October 25th, 2010

"Luckily, they must have targeted Unit Four rather than Unit Seven; we were just outside the epicentre of the blast and the armour let us survive. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for one side or another to pick us up," Michael said.

"And nothing happened in the interim?" the judge asked.

"No, sir," Michael replied. "We only had the air in the plug to breathe, and neither of us wanted to get a lungful of fallout so going outside was out of the question. We just sat there for a while – didn't even talk."

"So what happened when General Hanson and his soldiers arrived?"

"The first we heard of their arrival was them knocking on the entry plug..."

September 3rd, 2010

The cockpit opened with a clang, a pair of rifle barrels shoved through the opening before Michael could react. A bright light blinded him for a moment. When he recovered, he raised his hands, motioning for Rose to do the same.

"Come on out," said a voice from outside the cockpit, so Michael jumped down through the hole, helped by a gloved hand.

A man in an Royal Army officer's uniform – a general - stood, surrounded by soldiers. Each had their rifle pointed at Michael. Behind the group, a pair of transport helicopters waited, rotor blades spinning. A gunship VTOL – one of the latest models, Michael noted – hovered above, its guns trained on Unit 07.

"Relax, sir," Michael begun, hands still raised. "We're on the same side. I'm Lieutenant -" A blow from behind cut him off. One of the soldiers who'd brought him out had hit him with his rifle.

"You're under arrest, Lieutenant. The charges are insubordination, misappropriation of Army resources, and interference with an Army operation resulting in the failure of said operation and the deaths of – who the hell is this?" said the officer, as Rose climbed down from the cockpit.

"The other Evangelion's pilot, sir," Michael said, forcing his mind to think tactically again. I can't panic now, he thought, I need to think of a way out of this. Why is this even happening? The general smiled as he processed what Michael said. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Let's add "aiding an enemy combatant in a time of war" to your list of charges, shall we?" he said. So that's it, Michael thought, this is a power play or something. A sense of relief washed over him – he wouldn't have to deal with this alone. The Admiral's not going to like this.

"I would like it on the record," Michael said, "That she's a prisoner of war and not an enemy combatant."

"Prisoners of war, Lieutenant, don't often carry pistols. At least, not in the Army. And it's "Sir", Lieutenant -"

A voice broke Michael from his memory.

October 25th, 2010

"I object! He's manipulating his testimony to make me sound unreasonable! I presented him with his charges and placed him under arrest, and that is all I did!" General Hanson shouted. The judge glared at the general, and Michael relaxed a little. Keep annoying the judge, General, and this should be over soon.

"Objection overruled! We have witness testimony from your own soldiers in the form of their helmet footage, and the Lieutenant's charge sheet clearly shows that "Aiding an enemy combatant in a time of war" was added after the other charges. The Lieutenant's testimony so far has been far more accurate than your own, General," said the judge. "Continue, Lieutenant."

"That was pretty much all of it, sir. The General took me into custody, and I spent a lot of time in a cell," said Michael.

"Very well then. Now that all the testimony and evidence has been submitted, the court will adjourn to decide on a ruling. Unless anyone has any further objections?" said the judge, looking pointedly at General Hanson.

Michael was marched out of the courtroom by two military police officers, and into a deserted canteen set aside for his use. Another of the General's ploys, it seemed; he could have sworn that the accused was normally allowed to mix with people during breaks. Or maybe that was just on the TV.

He sat on one of the long tables, hands unconsciously folding in front of his face as he stared at the guards. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until a woman brought in some food. Michael looked at the plate, and sighed. Yup. Spaghetti, boiled potatoes and gravy, he thought, it's like someone went through my file and found all the foods I hate... and then mixed them together. Either that or the cooking staff here are really, really bad. He pushed the plate to the guards, motioning them to eat. "I'm not hungry," he said. It was true; even though he hadn't eaten since waking up early enough to see the dawn (not that the dawn today was even worth looking at, he thought, bloody clouds everywhere), the concoction he'd been given had been enough to deal with his hunger.

Neither of the guards moved. So it's going to be like that, Michael thought, and settled in for a long wait. He was, in fact, just about to fall asleep when another guard walked into the room – slamming the doors open, of course – and declared that the judge was ready to give a verdict.

"All rise," said the MP acting as bailiff. Michael hadn't bothered sitting down; he got the feeling he was going to be on his feet for a while.

The judge finally took his seat, and began the proceedings. "After reviewing the evidence and testimony given to me by the various concerned parties, I am now ready to give my verdict," he said. "Firstly, on the charge of "Misappropriation of Army resources", the defence has made it clear that the resources concerned were properly signed for in accordance with Army regulations. Therefore, I am dismissing this charge. Secondly, on the charge of "Interference with an Army operation", I draw the court's attention to two facts. Firstly, the Navy's Evangelion Task Force was explicitly asked to assist in the St. Louis operation. Secondly, as mentioned before, Unit Seven's actions when berserker are not those of its pilot. On the basis of these two points, I am dismissing this charge. Thirdly, I am dismissing the charge of "Aiding an enemy combatant in a time of war" on the grounds that the person described as an enemy combatant was, in fact, a prisoner of war, and that even if she was a combatant it is a soldier's duty to save people – regardless of affiliation – in a situation like the one the Lieutenant found himself in."

Michael let out a sigh of relief. It seemed he'd won.

"However!" Shit. The judge was still talking. "The charge of "insubordination" still stands. The Lieutenant's remarks to Colonel Jones during the battle for St. Louis were unprofessional, and disrespectful of the chain of command. Therefore, I find the defendant guilty of this charge." Even though he hadn't turned around, Michael just knew the General was grinning. He felt his heart sink. "This military court gives me the power to determine whatever sentence I see fit for whatever offence I find the defendant guilty of," continued the judge. Here it comes, thought Michael. "It is traditional to ask the prosecution what punishment should be inflicted in these cases. I will not do so." Michael looked up in surprise. What the hell is he up to? he thought. "I will instead remand the defendant into the custody of his superior officer, to be punished as said superior sees fit. Admiral Jones, I believe you are the Lieutenant's commanding officer?"

"Yes, sir," said the Admiral.

"Then the defendant is yours to deal with. This court is dismissed."

That, it seemed, was that.

It was several hours later by the time Michael and the Admiral managed to get back to friendly territory; a Navy frigate moored at a riverside. The city's famous archway sat before the bank opposite, somehow still intact. The Admiral ushered Michael into the ship's wardroom, a plate proclaiming that this ship was the HMS Lancaster. A row of battle honour showed the ship's history; Michael noted that he'd fought alongside the Lancaster several times – Blackpool, the St. Lawrence Gulf, the Bahamas campaign, New Orleans...

"She's been with the Task Force since day one," said the Admiral. "The Red Rose was my first command, back in the nineties. I even took her through Second Impact. Strange to be aboard her again."

"I never noticed," replied Michael. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten yet today. "I hate to ask, sir, but could you please send for some food?"

"What," Admiral Jones said, "They didn't feed you? I'm pretty sure that's actually illegal, you should have said something."

"They gave me food, although calling it such would be a stretch even for General Hanson," Michael said.

The Admiral laughed. "I'll send for something. You want to eat now, or do you want to hear the news?"

Michael mulled it over. "News first. I've been out of the loop for way too long," he said.

"Well," the Admiral began, "It turns out St. Louis was the last straw. The Americans are suing for peace."

"That's... pretty big news. How come they didn't mention that in court?" Michael asked.

"Hanson kept you separate from everyone else, and your guards were his men. Anyway, that's not all of it. Apparently, the UN's pushing from their end too. There's some debate over whether or not we get to keep anything, but even if they let us we'd probably just let the people involved form their own countries or something. We're stretched way too thin to have another Empire."

"Are they ever going to tell us why they attacked? Aside from the normal excuses, anyway," Michael asked.

"I doubt it. Some conspiracy nuts are saying that they knew about Unit Seven before they invaded and that's why, but it doesn't hold up. We didn't know about Unit Seven until you brought down half the invasion force, and the CIA's a bunch of amateurs compared to MI6. It's probably going to be debated until the end of time or possibly until people stop caring. But the real fun is some of the consequences of this whole "peace" thing. As part of the deal, we're getting every last bit of the United States' Evangelion programme. That's not as good as it sounds; they managed to get Unit Three out of the country and into Israel's custody before they nuked St Louis – and let me tell you that's been like dropping an incendiary on an oil depot – but we get their data, equipment, and most importantly, their personnel."

"Tell me this isn't going where I think it's going, sir."

"It is. We were running tests with Rose in Unit Seven while you were in custody." The Admiral noticed the look on Michael's face, and continued quickly. "Before you say anything, the techs are saying she's not quite able to use Unit Seven as well as you; I couldn't understand a word they said but it seems she'll be in training for solo ops for a while."

"You say "solo ops" like there's an alternative..."

"You're quick on the uptake today, Mike. The techs said there's a way to solve your berserker problem, so they've rigged up a dual-pilot system. The idea is, you do the actual piloting while she keeps you from going berserker, watches your back with the on-board weapons and also operates the nuclear reactor we're giving you."

"Wait, what? Aren't those... kind of dangerous?" Michael shuddered at the thought of carrying around a nuclear bomb strapped to his back.

"Not as much as people think. Most of our submarines carry them, and they don't have the advantage of the AT Field to protect them from incoming fire. Besides, the design we're giving you is heavily automated, and Rose is actually pretty smart; the techs say she's pretty much mastered the simulations. Besides, with the reactor you'll be able to operate nearly indefinitely, and we'll be able to start independent Evangelion operations. Combined with the Rapid Reaction System, and we can put an invasion force anywhere on the planet within twenty-four hours which is nearly impossible to defeat. With some recent advances in drone technology, and maybe some of those new three-d fabricators NERV has been hiding, and we can take over any country in three days. At least, that's how I sold it to Her Majesty; I just don't want to see you going berserker again. I still remember picking you up after the first time."

Michael smiled. "It's not like I want to go berserker, sir. It just... happens," he said. The conversation stalled for a while, both lost in thought. A rumble from Michael's torso broke the silence.

"I could use that food around about now, sir," Michael said.