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

Hey guys,

First I would like to say Happy New Years to all of you and that I hope that all of you have had the most Merry of Christmases. Second I would like to once again apologize for the wait as my schedule was thoroughly derailed by the Christmas season and my need to work during it, as such I hope that you will accept this chapter which is slightly longer than usual. I would also like to let you know that I will try to get a n chapter up sometime before the end of February and that it will be the last one in which the unit will be training, so it might take even longer than this one given the amount of things that I will need to put in it. With that I hope that you can sit back, relax, and enjoy this newest of installments of And Thus the French Foreign Legion Fought Here.

Sincerely,

Jackie Robinson

Chapter 9

November 23rd, AOT Universe, Eldian Military Training Camp 13

"All right, lasts top everybody off" a gruff voice shouted, causing one Madeline Fichte to be jolted awake by the vehicle's sudden and forceful stop. The vehicle in question was an old French TRM 10000 and Madeline had been given the distinct displeasure of having to ride in it for last 3 or more hours over the rough terrain that coated the land side of this newly discovered world. When Madeline had originally been assigned to cover the story about the current Coalition and the opening of its attempts to "liberate" a newly discovered world filled with giants, she'd personally felt cheated for two reasons. The first was that while the initial appearance of the giant like creatures in rural France had been by all means shocking, causing a surge in the amount of time CNN allotted to the coverage of the even, the story had significantly cooled off by now; as more and more Americans had turned their attention towards the political turmoil in their nation's capitol, making their shift in interest clear with a drop in viewership numbers any time the story was on.

However, there was a second and more pressing fact and that was when she'd first heard that she, along with several others, were going to be sent to this theatre she naturally assumed that the entirety of the team would all be assigned to areas either close to the combat or command zones controlled by the Coalition. Instead she'd learned that the group was to be divided into three groups of two and each group sent to a different part of the Coalition's camp, with Madeline and her camera assistant being assigned to cover the story of a small integration unit of locals who were being given instruction via officers assigned to them from the French Foreign Legion. While some people might claim that this story, the creating of military self-sufficiency by the French within their allies and introducing of them to Western culture, it did little to quell the fact that she felt she'd solely been included on the project for pure tokenism.

"Brandon, we're here" Madeline firmly declared as she opened the small bag that she'd brought, making sure that all of the materials she'd packed were still there. Finding that her small phone camera, numerous notepads, and pens were all there she proceeded to grab the duffle bag she'd packed before returning her gaze to her partner; only to find that he was somehow still asleep.

"Brandon, wake up" she stated firmly before proceeding to roughly elbow the poor cameraman in the ribs causing him to roughly gasp before entering into a coughing fit.

"Dammit Madeline, what was that for?" Brandon asked, after he finally managed to get control of his breathing.

"You wouldn't wake up, and the last thing I'd like to do is have to go through that 3 hour nightmare again because you missed the last call" Madeline answered before slinging her back pack over her shoulder and picking up both her and Brandon's personal duffle bags. Letting out a tired, and no doubt slightly frustrated sigh, Brandon proceeded to pick up the large camera that he'd been carrying for roughly the past year of his life and followed Madeline towards the rear entrance of the truck; pausing only to hand her the camera in order to avoid damaging it to the enormous step down.

The scene that greeted the two of them was something that looked to be from an old news report from the Gulf War. The camp was rather barren, with the only thing that was able to catch Madeline's eye being the various wooden huts arranged in neat columns, with each column being placed helter skelter through out the base and large guard posts at each edge of the camp. It was as she made these observations that Madeline was able to get a better look at the huddled of fellow journalists who'd also made the journey there with them and the soldiers who'd been assigned to them. A task previously made difficult due to the lack light in the back of the truck and the fact that the road had been too bumpy for her flashlight to be of any use when she'd turned it on. From the looks of it there were reporters from all the major global networks there the BBC, the CBC, and France 24; no doubt all replacement crews seeing as how these stations had begun covering the goings on of the conflict live long before CNN had thought of the idea. In addition to this they all seemed to be decked out with amounts of recording and interview equipment that gave the allure that they were about to begin filming on a movie location rather than cover a major news story; a fact which made Madeline feel all the more subconscious of the fact she only sported pens, paper, and an assistant with a cheap camera.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to Camp 13" A loud, and heavily accented voice called causing her to look and see the French Military Police Officer who was standing across from her.

"My name is Ferdinand Capet, I am the head security officer of the base and the bases' third highest ranking officer; before my men escort you to your lodgings I would like to go over the special rules of this base" the Corps General continued causing Madeline to internally sweat drop.

'Great, nothing better than rules that will restrict our jobs and get us fired because we fail to meet the editor's quota of marketing shorts' she thought as the General began to pace back and forth across the area in front of the reporters.

"First, let me begin by saying that you are all hereby under the Jurisdiction of the French Military and by extension the French government, which means that you are required to comply with these rules like any other soldier"

"You are to observe the 10pm curfew, or face extensive question as to your activities after said curfew and reasons for breaking it, break this rule too many times and I will have you on the first supply truck back home"

"You are to only speak with the instructors or soldiers during meal times, recreational times, chapel times, and the hours leading up to bed checks; speaking to them or approaching them while they drill is strictly forbidden for your own safety"

"All film and photographs of this base will be strictly examined to make sure that they do not breach security"

"And finally, you are all to stay away from any restricted or guarded zones unless you desire to be prosecuted for violating the security of a French military base; with that I will allow my men to escort you to your quarters and feel free to amuse yourselves as you wish without violating any of these guidelines" with that the small armed attaché of soldiers began to move, prompting the rest of the reporters to do so as well. As they did so, Madeline but couldn't help but glace over her shoulder and catch a brief sight of the a short column of soldiers marching in an orderly fashion off to do what was most likely some menial task.

'Well, maybe If I play this right I can get to do something more important later' she thought to herself, not knowing how incredibly wrong the internal statement she'd just made was going to be.

December 3rd, AOT Universe, Plain somewhere in the Trost District

The warm afternoon sun shone down upon the large open plain of Trost as a small, red, propeller plane calmly made its way throughout the large blue sky. If any of the district's rural occupants who had, for the most part, grown accustomed to the sights of the large grey looking birds that would pass loudly overhead with growing frequency they might've assumed this plane was on a glorified joy ride. And in fact their reasons for doing so would be entirely justified as the plane was slow, carried few external weapons, and lacked any counteractive measures to projectiles from the ground. In other words, with the exception of a small handgun assigned to each of the pilots which was strategically placed underneath their seats, anyone who was assigned to fly the plane would be entirely helpless; and yet this assumption was still wrong.

For in the small cockpit of this small plane was one of the two experienced officers assigned to the training, and for a short period leading of, the pilots that would form the airwing of the newly composed Eldian Auxiliary Air Force. Sitting rather stiffly in the instructor's chair of the air craft Cesar couldn't help but let out a fatigued sigh as he casually glance up from the navigational map and out of the side of the cockpit to the extensive landscape below. It had been a long day for Cesar as he and his assistant had been up since 6am administering supervised navigational test flights of their new recruits, alternating with each participant so that each might be allowed time to rest, and even though he knew that after this he'd get a short rest the long schedule ahead of him gave him a headache. The point of the test was to see which of their cadets were suitable to receive their final certifications required to become a pilot and which would instead be confined to other important areas such as the groundcrew and air controllers.

"Uh sir" a timid voice called causing Cesar to shale from his staring out of the side of the cockpit.

"What is it?" Cesar asked, his eyes returning to chart, possibly considering that it might be possible that he missed his next point of instruction.

"Something's wrong with the engine" the voice stated causing Cesar to once again peak out the window, this time casting his gaze forwards to the front of the plane instead of to the side, and saw small traces of smoke coming from the plane's engine. Propeller planes often smoked, it was a legacy of the limited technology that could be found in this particular style of combustion engine, Cesar and Joseph had taken care to tell this all of the cadets; but as he continued his observation the smoke was starting to get worse. Indicating that there was something wrong with the engine related to the fuel mixture in the engine, the engine's temperature, the pressure in the tubes, or something related to the amount of oxygen getting in. Regardless as to what the specific cause was, it wasn't good.

"How's the temperature gauge looking?" Cesar asked, as question which earned him a brief pause of silence before receiving a definite answer.

"Not good" came the reply, causing Cesar to curse under his breath and begin looking out of the cockpit for a open plain to land the plane. After briefly searching, switching back and forth between the exterior of the cockpit and the map before finally finding a place.

"Cadet Braus, look to the land the aircraft at the plain coming up at your two o'clock" Cesar calmly instructed, pretending as though he was not by any means concerned by the fact that the amount of smoke coming from the ending had now change from slight whips to nearly full on belching.

"Roger that sir" Sasha, the cadet in question, replied before gently turning the air craft in response to her reply. Glancing at his watch Cesar couldn't help but mutter some more curses towards the idiots at high command who had elected to construct such a tight training time table, as he began to perform some mental calculations. Luckily for them Cesar had elected to set out on this practice flight the moment when Joseph had returned instead of use the time to get some badly needed rest, making it so that they now had time to spare without needing to worry about causing concerns back at the base. Cesar didn't have time to think long, as he was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Sasha adjusting the flaps into their landing position to air in the stabilization of the air craft.

"Landing gear down" Sasha stated before the sound of the tiny plane's landing gear coming down.

"Touching down" she added, seconds before Cesar felt the whole plane shudder as it made contact with the unpaved earth, causing the necessary air brakes to be applied and the plane to slow before coming to a complete stop, allowing Sasha to kill the engine. Reaching up from his seat Cesar proceeded to grab to two handles of the cockpit canopy and use them to pull said canopy back so that he could be able to climb out of the cramped cockpit and slide down the wing before making his way towards the engine. Reaching the engine Cesar was confronted by the distinct sight of extensive scorch marks on the exterior of the area surrounding the engine, telling the tale of an engine that was luckily only overheated. As such problems could be fixed with letting the engine rest.

"Braus, can you please get the repair kit from my seat?" Cesar asked as he ran his gloved right hand across the exterior of the front of the plane.

"What?" Sasha asked, causing Cesar to turn towards her and notice that she had disconnected her oxygen mask, another part of the training program as it was best to educate the pilots on how to use them before they found themselves at heights too high for any errors to be anything less than fatal. Realizing that he had not allowed her the same act of curtesy Cesar proceeded to unclip his own before repeating his message and this time earning a confirmative salute. To say that the young Braus had been one of the more unexpected volunteers to manifest when Joseph had put out a call for more volunteers would be an understatement, for never in a million years would Cesar have though that the young woman had the dedication to make it this far into the program.

Quirky, optimistic, and slightly spastic when Cesar had seen her on the preliminary mustard parade for the new recruits he'd personally given her a few days to a week at most before she'd go limping back to the infantry unit she'd came from with her tail between her legs. After all, due to a combination of the reduced training schedule he and his subordinate were being forced to work on along with their limited staff & resources he had no room for any perpetuators of any form of tomfoolery or mischief. Needless to say he'd been proven wrong. For all her airs of for being well...an air head; Sasha had proven to be one of the most observant, if slightly absent minded, cadets he'd had register to train with the unit.

"Sir, we've got visitors" Sasha stated, causing Cesar to look up and see two small figures making their way towards him.

'Crap, locals' Cesar thought, causing him to instinctually reclip his oxygen mask on to prevent the individuals in question from getting a good look at his face. One of the things which had come up almost immediately when he and Joseph had received instructions on the limitations surrounding their activities was that they were to limit any sort of social interactions with the locals. It was no secret that the locals here had a minute tendency to spread rumors via their rumor mill at a speed that would make wildfire look slow, rumors that often lead to panic. As such it was only natural that the best way to prevent said panic was to control, i.e strangle, any rumors that began to come into existence; rumors that an unintended and unplanned meeting between Coalition soldiers and the local populace might have.

"Sasha, take care of them while I fix the plane" Cesar ordered as he pulled the front of his oxygen mask down enough so that he could be heard better, but not enough so that it would take a good deal of effort to reclip it to the head gear. Hearing the sound of metal jingling, Cesar looked over his shoulder to see Sasha briefly flash him a salute before turning towards the two individuals who were close enough to the point where he could tell that they were two young boys before beginning to unscrew the bolts the secured the paneling around the engine.

'It's time to perform some maintenance' Cesar thought, silently waiting for the day that his cadets could do this on the job maintenance work by themselves without his help or supervision.

December 3rd, AOT Universe, Plain somewhere in the Trost District

While Cesar began the process of checking the various parts of the engine to pin point the exact problem and possibly hope to fix it, even if it was only in a limited capacity, Sasha was beginning to confront the two individuals. The two individuals were, as she'd previously thought, were two young boys who looked to be between the ages of 8 and 13. Both were clothed in the simply attire that was the staple of the lower, especially rural peasant, classes that resided in Eldian society with faces that looked to be caked in a mixture of sweat and dust. Truth be told of all the entirety of their attire it was the looks on their young, dirty, weary faces that caused Sasha to feel her heart to silently cry tears of blood; it reminded her too much of the rough childhood she'd been raised in under he father's it wasn't as if it was entirely her father's fault, far from it, in fact it had been Sasha's father who had been able to raise her by himself and provide for her all of the basic necessities of life such as a roof over her head, food, water, and warmth. A fact which sadly set her up to have a higher standard of living than most of the children who were her age.

"Hello, misses lady" a youthful voice called out, causing Sasha to be snapped from her musing and return her attention back towards the two individuals who were now standing almost directly in front of her. She could now see that, contrary to her original assumption, the two were indeed armed for their own self defense; with the older of the two sporting a short sickle in his right hand. While many of the soldiers who'd come from the other world to help them, including her own commanding officers, might find it to be concerning that they'd sport such a weapon. However, given the amount of food shortages that had followed the fall of Shinganshina district and subsequent famine and the fact that it had lead to the forming of bandits who raided farms these weapons of self-defense were nothing short of necessary now a days.

"Are you okay?" the younger of the two boys asked, causing Sasha to offer a candid smile in response.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" Sasha replied, as she proceeded to place her hands on her hips.

"Because you looked like you were crying" the young boy responded, his more rural accent thickly lacing not just his speech but also his mannerisms.

"Oh, it's nothing I've just had to do a lot of work" Sasha answered, not noticing that her own long guarded accent was starting to seep out like tea into water.

"What's your name?" the younger of the two boys asked, pulling Sasha's attention back towards him.

"Sasha. What's yours'?" Sasha answered, causing the younger of the two boys to respond by giving a toothy grin before answering.

"I'm Josef and he's my older brother Nikolas" hearing the sound of his name being called Nikolas proceeded to nod his head, the sickle in his hand looking a good deal more relaxed than it was when the two had originally presented themselves before her.

"Who's that?" Josef asked, causing Sasha to turn around and look to see that he was pointing at Cesar.

"Oh he's a colleague of mind, he'd helping me to fix the plane"

"What's a 'plane'?" Josef asked causing Sasha to look towards the plane and gesturing with her left hand.

"That's a plane" Sasha answered, causing Josef's face to light up light a light bulb before stating.

"So that what you call those silver birds" to which Sasha nodded. It was because of this enlightening conversation that Sasha had failed to notice, or at least pay any attention to, the fact that Nikolas has been standing in relatively studious silence; carefully examining her.

"You talk like us" Nikolas stated in a matter of fact tone, breaking his silence and causing Sasha to briefly stiffen up at the acknowledgement of her accent.

"Does that mean you were a farmer too?" Josef asked, causing Sasha to almost instinctually nod in response rather than give a verbal answer.

"So does that mean that we can do what you're doing?" Josef asked, causing Sasha to briefly pause before realizing the possibilities that could arise from the conversation.

"Yes, I guess it-" she began only to be interrupted by a loud, angry shout.

"Braus, you idiot!" was the only warning she received before receiving a firm smack on the back of the head, causing her to spin around almost instantaneously.

"What's the problem sir?" Sasha asked, in a now thoroughly curtailed voice.

"Did you check the coolant level on your aircraft after returning from our practice flight yesterday evening?" Cesar nearly shouted, causing Sasha to pause briefly as she entered into deep thought.

"I...don't...think-" she began, only to once again be cut off by Cesar.

"Of course you didn't think, the current level is well below what is acceptable let alone safe" Cesar thundered, his voice moving more and more from an orderly one to one of rage as he said each word.

"Why didn't you 'think' it was prudent to check it" he asked, using air quotes upon stating 'think'.

"Well it was nearly dinner time, so I thought that I could just do it after I ate" she answered.

"But you didn't!" Cesar shot back, causing Sasha to simply shrug her shoulders and ask.

"Why does it matter, we solved the problem anyways right?" Personally she couldn't have chosen a worse question to pose as Cesar looked as though, if the two of them were in private, he would be on the brink of strangling her.

"WHY DOES IT MATTER? IT MATTERS BECAUSE THE OVERHEATING ENGINE COMBINED WITH THE LACK OF COOLING FLUID HAS CAUSED THE TWO OF US HAVE BEEN SITTING ON A GLORIFIED BOMB FOR THE PAST HALF OF AN HOUR! THAT'S WHY!" Cesar shouted back, before trying to calm himself before looking at the two boys.

"Who are these two anyway?" he asked, looking at the wide eyed and open mouthed faces of the two boys in front of him. Unbeknownst to Cesar his recent outburst, and wild gesticulations, had caused the mask which had been covering the majority of his face to become unbuckled, exposing his dark brown face to the two boys in front of him.

"Hello, what's the matter with you two?" Cesar asked before gently grabbing the two boys and firmly shaking them via their shoulders, causing them to be removed from their gaze.

"How'd your skin get so dark?" Josef asked, causing Cesar to look down and realize that his mask was no longer connected and immediately began fiddling with it.

"With all do respect, there's no point sir, they've already seen you" Sasha said, causing Cesar to give her an annoyed look.

"You better pray no one finds out about this Braus" Cesar growled out before returning his gaze to the boys and adding.

"I was born with it, my father's from a particularly sunny part of the world" Cesar responded, crossing his arms as.

"Wow, that's so cool" Josef declared, with eyes that seemed star struck.

"Well yes, I guess...I guess it is" Cesar stated, eyes looking off towards the left in an attempt to not seem as interested in the complimentary remark as he really was. Seeing that her superior was beginning to flounder in which might his own ego Sasha elected to take action.

"What do you need sir?" she asked, causing Cesar to snapped from his gaze.

"Hmm...what...oh yes, there's a small canister of a coolant-water mixture, should be enough to get us back home" Cesar answered, causing Sasha to walk over towards where the repair kit was before going towards the rear of the plane to remove the necessary panels to find the canister.

"So how do you fly one of these things?" Nikolas asked, causing Cesar to immediately place his hands behind his back.

"Sorry I can't tell you, it's a vital secret" Cesar answered as he placed a finger over his lips and pausing briefly before adding as Sasha passed him.

"But if you're still interested in finding out in a few years time, then you can join the air corps and find out"

"Do you promise to wait until then?" Cesar asked, causing the two brothers to each give a nod in affirmation.

"Sir, the canister's been emptied" Sasha stated, causing Cesar to glance over his shoulder.

"Good" Cesar answered before returning his gaze to the boys and adding.

"Well I'm sorry but the two of us will have to go, if you two manage to be good maybe one day this knucklehead here will be your instructor" Cesar stated, before gesturing to Sasha and making his way to the plane and climbing up on the wing and into his section of the cockpit with Sasha following closely behind; after which he closed the cockpit canopy. Flipping the required switches Cesar proceeded to prime the engine before his student in the front seat proceeded to rev it up, causing the propeller to begin spinning and allowing it to slowly begun to edge forwards. Casting one last glance towards the boy Cesar proceeded to raise his right hind and flash the two of them a salute, to which the two saluted back, before reattaching his mask and returning his eyes frontwards.

'It's children like them that will form the backbone of the new society that may indeed arise here' Cesar thought as the plane gradually gained speed before gradually taking off into the sky.