulder, in case things deteriorated so badly and so quickly that it needed to be fired. From the corner of his left eye Alexander could see two things, first the remaining members of his squad move to secured the more visually obscured side of the helicopter and second the sight of two men making their way towards the line of armed individuals. The two men were easily discernable as being the military & civilian attaches who'd been assigned to help begin the negotiating process with the natives of this world; the military man was in a typical uniform worn by a general when not on parade with a pistol strapped to his waist while the civilian was in a black suit and black tie. However, it was not the men themselves who'd managed to catch enough of Alexander's attention to warrant him moving his eyes away from the target in front of him but rather the people they were walking towards. If one looked solely at the style of their uniforms it would be easy to assume that they were some sort of variants of the aviators from the Second World War, as they boasted the same pilot jackets found on American bomber and fighter pilots; but when looking at their closes the same could not be said. Their shirts looked to have been sewn by hand along with their pants, which were covered in some sort of weird series of leather looking straps, and their boots look to have also been made mostly by hand if not entirely. All in all despite having the initial external wear from World War II overall they looked as though they were all from some sort of variation of the 10th or 9th centuries, then there was the matter of the emblems on their jackets and the gear which they sported.

The emblem looked to be some sort of green unicorn on a blue background with a silver-looking rim on a patch which, while resembling the initial design of the very patch on Alexander's shoulder, looked nothing like any emblem he'd ever seen. This confusion extended to the type of haphazard looking, silver colored gear which all of the soldiers sported on their hips that resembled two small circular drums that one might use on a LMG, a Thompson submachine gun, or a PPD/ PPSH. One would think that if they could make such circular drums then they would most likely have some sort of fire arm, but so far the only thing they'd sported in front of him and his squad mates were a single hand sword in each of their hand.

'What on earth is going on?' Alexander thought to himself as he proceeded to survey the rest of the line which had assembled in front of him.

"Wait!" a loud voice shouted, causing Alexander's partial attention to go towards the source allowing him to see that the two attaches were standing in front of these potentially hostile individuals.

"We come in peace and intend to do you know harm, we wish to speak with your leaders" this caused several of the individuals who stood opposite of them to slowly begin looking at one another, as if trying to find some sort of reassurance as to the soundness of their decisions.

"If you lay down your weapons, our men will neutralize theirs so that we may discuss things peacefully" the man added causing suspicious looks to flash over the faces of several of the individuals. What followed was a period of pregnant silence as the individuals to us neither acted nor reacted to the information that they'd just found themselves expose to, until a single voice broke the silence.

"Who...are...you?" The age of the person who spoke was fairly indistinguishable and based on the fact that it didn't appear that anyone in the immediate visual front had moved it made it obvious that the speaker was in the middle or rear rows of the column.

"I am General Alfred Hastings, citizen of the United Kingdom, and the man who stands here beside me is Henry Foche, French Republic, we desire an audience with your rulers" the general with the mega phone answered.

"You dare...an audience with the last king...?" another voice asked, forcing Alexander to once again be subject to the native's language. It was an unusual language that sounded to be a sort of ugly combination between English, French, and with the occasional German word but mainly relying on the first two. In the end the end result, while not entirely indiscernible, sounded like an incredibly unoriginal version of Haitian Creole written by a person that had never actually heard the language ironically making it easier to understand.

"I hate to break it to you son, but if my friend & I along with our soldiers exist and are able to be here in such a well trained capacity then yours is not the last king of humanity" General Hastings replied, causing several of the individuals who stood opposite of them to look as though they'd just been informed that a relative of theirs had been brutally murdered at random for some unfathomable reason. It was with this that a heavy silence fell over the two groups the difference being that the silence from the Coalition side came from an intense focus while the silence from their opposition came more so from the fact that the situation that they'd been brought up in was in reality no where near as bleak as they had all been informed that it was. Undoubtedly sensing that this was the prime opportunity to offer the olive branch Monsieur Foche proceeded to take the mega phone from the general's hands and raised it to his own lips and began to speak.

"My friends we do not intend either you or your ruler any harm, we wish to help you" he began, his French accent penetrating through every single word that he spoke.

"Our forces have medical & food aid waiting to be given to you, however this can only be achieved if we are allowed to have an audience with your king and set up an agreement of how to do so. It is with this intention that I personally beg you all to step aside and allow us through so that we can begin the process of aiding your people and your settlement" with that there was once again a silence. The immediate tension of such a revelation could once again be seen on several of the faces of the soldiers that were assembled in front of them, and deep down Alexander could understand that it was not an easy decision to make. These people had been forced to stand and watch as their entire world had been burned down in front of them as their government's highly isolationist policies and subsequent justification for doing so had been entirely destroyed in one swift action. The questions going through their minds were probably regarding as to if this was indeed the case, how much of the other things they'd been told about their entire lives was a complete lie? And quiet naturally the question as to why their king , their divine sovereign, who was supposed to act in their interests and take care of them would elect to do something like this? Fortunately, they didn't have to as the choice was made for them.

This decision came in the form of a loud trumpet blast which caused the majority of the soldiers on the opposing side, and a few of the Coalition troops, to turn their attention towards the subsequent sound. The source of the sound was revealed to be that of a rather tall looking man on horse back who was making his way towards the point of contact between the two groups, proceeded by a man armed only with what looked to be a valve less trumpet and a man who bore what was most likely the royal standard on a pole.

"Make way, make way" the man with the trumpet declared, causing all of the soldiers from the settlement in the immediate path to turn towards the three men before parting like the Red Sea. This façade continued all the way up until the man and his two attendants had reached the Coalition battle line, where they promptly stopped and the next phase of their pomp & circumstance began.

"State your name & business" the man declared, attempting to look confident and menacing at the same time.

"My name is Henry Foche, honorary diplomatic representative of the French Republic and this General Alfred Hastings, military representative from the United Kingdom, and on behalf of our government the two of us would like to meet with your king to discuss the terms with which we may begin administering humanitarian aid to your people as part of a possible military alliance" Monsieur Foche responded, repeating the statement he'd previously made.

"And why on earth would you believe that we would need to allow such an audience?" the diplomat asked, causing General Hastings to roll his eyes and Monsieur Foche responded almost instantly.

"I did not wish to have to do this but we know your settlement's position, your people are hungry & look to be in a good deal; of poverty, you seem to look as though you all live in constant fear of the enemy which lies beyond your walls, and from what I have gathered from your soldiers you have been forced to cut yourselves off from the world as a result. We can help you change that, but the process can only begin to happen if we are allowed to speak with your king" Foche replied, causing the proud looking diplomat to do his best to remain unfazed by this sudden dose of information.

"If that is your only request then I will plead your case to his royal majesty King Fritz and the response will be given to you tomorrow morning, until then the king says that you may remain here if you wish or you may return back to land from which you came" the diplomat replied, before turning around and making his way back towards the castle the standard bearer & trumpeter walking behind him. Unsure as to what to do next Monsieur Foche turned towards General Hastings and began to discuss what a proper course of action would be in response to this current chain of events, with the general eventually signaling for all the troops to stand down. As Alexander complied and turned the safety on his weapon back on several questions popped into his head. Would they elect to stay of return back to base? If they stayed how would they bring in more re-enforcements to guarantee that the small group was over run? Would the king of these people allow for them to help? If he refused what would they do? What could they do?

In the end this interaction had left more questions than answers, hopefully it would not be a sign for things to come.

Hey Guys,

I would like to apologize for the long wait, I've hade some personal troubles which have made my schedule a little hectic recently. I hope to post another chapter before or by the end of this month detailing the negotiation process between the humans of the SnK universe and armed forces of our world. I originally wanted to put that interaction in this chapter but realized that with the way that the bureaucracy of SnK works that simply would not happed, at least not right away, so that's what'll be in the next chapter. Until then I hope that you enjoy this chapter and I thank you for electing to stick with this series so far.

Sincerely,

Jackie Robinson