Senki Zesshou Unlimited: A song of distant Earth

by Amon Kingsley

Three years ago Tachibana Hibiki awakened in a world where mankind was caught in a life or death war with invaders from distant stars. She failed to stop the invaders and the world was then devastated by Operation Babylon. Now a new breed of Symphogear Adaptor must stand up and fight…

8. Chapter 7: Land, Air and Sea

October 14th 2050. Los Angeles Air Force Base, El Segundo, California, U.S

"Are you ready, rookie?" I smile mischievously at Nanami as she parades her dress uniform before me. We've had a fortnight free of the dress greens, but all good things come to an end.

"...again?" Nanami pouts at me beneath her cap.

"Have you surpassed me yet?" I ask her, to which I can almost see the steam coming from her ears.

"I'm getting better," she whines back. "I took you down twice in yesterday's exercises."

"And that was only because Alicia ran an intercept both times and damaged my machine. You need to surpass me yourself."

"I'm getting closer though." Nanami insists. "Every day, every battle I grow that little bit stronger. And it's all adding up now."

That's something I can't deny, nor would I want to. It's the very reason we came here. "We're doing the duty Major Jinguuji set for us. When we return to Seattle, we will be much stronger than we were when we left. I'm sure the Canadians will appreciate our renewed fighting prowess."

"Or how surprised they'll be when they meet Alicia and Simone and find out just how much they've learned from us. They'll be reminded of the old saying: the weak should fear the strong."

"And I'm sure the Canadians will be just as quick to remind us of 1812." I smile ruefully. "But we've got the Americans serious about working together, and that's a big step forward from where we found them." Simone and Alicia have been brought together in the crucible of our relentless rounds of training. For those first few days they could never hope to stand up against the two of us in either ground Symphogear combat or in the TSF simulators as Nanami and I exploited the bonds of teamwork forged in Seattle to combine our powers of piloting and close quarters mastery to their limits.

But the Americans learned, and not in the least because Nanami and I have given them our helping hands. By taking command and showing Simone what it is to work with, and not against, a nominal leader it's made her more willing to let Alicia direct the flow of combat. By acting as a willing subordinate but using her own accumulated wisdom to advise, Nanami has given Alicia the opportunity to mellow out her style of command and put more trust in the ability of her underlings.

There is plenty of room for improvement. The two Americans don't trust each other enough yet to really push their abilities to their limits. And they still haven't had the chance to test these skills in an actual battle, the only true test they will ever need.

Today is a major step in that direction.

"Did we really have to wake at five in the morning for this?" Nanami stifles a yawn, her third since we woke up.

"0500 Nanami. And this is big. A full-scale military exercise by the Los Angeles Defence District. Tens of thousands of men and women simulating a BETA assault on the city and the response to it."

"Captain Tomosato said this is the biggest military exercise since Babylon. At least 80 TSFs from the Army, Navy and US Marines will be involved! That's more than the entire 1st Tactical Armor Regiment back in Seattle."

It has long been a dark rumour that the G-Bomb strategy was one that had two aims: that destroyed the BETA, but also that it would leave the United States on top in whatever world situation was left behind in their wake. Circumstances certainly have left the United States in a highly enviable position after G-Day. But not secure enough, as it turned out.

Still they survived better than the Empire did. And we didn't help things in that last border war.

"And the Spectres get to demonstrate just what we can do as a collective venture between our two nations." I add. "We'll be altering our elements at least once during the exercise, so we can show them just what happens when we team up and why sometimes they should let us Japanese call the shots."

For an American Adaptor to ever fight under the command of a Japanese one must have taken Major Jinguuji every inch of her political and military status to achieve. But we have proven the wisdom of her efforts, at least in our private training. Today we demonstrate it before the best and the brightest of the United States Army and show them the wisdom of our alliance and why I should be allowed to give orders to Simone at times.

And not just because Simone really does need reining in sometimes.

"Speaking of, if we're up this early there's no excuse for the canteen not to be staffed. Let's catch some breakfast with Alicia-senpai and Simone. When's the briefing?"

"0700," I recite from memory. "They're bringing in US troops from San Francisco for this exercise, and that's taking time. But everyone should be gathered by then. But before that..."

I pull open the door and gesture to Nanami. "We're up and dressed, let's see if the others are up and then feed our heads for the morning. I doubt we'll get many chances after the exercise begins."

The corridors of the base are deserted, though I know that further away there will be a thrum of activity as everyone gets ready for today's grand exercise. LAAFB is not a combat base but a command and control one. Before G-Day it was mostly focused on aerospace defence, but now defending the city and surrounding area is its top priority. From here the entire exercise will be directed.

"We need to meet with Keisuke to make sure our machines are ready after breakfast but before the briefing. The SSFs haven't been taken out in two weeks, we need to make sure they'll perform today."

"They'll perform." Nanami's confidence when it comes to the mechanics of our machines is born of her years of experience handling machinery. "Keisuke-Sōchō and I checked our machines over yesterday, and it's in top condition. What about Simone and Alicia's machines?"

"They'll be ready." Cooperation was always the goal, and part of that was finally integrating the two national teams together and forging bonds between the two mechanic teams. The Americans have shown themselves the equal of Keisuke and the men and women of his team. Their chief mechanic is a sandy-haired veteran named Vincent Lowell, who's been working with TSFs for over half a decade. He was stationed at the storied Yukon Base in Alaska for a while, until his skills saw him return to the continental United States and take over the needs of America's SSF project. He's been open and friendly to us, and helped ease any lingering tensions. He mentioned he'd worked with the Empire before in Alaska, but not what the circumstances of that was. I can't recall any projects the Empire was mounting there, but that would have been far above my pay grade.

I'll have to ask Major Jinguuji about it when we eventually get back to Seattle. I'm sure she would know the details.

"Ah! There you two are!" Simone is waiting outside Alicia's room. While Nanami and I share a room, Simone and Alicia have separate quarters. "The princess is still getting dressed. She's still not used to doing it herself." That wicked grin once again crossed her lips.

"That's not fair!" Nanami glowers at Simone. "Alicia-senpai has been working as hard as any of us."

"Chill, Nanami." Simone holds a hand up. "I'd have called you two slow if you were the last to arrive. I'm not that petty anymore."

"That's good to hear," I slide myself into the conversation. "Because today you need to show off just how far your partnership with Alicia has come."

"As long as she also proves to me that there's no longer a stick up her ass. It's strange, you're the first real commander I've had. A Jap soldier-girl. Who'd have thought it?" Simone cocks her head. "But I know you care. You lead me the same way you lead young Nanami here."

"And Alicia-Senpai will lead you the way she's been leading me," Nanami adds, "to maximise your power and skills so that you can accomplish what we never could alone."

"She's certainly been doing that," Simone's smile has less of that sharp edge to it, the sardonic dialled back a bit. "You've made a good team with her."

"As you have with me," I remind Simone.

"True. And now Uncle Sam and his merry men will play host to a little demonstration." Simone's eyes flash with anticipation. However she might feel privately, she welcomes the power bestowed upon her by the Relics and the Symphogear they employ. And her attitude has always been clear.

If you've got it, flaunt it.

The door swings open to reveal Alicia nicely dressed in her dress greens.

"Morning ladies," she greets us. "Who else feels the pinch of the morning?"

"I do!" Nanami says warmly.

"We all do." Simone adds. She really is playing nice today. "So, shall we wake ourselves up with a cup of thick coffee and a bowl of what they charitably call 'porridge'?"

"Sign me up!" Alicia exclaims as she exits her room and together the four of us take off down the base's winding corridors.

"This is going to be big," I said eagerly. "An active exercise including large-scale mock battle, fought entirely in-person using JIVES. We can't run an exercise of this sort in Seattle. Not enough numbers, not enough propellant," And not enough Eishi.

"Will JIVES be able to handle our SSFs? It's not exactly easy to quantify our destructive powers. A Symphogear tends to defy those sorts of things." Alicia asks me.

I nod. "A large part of our dismounted Symphogear training has been to gather data on how we fight to better upgrade our SSF's combat computers. And today's the first test of that data through the JIVES system."

"Give the beating we've been giving each other, I hope it got every last scrap of that data." Simone beams. "You were right, there's something nice about just operating your relics yourself, on foot, with the enemy right in front of you." She tosses her hair. "On some level you're aware when you're in an SSF that it's not entirely you doing the fighting. But on foot, you can really feel it, y'know?"

"Yes, you can certainly feel it." Alicia mutters. "And it hurts like shit."

"But it feels so good too!" Nanami pipes up. "No pleasure without pain."

"Kinky," Simone laughs. "But really, I think we'll be able to show off a whole lot more of what we can do today."

The hangers are full of frenzied activity. Nobody here is acting like it's still pitch black outside. There's only four machines waiting in the hangar, but each is being lavished with care and attention.

"First Lieutenant Otohime!" A tall man with a mop of pale-blonde hair waves to us.

"Mechanic Lowel, greetings. Do you know where Mechanic Shimazu is?" My English has gotten a lot better recently. I might even become as fluent in it as Major Jinguuji herself, who once confided that before she'd become a soldier she wanted to be an English teacher. One of the few secrets of her past she's ever let slip to us.

"He's about 12 foot in the air doing the adjustments on one of your machine's elbow actuators." He points to my SSF's bay. "You empire should be proud of its mechanics, they equal anyone I ever saw at Yukon."

There it is. A mention of Yukon Base, one of the foremost UN TSF facilities in the world.

My curiosity spikes to the fore and I decide to risk probing for information myself. "You mentioned you worked with the Empire at Yukon, but I've never heard of any of our projects up there."

Lowell's sharp gaze probes my intent, before he blinks and gives a small smile. "It was classified then, though I don't know if it matters now. I'm sure you'd have the clearance to hear this anyway, you Adaptors jump the line when it comes to classified information." He clears his throat. "We were part of the Japan-America Joint Tactical Surface Fighter Development Program. You can see why we shortened it to the XFJ Program." He smiles at his joke. "Approved in 2046 to upgrade the Type-18 Shinshin. Your Empire boasted it as the world's first fourth generation frontline fighter, but being the first also meant it was the first to be rendered obsolete."

I nod gravely. The Shinshin was ahead of its time when it first flew in 2016, but that was nearly forty years ago. Since then a whole host of new TSFs emerged to dethrone it, including its fellow Japanese TSFs like the FX Program's Type-32 Kyōfū and the Imperial Royal Guard's Type-44 Bishamonten. I flew a Shinshin in combat, and while it was fast and noble it was also flimsy and lacked any kind of stealth features that have become a major feature of most TSFs since the American F-22 Raptor changed the game.

What surprises me is that the Americans were willing to cooperate with the Empire in sharing classified technology. "And how did you get involved in it?"

"I came with my pilot and buddy. He'd hate me for bringing this up because he had a massive chip on his shoulder from it, but he was half-Japanese. Not that it helped him speak the language any better," Lowell chuckles, but there's a clear note of sadness beneath it. Is this friend of his still alive? Or yet another lost soul dragged into the endless morass made by the Babylon disaster?

"So how'd you end up working on SSFs?"

"As it happens, you were the cause of the downfall of the XFJ program. Not directly mind," Lowell clarifies hastily with a raised hand, "but the arms race your technology sparked off. When the US started its own Symphogear program it directed all available resources towards it, and the XFJ project was a casualty of that. Can't go around helping a potential rival after all."

"We were never that," I state firmly. "Never would have been. But now we're getting to prove that. Here, today."

"That we are," Lowell concludes. "It's a pleasure to speak with you, Lieutenant Otohime."

"Kaede, if you please." I told him.

"Only if you call me Vinny. It's what everyone calls me."

He waves us off as he returns to his own crew and Nanami and I find ourselves before the black and red surface of my SSF. Keisuke is exactly where Vinny said he'd be, and the aged mechanic notices us and begins climbing down.

"Kaede, Nanami, I was beginning to miss you both. Not much to do all day but keep the paintwork polished and fiddle with all the dials to make sure they're all working."

"A TSF hasn't had dials since the 20th century." I chide Keisuke.

"You know what I mean," he replies crossly. "But we've kept these at peak fighting position, and now you get to test it out yourselves."

"Test it out buzzing across the salt flats for a few hours while fighting imaginary BETA. Someone's idea of a good time, I'm sure." A recognisable voice comes up behind me. Sure enough, Simone has joined us. She's already wearing her real-time interpreter.

She nods at Nanami and I before addressing Keisuke directly. "You're the Japanese chief mechanic? Vinny speaks well of you. I'm Simone, pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, Second Lieutenant," Keisuke throws her a salute. She blinks for a second, unaccustomed to such formality, before shrugging and returning the salute.

"Simone has a rather lax attitude towards the whole soldier thing," I explained to Keisuke. "I've only just got her obeying orders."

"I would prefer to dub that 'following suggestions', but you call it what you want, Kaede." Simone gives a vulpine grin. She then takes a step over past us towards my SSF. I'm reminded that neither she nor Alicia have yet had the chances to examine our machines up close, and vice-versa. We need to get Vinny to show us the American machines. I really want to see those lines up close. The American SSFs look more like mechanical birds than the humanoid forms of regular TSFs.

"Now that head on your machine looks a bit like that of a whale, doesn't it? One of those Arctic ones, with the melon heads."

A name pops into my head. "Beluga?" I say.

"Yeah, those." Simone clarifies. "Though no Beluga had fins on its head. Our machines have those compound sensor eyes that make them look like they're always giving you the evils. Never feel entirely comfortable under that gaze." Simone suppresses a shudder. "And those lines are smoother. Your Empire's TSF designers don't seem to have the same fetish for anything angular that ours must have. What kind of boner do you think our machines must give them?"

"Simone, please!" I plead as Nanami can't hold back her cackle of laughter and Keisuke goes red faced for a second before joining Nanami in laughter.

"I like your style ma'am," Keisuke smiles at her. "No need to hold back in front of me. I'm hoping that we might have a chance to look over your machines ourselves. The systems our machines use are practically identical, as they work on the same Sakurai data in their Symphogear synchronization matrix."

"The only way you're going to get that chance is if we convince the powers that be that us fighting together is a good thing and that we should formalise it." Simone answers him. "The trust barriers need to go down enough that you pouring over American state secrets is not considered a dealbreaker."

"And that's what we're going to do!" Nanami finds her place to chime in. "We're giving it our all today. Exercise or not, we're going to show everyone the power of our machines, of our relics, and of the name Symphogear!"

"About that, it's a Japanese name, right?" Simone asks aloud. "It sounds kinda stupid in English. Just saying. Symphony I get, but gear? Gear is any tat you take out with you. Machines like this? They deserve a more majestic title."

"Yeah, like what?" I ask her.

"Symphosuit? It's basically a powered exoskeleton but powered by a Relic. Or Symphonator. Y'know, after the Terminator? We're as badass as any of that shit."

"Yeah, well your government chose to keep using Symphogear as the terminology, so it seems to have stuck." I told her. "And it's a perfectly fine term. Works in English and Japanese. Another tie that binds us."

"If you say so," Simone really does like her opinions, and the voicing thereof. In that regard she's every inch the American and more alike with Alicia than she might be willing to admit.

"If you come this way, I'll give you a personal tour of this machine. It's Kaede's machine in particular," Keisuke, Nanami and I join Simone and together we walk up to my machine's open cockpit block.

"It doesn't look much different here from my machine." Simone comments as she peers into my cockpit.

"Minor differences to the controls. Your machines aren't as optimised for extreme three-dimensional maneuvering performance as ours are. Why be flexible when you can be invisible?" I replied.

"When you don't care about hiding." And that is Alicia as she joins us. "And we really don't need to either. We're Symphogear Fighters, hiding is the exact opposite of our style of combat'. But our machines were repurposed from the prototype YF-44s after Lockweed lost out to Boening's F-45 Peregrine in the Advanced Tactical Surface Fighter program."

Recalling their machines from our battle a few weeks ago. they certainly reflect the American obsession with sharp angles. Prototypes hastily converted to fit a Symphogear Adapter.

"This is First Lieutenant Bernstein of the American Adapter Forces." I announce.

Alicia has no problems with taking and relaying Keisuke's salute. "I apologise for not introducing myself sooner. I look forward to working with you in the future. I'd be glad to give you a personal tour of my machine if you wish."

"It would be an honour, ma'am," Keisuke responds warmly. "You Americans are not quite what I expected."

"You can blame it on Kaede here," Alicia gestures to me, and I feel my cheeks burn as a response.

"I-I've been doing a good job, Engineer Shimazu." Oof, that one didn't come out quite right. Can't look like a fool in front of everyone. "We all have. This is no one person's effort, but the combined work of all four of us. A beacon to our two peoples in these dark times."

"Beacons don't count for much unless they're clearly seen," Keisuke observes. "So we need to get you four front and centre today. And your mighty steeds will carry you there."

"Steeds, more like baby carriers," Simone huffs. "We don't exactly ride these machines bareback."

"No, we wear them like a suit of armour, and direct them from the heart." A sentiment once shared with me by a certain blue-haired woman who knew better than anyone how to fight in such an awesome machine.

"Let's hope our hearts shine through today then," Alicia reels us in. "Before that, I'll take you over to see my SSF chief mechanic. Might as well force the issue, give you a fait accompli in case the brass get all upset with us."

Alicia's willing to risk a reprimand to give Keisuke a look at her machine. What magic has Nanami wrought upon her to change her this quickly?

There'll be time later. Today's a day of demonstration, and a game of concentration. And when we win it, all of Los Angeles will know our power.

It's the same reception hall we used when the Spectre Program was first announced, but it's now full of folded chairs and with a large projector screen filling the stage. I imagine this is what they use for training videos or movie screenings. Half the seats are occupied, small groups of uniformed American servicemen and women conversing across a dozen small groups, most segregated by service.

Captain Tomosato leads our little party, her American counterpart running late from a meeting with General Grey to discuss our combat improvements. She's been holding her own with the Americans, and allowed us to proceed in our own ways of forging cooperation.

A recognisably melodic voice slides over us as we walk by a group of blue and white-clad US Marines.

"Lieutenant Kaede, were you slipping by without saying hello? I thought you Japanese were considered polite."

"We are, Captain Hillard. But you pre-empted me." I salute him, then warmly take his hand in a firm shake.

"I didn't get the chance to meet the Gears in Green at our last meeting, did I?" He strides over before the two American women. "Captain Daniel Hillard, United States Marine Corps. The pleasure's all mine."

"Now exactly what kind of pleasure would that be?" Simone asks him, lips firm.

"The pleasure of sharing a lovely BETA BBQ and Roasted Tanks. My kind of meal," Captain Hillard doesn't pause for a second. "I've seen you two from a distance. You give the BETA an American-style welcome when they come knocking. I like that."

"I think we'll deliver on that, and with some spare," Simone's matching smile shows they share the same wavelength. Is that an African-American thing, or what? "I'm Simone."

"Long beach?" Hillard asks her.

Simone's eyes widened for a second. "...you can tell?"

"I might be a Philadelphia kid, but I've been here long enough to pick it up." Hillard grins. "Nice to see a local represent."

"Someone here needs to give a damn about the people, as opposed to the factories and facilities." Simone states.

"Every man and woman here gives a shit about the people, Lieutenant." A note of discontent enters Hillard's rich voice. "And we'll all prove it to you today. And who is this lovely lady?" He turns to Alicia, who looks over him cautiously.

"First Lieutenant Bernstein. You're a Surfie?"

Hillard nods. "Marine Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 314. The 'Black Knights'," he says that name grandly, proudly. "And today we're going to ride down some BETA and squash them under our hooves. Well, simulated models of them. Are you in?"

"Of course." Alicia slips off some of her caution and returns the handsome Marine's smile, with a faintest hint of pink in her cheeks.

"Did you fly in from your base, El Toro, right?" I ask him.

"What, and waste propellant? We drove in. And once this meeting's done we drive right back."

"This whole exercise is already a grand extravagance." I state. "They couldn't repeat this up in Seattle, not when there's so many shortages up there."

From munitions to propellant to rations, everything is in short supply up north. Meanwhile California is awash in all of the above and more. They can afford to burn a mountain of fuel just for a day's exercise.

Hillard nods gravely. "And the forces here can't exactly be relocated to tip the scales against the Frogs or the Leafs until we can reconnect. So this is the next best thing. Plus when so many TSFs will be buzzing across the skies, it'll show the citizens of Los Angeles that we have their backs. Exactly what you're hoping for, Second Lieutenant Simone."

Simone frowns, but says nothing.

"Anyway, we should all get to our seats. Anderson will be here soon, and when the man speaks, it's wisest to listen. Sorry for holding you up, Captain." That last part is addressed to Captain Tomosato, who stifles a blush at her fellow Captain's attention.

"No apologies necessary, Hillard. It's a pleasure… an honour to be working with you today."

We give Tomosato a moment to smooth over her composure as we make our way to the very front of the assembly, and take up front row seats to the briefing to come.

Secretary Anderson is nothing if not punctual. At 0700 hours on the dot the doors fly open and in he comes, followed by General Grey and flanked by several aides. Instantly the conversation becomes a hushed murmur as everyone still standing hastens to their seats in a scuffing of boots upon the floor.

In less than a minute everyone is seated as Anderson takes up his place once again at the podium, though this time it's been shifted to one side so it doesn't obstruct the screen.

The Secretary gives a moment for all eyes to alight upon him, before he taps the mic twice and begins to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. For some of you, this must have an eerie feeling of Déjà vu to it. I did ask if we could host this in the Dolby Theatre, but apparently they still haven't finished cleaning up after the last Oscars." A smattering of laughter rises from behind us, and with a smile plying about the edges of his stern lips, Anderson turns to the screen as it lights up with a vivid map of the city and its surroundings.

Muv-Luv Alternative OST Vol.1 - (09) Briefing

"Today we are testing our ability to defend our people, the citizens of the United States of America. We live in a dangerous world now, where the dregs of the BETA throw themselves upon us as we cling to survival on the fringes of what once was our continental home."

Stentorian and commanding, Anderson is a leader born and bred and it carries in how even I, a daughter of Japan, can feel the emotive tugging against my heart as he conjures up an image of what we're fighting for today, the motivation to give it our all.

"With that in mind, the exercise today has been code-named Operation Lump Hammer." The Secretary informs us. Lump Hammer. Who came up with that name? It must have sounded good to somebody, that's all I can think.

"The primary objective of this exercise is to measure the speed and efficiency of the newly drafted defence plans for Los Angeles county. There will be no forewarning of a BETA assault, no schedule or time frame. Today's exercise has been carefully plotted and timed, but we need to act as though it were a bolt from the blue and that there was no warning, just the sensors blaring bringing the news of another direct threat bearing down upon us. The BETA should be dead. Babylon should have wiped them clean from the face of the Earth. As we all know, it didn't. They're still here. And so are we."

Icons began to appear upon the map projecting behind Anderson, showing every major military facility in the local area. I read some of the names as they come up. Long Beach Naval Shipyard, Fort MacArthur, Edwards Air Force Base, and us, Los Angeles Air Force Base. Los Angeles has been a major military centre on the American West Coast for hundreds of years. That has made its survival in the aftermath of the Babylon Disaster a major miracle for the United States. I dread to think what the situation would be if the Seattle enclave was all that was left of continental American power. Colonel Walken's forces in Seattle are a mere fraction of the powerful California defenders. Getting the American to deploy more forces north was a major reason Major Jinguuji was willing to play the card of cooperation with Nanami and I as the Royal Flush.

"The BETA forces you will be encountering will be far greater in number than the actual assault we destroyed a fortnight ago by a factor of four." There is a ripple, a murmur of shock passing through the minds of the hundreds of men and women present. "And the laser-class will be among their number. We have not seen them since Babylon, but at the current rate it is to be treated as an inevitability that they too, will return to haunt us.

"The exercise will be deemed a success if we are able to eliminate all Laser class and reduce the enemy forces by half. And there is also the matter of our ability to reduce friendly casualties, so if our losses exceed 30% or the defence line is breached, then the exercise will be considered a failure."

While there haven't been any of those bug-eyed ballsack monsters sighted since Babylon, the Secretary of Defence is right that it's only a matter of time before they show up. They were the game changers back in '73 when they first appeared on the planet and rendered the cornerstone of human military power obsolete in an instant. They're still our worst nightmare now. If they're present on the battlefield then those 30% casualties Anderson warned of are but a flip of the coin away.

Arrows superimpose themselves upon the map, designating the swarm pulling itself from the depths of the Pacific ocean and barreling its way through the open salt flats that were once the seabed and right towards the heart of Los Angeles proper. Lines are drawn in that salt forming a wall between them, labelled the 'Los Angeles Absolute Defence Line.'

Anderson continues, "The assault will emerge from the coastline west of San Nicolas Island and proceed in more or less a straight line from there towards the city. Our forces will intercept it around Santa Barbara Island, using the island itself as the fulcrum point of our efforts. Trapping the BETA there we envelop and destroy them with all the prejudice we can muster." Another ripple, this one of polite amusement.

"Okay, that's the broad gist of it, and now we'll get down to the nitty-gritty details," Anderson scopes the crowd, "And we'll start with the...navy."

Icons appear on the map at the Naval stations.

"Thanks to the continued existence of a sea-link between the City and the Pacific the Navy will have the opportunity to once again ignite the old "does the Navy still need battleships" debate that so many of us have had to endure down the years." The note of amused distaste in his voice speaks to lived experience, and the smattering of laughs from the crowd show those who can attest to that fact.

It's a debate I learned about in Eishi training from an instructor who had served with the Imperial Navy and seen the bitter infighting in her American counterparts. After the proven dominance of Aircraft Carriers in the Great East Asian War, there was a concerted push to scrap all the US Navy's Battleships by men convinced the battleship was all but extinct. Heavy gunfire support brought the battleship back to prominence, and the BETA's ability to shoot down missiles made the big guns even more important, though even now their continued place in the US Navy is still a matter of heated argument. It's clear Secretary Anderson is sick of it himself and wants to kick the can down the road.

"The Doris Miller Carrier Battle Group under Admiral Terence Jefferson will deploy on the ocean just outside the Channel Islands area, and will be the first to meet the BETA. They will do their part to disrupt their advance and buy time for the land forces to get into position through TSF strikes and ship bombardment."

Icons representing the Aircraft Carrier and its escorts appeared in the coastal channel. This really is a big one. In scale it's reminiscent of Operation Iceberg, the last great offensive of mankind in a pre-Babylon world.

Anderson's teeth flash in a smile as he picks his next target. "The US Army will take up the burden of defending the line north of Santa Barbara. The 40th and 185th Tactical Armor Regiments along with the 54th Attack Squadron are assigned to these areas, with artillery support from the 143rd Field Artillery Regiment close behind."

Nanami gently nudges my side and whispers, "A US Army attack squadron. You think we'll see some Dauntless action?" There's a note of excitement in her words.

If there's one weapon the US can rightfully boast about, it's the A-14 Dauntless II Tactical Surface Attacker, or as the West Germans called it, the 'Tausendkanone' or 'Thousand Guns'. Between its numerous gun pods that can carry everything from Steelstorm arrays, each with over a hundred 36mm cannons apiece, to Rail Guns that can tear a Fort-class in half, to missile pods and more, the Dauntless II is the epitome of extreme firepower over all else. Rumor has it that even the Surface Dominance and F/A-XX project heads were too afraid to pit their shiny toys against the 'Foghorn'.

I saw a few in Operation Iceberg, but their exploits were on the opposite side of Sado island. Now it seems I get another chance to see just how lethal the Dauntless is.

"And last but not least, Uncle Sam's Misguided Children. Sorry, the United States Marines." I pick out Hillard's friendly bark of laughter from amongst the crowd of responses. "Everything south of Santa Barbara is your domain. Marine Tactical Surface Fighter Squadrons 242 and 314 and Marine Tactical Surface Attacker Squadron 214 will take the head on this front, with support from the guns of 1st Battalion, 11th Marines."

Yet more icons appear on an increasingly crowded map. This plan has been polished to a mirror sheen. I can see Major Jinguuji's fingerprints all over it, and it seems her initial ideas were sound enough that the US Army has made only minor adjustments.

Secretary Anderson isn't finished yet. "Those are the main forces that will be deployed today. But we must not neglect our guests as well. First up are the fine men and women of the Number 17 Test and Evaluation Squadron, Royal Air Force. They were here acting as the Operational Evaluation Unit for the Boening F-45 Peregrine when the Great Ocean Collapse took place. I am honoured to accept their request to continue to serve alongside us even after the loss of their homelands and peoples. The special relationship lives on through you. You will deploy to Santa Barbara island and act as a mobile reserve to hunt down any forces that manage to breach our cordon."

I turn my head to see the small gaggle of finely-uniformed men and women off in the left corner and a tide of applause rises to meet them. They all look somewhat uncomfortable from the attention, and I don't blame them even as a pang of empathic pain strikes my heart. They are in the same position as Nanami and I are, only far worse. There was no great evacuation of the British peoples, no chance at salvation when the world turned inside out. The Empire of Japan survived G-Day, the United Kingdom did not. They must be aware they are the last remnant of their once-great nation, and yet they're still ready to risk their lives fighting back against the enemy that stole their homeland, and siding with the ones who drowned it beneath a rain of G-Bombs.

"Secondly is our secret weapon, the joint US-Japan Symphogear Squadron or 'Spectres'. Their unique combat abilities will be employed principally in Laserjagd to clear out the laser-class where they emerge and tip the balance in our favour, and much of the success of today will ride upon their performance."

Now we are the centre of attention, and applause is directed our way. Nanami squirms a little, while Simone contemptuously tosses her hair.

So we're up for a Laserjagd. A high-stakes, high reward operation pioneered by the East Germans in the defence of the Oder-Neisse Defence Line. TSF squadrons diving deep into the heart of the BETA swarms to hunt and destroy Laser-class BETA, cutting them out like tumours from the body of the foe and thus removing the BETA's ultimate weapon, control of the battlespace. Once that's gone, we can bomb the BETA flat without fear of losing friendly bombercraft to the eye-beams of the ballsacks. It's a style of warfare we as Symphogear Adapters are uniquely capable of achieving, given our combination of incredible power and independence of operation.

Our place in the upcoming operation is settled. Once the Laser-class make themselves known, we hunt them down and kill them. Repeat until done.

"All specific details are in the sealed orders that will be handed to everyone as they leave this hallway. They are only to be opened upon your return to your bases. There will be no warning as to when the exercise will formally start. All I can say it'll be within the next three hours, with one hour before to give everyone the chance to return to their bases and begin preparations. After all, the BETA aren't going to ring the front doorbell when they arrive either."

Anderson's steady gaze locks into every last set of eyeballs across the room. "And finally ladies and gentlemen, today is about sending a message. That no matter what comes, we are ready. No matter what the BETA throws at us, we are ready. No matter what challenges may arise, we are ready. The motto of the United States Army is 'This We'll Defend.' Those are the words for today. There's no need for any further words, so I will just wish you all Godspeed. Dismissed!"

"Let's kick the tyres and light the fires!" The voice of Hillard announces as the lights brighten and the scraping of chairs precludes anything more.

After all that fuss, the last two-and-a-half hours have been a whole lot of that ancient army adage, 'hurry up and wait'. The four of us have been lounging around the pilot recreation lounge (as it turns out the base has no dedicated ready room at the hangar for some reason I cannot fathom) the entire time, wearing our Fortified Suits. As a former frontline soldier I'm well accustomed to near-permanent wear of 'the Armor' as the Americans call it. It's far more comfortable than the dress greens, and more fitting too. It even has its own overcoat for when you're out in cold conditions. I'd wear it more often if I could.

I invited Nanami in with a little game of the favoured pastime of many an Eishi: cards. Yet another skill my father taught me after I announced my intentions to enlist, he did more than any other to prepare me for life as an Eishi. Simone and Alicia were quick to join and it's helped keep our minds at ease for the past couple of hours.

"Four of a kind," I lay my cards upon the table with a knowing grin. This round is mine.

"I'm out," Nanami grumbles, and Alicia silently nods along with her.

"Nice hand, Kaede." Simone congratulates me. But then that wicked grin of hers returns. "But not good enough. Read 'em and weep," Simone grandly lays down a Straight flush right atop my cards.

"Fuck!" the rest of us exclaim in near unison as Simone takes possession of the chits we've been using in place of anything substantial. This is, after all, a friendly game of chance.

"Where do you get that luck, Simone?" Nanami asks her, puzzled.

"What can I say? I was just born with a considerable reserve of that sweet, sweet luck." The darker-skinned woman leans back contentedly. "And y'know what? I use it for all that it's worth, 'cause you never know when it might run out." Simone moves forward, picks up the cards and starts shuffling them. "In that spirit, is anyone up for another round?"

"It's your loss this time around," I give a quick smile as I stand up and stretch my arm muscles for a moment to work out the knots, before returning to my seat. "I've been doing this for half my life."

"With cards, the only thing that gets better is your poker face. And you're not exactly good at hiding yours. Kaede." Simone starts dealing cards to each of us with a practised hand.

"I've never played to win." I clarified. "It's all about channeling time. You either learn time management, or you get it beaten into you by the more experienced of your peers."

"Another lesson from the front?" Alicia asks me, her eyes once more probing for information. She learns from me every chance she gets, making my experience her own to better bring herself to my level.

"Yeah," I admit. "Saw a few fresh-faced Eishi who couldn't get over their own frustrations try to take it out on peers they didn't see as sharing the same concerns. You only ever made that mistake once." There's a lot of pent-up aggression in soldiers, that is usually only vented in the fires of combat. But there are times when it begins to dangerously bubble over, and frustration leads to rash action. If there's one thing a good soldier simply can not be, it is rash. "Learning to relax before you're sent out where you can be shot, blown up, melted or bitten to death is essential to keeping your sanity intact. I'll take it neither of you Americans have seen much death on the battlefield, right?"

Alicia and Simone give brief but meaningful shakes of their heads. "There's been a couple, but when a TSF goes down there's rarely much left. Broken machines are a lot easier to overlook." Simone fixes me with those eyes. "And we know, it's harder in real life. You're the soldier, we're just civilians who by a quirk of fate have to fight, because we're the only ones around who can sing a superweapon into life."

"Of the four of us, you have the most control over your Relic, Simone. And that's because of the four of us you are the only born-and-bred singer. Music was your career before Babylon, correct?"

I usually try to steer clear of either Simone or Alicia's past. We've read the cliffsnotes versions included in their dossiers and that's all we really need to know. But if they willingly open up to us, then it will sign a major breakthrough in our relationships with our American partners. Nanami and I have extended the hands of friendship, but only they can take them.

"...it was. I was starting to get some real buzz from my mixtapes that I posted online when the US Army knocked on my door." She may keep a cool face, but the flash in her eyes shows the pain of her life's direction being taken from her and a new fate set upon her unsure shoulders. "And I wouldn't say I'm the objective strongest among us. I lack Alicia's reach or your flexibility."

"Your synchronization rate is higher than mine. Once you stand at my level of combat experience, I think you'll be the strongest among all of us." I reiterate.

"Not true! Once I surpass you Kaede-senpai, I'll be able to stand toe-to-toe with any of us!" Nanami weighs in strongly.

"That's for you to prove, Nanami. And I'm sure you will." I turn back to the Americans. "Today's exercise won't prepare either of you for the feeling of watching a fellow Pilot fall and knowing that were you a second faster you could have saved them. It's the curse of being an Adapter, we are so much more powerful than any other, yet we can never be powerful enough to save everyone no matter how hard we try. But when it comes, when you see good men and women die that you know you could have saved, you need to be ready to respond. To take the anger, the pain, the fear, and turn it into action. And in so doing, save others from the same fate."

Again that divide that separates me from the two Americans, and even from Nanami to an extent, is laid bare. Everything I have now was taught to me by others. From the Instructors at the Eishi Academy to Kazanari Tsubasa herself, they gave me the gifts I have been trying to pass on to others ever since. Kazanari-senpai showed me that the truest example of a leader is one who gives their all to see that those that follow them will be ready to step into their place. I stand where Kazanari-senpai would stand were she still here. Deep down I wish she was here, that I wasn't left alone to carry all the weight. But she's not, and I will never, ever let her memory down by not doing what she would have done.

"Way to kill the mood, Kaede," Simone finally answers. "But you're right. You're right more often than not, you bitch." That last word is said with a smile. "We all know it's going to happen, but we don't know exactly when it's going to happen. Just like real life, eh?"

"Real life's a 'bitch' as you call it," Nanami says. "But it's the life we got. So we better listen to Simone, and make the most of it."

"Sure thing. Now who's in?" Simone picks up her cards, eyes already scoping her hand.

And just like that, the Klaxon alarm finally sounds, the harsh warble reaching right down and touching my soul with a jolt of shock and steeled resolve.

Half-Life [Music] - Klaxon Beat

In an instant we're all on our feet, chairs scraping and cards left scattered on the table.

"Shall we continue after we're done?" Simone is already heading for the door. We're all well-practised at this, the scramble, the need to be on the ball right away and ready to throw ourselves head-first into the maelstrom of battle.

"Only if you really want to lose that badly!" I throw over my shoulder. Her chuckle ends all conversation.

Two weeks of living in Los Angeles Airforce Base has given Nanami and I ample time to familiarise ourselves with the base layout. We know exactly where we need to be. The clatter of our boots echoes on floors of carpet, concrete and steel along the way, other base personnel quickly repositioning themselves out of our way the moment they hear our approach. We are the special personnel, the ones all deference is given to.

It must have been only a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime before we find ourselves at the massive double-doors separating the hanger from the structures around it. The doors are latched open to reveal a torrent of frenetic activity surging in every direction, one revealed in full as we pass through.

I spotted the figure of Captain Tomosato already waiting for us up on the gantry. We might have been slacking off playing cards, but knowing her she hasn't left this hanger since the formal briefing ended.

Ascending the gantry we positioned ourselves before the Captain, lined up according to Element with Simone beside me and Nanami utterly dwarfed by Alicia.

"Atten-Shun!" I command. Within a heartbeat the four of us, even Simone, are standing tall and proud before our dark-haired commander.

"Spectres reporting for duty!" I announce.

Tomosato gives that small, warm smile before her face returns to a practised mask of command. "Well done Spectres. Your orders are to deploy on Santa Barbara island at the Command Post there. I'll be following you in the Tiltrotor to act as your forward controller on-site and liaise with the American commanders. Is that understood?"

That's just like the Captain, She hates to stay behind. She did a lot of that while she was still serving directly under Professor Sakurai in the Alternative IV days. She doesn't speak much of her relationship with the Professor, but I get the impression she wanted to do more and still feels at least some of the blame for what happened.

"Does this mean all our commands come through you, and not directly from American command?" Alicia asks her. She must be worried about the potential conflict of interest. Alicia is an American first and doesn't want to be caught between that and any orders that I, a Japanese national, might give her. She's already proven she'll follow them, but I have a good impression now that Alicia is always one to make sure her i's are dotted and t's crossed.

Tomosato's relaxed face tells me she was expecting this. "If there's direct requests for aid from frontline forces and you are not already engaged in an on-going action, then you should feel free to adapt accordingly. But remember the first creed of the Valkyries."

She looked expectantly at Alicia and Simone, but their blank stares betray the fact that we haven't spoken of them yet.

"Captain, I don't think they know that one." I answer, and at that moment Tomosato gives that small blush of embarrassment she always has at moments like this. She tries her hardest, does our Captain, but I can still see the Lieutenant who once sat under Professor Sakurai's thumb. She still needs to reinforce that confidence any commander worth their salt must have.

"I know it!" Nanami jumps in to save the day. "Achieve your mission with all your might!"

Tomosato takes Nanami's face-saving intervention. "Thank you, Lieutenant Yazawa. The Valkyries was the name given to Special Task Force A-01, the elite fighting force of Alternative IV. They comprise some of the best Eishi in all of the IJMDF, taking on the most high-risk missions imaginable. They were your prototype, Spectres. You are their legacy."

The Valkyries were long gone by the time I entered the IJMDF, but those who had served alongside them often mentioned the UN's elite fighting unit. I never drew any comparisons between us and them, but then I didn't know them as well as Tomosato surely did.

Tomosato sizes us up. "And your mission today is to hunt Lasers, not get distracted every time it looks like a frontline fighting unit might be in trouble. Let them prove they can handle themselves while we do the heavy lifting. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain!" Four voices speak together.

Tomosato turns aside as we are joined by both the chief mechanics.

"All machines are fuelled and ready to go!" Engineer Lowell tells us, while Keisuke's nod shows his concurrence.

"Good work. The Engineering teams are to be commended." Tomosato answers.

"Mechanics are the same anywhere. US or IJA, it makes no difference." Lowell smiles.

Tomosato returns that smile before turning back to us. "You heard the men, mount up. Dismissed!"

"You give 'em hell out there!" Lowell adds.

"Take care of yourselves." Keisuke says more cautiously. "And don't bash those machines around too much!"

"You know we will!" Nanami grins as she grabs Keisuke's hand and gives it a firm shake before darting off for her machine. Likewise a few long strides takes me to the bright orange of the cockpit block of my own SSF as the last few mechanics making adjustments part before me. One step over and I ease myself into its familiar embrace with all the warmth of a lover after a long absence. I feel that trembling in my stomach, my heartrate racing and already the first stirrings of song upon my lips.

It has been a while, hasn't it? All our training has been either on foot in our Symphogears or in the Simulators in normal Eishi training. There's been no regular patrol flights for the entire time Nanami and I have been down here. No obligations but to the American Adaptors we have been paired with and our distant commander up in Seattle. The break has done us wonders, but it still feels so, so good to be 'back in the saddle' as the Americans say it.

The TSF Control Unit slides shut, and with a hum the lights flicker on and the controls power up. There's a brief tingling sensation as the synchronization systems link up my retinal projectors with the SSF's datalink and optics. Then the initial data transfer begins, and walls of text scroll across my field of vision as the sounds of my machine's engines coming online cuts through the general silence.

"Harp… sorry, Spectre One to Spectre Leader, all systems are green." Where did that come from? The moment I got in the robot, my mind slipped back a few weeks. I'm not a Harp now. I'm a Spectre. Nanami and I no longer stand alone, we have Alicia and Simone at our sides.

Tomosato's voice comes through, but her face doesn't appear on the datalink. She'll still be down there to see us off personally. "Understood, Spectre One. Awaiting confirmation from the other Spectres."

A few seconds later, Nanami's face appears on the Datalink. "Spectre Two- No! Spectre Four, all systems are green and good to go!" I'm not the only one making slip-ups, this is her first time sortieing without me as her wingman. Alicia won't let her down, of that I'm sure.

"Understood Nanami," I let my pride in her swell to the surface as the next words came. "This is a big day for you. You're going to step out from under my shadow and project your light anew. Your song will be heard above all others. Right?"

Nanami's face burns with the light of her will, and her eyes blaze like a thousand suns. "I am the wielder of Uchide no kozuchi, the Hammer of the BETA. I carry with me the wishes of the Empire of Japan, and through me shall they be granted! And those wishes are to squash as many BETA as possible. Squish them so their guts get smeared all over the floor. And their blood stains the land with a thick coat of red! Kill! Kill the BETA!"

There she goes, that terrifying flicker of an unhealthy enthusiasm for killing things. A blood knight in the making. And that's a fate I would never wish upon her, and will fight against as much as I can.

"Save that enthusiasm for the exercise proper, Nanami. Now we wait for Alicia and Simone. They'll be but a few steps behind us."

"And that's only because they're on the other side of the hangar." Nanami adds.

Sure enough, both their faces appear all but simultaneously a few seconds later.

"Spectre Three, good to go." Alicia wears that calm and professional mask she's been trying to make fit seamlessly. She still has some way to go, but it's a lot better now.

"Chicky-check, Spectre Four, check. Time to make our impressions felt." Simone's already in that zone of hers, fire shimmering behind her dark eyes, eager to get stuck in. Her song already plays about her in a flow of freestyle rapping. In another universe, she'd make a top-tier Symphogear Adapter without the issues of piloting and authority to hold her back.

And back to me. "Spectre One to Spectre Leader, all Spectres are confirmed ready to deploy." My grip tightens upon the control handles as that surge of adrenaline that can only come with piloting a TSF course through my body.

"Spectre Leader, confirmation received. Releasing docking clamps in five… four… three… two… one… release!"

With a shudder my machine's auto balancing system takes over to keep it from toppling over. Just like a human, a TSF is inherently unstable on its feet and requires constant corrections to keep it from falling flat on its face. Only a powerful computer can achieve that balance, which is why Mecha weren't a viable weapon of war before the 70s.

With a clank I direct its first step forward, a ponderous stride that swiftly gains its surety as the feel for how to make a TSF walk once more slips upon me like a well-worn glove. Swivelling on one heel I turn for the doors that are already creaking open to reveal the blazing glare of the California sun. Nanami is behind me, and the jagged forms of the two American SSFs on the other side of the hanger move to fall in alongside us, two pairs of mismatched machines united in common purpose.

"It feels good to be back in the saddle," I admit to the other three in some friendly pre-battle banter. "Few things challenge the joy found in making such a machine dance, and the death that dance causes."

"I trust that's a figurative dance, Kaede. Or is there something you haven't shown us?" Alicia flashes a vulpine smirk at me.

"You want to try it out? Do a little tango for us?" Simone's response isn't cruel, but it's still like a dog that hasn't yet learned not to jump on any opportunity presented to assert herself within the pack. We still have some way to go.

"I'll do it!" Nanami jumps in. "I'll dance on some BETA corpses! Well, fake ones." She realizes, face falling.

"That's kind of you Nanami, but I can handle myself." Alicia's machine suddenly goes on one heel, makes a clean spin through the air to the sudden shock of the mechanics cowering in the corners, and then with a crash of machinery returns to its footing without a step lost. Even a veteran pilot like myself could not help but be taken aback by Alicia's audacity.

"Is that good enough Simone?" Alicia's confidence breezes through her daring eyes.

Simone can't hold back a snort of unintended laughter. "You got me talking shit, Alicia. Well played. Now let us ride!"

The withering white of the light outside engulfs us and after a second our eyes adjust to the world beyond. There's already contrails painting stripes in the blue skies above, though whether they're from planes or TSFs cannot be said. The TSF catapults lie before us facing northwards in a row of giant ski-jumps. Los Angeles Airforce Base is a command and control centre more than a combat installation, but its provisions for TSF launching are very much up to the same standard as the proper military bases I have been stationed at in the past.

"Launch procedure commencing." comes Tomosato's voice.

Roughnecks Starship Troopers Chronicles OST - Ending Titles

With a loud clack my SSF's feet are locked into place upon the centre-left catapult. At this point it comes to me as naturally as breathing, every alteration and connection to balance the weight of my machine and the power output of its jump units flying unbidden from my hands.

My mind is never left empty. Not even for a moment. The space afforded to me by my practised ease of control gives my mind the chance to fly out over the salt flats and begin appraising the hypothetical enemy that - according to the simulation at any rate - is even now bearing down upon us.

We've been tasked with one of the most difficult and dangerous missions any pilot can be saddled with. Laserjagd operations are always risky. One of the most legendary Laserjagd units that we had to study in the Eishi Academy was an East German Squadron known as the 'Black Tags' or however it goes in German. Active right up until the final fall of the Oder-Neisse line that held the BETA back from Europe, their skill at arms was deemed a major reason why the line was able to hold back the BETA for several decades. Their Captain, Irisdina Bernhard was one of the first great TSF aces. But that reputation was earned in their own blood, as the squadron was chronically understrength at the best of times and had one of the highest rates of attrition on the entire Euro Front.

But there's a big difference between the Black Tags of old and the Spectres of today. Our machines are ones amplified by the power of the Custodians of old, drawn out through our ability to synchronize with them. We fight back with a power no BETA could ever replicate, the power that lies within each and every one of the four hearts beating in the chests of every Spectre among us.

Our relic-born power makes a mockery of even the legendary skill of Captain Bernhard. We can break through even the thickest wall of charging Destroyers, or clear a hundred Grapplers standing between us and our prey. We have no need for ammunition or resupply. And we alone can tank the damage that we might catch in an unlucky situation. For all their power TSFs are fragile machines, easily broken should any BETA get in a lucky hit. That's not a problem we have. Our SSFs can even tank a hit from the beam of a Laser-class BETA for a few seconds as was demonstrated by the Noble Six at Sadogashima. Personally I haven't tested the limit of our resistance to Laser fire. For all I know an extra second or two and it would cut through my SSF like a hot knife through butter, Symphogear or no Symphogear. But that's all we'll need to close the gap and eliminate the Laser-class.

"Kaede?" Alicia is asking me. "I said, we're all connected."

Dammit, don't drown in your own thoughts Kaede! You've got to keep on the level. You're in charge here.

"Just planning our attack," I admit as I open the channel to Tomosato. "This is Spectre One, all Catapults connected."

"All units, catapults connected. Launching in thirty seconds. Be careful out there," Tomosato's wish, expressed every time we sortie, now extended to our American compatriots.

"Always are." I replied.

"No you're not," Tomosato smirked at me.

"You're right. Really got to work on that." And then with a sudden jolt and a rush we're sent into the air, and with a shudder the Jump Units kick into action and we're on our way.