Chapter 9: On a Wing and a Prayer

You love a lot of things if you live around them, but there isn't any woman and there isn't any horse, nor any before nor any after, that is as lovely as a great airplane, and men who love them are faithful to them even though they leave them for others.

-Ernest Hemingway

"Mornin' Shinji!" Toji and Kensuke greeted their new pal in unison as the door to apartment 11-A slid open.

Before he could reply, the two boys shoved their heads past him into the doorway. "Good morning, miss Misato!" they both called down the entry hall.

Shinji just shook his head. "Don't bother, she's still sleeping," he said with a smirk at their crestfallen expressions. There would be no glimpse of his beautiful guardian for his love-struck friends today. He suspected they wouldn't be so smitten if they had to clean up after her like he did, but he humoured them and kept his mouth shut as they waxed about how lucky he was to live with such a babe while he tied his shoes and grabbed his bag.

"Ya got your gym clothes? We got an hour of basketball after lunch, and the girls have swimming. You know what that means don't ya..." Toji said with mischievous grin.

"Yeah, I got 'em. And don't you guys ever think about anything else other than girls?" Shinji answered with a weary sigh as the trio made their way out the door and headed for the elevator.

Toji shrugged. "I think about sports sometimes, and this geek is obsessed with all that military crap, so yeah, we think about plenty, wise guy." The jock answered with mock indignation and playful shove.

The three continued their banter as Shinji hit the button for the elevator. Oddly, the doors opened almost immediately. Usually, they had to wait for it to come all the way up from the lobby, but today it was already on its way down.

As they doors parted, the three were confronted by a wall of blue-grey wool. Looking up, Shinji found a pair of tired eyes and a surprised face that was familiar to him by now.

"Oh. Mornin' boys," the Major greeted them amiably as he stepped back to make room in the elevator. Shinji casually returned the greeting as he entered and stood beside the man. Turning, he saw that his friends hadn't followed him.

"I-it's you..." Toji nervously stammered as the pair stood with matching shocked expressions for a moment, before suddenly bowing deeply to the bemused foreigner.

"...What's all this?" he turned to Shinji and asked with a thoroughly confused expression. The boy could only shrug, before Kensuke launched into a nervous explanation.

"P-please forgive us, sir. You saved our lives that day, and we never even thanked you for it. Y'know, during the battle."

"Yeah mister, if it weren't for you we woulda been toast." Toji echoed his friend's sentiment.

Shinji exchanged an amused look with the man, before he addressed the kowtowing boys. "C'mon, knock that off, you two. You wouldn't have even been in danger if you hadn't helped me, so let's call it even, alright?" He reached out a hand, as though offering a truce.

Toji and Kensuke rose and nodded solemnly, each shaking the man's hand in agreement before narrowly making it into the elevator before the doors closed.

"And besides," the Major continued with a pointed look at Toji as the elevator began to descend, "we all would've been toast if weren't for Shinji here, it's him you should be thanking."

Shinji blushed and looked down at his shoes, while Toji shifted uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah, uh, don't worry mister. We squared things up, see?" the jock muttered sheepishly and pointed to his prominent black eye. The Major took notice of it for the first time, leaning in to examine it with a low whistle.

"That's quite the shiner." He turned to Shinji with a raised eyebrow. "You did that?"

"Y-yeah."

He nodded approvingly. "Not bad kid. You're tougher than you look."

"Boy is he ever, he laid Toji right out on the pavement. Poor guy couldn't even open that eye for a couple days." Kensuke chipped in with a giggle.

Toji shot him a glare. "Whatever, at least we're even now, right Shinji?"

"R-right."

The Major just chuckled and shook his head. "Man, I wish politicians and lawyers settled their disputes the same way. The world would be a much better place if they did."

"Damn right!" Toji answered, puffing his chest out in pride.

With that, they rode in silence for a moment, before an uncharacteristically nervous Kensuke cleared his throat and addressed the Major.

"Uh, excuse me sir, but if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

"I live here." the man answered flatly, before jutting a finger towards the bespectacled boy in mock accusation. "What are you doing here, if you don't my asking?"

Kensuke shrugged. "We're picking up Shinji. We walk to school together so we can get there early and help him catch up on all the stuff he missed over the past few weeks."

The Major nodded. "That's awfully decent of you, boys."

Shinji couldn't help but roll his eyes at Kensuke's faux nobility. "Yeah, right. You guys just want to get an eyeful of miss Misato." The two miscreants blushed, while the Major had a laugh at their expense as the elevator doors opened.

"Well, I can't say I blame you. I'm sure young Shinji here has seen things in that apartment that us mere mortals can only dream of." All three of Shinji's companions drifted off in thought as they strode across the lobby. The boy could only shake his head.

"Yeah, well, you guys don't have to live with her. She's a real mess when she isn't at work. You should see her after she's been drinking..."

"Boy would I like to..." Toji said wistfully. Shinji could see he may as well be talking to a brick wall, so he remained silent and left his friend to his fantasies as they emerged into the morning sunlight.

Kensuke, meanwhile, was staring up at the Major, examining every detail of his uniform and the green bag he carried, which was covered with a multitude of different patches and decorated, strangely, with a faded image of the grim reaper. The hooded apparition held one arm outstretched, its skeletal hand pointing at something with a bony index finger, while the other clutched a massive scythe.

Shinji watched curiously as Kensuke's gaze fixed on the morbid image, an expression of recognition suddenly crossing his bespectacled face. The boy looked back up at the Major, recognition giving way to awe-struck admiration is his expression. He tried to say something, but before he could untie his tongue, the man stepped off the sidewalk towards the apartment complex's parking lot. He bid the boys good day, quickly striding off in the direction of his derelict truck before Kensuke could speak whatever was on his mind.

"Um, you okay, man?" Toji eyed his friend with concern as he stood there staring at the Major's retreating back with his mouth hanging open.

"Shinji, what's that guy's name?" Kensuke uttered, quickly wheeling to face him.

"Um, I don't remember. He told me once, but it was kind of hard to pronounce, so miss Misato told me to just call him by his rank."

"Bishop? Does that sound familiar?"

"Y-yeah, I think that's it, why?"

Kensuke didn't answer for a moment. Instead, he hurriedly took off his backpack and began digging through it, producing a thick book entitled 'Hell come to Earth: A History of the Impact Wars.'

"Whaddya carry books like that around for anyways..." Kensuke paid no mind to Toji's comment, frantically flipping through until he found what he was looking for.

"I thought he seemed familiar when we ran into him that day, but I couldn't quite remember why. There!" he exclaimed, handing the book over to Shinji and pointing to a picture on the open page. Leaning forward to examine it, he saw that it was a photo of two men standing below an aircraft of the same type the Major flew for NERV. Both were dressed in flying gear, and it took a moment for Shinji to recognize one of them.

He had a silly looking moustache, but there was nothing silly about his lean, sharp face and the murderous look in his piercing grey eyes. Directly above the two men was a much larger version of the emblem on the Major's bag. It was painted on the side of the aircraft, pointing towards the nose with its skeletal finger. Also painted on the aircraft just behind the image of death were a series of tally marks; more than Shinji could be bothered to count.

His eyes shifted to the caption below the image, which read 'Many fighter pilots around the world became aces by scoring 5 or more victories in the massive aerial battles of the Impact wars, but none could match Captain Bob 'Hound Dog' Bishop of the Royal Canadian Air Force, pictured above posing in front of his aircraft with radar operator Captain Hank 'Cheap' Hooker. The pair decorated their mount with a distinct grim reaper emblem, inspired by the insignia of world war 2 ace Willie McKnight. Bishop's 43 officially credited victories made him the most successful fighter pilot since the second world war, and the 'ace of aces' of the jet era. He was awarded the Victoria Cross, the commonwealth's highest award for bravery, for an action in which he continued to to fly a damaged and burning aircraft for over 100 kilometres, suffering serious burns over much of his body to make a crash-landing just behind friendly lines, saving the life of his wounded and unconscious radar operator who was unable to eject.

"He was my idol when I was little. My dad even took me to an airshow to meet him once while he was in Japan, it was one of the best days of my life..." Shinji wasn't sure how to feel about this. His eyes remained fixed on the page, wondering how many lives those tally marks represented as Kensuke continued to gush like a star-struck schoolgirl.

He knew the Major was some sort of war hero, but he never would have imagined from his friendly disposition that he was a killer like the man in this photo clearly was. The person on the page looked somehow... older than the person he knew, despite it being taken over a decade ago. There was no warmth whatsoever in his eyes or expression, and from the morbid emblem displayed on his aircraft it seemed that he took pride in his prowess as a hunter of human beings.

Shinji was still wracked with guilt over the possibility that he may have unintentionally gotten someone killed during his first battle in the Eva; he couldn't fathom being proud of intentionally taking so many lives.

"It's just not fair!" Kensuke whined as Shinji handed the book back to him. "You get to pilot the Eva, your roommate is an absolute babe, and your neighbour is my childhood hero. I just hope you appreciate how lucky you are..."

Lucky him. He had to go out and face cosmic horrors to defend a world that hated him. His roommate was a disaster of a human being when she wasn't ordering him to fight said cosmic horrors, and the first grown-up he'd ever had a real conversation with, who he felt like he could maybe look up to, was a cold-blooded murderer who'd likely killed more people than Shinji had ever met.

He thought about trying to explain this to his friend, but decided it would be waste of breath. Instead, he simply nodded his agreement.

"Yeah," he mumbled passively as the trio walked on. "Lucky."

The howl of the engine was music to his ears.

Seated in the Avenger's cockpit, Bishop watched the oil pressure and exhaust temperature gauges like a hawk as the jet strained against the wheel chocks and stout chains holding it in place on camp Fuji's dilapidated tarmac. After several minutes at full afterburner, he saw nothing of concern, and the mechanics watching from outside signaled that all was well on their end, so he pulled the throttle back to the cut-off position and allowed the newly installed engine to come to rest.

In a chipper mood despite the previous day's events, the pilot scurried down the ladder from the cockpit and joined the crew chief, standing beside the burly man on the tarmac and taking in the sight of his mount's silver skin gleaming in the midday sun. The day thus far had been a flurry of activity, transporting the avenger from headquarters and fixing the many leaks and loose bolts discovered during the first few ground-runs of the new engine. Now, it seemed that all the morning's sweat and toil had paid off.

"Well chief, what do you figure? You think she's airworthy?" he said to his jumpsuit clad companion.

Scratching at the stubble on his chin, the JSSDF veteran nodded slowly. "I don't see why not. You gonna take her up, sir?"

The pair exchanged a knowing smile, before Bishop clapped the man on the shoulder. "You're damn right I am. Fill up the tanks and get those chains off her."

"Right away sir!" The chief leapt into action with a broad grin, barking orders to his crew of mechanics who set to work with gusto. The Avenger, like all the great fighters that came before it, commanded the love and devotion of all those who flew and maintained it.

Yes, Bishop thought as he headed for his vehicle to get into his flying gear, staying here might just be alright with him. Just so long as he could fly. Who was he kidding, thinking he could settle into some civilian job back home after having lived this life. This was the world he knew, the world he ruled. A world of fire and steel, where life was a simple matter of knots and feet; where death was only ever one errant twitch of the controls away, and where there was no time to spare for petty concerns like morality.

The thrill of surviving in this world was a high that no drug could provide, and it'd made a hopeless addict out of him. What did he care who he worked for, just so long as he got to continue living in that world.

Reaching the old Datsun truck parked next to the tent hangar, he found all his flying kit where he'd left it in the back. He could certainly have afforded something newer, but it got him from A to B just fine, and reminded him of his first vehicle; an old work truck dad gave him for his sixteenth birthday.

Any reminder of those happier times was something worth cherishing as far as he was concerned.

A reminder of not-so-happy times was his old helmet bag he used to carry around his gear, still decorated with the ghoulish emblem he'd been so foolishly proud of. Shaking his head, he donned the stiff orange pressure suit, and he immediately felt the prickle of sweat down his back as he slipped it on over his flight suit. Next came the torso harness, which connected the pilot to the ejection seat and its integrated parachute. Ensuring that it was done up properly was a matter of life and death; these few straps would be the his only connection to the parachute in the event of having to bail out.

Putting on the harness was a tedious affair, and he was stooped over, entirely absorbed in the task of ensuring the straps around his groin were secure, when a sudden tap on his shoulder caused him to tumble over forwards in surprise. He had been alone out here just a moment ago, and hadn't heard anyone approach.

He knew who the culprit was from the girlish giggling that followed his undignified fall.

"Jesus Christ! Do you just stay awake at nights thinking of ways to give me a heart attack?" he grumbled as he stood to face his assailant. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Katsuragi clucked her tongue in reproach. "Is that any way to speak to your new commanding officer?" she said with a smug grin, reaching into a pocket of her red jacket and retrieving a familiar looking envelope. "Here, I thought you might want his back."

Eyeing her for a moment, he reluctantly snatched his letter of resignation out of her outstretched hand and stuffed it into a pocket of his flight suit. "First of all," he muttered as he resumed the process of donning the harness. "I don't recall having committed to staying. And I don't want to press on a sore spot here, but last time I checked, a Major outranks a Captain."

"Well, technically, you're not a Major as far as NERV is concerned..."

"Oh? What am I, then?"

"An exchange officer. You're more of an... external consultant, at least as far as the bureaucrats are concerned."

"Then why does everyone call me 'Major'? I do have a name, you know."

She shrugged. "Yeah, but it's a little tricky to pronounce with a Japanese accent, while Major has a direct translation. You are a Major, after all, just not a NERV Major."

He supposed that was fair enough, but it raised another issue. "And you're willing to give an external consultant a combat command?" He chuckled at the absurdity of it. "Yep, it's quite the tight ship you people are running here."

"If you want to be commissioned into NERV," she said calmly, unperturbed by his brusqueness, "I'd be more than happy to have you sworn in, but you seem to have pretty strong feelings on the subject of oaths. It wouldn't make any difference, anyways. You could be a general for all I care, but you're part of the operations department now, which means you answer to me. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah." Bishop had no more time to argue semantics with her. Grabbing his helmet, he held in the crook of his elbow. "Now is there something you need from me? Unlike some people, apparently, I have work to do."

"Hey!" she made a show of being wounded by his teasing. "This the first day off I've had in weeks, and I still have to go into headquarters later to help with unit zero's activation test. Cut me a little slack, will ya?"

"Unit zero?"

"Our other Eva unit. It's being activated for the first time since... well, you probably don't want to hear all the details."

"You're right, I don't. Now this is fascinating stuff, but if you'll excuse me," he said dryly as he tried to step past her. She blocked his path, holding up a hand.

"Just a minute, mister." She paused for a moment, turning to survey the activity on the tarmac. "That was quite the show you put on for the Sub-Commander yesterday..."

He sighed heavily. "Yeah. I guess I flew off the handle a bit... but, I meant every word I said."

"Regardless, I had to do a lot of talking to smooth things over with him."

"Really..." he replied doubtfully. Fuyutsuki hadn't seemed angry with him in the slightest. He'd been played like a fiddle by the crafty old bastard, who ended up getting exactly what he wanted from their confrontation.

"Yes, really. And the way I see it, you owe me one."

"...Oh no."

"Oh yes, and I've come to collect." She crossed her arms and jutted out her chin in defiance. "I was a promised a fighter jet ride, and I'm going to get one. You said come out to camp Fuji..."

"Yeah, I kind of thought you were joking about that. I said sometime, not tomorrow."

"So? What difference does it make?"

He scoffed at her naivety. "You think you can just hop into a jet dressed like that? Did you happen bring a spare pressure suit with you? Because as far as I know we've just got the one."

"No..."

"Well, I'm not going up for a sightseeing tour, lady. I've got to put that jet through its paces, and that means going all the way up. You'll need one of these, that is unless the idea of dying an excruciating death as you suffocate in a vacuum appeals to you."

He smirked at her dejected expression. "I'll tell you what," he offered sarcastically, looking down at his watch. "I've got fifteen minutes worth of preflight checks to do. If you can find some proper flying gear by then, you can come with. Otherwise, you're out of luck."

"Fine!" she exclaimed, still defiant, and strode confidently off in the direction of the hangar. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he crossed the tarmac to his waiting aircraft and put the incident out of his mind as he began his checks, sure he'd done away with the unwanted passenger.

It was much to his surprise, then, when he felt a tap on his shoulder ten minutes later with his head in an open compartment. Turning, he found her standing there with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face, dressed exactly the same as he was, complete with a shiny new helmet held proudly under one arm.

The Major's dumbfounded expression was a reward all it's own.

"W-where the hell did you find all that?" he stammered out when he was finished gawking.

Misato shrugged lightly. "There was a bunch of this stuff in a crate at the back of the hangar. Apparently it all came with the plane when NERV bought it, and one of the mechanics was nice enough to help me put it on. Now," she gave the man a hard poke in the chest, "Are we going or not?"

The pilot just shook his head in disbelief for a moment, before raising his hands in surrender. "Fair enough, you win. Chief!" he called the burly man over to his side. "Get the Captain here strapped into the back seat. I'll be up in a moment." He fixed her with a stern glare. "We are going to have a very serious safety talk before takeoff."

"Yessir." the chief motioned for her to come with him as the Major returned to his checks without another word to her. Excited, but starting to feel a twinge of apprehension, she followed him up the ladder on the aircraft's side. The man crouched on the fuselage beside the rear cockpit, waiting while Misato carefully made her way along the top of the air intake towards him.

When she was seated, the man first took her helmet from her, and then instructed her on the process of fastening her harness to the ejection seat. When all of the necessary buckles were fastened, he grabbed ahold of an adjusting strap on the front of the harness and pulled it tight with all his strength. When all was done, her torso was almost completely immobilized, with only her limbs and head free to move. He then lowered the helmet onto her head and sealed it to the suit, ensuring her oxygen hose was securely connected before disappearing back down the ladder, to be replaced by the pilot a moment later.

Misato fought down a sudden bout of claustrophobia from the sensation of being sealed into the suit, which despite the cool oxygen flowing through it was still uncomfortably hot. Combined with the immobilizing harness, it made for an unpleasant feeling of being trapped, but she'd be damned if she chickened out now.

The man's face was set in stone as he climbed into the front cockpit and stood on the seat facing her, crossing his arms like a stern school teacher lecturing a problem student.

"Comfy?" he asked dryly.

"Not really. Do these straps need to be so tight?" she shifted uncomfortably.

He cracked a smile. "Only if you want to survive an ejection. Speaking of which, do you have any parachute training?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," she replied proudly. "I got my jump wings in the army."

"Good," he nodded slowly. "Your chances of surviving a bailout just went from nil to fifty-fifty. Now, if something goes horribly wrong, I'll shout 'Eject' three times. Then, and only then, are you to touch that black and yellow handle between your legs. Grab it and pull it straight upwards. Don't hesitate, if you're still here after the third 'eject', you're on your own. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Fair warning, punching out of a jet's no picnic. Assuming you survive, permanent spinal injuries are about the best you can hope for. You still game?"

"Absolutely." What were the chances of something going wrong, anyways?

He gave her a nod of grudging respect. "Alright, just so long as you know the risks. You see that switch on the right sight of the seat?"

"Uh... yes, got it."

"That's the arming switch, the seat won't function until it's flipped down. Don't touch it until we're rolling, and don't touch anything else after that without my explicit permission. I don't care who you are on the ground, I'm the captain of this ship, and as long as you're in that seat my word is law."

"Geez, alright, I get it. Let's go already!" The sweltering heat, the tight restraints, and the anticipation of what was sure to be an adrenaline fix like no other were making her antsy. The Major just shook his head with a smile, before turning and plopping down into his own seat.

With nothing else to do while the pilot brought the jet to life, Misato surveyed the cramped cockpit. Directly in front of her was a console that blocked most of her vision forward. In the very centre was a large circular display, with another smaller display below it. The rest of the console was taken up by a bewildering array of knobs, buttons, and switches, which she was admittedly tempted to fiddle with.

The side consoles were similarly cluttered, leaving her nowhere to rest her elbows. There seemed to be no flight controls to speak of, just a small joystick by her right hand that presumably had something to do with the radar.

A moment later, she heard the huge engines behind her roar to life. She could feel the raw power of them through the seat, and it was a truly intoxicating sensation. Soon after, the canopy came down and sealed the pair off from the outside world with a hydraulic hiss.

Soon, they were rolling forward. "Alright, go ahead and arm your seat." The Major's voice crackled in her ear. She did as she was instructed, ensuring her hands were well away from the seat's handle now that it was armed. "Now, there's a pair of hand holds on the canopy frame, I'd suggest you grab onto those so your arms aren't flying around the cockpit. Oh, and the intercom circuit's always on, so just talk into your helmet and I'll hear you. Clear?"

"Uh, yeah, clear." Reaching up, she grabbed hold of the indicated handles, glad she at least had somewhere she could put her hands.

"Good, here we go." The jet pulled onto the runway and straightened out, and without stopping surged forwards with an acceleration that slammed her head back against the seat. The trees on either side of the runway became a green blur, until they disappeared altogether beneath the sides of the cockpit.

Misato barely had time to appreciate that they were airborne, before she suddenly felt the wind being knocked out of her by the sensation of an immense weight on her chest. The jet pulled sharply up into a vertical climb, and Misato felt her torso and legs being compressed by the suit, which only just barely prevented her from blacking out.

"Oh, by the way," the Major's annoyingly cheery voice came over the intercom as Misato gasped for breath, "You need to tense your legs and core to keep the blood from draining from your head when we pull Gs. Breathing's important too. Take sharp breaths, and try saying the first half of the word 'hook' as you inhale, and the second part as you breath out. That'll force your windpipe to stay open."

At his prompting she practised it for a moment, feeling a bit foolish as she sat there gulping air like fish out of water.

"Thanks, that would have come in handy a second ago..." she muttered. Tilting her head to the side, she saw the world rapidly falling away behind them, while the sky gradually darkened from azure to navy blue to black ahead. After a few thrilling minutes of rocketing towards space, the jet rolled over onto its back, and the far-distant earth filled the canopy above them as they levelled off upside down.

There she remained for a strange moment; suspended in the harness straps, looking up at Japan's green coastline and the sparkling pacific that stretched out impossibly far to the curved horizon, dotted by tiny cotton balls of cloud. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced: this sensation of utter stillness so far above her home.

She was looking down on places where millions of people had died violent deaths, places that still bore the scars of those awful events she'd witnessed. From up here, though, those scars were nowhere to be seen. There was only the earth and all its beauty set against the imposing black vastness of space.

"Quite the view, isn't it?" The Major opined from the front cockpit as he rolled the jet right-side up. "Sure as hell beats flying coach."

"It's... stunning." There was no other word for it. "How high up are we?"

"Seventy-six thousand feet above sea level. Astronauts and hippies are the only people higher than us right now."

"Very funny, Major."

"I thought so," he said with a chuckle, before easing the aircraft into a slow bank.

"It never gets old, seeing the earth like this." His voice took on a soft solemn quality, seemingly belonging to an altogether different person than the surly man she knew on the ground. "It's... humbling isn't it?"

"Yeah. It puts things into perspective all right." The earth and its inhabitants all of a sudden seemed very small and fragile from up here. The infinite blue sky was really nothing more than a paper-thin blanket now barely visible against the horizon, a delicate sheet which this machine had punched through in a matter of minutes. That thin sheet of air was all that stood between mankind and the lifeless emptiness above, just like the Evas and their young pilots were all that stood between them and the Angels.

Misato's personal grudge against those monsters, that monkey on her back that had guided her actions all these years, suddenly seemed foolish and petty as she viewed the earth from this new perspective. This delicate blue marble and its frail inhabitants that had endured for so long against such overwhelming odds; that's what she should be fighting for, not for spite or revenge.

Shinji ought to see this, she decided then and there.

"Makes you wonder what it was all for." The Major's sober voice interrupted her musing.

"What do you mean?" she asked idly, her gaze still affixed on the view outside the canopy.

"All the wars. All the killing and dying, all the suffering. You can't see any borders from up here, it just... maybe it's all just imaginary lines that don't matter in the grand scheme of things..."

Was this the same man who stubbornly refused to wear anything but his country's uniform? She supposed she wasn't the only one who felt introspective at seeing their home from this unique angle.

She realized she was now among a privileged few who had seen this incredible sight, and felt immense gratitude for the opportunity.

"Major..." she began softly. "When I was a little girl, all I ever wanted was to go to space. It was one of the few things my dad and I could bond over, y'know?" She had no idea why she was being so candid with someone who was an acquaintance at best, but seeing this magnificent vista, she couldn't help herself. "...We both had a love of the unknown, I guess. This as close as I'll probably ever get, so um, thank you. For helping me see this at least once before I die."

"Oh. Well, uh, you're welcome, I guess..." He seemed caught off guard by her earnestness. It seemed to shake him out of his trance, and his voice came back over the intercom a moment later with a decidedly guarded tone.

"O-okay, that's enough of the sappy stuff, we aren't up here to sight-see. Time to see how she handles a dive. This is where things get interesting. I won't push all the way up to attack speed, but the pullout will still be pretty rough, so remember what I told you about clenching your muscles and breathing."

"Right." She mentally prepared herself for the ride back down. The world was suddenly above her again as the jet again rolled upside down and plunged straight towards the distant earth.

Though she couldn't see straight ahead, she still felt the sensation of the ground rising up to meet them at an immense speed as the earth filled the entirety of the forward half of the canopy.

She held onto the handles on the canopy frame with a death grip as the ride became increasingly bumpy and violent, a stark contrast to the sensation of motionlessness as they cruised along at the edge of space. Terrifying as it was, it was also a thrill like nothing she'd ever experienced, and she let out an involuntary whoop of excitement.

"Quiet!" came the curt word from the pilot as he tried to focus on his difficult task.

The sky behind them was returning to its usual shade of blue as they reentered the lower atmosphere, the plane bucking like a bronco from the increasing air resistance.

"Alright, she seems to be holding together well enough. I'm going to start pulling up." The call came from the cockpit after a few more seconds of increasingly violent jostling. "Get ready."

"Ready." Misato clenched her muscles with all her strength and began to breathe as the Major had instructed her. "Hoo-Kah. Hoo-Kah."

She kept it up as best she could as the manoeuvre began. She was first slammed forward against the harness by a sudden and violent deceleration, and as soon as the earth began to sink beneath the nose her entire body became leaden. Every breath was a struggle, and her vision began to grow dark despite her best efforts to keep the blood in her head.

The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was the squeal of distressed metal from somewhere behind her.

"Hey..."

Whose voice was that? It was a man's voice, barely reaching her through the fuzzy nothingness Misato found herself in.

... Dad?

It couldn't be. He'd been dead for fifteen years.

"Misato..."

Dad! Who else could it be? I did it Dad! I went to space... well, almost, anyways. I saw the earth, and it was so beautiful, and-

"Oh for fuck's sake. Wake up back there!"

What? Dad never swore.

She suddenly felt her head collide with something hard, and in the blink of an eye she was back in the Avenger's cockpit.

"Katsuragi, you with me?" It was the Major's voice that had reached her in her unconscious state, but she could have sworn it sounded like her father...

Before she could answer in the affirmative, the Jet banked to the left, and then violently heeled back over to the right, slamming her helmeted head against the canopy glass.

"Ow! Stop that, I'm awake!" she grumbled.

"Good, you had me worried there for a second."

"Yeah. That was... unpleasant."

"Hey, I warned you that this wouldn't be a Sunday drive. Don't feel bad, we were approaching ten Gs for a few seconds there, and I've known fighter pilots who passed out from less. The good news is that the old bird held together, I'd say she's ready for combat."

"Well, I guess the dive was pretty fun..."

"That's the spirit. You know what they say. You're never more alive than when you're almost dead."

He had a point, she supposed. Despite having just recovered from unconsciousness, she felt oddly invigorated, her senses unusually sharp. She'd often heard stories of soldiers who never stopped fighting even when their wars were over, who traveled the world seeking new battles like addicts looking for a fix. She supposed it was this feeling of euphoria that they were chasing.

Giving her head a shake, Misato peered out over the rim of the cockpit, seeing that they were cruising through a mountain valley, about level with the tops of the peaks rising on either side.

"Uh, where are we, Major?"

"You tell me. You're supposed to be navigating back there, you know..."

"Ha ha."

"Well," he said slowly, "by my reckoning, we're about eighty kilometres west of Tokyo-3, give or take. Heading north, about two thousand feet ASL, four hundred knots."

"Ah. These are the Akaishi mountains then." Misato fondly recalled school trips to the nearby national park.

"Huh. They're pretty, but they sure don't compare to the Rockies. Anyways, our job is done, so what do you say we have a little fun on our way back?"

"You read my mind, Major," she said with a widening grin.

"Heh. You've got guts Katsuragi, I'll give you that. Hold on."

With that, Misato felt the engines roar to full power behind her, while the jet swooped down towards the forest and dipped into one the smaller gorges branching off the main valley. They were seemingly just metres above a narrow river winding its way to the east, trees flashing by on either side while the mountains towered far above them.

This was more like it, she thought. Screaming through the most beautiful scenery her country had to offer, at the speed of sound, with one of the world's greatest pilots at the controls was an experience most people could only dream of. Ahead of them, a steep ridge loomed at the end of the gorge, and the pilot waited until the last second to pull up, skimming its surface all the way to the top and rolling inverted as they zoomed over the crest. The tops of the trees skimmed by seemingly inches from the canopy over Misato's head, eliciting a gasp from the awe-struck woman.

They remained inverted for a moment as they soared up over the mountaintops, before the aircraft gracefully arced back towards the earth, rolling right-side up an instant before they dipped into another winding valley, following its course towards Mount Fuji's distant peak.

Moments later, they emerged out over the plains that stretched before the sacred volcano, the jet settling into an easy cruise level with its summit after the heart-pounding ride through the forested valleys. As Misato took in the scenery, the console in front of her suddenly came to life, much to her alarm.

"Relax," the Major said before she could swear she hadn't touched anything, "I just switched on the radar to check it. Those two displays in front of you should be active now."

"Uh, yeah, they are. What do they do?"

"Well, to put it briefly, the smaller one is the radar scope, which shows you exactly what the radar is seeing, while the bigger one is the tactical information display. It takes the raw data from the radar and all the other sensors and turns it into a top-down view of what's in front of us. All I have up front is a radar scope, so you have a much better idea of what's out there than I do."

The small radar scope was incomprehensible to Misato, it seemed to show a random assortment of black dots of varying size against a fuzzy green background, but she could make some sort of sense of the large display. It showed two green lines against a black background, which formed a V with the narrow end at the bottom of the screen, presumably indicating their position. Within that cone were a number of moving dots enclosed within semi-circles with lines extending from them. She reasoned that these were the positions of various radar contacts relative to them, the line showing their courses.

"What you're seeing is everything in the air for about a hundred and fifty miles in front of us," the Major confirmed as she described what was on her display. "All civilian air traffic, sounds like. You can tell by the little symbol above the dot. A semi circle means the contact has a civilian transponder code or has been designated as a friendly. A flat line is unknown, and X is hostile. If we had a full load of missiles, we could blow pretty much everything on that screen out of the sky from over the horizon."

"Neat." She recalled discussions about the war in North America from a military history class in college. The professor had cited the American failure to attain complete air superiority as an important factor in bogging down a lighting invasion into a long, bloody war of attrition.

Facing these aircraft along with their skilled and determined pilots; it was no wonder the ill-fated invaders were unable to secure Canada's airspace despite their huge numerical advantage.

"Alright we're coming up on camp Fuji. Brace yourself, it's a short runway so we have to land hard if we want to stop in time."

"Right." Misato was sorry this flight had to end, but she realized as she checked the clock on the instrument panel that she was going to miss unit-00's activation if they stayed up much longer. With nothing better to do, she watched the screens in front of her as they banked towards the airstrip.

As they came around to the south, the radar was now pointed out over the sea. A new set of contacts showed on her display, one of which caught her eye. All the others had the semi-circle indicating they were civilian, but one dot had a horizontal line above it. Unknown.

It was then that the small radar scope caught her eye. Before, there had been a smattering of black dots against the green background, which varied in size slightly but were all more or less similar looking. Now, however, there was one giant, fuzzy blob that blocked out much of the scope, dwarfing the other contacts dotted around it.

Despite having no training whatsoever on this system, she had an uneasy feeling that she knew exactly what she was looking at.

"Uh, Major..." she said apprehensively.

"Not now." came the dismissive reply.

"Major..."

He simply ignored her this time, busily chattering away with someone on the radio.

"Major!" she shouted, desperate to get his attention.

"What?!"

"Look at the radar!"

"Jesus Katsuragi, what could be out there now that wasn't there a second a-" his voice caught in his throat as he looked down at his display.

"...Holy shit."

Of all the nonsensical bullshit I've seen since I came here... well it's in the top three at least, Bishop mused to himself at the sight of whatever it was he was shadowing over the pacific.

It looked like a giant flying piece of modern architecture; two glass pyramids joined at the bottom.

"It's an Angel. It has to be." Katsuragi's assertive voice crackled in his helmet.

He was tempted to argue, but what else could it be? "God help me, I think you're right. We need to get back right away."

"What are you talking about? Let's go in for a closer look!"

Yeah, right. Not falling for that again. It was time he put his foot down as pilot-in-command. "Look, Captain, we are completely unarmed, and we have no goddamn idea what that thing is capable of. We're going to report this to headquarters, where you're supposed to be, by the way, and then I'm going to land so I can get this thing armed while you get back to HQ and do your job."

"I'm doing my job right now. We have an opportunity to gather intelligence that might help out Shinji if we have to deploy the Eva. We can at least follow it for a little while, we're in radio contact with headquarters right?"

"...We can be."

"There, see? I can direct the whole battle from up here with a bird's eye view."

Bishop shook his head with a heavy sigh. He was getting real tired of people using that kid to guilt him into doing foolhardy things.

"Fine, we'll shadow it for a little while, but we'll be keeping to a safe distance. If I sense any whiff of danger from that thing, we're returning to base whether you like it or not."

"Deal."

With that, he set about tuning the radio to the correct frequency, before clearing his throat and clicking the mic switch on the throttle with his thumb.

"NERV HQ, this is arrow zero-one, do you read me?" He'd decided his unit, once it was formed, would carry a radio callsign that both tied them to their weapons and paid homage the Avenger's progenitor.

There was no immediate response, so he repeated the message, before a young man's voice finally answered him.

"Arrow zero-one, this is Lieutenant Hyuga at HQ, go ahead."

"Lieutenant, this is Major Bishop. I'm shadowing something I assume to be an angel over the ocean about fifty miles south of Tokyo three. It's a massive airborne object, looks to be floating about at about five hundred feet, moving north at around a hundred fifty knots. Are you guys in contact?"

"Roger, we've been tracking it for a few minutes now, but we don't have visual. Hold on, I'll have Captain Katsuragi called to the bridge."

"Don't bother, she's up here with me."

"...What?"

He took his finger off the mic and switched back to the intercom. "Sounds like you've got some explaining to do, Katsuragi. There's a little pedal down by your left foot, that's your mic switch. Radio's all yours."

He smirked as he heard a groan over the intercom, followed by a click as Katsuragi found her comm switch.

"Hyuga, this is Misato."

"Ma'am? Pardon my asking, but what are doing out there?"

"Geez, It's my day off and I wanted to have some fun, sue me."

"Uh, I'd like it noted on the record that she pulled rank and made me do it." Bishop interjected with a chuckle. He could feel Katsuragi staring daggers into the back of his head.

"Anyways," She pressed on, "Give me a report Hyuga, what's going on back there? Where's the JSSDF?"

"Well, uh, we just went to condition one alert. The JSSDF immediately passed control off to us, looks like they aren't even going to bother trying to stop this one."

"Heh, that's probably for the best. Get Shinji into unit-one and have it ready to sortie."

"On it, he's already at the cages."

"Good. Prepare everything we've got for surface-to-air intercept."

"Roger."

As Katsuragi continued to direct the preparations for battle, Bishop tuned out their chatter and focused on keeping his distance from the giant flying geometric shape that apparently posed a grave threat to mankind. He was a few thousand feet above it, orbiting with a few kilometres between them. It was admittedly tempting to swoop down for a closer look, it certainly looked harmless enough.

Were he alone up here, he would probably risk it, maybe even take a swipe at it with the guns if he had some ammo, but his hands were tied by the fact that he was also responsible for Katsuragi's life. He could care less about his own life, but if he got Katsuragi killed, it would leave NERV effectively leaderless; not to mention depriving the kid of the closest thing he seemed to have to a mother.

They continued orbiting as it made landfall, watching the thing cruise easily over the coastal mountains. Every battery in the area opened up on it at once, but not a single projectile made contact, all detonating at least a hundred yards from the thing's glassy surface.

That can't be good... Bishop was no expert on the subject, but this thing's protective field seemed to be a bit stronger than the last one's was. The great bloody modern art sculpture just serenely floated ever onward, utterly ignoring the powerful munitions being sent against it.

Skimming low over lake Ashi, it slowed and eventually came to halt as it reached Tokyo-3's downtown core. There it floated for a moment, and Katsuragi gave the order for the city's defences to cease firing so they could see what it was it was up to. At her prompting, Bishop Guided the Avenger down until it was level with the floating angel, watching in rapt revulsion as what appeared to be some sort of pink organic drill extended from the thing's bottom point and began boring into the pavement below.

"Clever bastard, it's going to try and drill straight down to headquarters. That's our target, then. Hyuga, can you put me through to Shinji?" Katsuragi clearly had some sort of plan in the works. He hoped the kid would at least give a better account of himself this time.

"Shinji, can you hear me?" Katsuragi was all business as she was patched through to the waiting Eva pilot.

"Y-yes ma'am." Bishop recognized the boy's stammering voice.

"Good. Listen carefully, as soon as you're deployed, open fire on the Angel's... drill, I guess you'd call it. Ignore the main body for now. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, standby to launch."

Bishop could hear the note apprehension in Shinji's voice, but he seemed to be trying to put on a brave face. The pilot hoped the kid had taken his words about courage to heart, empty as they may have sounded to himself. Maybe that old geezer had a point, maybe he could teach the boy a thing or two...

Of course, philosophy lessons were all well and good, but there was plenty of practical wisdom on the art of killing Bishop could pass on to the hapless little soldier as well. Not that it would do the kid a lick of good now. Hopefully, someone had at least given him some more hand-to-hand combat training since the last battle.

Have a little faith in the boy, he reminded himself. He's tougher than he looks.

"Uh, ma'am, we're getting some unusual readings from the target." the Lieutenant's voice interjected.

"What do you mean?" Katsuragi's voice took on a note of apprehension for the first time since the start of the engagement.

Bishop realized then that he'd strayed too close for comfort the floating anomaly while distracted by the radio chatter. They were within a kilometre now, circling level with the thing's equator just above the ridge line to the west of Tokyo-3.

"There seems a huge spike of energy on the west facing side. It's continually focusing and building in intensity. The MAGI are analyzing it now, stand by..."

West. The side facing him. That little alarm bell in his head, that sixth sense that had kept him alive for this long against all the odds, suddenly began ringing.

"Energy readings are peaking!" Hyuga's excited voice spurred him into action. His gut told him that danger was imminent, and it'd never before steered him wrong in a situation like this. Time to go.

Without warning, he heeled the Avenger over the left and pulled the stick back, sliding the jet down behind the cover of the ridge and skimming away just above the tree tops on its surface with the afterburners lit.

In the blink of eye, before he could even register his passenger's startled cry and the simultaneous shouted warning from the Lieutenant, the sky exploded.

The top of the ridge behind them, where the jet was flying an instant before, was gone. The entire mountain top was blown clear away in a fiery explosion of molten rock and flaming trees.

A burnt-up tree trunk flew past the canopy, and in that moment Bishop was again a young pilot dodging surface-to-air missiles as he tried to make his way back to friendly lines. The instincts he'd honed so well in the crucible of war kept the aircraft moving like a living thing, jinking and weaving as it sped away from the pursuing cloud of debris. The easiest escape would be to pull up and get above it, but he suspected putting himself back in the angel's line of sight would be a poor idea, so he stayed low and put his faith in those big turbofans to get him out of one more scrape.

Katsuragi, to her credit, was not panicking. She was shouting a singular message into the radio over and over, desperately hoping that what she no doubt believed would be her final order was heard and obeyed before it was too late.

"Abort launch! Abort the goddamn launch!" She shouted until she was hoarse.

"I say again, do not launch unit one!"