I think today's lesson is, not to do too many things at once.
- Anonymous bridge bunny.
Chapter 5 - Storm
A single piece of paper dropped onto Gendo's desk, causing the Nerv Commander to look up from the vital paperwork that had been building up during his busy preparations. He saw Shinji, his son, with a cold indifferent look in his eyes, that he knew was learnt at a young age from watching his father.
He glanced at the paper. "What is this?" he asked, holding it up.
Shinji took a few steps back from the desk, maintaining his apathetic gaze, "It is my resignation."
Gendo's already darkened office seemed to descend even more into shadow, the small pool of light around his desk cutting off the rest of the world from view. In the centre, the father, holding the sheet of crisp paper, and towards the edge, the son, hands held loosely at his sides. Both seemingly relaxed, both with the same unapologetic gaze.
Gendo spoke first.
"Why?" he asked, his tone professional and unforced.
Shinji's fingers twitched lightly before he answered.
"I am of no further use to you or Nerv. I cannot pilot the eva. I will not waste your, or the organisations time any further," his voice professional, but forced. He was still only a child, confronting his father.
"If you do not wish to waste my time then do not interrupt my work with these childish displays," he said, casting the paper aside, "Resignation denied."
And he carried on working, ignoring his son in the hopes that this would be the end of their interaction.
Shinji stood, hands twitching visibly at his sides, his stare hardening into a glare. He dropped his eyes to the floor, his anger and frustration rising.
"But I cannot pilot the eva," he said, struggling to keep his voice from breaking it's professional air.
Gendo did not look up from his papers, "A temporary set back, and one you will overcome."
"Why must I overcome it?" Shinji nearly growled.
"Because there is no one else more suitable to pilot than you," Gendo said, stamping a paper with a little more force than he needed to with an approval mark.
"There is another pilot now."
"Untested, and most likely ineffective."
"Rei can pilot Unit 01."
"At a reduced synchronisation ratio, and control."
"But I cannot control it at all!" Shinji finally broke, his voice becoming louder.
Gendo stopped his work, and lowered his pen to the desk with an impossibly loud click. He assumed his usual posture, his hands in front of his face, eyes glowering over his knuckles. "You will not raise your voice to your superiors Pilot Ikari," he menaced, emotion edging into his voice.
"I don't care! If you don't like it fire me!" Shinji half-yelled, still trying to keep a small reign on his rising bile.
"I refuse," Gendo returned, anger slowly creeping into his replies.
"Why not?!"
"You are needed."
"Who needs a broken pilot?! Why do you want to keep me here?!"
"Because-" Gendo stopped himself, hesitating for a fraction of a second, "Because I need a pilot."
Shinji clenched his fist, and glared at Gendo.
"I won't be used to fight your battles anymore!"
"Colonel! We have multiple contacts along the valley rim!"
"What?! What happened to the scouts we posted?!" barked the Colonel in the command centre.
"We've lost contact sir! All the outlying skirmish units are MIA!" yelled a nervous corporal.
"What's going on?!" Misato demanded as the forward command post suddenly erupted with frenzied activity and yelled reports, low ranking officers and technical staff running across the room like startled ants.
The colonel was too experienced to let this kind of thing rattle him, and gave her a very serious look, "Intel was wrong. Looks like the factory had a bigger defence force than we thought."
Misato's expression went from confused to determined in a heart beat, "How bad?"
A sergeant gave the Colonel a scrap of paper with the latest intelligence on it. He glanced at it, his face turning darker and more grim. He looked at her with hard eyes.
"Pretty damn bad."
Asuka saw movement on the hilltops around her.
She glanced around wildly, seeing tanks and artillery set up on the hill tops around the advancing column of troops.
She could almost feel the murderous intent of those machines.
Terror gripped her, as she realised her allies on the ground below were sitting ducks, and that with her field stretched out in front of her, her back was also one giant red target.
She saw the flashes from the guns, and had only split seconds to react to the new threat.
The green eva thudded heavily on to the ground, sending up a small dust cloud around its feet. The force of the impact sent Arthur slamming into his harness as he was thrown forward, knocking the wind from him. After being hurled forward, his body was hurled back as the eva recovered, smacking his head on the headrest of the seat. The seat had been converted from an old ejector seat from a high altitude interceptor, and it creaked on its hinges.
Arthur looked around him, slightly dazed and winded. Regaining his senses, he remembered procedure, and keyed on his comms, "This is Cooper, I'm down and relatively okay."
A familiar voice crackled across the open channel, "Arsa! Be careful! The enemy have larger numbers than expected! You have to clear the area before the power trucks can get to you!"
Arthur felt his chest tighten, "Understood," he said, weakly. He checked his battery timer. Just four minutes left. Oh dear.
The green eva rose from it's crouch. Arthur hit a couple of buttons on his armrest console, and an overlay appeared on the view screens in front of him. As he looked, he could see Asuka's evangelion highlighted in a gold wire frame, even though they were obscured by scenery. Enemy columns were shown up on a red wire frame. He looked for a green box, which would be the weapons locker dropped somewhere nearby.
(3mins50secs)
The green wire frame box was overlaid on a couple of trees. 'The weapons drop box must be on the other side of them then.' He gripped the two joysticks that jutted out from the front of the seat, and guided the eva in the direction of the green box. When he was lined up with the box, he looked to both sides and rammed both sticks forward, sending the eva hurtling toward the tree line. He barrelled straight through the trees.
As he cleared the tree line, trunks and branches showering around him, Arthur caught sight of a column of what looked like tanks charging towards him. He looked at them with dread as he realised there would be people in those armoured killing machines.
He skidded to a halt next to the drop box, and ripped open the top. As he reached inside for the weapons, he noticed what appeared to be hinges on the inside of the side of the box. He looked around to see the box opening was in fact on the side. "Um... hope they don't need it again..." he gave a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension across is mind.
He grabbed the rifle out of the box, and flicked a few switches. This set off the auto-controls to position the rifle in the correct place, ready for him to shoot. The auto-controls were one of the many systems in the eva, which made it possible for it to be used as a war machine. For low synch. level pilots, such as Art, the auto-controls performed complex operations, such as putting a finger through a trigger guard. This system saved a lot of time, stopping the pilot from spending hours getting their eva's fingers into small holes, something learnt from the Dover engagement, when Arthur literally couldn't reload his weapon.
It also saved on rifles when they missed the hole. An eva is designed to rip through concrete blocks without noticing, and so the rifles were like Swiss cheese until the system was in place.
When the rifle was secure in a firing position, and sent the eva sprinting through the tree line towards the little valley opening that he would be ambushing from.
The eva burst through the tree line, sending tree trunks flying like matchsticks. He readied his rifle, aiming for the lead tank of the column. A second rain of missiles fell onto the factory roof, sending little flowers of fire into the sky. Arthur did not notice them hit, as he pulled the trigger, sending a volley of tracer rounds hurtling towards the tank column.
The column disappeared in a shower of earth and fire as the rounds exploded on impact. Arthur did not have the luxury of time he thought he would have to reflect on the fact he had just killed a few dozen people.
In fact, it was surprisingly easy.
Then the dust cloud cleared, revealing the burnt out husks of the few remaining tanks, those that had not been buried under the dirt as it fell back to earth from being sent skyward. He was half glad that the resolution on his viewer was not good enough to make out individual bodies.
(3mins20)
He scanned the valley.
The hilltops beyond the line of trees were clear, apart from a few enemy self-propelled mortars, which had begun pounding away at the allied troop formations. Arthur did not bother with them. His main concerns were in the valley, and he would have to leave the other targets to Asuka and the Americans. And he had new problems to worry about.
For one thing, there was a fresh column of tanks hurtling from the factory gates, huge concrete holes in the ground that just seem to spew armoured death from its mouth. For another there was a line of artillery, all of which seemed to be indicating in a subtle way that when they started firing, no one was going to be happy.
As a side thought his mind noted a series of infantry squads, stealthily working their way closer to the eva. But, they were only infantry. The eva barely had to worry about the artillery, let alone a few men with small arms. This was a far cry from the helpless factory workers he was expecting, and he was almost grateful for that.
(3mins10)
On the other hand, the trucks carrying his power supply *would* care about a few infantrymen, no matter how small their limbs were. So this left Arthur the tough choice of turning them into geography. But it hardly seemed fai-
His thoughts were interrupted by a whistling noise. Lots of whistling noises. He saw the white trails loop lazily in the sky behind the missiles sent at his eva. Without even thinking, he sent his eva leaping to one side, and he watched the massive fireworks display as the missiles collided with the forest behind him. Would have been quite pretty had it not been for the fact they were aimed at him.
He snapped his head around to see the artillery lines, the smoke trails from the missiles clearly pointing to who had just let loose several thousands of dollars worth of bonfire night specials. He set the viewer on maximum resolution, and could see a few bodies quickly exiting the artillery vehicles, as though they knew the pilot of the eva would not be very pleased with them.
And he was not very pleased. The artillery line disappeared in a hail of explosive rounds. Well, at least half. The barrage had shaken up Arthur more than he thought, and his aim had been wildly off.
(2mins55)
The new tank column that had been racing from the factory was now moving at a more surreptitious rate. Nobody particularly wanted to be on the receiving end of the indestructible giants weapon of mass destruction. But, they were still a threat to his power cable carrying trucks. They could not be allowed to come any closer, especially if they were moving in his direction.
The artillery fired again, although Arthur was too interested in the tanks to notice. He was also too busy to spot the firestorm that had appeared surrounding the advancing American troops. If Arthur had a failing, and currently he was finding out that he had more than just a few, it would be the fact he tended to keep too close an eye on his objectives.
To that end he dispassionately destroyed the armoured column. This took quite some doing. The last column had been tightly bundled together, as though huddling close to each other would provide protection from the nasty evas gun. All it had done was to leave Art with a bigger target, and allow him to use fewer rounds when taking them out. These buggers were all neatly spread out, and so a lot of the rounds were wasted on the gaps between tanks.
(2mins35)
It was after he had destroyed the tanks his eyes got around to telling his brain about the artillery firing. Which became a moot point as explosion blossomed on the evas chest and head armour. The blasts blacked out the forward vision, replacing the viewer with static as the explosion played merry hell with the nerve connections. The concussive force of the multiple impacts sent the eva sliding back a few metres. Out of reflex, Arthur held one arm over his eyes, trying to shield himself from the missiles.
When the barrage stopped, he saw that the eva was holding its arm in the same position. The rifle though, not having the luxury of thick armour to protect it, was covered in gouges and smoke. He cursed the fact he couldn't use the AT field. It would have made his job so much safer.
He was not happy. The scorch marks ruined the nice paint job done on the rifle, but fortunately it remained usable.
(2mins05)
The eva once again gripped, the rifle in both hands. Arthur dropped it to its knees in classic marksman pose, and set the rifle square in his shoulder. This was a fairly pointless exercise. The only reason people do it was to keep the rifle steady with the recoil, but an eva was both strong enough and big enough to take the recoil of even this massive gun without flinching. But at least it made him feel better. In the end that's all that really counts when piloting the bio-titan.
He picked his targets carefully. He used the viewer on maximum scope to effectively snipe the artillery units whilst they desperately reloaded the big guns. But it was futile. The entire line of vehicles was destroyed, one shot per customer.
He was surprised by a sudden constant thudding on the ground around him. He looked to his, um, the eva's side, and saw what appeared to be a group of survivors of the tank column he had destroyed. They had sneaked up on him whilst he was dealing with the artillery.
(1min35)
The green goliath turned and blasted the few tanks, the boy pilot's eyes seemingly distant as he extinguished this threat to his mission. They exploded spectacularly. Arthur thought that the explosions looked quite good when they got this close.
Now he had time to deal with the remaining squads of infantry. They were quite close now though. He was shocked at how close they had gotten in such a short time. Why, it could only be a few seconds since he first saw them. Then he checked the battery charge remaining counter. Ohshit.
He got a good look at them. Most were carrying RPG's, the one shot disposable ones that many a common squaddie got lumbered with if the top brass thought there would be something heavy on wheels in the area. A few unfortunate buggers were stuck lugging around an authentic tank hunter system, the true missile launchers used for taking down heavy armour, bulky infrared sighting equipment and all.
Almost robotically he aimed the rifle at them. He was about to pull the trigger when he realised just what the hell he was doing.
(1min15)
Arthur watched, momentarily paralysed with shock at how easily it had all come to him, the first of the RPGs streaking towards him. Those were people in those tanks. And he had barely given it a moments thought.
The grenades hit, causing his monitor to fuzz in and out of static in front of his eyes. These were people as well. But he had just been ready to shoot at them as though they did not matter. He was appalled with himself. He has become a merciless killer, giving no regard, even a little disdain to the people he had just killed. He was half tempted to stop now, and just let these poor bastards at least get away with their lives.
His hands, which had been steady for the whole engagement suddenly began to shake again.
The radio crackled, "Supply to Cooper, supply to Cooper, is the way clear? Over." Then again, others were counting on him for their protection. Either way, someone would die.
Without any more doubt, he pulled the trigger, sending golden bolts of death streaking towards the squads. They had even less chance than the tanks.
(40 secs)
"Cooper to supply, way is clear, over."
He heard the trucks roll in behind him, whilst he kept a keen lookout for any fool who tried to attack now.
(20 secs)
The cable for the eva was plugged in. He could relax. At least for now.
He looked at the damage he had done. The still burning husks of the artillery vehicles. The flipped over tanks. The brown patches where the bullets had struck the ground, making the earth fly high into the sky and fall to the ground again. He consciously ignored the remains of the infantry squads.
He was amazed at how ... cold he had been.
His hands were shaking again.
Asuka could feel the sweat pouring off of her, flowing out of her skin and into the LCL, tainting it with her own salts and fluids.
Her eva now sat in the centre of a giant glowing orange dome, bullets and missiles slmming into it, rippling their explosions across it's surface.
The Americans inside had barely batted an eyelid before returning fire, and it was only due to the nature of Asuka's AT field that their returning shots were allowed to pass through.
She was still moving her eva forward, although each step felt like she was walking in water, forcing her barrier against the the ground in front, mines still exploding along the bottom of it, and struggling to keep it steady against the constant enemy barrage.
She knew that any identifiable weakness in her field would be exploited. She knew that any rounds let through the field would spell death for the troops she was protecting. She also knew that if she failed to protect every last one of them, her confidence would be shattered, and she would no longer be able to maintain her field.
She grit her teeth, focusing her mind more than she had ever done against the angels, willing the strength of her AT field to be maintained.
And took another step closer to the factory.
It was so close now...
Selee waited for the obelisk of their besieged colleague to report in. This was almost an unheard of event, and the whole council, including Kheel himself, were interested in the outcome of the battle.
Selee Ten was completely silent, even though he was the most agitated. His specialty was warfare, and the thought of his fellow council member acting without his guidance was troubling.
Strange though it may seem, these men had developed certain bonds between each other. They had worked together for so long that something approximating friendships had been formed between certain council members. Of course, as with any gathering of people, there was also friction between personalities, but largely the men all respected, if not actual like, each other.
And Selee Ten was one of those men who genuinely cared about his co-workers well being. He had started his career as a low level grunt, and had not got to his current position by the usual back stabbing and treacherous paths like some of the other council members. His experiences in his first squad had shaped his life, and the reason he worked so hard for Instrumentality now.
Selee Two appeared in front of the council, "They have advanced to the factory, and are invading with ease. My security forces have been largely wiped out, and the allied forces are in full retreat."
An updated overview of he valley with red dots representing the Nerv forces appeared at the centre of the councils circle.
Selee Ten whistled, "That British pilot handled his ambush well. And the defensive power of the Nerv brat is truly astonishing. Did we cause any damage?"
"Very little to the main force, but the green one was nearly disabled due to power failure. We scored a few hits, but it only sustained minor damage."
"Hmm..."
"What now?" Selee Two asked, his voice totally devoid of panic.
"Launch the jet alones. All of them. The factory is lost to us, but at least we can force them to destroy the stock, and possibly take some of them with it," Selee Ten advised. "I'm sorry friend, I have underestimated the ineffectiveness of conventional weapons against the evangelion."
"It is costly, but we have learnt a valuable lesson. It doesn't matter. I will launch the Jet alones and make my escape," Selee Two said.
"We may as well use this opportunity though," suggested Selee Four.
"How?"
A white obelisk, totally featureless apart from it's colour, appeared amongst the council members, and Selee Four continued, "We have re-synched the Prime and another in time to undergo a mission. With your permission, I'd like to send the Prime to retrieve the British Eva. It has no AT field, and presents limited risk."
"What about the Nerv evangelion?" asked Selee Ten.
"They will be quick, and Nerv will not be able to react in time."
"You have permission," Kheel agreed.
"Thank you. Your target is the British Eva," Selee Four ordered, changing it's focus to the white obelisk. "Do not pursue your own agenda this time, or there will be consequences."
"Understood," the white obelisk said, with a certain amount of apathy.
"You don't have a choice in the matter!" Gendo yelled back, forgetting his composure in the face of Shinji's defiance.
"Yes I do! Ever since I got here you've been forcing me to do this, this..." Shinji ended his sentence with a wild set of hand movements, still unable to bring himself to use strong language against his father.
Gendo stood up and slammed his hands on the desk, "Forcing you?! Yes, I've been forcing you! You're the only one who can do what needs to be done! Now grow up ad accept your responsibility!"
"Responsibility?! I don't have to be responsible now! The Angels are gone, and all that's left is your private little war against some people I've never heard of!" Shinji responded, anger keeping him from fleeing under his father's sudden rage.
"The situation hasn't changed! The world still hangs-"
"Don't you dare give me that speech! This is nothing like the Angels! This is just you and your, your pride!" Shinji interrupted.
Gendo eyes flared at his son's dismissal of his plans, "Pride! You child! What can you know of my reasons?! What do you know about sacrifice?! You stand there casting judgement on me about what you've been through, but you will not accept the work I've put in to secure your future!"
Shinji screamed back, "I don't want your future!"
Deep below the surface, as the American soldiers poured into the upper levels of the factory, Selee Two made his escape.
It was an odd feeling for the grey haired man, as he hobbled down a catwalk, cane clicking on the metal as he went. It was a feeling that you never encountered much when you regularly spent the lives of thousands of people, often at the same time.
But it was definitely there. A faint feeling of regret. He scarcely imagined it possible; the parts of him that had been replaced with the latest in robotics to lengthen his life had taken away all but the necessary glands and organs necessary to produce the appropriate chemical for emotion. Consequently he felt no anger, no jealousy, and no lust. The only feelings that he was aware of was his sense of self preservation, his duty to mankind and his obsession with money.
But the regret was still there. Was it because he had left that fresh-faced lieutenant, his second in command, to face the faceless Nerv soldiers alone? No, the lieutenant was a fool, and insignificant to the grander picture. Nerv was almost doing the world a favour by removing him from existence. So why... ah. He had left his favourite mug behind. You could not buy that mug any more; the company that had produced it had winked off the face of the earth during the second impact.
Oh well, when making an escape sacrifices had to be made. And he owed much of his life to perfecting the art of running away, usually with a bag full of profits. He always planned an escape route, and this particular one started with the monorail system that ran the length of the factory.
And he had already moved any information of value to his secure deposit bank electronically, along with the remaining budget from the factory. There was little in the way of profit, but had always believed in taking a deposit from consumers before making anything substantial. Losses, though heavy on this venture, but not as bad as they could have been.
He rounded a corner, to see the monorail car resting in pieces under a pile of rubble. He sighed, and began the long walk down the factory. It was a few miles, and would take several hours at his top speed. That did not matter, the vehicle he had procured for his discrete exit was one of the finest stealth craft of the day. He could take his leave when he wanted.
The sounds of the battle far overhead seemed insignificant to the click of a cane on the factory floor.
"Sir! We have reports from the front about large mechanicals appearing from the factory! Description fits the combat Jet Alone profile!"
The colonel sighed, "Guess we aren't going to be able to take them in tact. Lady this is your field of experience," he said turning to Misato, "What's the best way to use those toys of yours?"
Misato smiled, "Against those things? Their power sources are hydrogen fuel cells right?"
A minor officer piped up, "Intel says yes."
Misato grinned evilly and picked up a headset radio, "Then all we have to do is point her at them. Asuka?"
"Little busy now Misato..."
"It's okay, you can stop maintaining the field."
"Oh thank god!"
"Can you see the Jet Alones coming out of the factory?"
"Yeah?"
"Destroy them."
There was a momentary pause before Asuka spoke again, "Manned or unmanned?"
Misato looked around the command deck, "Anyone know?"
Another minor officer rushing past yelled over his shoulder, "Communications reports picking up weirdly coded signals. That suggests machine code instructions."
"Unmanned Asuka. Have fun!" Misato said.
"Will do!" Asuka replied, her voice full of excitement and relief.
"Colonel!" yelled the intelligence officer.
"What now?" grumbled the old veteran.
"We have pictures from the battlefield. You might want to take a look at this..."
The colonel hustled over to the officers monitor. Bending down to examine the pictures closer he swore, "What the god damn hell?!"
Misato rushed over to look at the pictures, "What's wrong?"
The colonel looked at her, venom pouring out of his eyes, "These are pictures of the enemy forces we've taken out. Look at the flags on the tanks and uniforms."
Misato looked closer and gasped. She looked at him in horror, "What does that mean?"
"Those are the stars and stripes little lady. That means we've just taken down one of our own battalions!" he slammed his fist down on the desk. "Someone in Washington's fucked up royal! They've gotten us fighting other Americans!"
Misato straightened up, "I thought we had the full cooperation of this country..."
The colonel glared at her, "That ain't the issue!" he growled, "Those markings are from my old unit! Those were my boys from the Canadian campaign! Someones going to pay for this!"
Asuka literally stood as a demon gatekeeper swinging robotic death with her battleaxe at the mouth of the factory.
She had swept aside all of the jet alones that had already escaped from the factory in a matter of minutes, their metallic carcasses now left to rust in the American countryside as a testament to her brutality to cybernetic imitations of her glorious eva.
Now she stood at the exit way they were flooding forth from, each swing of her axe crushing and cleaving the titanic robots as they obligingly marched to their own destruction. Piles of the mechanical limbs and bodies of the fallen lay on each side of her, and she swung and counted under her breath.
"Thirty-two!" she panted, as another fell under her axe, catching another with the reverse swing, "Thirty-three!"
Now she was having fun!
Finally the flow of robots ended, the last few barely even constructed and merely skeletons with a few motors and servos attached.
She brushed the perceived sweat from her brow, "Misato!" she half sang, "I'm finished!"
"Good job Asuka. Looks like we're pretty much done here, so bring the eva back to the ba- Wait a minute!"
Asuka looked shocked, "Huh? What's wrong?"
"Incoming signals! They match the eva that attacked Tokyo-3!"
Asuka gripped her axe handle with renewed determination, despite the exhaustion from having maintained her AT field for so long. "It's going to be a long day Misato... you better buy me something nice to make up for it."
"Just be careful Asuka, there's two of them. Arsa will be covering you from a distance. We can't risk him in direct combat yet."
Asuka snorted, "Is an eva without an AT field really that useless?"
Misato was silent for a few moments, "Well, they seem to think so," she suddenly said, "They're flying straight for him! Asuka move to intercept!"
Asuka nodded, and checked she had enough line on her power cable to run the distance, "On my way!"
She sprinted a little way towards Arthur's location, and saw the white eva's flying down to the battlefield. She could see their hideously shaped heads, and their impossibly large wings.
She picked up a tree as she passed it, ripping it out of the ground, dirt and grass cascading from it's roots to the valley floor behind her. Her eva skidded to a halt and she used her momentum to hurl the tree at the descending monsters, watching with satisfaction as it connected with their AT fields, splintering into toothpicks from the impact.
"Hey!" she shouted, even though no one could hear her outside the plug, "Why don't you play with someone worth fighting huh?!"
As if they had heard her, the white eva's both circled around, and swooped down to her.
Arthur stared, paralysed by the fear of seeing the white monster of his nightmares again. And now there were two of them. Wings flapping wildly as they swooped and slashed at Asuka's red evangelion. She was swinging her battle axe in wide strokes, not quite having the reach or speed to catch them. Their blows bounced off of her AT field, which looked like it was rapidly decreasing in strength, the orange glow seeming dimmer and dimmer with each strike.
Intellectually he knew he should go help her. It was what his instructors had told him, what popular movies encouraged him to do. But his heart was exploding with fear.
Hands shaking, rattling the joy sticks in his hands, he could only see that night, that monstrous grin, approaching slowly, mocking his lack of power. Even now he could feel it's hands encircling his neck, the absolute impotence he felt as it lifted him off the ground, and squeezed him gently to death, a virtual god proving to a worthless existence just how fragile it's grip on life was.
He could hear Misato yelling something at him through the radio. The colonels voice was there two, a constant berating tone, even if he was not conscious of the words. He could not understand them, his mind totally blanked by terror.
His hands finally shook free from the control sticks, and he lost the feling from his eva's senses. They dropped, shaking freely, the vibration of his muscles mirroring the crazed pounding of his heart.
They brushed past something.
Numbly he looked down at the cap badge, swaying gently in the LCL.
Those three words.
Resolve pumped into his veins, fuelled by memories of his instructors, of his uncle, even of his mother and his father. Recent images of men collapsing under his eva's rifle threw oil onto the fire of his sudden certainty, the shame of only going so far to keep his word emboldening him into action.
He raised his still shaking hand, glaring at it as if it were the worlds greatest traitor. Fury forced his fingers to slowly close, and he clenched his hand into a fist, willing the unwanted vibration to dissipate. His fist wobbled for a few seconds more, but went still.
The next few moments were lost in a haze of brave thoughtlessness. He was aware of running across the plain, his power cable dropped uselessly behind him. He saw the battery timer for his eva flash and rapidly count down as he leaped over the factory roof and bringing one of he white evas down as he landed.
He remembered cirling his arms around it into a fierce bear hug, totally unwilling to let go. He felt them both roll onto the factory roof, Asuka screaming German profanities at him, and Misato equally yelling fierce instructions at him.
The factory roof was already weakened by the air strike, and the countless thuds and earthquakes caused by artillery fire and Asuka's brawl with the jet alones. It cracked, tendrils spreading in all directions, and he fell into darkness, taking the production model monster with him. He felt it kick him away, just as he slammed into the factory floor, machinery crumbling underneath him as he bounced further into the darkness.
Arthur rose to his feet, his heart pounding. It had the edge over him. He only had, he checked, three minutes of power left. After that it would all be over and that guy would try and finish off Asuka. He could not let that happen. The monitor system registered the low light levels, activating the night vision backups. He was surrounded by an eerie green glow, that failed to present him with a clear view of the world. Assuming it to be too dark for even the sophisticated detection systems, he strained his eyes to take stock of his surroundings.
His eva barely fit in the factory. He had a clearance of about twenty metres from his shoulder blades to the roof. He grimaced. This fight was not going to be pleasant. The low ceiling would make any kind of manoeuvring difficult, and if his combat instructors had taught him anything, it was that restrictive situations were to be avoided.
He hit a few buttons on his control panel, and the progressive knife flipped out of it's housing. He grabbed it, and was knocked aside by the white eva's charge. He hadn't seen it coming, it was too dark. He could barely see.
The two evas crashed into more expensive sounding equipment. Arthur ended up underneath it again, but this time he brought the eva's knees up into a ball and kicked it up. He heard it thump into the ceiling, and car sized chunks of concrete bounced off his armour. It fell to the ground next to him, and he leapt his eva on top of it, striking down with the knife. It gripped his knife arm, and a struggle began between them, both fighting to gain control over the weapon.
He could almost feel the other pilots fear, his desperate attempt to humanise his opponent. He could sense the aggression pouring off of him. He was only a few dozen metres from him, lost in the green enhanced haze. Locked in a gutter fight, the two evas each trying to gain the upper hand. In the dark, a mad scramble for the last one standing, both feeding off of each others survival instinct. Arthur could smell the anger buzzing around him, a chaotic mess of sensations, yet infinitely focused on the pilot in the other war machine.
The white eva, in an act of desperation, brought it's head up sharply, neatly nutting the green eva. Arthur was stunned from the impact, stars exploding in his eyes. He lost control of the eva for a second, the shock causing the eva to slacken it's grip on the weapon. The white demon took advantage of this, twisting the green eva's arm around and plunging the knife into it's chest. Arthur gasped as the pain swept across him. The green eva snarled in protest, and the knee came up sharply between the attacker's legs, a learnt reflex from back alley scraps where both sides forgot whatever reasons they had, and just went for the throat.
This did not appear to have the desired effect of leaving the other guy in a helpless ball, probably due to the fact that the other pilot remembered that evas aren't equipped in that fashion. What it did result in was the other eva forcing Arthur over onto his back, flattening more of the factory equipment as he went. It reached over and dragged the knife, still plunged up to the hilt in the green eva, across the body, a jet of blood disappearing into the darkness of the roof.
Arthur was in agony, the fire across his chest burning away any rational thought. The white eva was quick to push it's advantage, vaulting on top of his eva, simultaneously squeezing with it's legs and pummelling it's midsection. Arthur shut his eyes tightly, hoping to God the pain would end. His arms were tight across his chest, warding off the invisible fists that battered him.
The white eva stopped it's pummelling, instead driving it's hand into the green evas chest. It got a good grip on the chest armour and wrenched it away, tearing a good amount of flesh with it. Arthur felt as though he would pass out from the pain. He fuzzily heard an electronic voice tell him that Carbon Dioxide was being pumped into the LCL mix. Evidently the life support systems had picked up on the fact he was hyperventilating. Increasing the carbon dioxide content reduced oxygen dependency, keeping the pilot more or less sane. No amount of clever biology was going to keep Arthur's heart from beating out of his chest.
The white eva began to dig through the soft inner tissue of the British made eva, blood oozing out into the factory, chunks of meat clinging to the now unused tools. Arthur felt it all as though it were his own body, the monster blindly groping his own chest, ripping apart his ribs, revelling in the ravaging of his innards. Sanity was not something he wanted right now.
And yet he could do nothing.
He could barely think.
He had no defence against this white monstrosity. And to be fair, he started it. His body screamed at his mind to make it stop, to somehow make the hurting go away. But he couldn't. The pain was too intense, far worse than that first dreaded night near Dover.
He was going to die in this cold worthless place, somewhere by rights he should not be, instead enjoying the carefree life that was owed to him. Not here, blinded by darkness, under the tender mercies of a butcher, heart beat ringing in his ears, blotting out the guttural war chant of his enemy.
He imagined himself being torn limb from limb. He imagined a world where the pain had stopped because he had died. He imagined the white eva rising victorious from the factory to attack Asua, move on to to kill Misato at the command post, fly to England to lay waste to his home, and wipe out any last vestiges of his existence.
He discovered an intense hatred for this monster, this demon that plagued his nightmares for so long. How dare it single him out! How dare it ravage his body like this! How dare it even think of torturing him like this, of savaging his already exhausted mind with it's gouging attacks.
How dare it!
His right shoulder blade cracked open. The white eva stopped its grisly excavation to examine this new development. Art gripped the pilots sticks with a vigour born of self preservation, eyes blazing intensely in the animal lust for survival. He felt something wash out from him, and intense desire to cause pain, to destroy.
His eva's arms reached up, and rammed the white demon onto the shoulder blade. The eva emitted a low rumble of primal fury. The wave of loathing and hatred covered the white eva, and he could feel something vanish under his onslaught of emotions. There was a series of pops as the gas launched grenades fired from the blade housing, with enough concussive force to demolish several city blocks.
The white eva was blasted away, it's AT field totally cancelled by Arthur's blood lust, leaving him with the more immediate problem of a half torn out chest and now another wound from the grenade explosions. He tried to get the eva to stand so it could escape, but the best he could manage was a crawl.
"Move you lousy piece of junk..." he grunted drowsily, the burst of emotion and torturous pain sapping him of his will to fight, almost wrenching the joysticks from their housings, willing the eva to move faster. The white eva landed with a heavy thud next to him. An alarm wailed in his ear. He glanced at the damage readout. The blast had gotten more of him than he had thought, the plug life support systems were failing. He could taste the subtle change in the LCL, once a tasteless goo, now something reminiscent of blood, the filtration systems finally letting the natural pollutants run free.
Seeing he could not escape, Arthur settled for tearing his opponent apart. He would be damned if he gave up now, not after all he had gone through. And he was far too out of it to think of anything more complex. The LCL in the plug was rapidly becoming unusable, much like blood in the body if separated from the lungs for too long. He was becoming short of breath, oxygen deprivation getting the better of him. Little black dots started to pop out of his vision, in stark contrast to the red haze in the corners of his eyes, all adding to the green glow of the monitors to produce a nauseating assault on his eyes.
The green eva punched up off the floor, it's pilot grunting with the exertion, landing on top of the production model. Weakly his eva clenched around the others chest armour, gripping it tightly with its fingers. But the white eva was not going to allow that. Snarling it brought it's legs up, kicking Arthur's eva into the factory. Arthur had kept a hold of the chest plate though, and it was torn free, exposing the eva series' own skin.
Arthur was now nearly out for the count. His attempt to save Asuka had turned into a complete failure. His power was nearly gone as the white eva lifted him up, ramming him into the ceiling. The green eva was impaled to the factory roof by it's shoulder blades.
The white eva began to hit him. The force of the blows gently swayed the green eva back and forth. Arthur could barely feel the pain now. His world was now fuzzy, growing dark at the edges, black lines feeling in from the corner of his vision. The plug's life support must have been destroyed in the grenade explosions. He was finding it hard to breathe
Dumbly, he rolled his head over to where his power read out was. Barely twenty seconds worth of useful power. And there only two things holding him in position. He could taste his anger in the warm, foul smelling plug. The arrogance of that monster to think he would succumb to humiliation. Well, he would see how defeated this pilot was.
Dreamily his hand wandered down to a small panel to the side of his chair. He opened it to reveal another console, something only the plug technicians were supposed to know about. He keyed in a number combination, and a small lever popped out on the other side of the seat. This would release the eva from it's shoulder blades, the battery supply for the eva. If he released it he would have roughly two seconds of useful power. It was certain death. Arthur gripped it, and pulled anyway.
Hydraulic clamps keeping the shoulder blades in place suddenly went slack. The green eva dropped from the ceiling, sliding cleanly from the shoulder pads. The white eva recoiled in shock from the sudden movement.
Arthur barely thought about his actions. The green eva stepped forward, almost on autopilot, thrusting his hand through the exposed flesh of the white eva, delving deep, past the organs, past the muscle and bones, a gauntlet of fury brushing aside the production models defences.
He gripped something that felt like a smooth gem and squeezed.
And the world turned to fire.
"I'm leaving this city, and I'm going to get as far away from you as I can," Shinji screamed.
"I'll have you arrested!" Gendo threatened.
"You can try, but you'll have to explain to the rest of the world why the boy that saved them from the Angels is suddenly a criminal!"
Gendo changed tack, "And if you don't stay in this city, where will you go?!"
"Back to my teacher's house. He was more of a father than you ever were!" Shinji yelled, his resolve pumping more confidence into his voice than he had ever felt in front of his father before.
Gendo's mind flailed wildly in his head, increasingly desperate to keep his son by his side. And then his madly searching psyche settled upon Shinji's greatest weakness, the one thought he knew would bind his son to him forever.
"Good bye father. You won't see me again," Shinji said, spinning around and walking out of the office.
"And so when people need you, you're going to run away?" Gendo half snarled.
Shinji stopped at the door way. He hesitated for a few moments. Rage, bile, all justifiable dark emotions slammed against his deep desire to be accepted, his simple wish for his father to like him, to be proud of him, to stem the flow of that little boys tears as he clutched his suitcase at the train station.
But he had given in to that blubbering kid before.
"No," he said, "I'm walking."
The door didn't slam behind him. It closed normally, clicking dully, but echoing loudly in Gendo's head.
Gendo sat down heavily in his chair, and angrily pulled out some paper work from his desk, attacking the bureaucracy with an animalistic vigour, his Nerv issue pen jabbing and ruthlessly stabbing the forms and reports.
But slowly his frustration faded, melting away with the ink from his pen.
His work became slower, more laboured, his pen strokes lingering on each page a little longer with each passing minute, until it no longer travelled across the lines, marking his thoughts down for the next person to read.
The pen clattered to the desk. His hand went limp, and his neck seemed to loose the strength to hold up his head.
He let himself fall forward onto the desk, not caring about the papers any more.
Perhaps this time he had gone too far, and pushed too much, trusted in his son's desire to please him without thinking about the consequences for too long. Shinji was one of the last remnants of Yui that he had, both a painful but necessary reminder of his wife.
Perhaps this time he had lost him for good.
Men who do great things like Gendo, no matter what we think about their motivation or outcome, still deserve respect. We'll leave him now, to save him his shame as honest emotion prevailed in his heart.
The man who used to have so much influence and power on the worlds economy now lay under rubble, breathing the acrid ash filled air as heavily as his mechanically augmented lungs would allow.
He could not believe it. Of all the damned luck. Just as he had been making good his escape plan, two obstacles had literally fallen out of the sky. The member of Selee sighed. Irritating evangelions bringing their fight inside the factory. Didn't they realise the cost of the equipment used in the manufacture of Jet Alones. Nerv had a lot to answer for indeed.
Not to mention the cost of pinning a member of Selee underneath a ton of rubble. He had heard the fall of the two giant mecha, not really paying it much heed. They had been far to far down the factory to bother him that much, and he was nearly at his escape craft anyway. However, whatever the evangelions had done to get in to the factory had caused the roof to come down on him. He had, in retrospect, been fortunate. The rubble had merely crushed a lot of the prosthetics which made up a good proportion of his body, a lot of the organic parts had been left relatively in tact.
Then the explosion had come, roasting his flesh and nearly blinding him with it's ferocity. Again, fate had been cruelly kind to him. The rubble which was slowly squeezing away his life had protected him from the worst of the blast.
The downside to this was the fact he could not escape. He was unable to move in any serious fashion, and unless a kindly soul came down here to help him, he would either be captured, or would simply die of starvation. Neither prospect filled him with much hope, but the idea of starving to death was not as honourable a passing as he had hoped.
There was the sound of footsteps. Perhaps it was a kindly soul? He doubted it. They were getting closer now. The old man twisted his head to try and see the face of the person who was approaching. He couldn't quite see the face, but the uniform was pretty clear. The uniform of a Nerv sergeant, prepped for combat. He had signed the document releasing funds for them himself. He was already regretting that.
"So, you have found me."
The sergeant squatted next to the old man. He reached down to the old man's jacket, dusting away some ashen scraps of clothing, checking that the badge of Selee was there. The sergeant stood back up.
"Are you going to take me into custody? Or has Ikari got other plans for his former superiors?"
He heard the subtle click of a safety catch being released.
"I see."
To be continued...
Pre-Finishing A/N: Must... finish... chapter! RAARGH!!
Pre-Finishing A/N 2: *gasp* Nearly...*wheeze* there... DORYAAAH!
A/N: Chapter... out. *thud*
In retrospect I should have broken this up into two chapters, but that would break the overall plan for the entire story. The problem here is that action takes a lot of description to get across the right feeling, and since this is Athur's first outing I wanted you as a reader to be as overwhelmed as him by the experience.
Similarly with Asuka, her parts are shorter because she's thinking less about what she's doing. At first she's focused on maintaining her field, and later she's simply going through combat motions against the JAs.
Gendo was tricky here. I think he slips a little out of character, but I think given the extra work load he's put on himself, and the emotional weight of dealing with his sons rejection would allow him to crack a bit. And I wanted to show his more human side.
Still waiting for my first review since the first chapter, but massive thanks to the people who have favourited or put this story on alert. You guys be awesome!