October 1st, 2050. Los Angeles Air Force Base, El Segundo, California, U.S
The sound of crashing and banging echoes throughout the open space of the TSF Hangar. The day's hard work is not over yet for the men and women tasked with servicing the war machines fresh in from battle. For the engineers, their battle has just begun and will rage on into the night as they endeavour to get everything into fit and fighting shape again.
"I'm glad to see you girls got back okay," Chief Mechanic Shimazu Keisuke turns from inspecting his clipboard to greet us. His work overalls are still stained with oil and lubricant after the many hours of maintenance work he's already done. "Though you really need to work on limiting the amount of overspill from your kills. We had to disassemble the arms and clean out the actuators. Don't give me that look," he grumbles before either of us can say a word, "We've gone over this a million times. I still can't wrap my head around how you're able to get this shit inside of internal components."
"I-i'm terribly sorry Keisuke-Sōchō," Nanami pipes apologetically, clutching her jacket. "We get a bit carried away, I know. But we're doing exactly what these machines were built for! We're fighting for the future here!"
Nanami on the battlefield and Nanami off it are almost two different people. An American pilot we saved once in Seattle who came to thank us afterwards compared her to the old story of Jeckel and Hyde. It's not that much of an exaggeration.
Keisuke shakes his head to hide the half-smile on his worn face. "I don't want to see either of you suffer for an accident we could have prevented. There's been Eishi in previous battles for Seattle killed because of gun jams and other maintenance mishaps. Resources are being stretched thinner and thinner. I'll be caught dead before the same happens to you. But you really need to work with me on this."
"With all respect Keisuke, we cannot compromise our combat capabilities for any sake, though I understand where you're coming from." I told him. "TSFs are not meant to be handled quite so roughly as we do. But then, these are not TSFs we're taking out to battle."
An SSF is even more maintenance-intensive than a regular TSF, and given the number of unique components and the complex machinery of the Relic interface, requires its own specialised mechanics. Our own team has come with us south from Seattle, and as long as we're stationed here they'll be staying with us, a small pocket of Japanese among the throng of Americans.
"Every time you sortie, I worry about you both." Keisuke's short hair is grey with white and silver threads though it. Hard to think he's still in his 30s, he looks like a man twice his age. He's survived the fall of Kyoto and the Battle of Yokohama back in '43, and now here he is, thousands of miles from what was once home to make sure we can still fight.
"It's your work that keeps us flying," I reassure him. "And you've never let us down. The fact we're speaking to you right now is testament to that."
His brown eyes bore into mine, before he sighs and gives a nod. "Just be a little bit more mindful if you can. Calculated risks are one thing, but you should never blindly trust fate, it has a habit of biting you in the ass at the worst possible time."
He turns away to look out over the TSF hanger. Los Angeles Air Force Base is mostly a command and control centre, but it has spaces reserved for TSFs dedicated to local base defence. The American Adaptors have been sequestered here since directly after Operation Babylon, so it was only natural to station us here as well. This particular hanger might have been reserved for our exclusive use while we're down here, but everything from the toilets to the doors and the writing on the walls remind me that at the end of the day this is an American facility that we're lucky enough to be able to borrow for a time.
How long we're meant to stay here is a question I'll need to raise with the Major once we are debriefed.
With our after-action reports done, we have some time to spare. It's a custom that Kazanari-senpai drilled into me that we should inspect our Symphogear Surface Fighters after every battle to make sure they're up to scratch. She had self-taught skills as a mechanic that emerged from her love of motorcycles, skills she brought to operating her fighting machine. 'A TSF, or an SSF for that matter, is like a sword and should be treated with all the same care and affection.' She told me. 'Only then will it repay you in kind when the battle is on.'
She planted that lesson into the fertile ground of my mind, where like so much she showed me it has grown and blossomed. I stand here as the product of her labours.
"So what do you think? Are the machines up to spec?" Keisuke asks us.
Shit! Don't get lost in your thoughts Kaede, not at a time like this. "If you will give me a moment, I'll take a look for myself and tell you," I stride over to my machine trying to keep my blush to myself.
I run my fingers across the cool super-carbon surface of the machine. SSF Unit 07, my own personal machine. No other pilot on earth can use it, no other pilot could harness its power the way I can. It was built for me and me alone, like how Unit 08 was built for Nanami and 01 was Kazanari-senpai's machine. Their lines are not the sharp points of the current generation of stealth-oriented TSFs, smooth flowing curves and an aesthetic beauty reminiscent of the fish of Japan's lost waters. The heavy shoulders arc like waves and the head with its shark-like fin oozes a sense of lethality. I've flown a few different TSFs in my short lifetime, but nothing like this. Not even the Imperial Royal Guard can boast a machine quite like this.
It only takes a few minutes of cursory examination to tell me all is well. More than anything I can feel when something is off with my SSF, and there is no prickly feeling or sense of unease as I clamber across the shoulder blocks, run my hands along the winged forearms and inspect the inside of the cockpit. I suspect I've synchronised with it enough that I have an instinctive understanding as though it were my body. And for brief periods, it really is.
"Everything's good here," I call as I climb down.
Nanami and Keisuke have already moved on to her SSF, and I can hear the sound of Nanami doing her own inspection. Nanami hails from a long line of mechanics, and she's far more capable of this side of the job than I am. I know in my heart she would have got on well with Kazanari-senpai had fate not kept them apart until it was too late.
Yet Nanami also takes greater risks with her inspections, holding her machine up to higher standards...
There's a crashing sound and my heart leaps into my mouth. Without a second's hesitation I rush over to find Keisuke crouching over Nanami, who lies beneath the left shoulder block of her SSF.
"No damage," Keisuke tells me as I join them, "but she's going to have a nice bruise on her right knee tomorrow."
Nanami lies there holding her knee, lips pursed to hold in her pain. She smiles up at me. "Don't worry about me senpai, it was just a slip and a miss. It's happened before"
I fixed her with one of Kazanari-senpai's customary scolding glares that I was on the receiving end of more than a few times. "The last thing we want is for you to have an accident that might render you combat-incapable. This isn't about you, it's about how your actions might affect the rest of us."
"S-sorry!" Nanami babbles up. "That won't happen again!"
"Be sure that it doesn't." I tell her, before turning to Keisuke. "I think that's all, both machines are certified sortie-ready?"
"Aye," Keisuke touches a few buttons on his E-Pad. "You'll have your meeting with the Major next?"
I give a short nod. "Once again we are in your debt Keisuke-Sōchō. Thank you and we'll catch you sometime." After a quick salute, I reach down and help Nanami to her feet. She winces slightly as she puts weight on her right leg.
"Come on Nanami, the Major is expecting us. And we're not keeping her for a moment."
Major Jinguuji is borrowing an officer's quarters in the main administrative building of Los Angeles Air Force Base. It's got good views from the windows behind her across the base and the urban sprawl in the distance beyond. It's a welcome change from the cramped confines of her office on board the Heavy Cruiser Mikuma back in Seattle.
She's busy typing away at a computer, eyes intensely focused on the task ahead of her. The briefest motion of her head is enough to communicate that Nanami and I are to drop our salutes and wait for her to finish.
Relentless is one of the best words to describe the Major. She is always at work, always on the go, a one-woman army ensuring that everything is running as smoothly and effectively as possible for the good of all. Top dog of the IJMDF forces in North America, she is who every aspiring officer seeks to emulate.
Including me.
Even before I became an Adaptor I knew of Jinguuji Marimo. She was a hardened Eishi who had fought in China, Korea, and at the bloody Siege of Singapore. An instructor in the elite Fuji Tactical Fighter Training Group in her twenties. She'd been involved in Alternative IV before its cancellation in some undisclosed capacity, and at least briefly worked with the Noble Six. And somehow she had gained the epithet of the 'Mad Dog'. Her reputation spread far and wide throughout the Imperial armed forces. Following the chaos of the Babylon Disaster and the Great Ocean Collapse she has become the de-facto commander-in-chief of the Seattle defenders and through that the direct commanding officer of the Empire of Japan's Symphogear Flight deployed to protect the vulnerable Japanese community there.
Nanami and I have now served under her for over a year, through five full-scale BETA assaults and six confrontations on the Canadian border. In all that time she has never led us wrong. Major Jinguuji's dedication to those under her command is as real and genuine as the concern a good teacher feels for her pupils. And under that tutelage my partner and I have blossomed into the weapon the Empire so desperately needs in times like this.
The Major stopped typing, gave a short sigh, and addressed us. "...and done. Sorry to keep you waiting, this work waits for nobody." The Major waves us both over and we sit down before her.
"First of all I'd like to congratulate the both of you on a job well done. I just got a message from American General Gray. The United States armed forces here were very impressed with your performance. You gave them a good demonstration of how we have been employing our Adaptors in the defence of Seattle."
"Yes ma'am! Thank you very much!" We chorus.
"The Empire would not be in as strong a condition as it is were you both not acting as our main force. Thanks to the breathing room your combined efforts have given us, we've been able to rebuild some of our production capacity, reorganise ourselves, begin civic policies like education, and make some headway on the numerous other concerns that beset us in these dark times."
The Major never minces her words with those she trusts. Her honesty is one rare in any profession, let alone the military.
"We got extremely lucky. Not one, but two major TSF manufacturers survived the aftermath of G-Day. Boening in Seattle, and Northrock-Grunnan right here in Los Angeles. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear someone or something was looking out for us when all the low-oxygen zones started popping up and consuming what hadn't already been drowned by the Great Ocean Collapse or crushed by the gravity anomalies."
It still sometimes feels like we're living in a bad dream. Japan is gone. Sunk beneath the waves that devoured all of Eurasia in the wake of the massed G-Bombing. Like the ancient legends of Atlantis, man's hubris brought about the drowning of our ancestral homeland. We are as much a victim of G-day as the BETA we sought to destroy.
I didn't see Japan sink, as I was dropped with Kazanari-senpai onto Hive 20, the Chaerwon Hive to clean up after the G-Bombs had fallen. And I have no memories of that day beyond the void made by the G-Bomb detonations swallowing me whole.
Nanami saw it though. Evacuated on one of the Empire's Yamato-class Battleships, she saw the chaos and carnage and the walls of water that ground our islands to dirt. She has told me hesitantly of the memories she holds and wishes she didn't, of the waters of the ocean full of debris and drowned bodies...
The Major stands up, the scraping of her chair instantly snapping me back to attention. "The two of you are the two most valuable people in the entire IJMDF. Each worth an entire wing of regular TSFs. But the events of the last Border War have finally shown the Empire's weakness to the world. The Canadian Adaptors cut a swathe through our ranks and fought you both to a standstill. It's clear that we need a new approach if we are to combat the enemy Adaptors."
We might be exceptional weapons against the BETA, but just as often we now find ourselves fighting other humans. That was a style of warfare I had never been prepared for, and one that goes against everything that inspired me to enlist in the first place. I wanted to do my part in saving humanity, not reducing our numbers yet further.
And nothing is worse than when Adaptor fights Adaptor. Professor Ryoko's carefully calculated leak set an arms race in motion, one only interrupted by G-Day. Yet with what must have been fate's supreme sense of irony, all four of the nations that remain as technical entities have Adaptors amongst their number. The United States, the Empire of Japan, the revolutionary Sixth French Republic and Canada. And the France-Canada Coalition came together to take their revenge upon the United States for G-Day and the Babylon Disaster and all the other myriad sins of the 'perfidious Americans'.
So we fight. All our power, all our potential, the ideals Kazanari-senpai taught me, all are forced to be turned against those who are just like us. We should be fighting side by side against the BETA, the promise that the Noble Six had lived and fought, and in the end died for. But that's not the world we live in. The world has been ravaged by G-Day, and the scraps that are left must fight if they are to survive.
The Major looks over us as she continues, "Our manpower is beyond critical. We cannot afford to suffer even a single casualty. And the actions of the French Adaptors on the East Coast and the Canadian Adaptors here have proven that Adaptors are just as good at destroying TSFs as they are at killing BETA. Our casualties in the last Border War were such that we're going to need a major re-ordering of our forces in Seattle, one that I'll be overseeing once I get back."
Ouch. I know what she's trying to tell me, but it hurts that this is the result of our weaknesses. We managed to stop their incursion and turn them back, but not before dozens of irreplaceable Eishi had been killed.
Facing an Adaptor is facing your own death, and that is the truth for all sides in this conflict.
"So, what would you say the best course of action is for the Empire following the Seventh Border War?" The Major's question is expected. She has always encouraged reflexive thinking among her subordinates, testing our abilities as officers to judge and evaluate any situation.
I stand up. "Sir! To pool our available resources with regards to Symphogear Adaptors with the Americans, given the power disparity that would entail and the chance to level the playing field with our enemies in Canada and France."
Major Jinguuji nods, a small smile on her face. "The Empire is at a severe imbalance when compared to the Americans who have let us in. That was made clear today with the forces deployed here in Los Angeles. The Empire's only major assets we can offer to the alliance, beyond our fighting strength and certain proprietary technologies, are you two. Furthermore you are an asset that is now well-seasoned in combat, certainly when compared to the Americans own Adaptors. They know that the time is coming when they can no longer rely on us to fight their battles alone. And my argument to them is that time is now."
Nanami raises her hand. "Permission to speak sir?"
"Permission granted."
Nanami pulls herself to her feet beside me. "So this is no longer just a military concern? This has become political?" For her certain level of naivete, Nanami isn't stupid. She's learned much from me, the Major, Captain Tomosato and others. One hell of an education.
The Major nods again. "Despite our losses, we're not expecting another BETA assault either here or in Seattle for at least a week or two, so we have time to make the necessary adjustments. And our forces in Seattle are strong enough thanks to your efforts that we can do without the two of you, for a few weeks at least.
"It's clear that you need more training in fighting your fellow Adaptors and developing counter-Adaptor strategies. That is something we can only do if we choose to start coordinating our efforts with the Americans.
The Major turns again to peer through the windows. "This has now gone all the way to the top. Both the Imperial and American High Commands have decided that now is the time. We up in Seattle have the breathing room, the American focus here gives them the numbers. And for once it seems the BETA is cooperating with us. This might be the only chance to get both the Empire's Adaptors and the American Adaptors working together before either the BETA returns in force or the France-Canada Coalition makes another attempt against us."
So our fate is decided. Our assignment is to stay here in Los Angeles for the foreseeable future and try to forge bonds with these other Adaptors so we can fight side by side against the foes that beset us both.
Look on the bright side, maybe I'll get a chance to see the sights here. I always told father I wanted to see Mulholland Drive at least once in my life.
"S-sir! I accept the task given!" Nanami tells her with a hesitant smile. She seems hopeful. Hope I'll need to buttress even though I have far less confidence in our task.
"As do I. For the sake of the mission, we will ensure success in our dealings with the American Adaptors."
The Major gives a small giggle. A rare sign of warmth from a woman who's had to suppress that side of her. "I don't even need to ask you. I wish all my subordinates were like the two of you. They could certainly share your enthusiasm."
"I think you mean resignation, Major." I venture.
"Do you have concerns, Otohime-san?"
"We've only just met the Americans, and one of them did not seem to be well-disposed towards us. Or each other for that matter."
"I saw how you stepped into the disagreement between Park and Bernstein." The Major remarks. "I think you've already set yourself up for this task."
I flinch with shock. "How do you know?" The Major's ability to seemingly read my mind keeps on concerning me. Oh wait, she was monitoring us throughout the battle. Of course she knows. Duh.
The Major fixes me with that unflinching stare. "So what do you make of the American Adaptors? Of their combat doctrine and methods of engagement?"
When it comes to the matter of Adaptors, the Major has always involved us closely, trusting in our practical experiences to help shape her decisions. "I'm sure Yazawa can add to this, but my evaluation is that they bear very powerful Relics, and might also be deploying a new form of Linker as their power output is quite considerable. But my concern is that their focus on ranged combat will prove to be a weakness should they ever have to face either the Canadian or French Adaptors. We know the Canadian Adaptors bear Relics optimised for close combat, same as us. And from what few reports have filtered over from the East Coast, so do the French. The Americans alone have specced their Adaptors for ranged combat. That's good for killing BETA, but should an enemy Adaptor manage to close in with them they'll be caught out in a very disadvantageous position."
"Otohime-senpai is correct," Nanami chimes in, "They're strong, but were they to go up against enemy Adaptors tomorrow they'd be in for a nasty surprise. And they don't seem to coordinate well either." Understatement of the year there Nanami.
Major Jinguuji reaches down and picks up a couple of folders from her desk. "The American brass will doubtless be telling them the same thing, although possibly more diplomatically. These are copies of their personal records, provided to us by the American Government. We have likewise provided copies of your records to them, which I imagine they'll be going over equally as thoroughly."
The Major hands a folder to each of us, and I open my one. The unsmiling yet beautiful face of Alicia Bernstein stares back at me.
She's 22 years old. My age. The daughter of a state Senator from New York State on the East Coast. That territory is now under French occupation, or at least the parts not under low-oxygen conditions. Before she was detected as an Adaptor candidate, Alicia was studying law at Columbia University and was a member of several societies there. No formal military training or experience before her induction into the American Adaptor corps, though her scores in surface pilot training afterwards were generally above average, so she's no slouch as a pilot.
Overall, an old-school American blue-blood. A fortunate one with star spangled eyes who absent the power to control the Relics would never be seen dead on a battlefield.
I pass the folder over to Nanami, and she in turn passes hers over to me. Simone Park has a rather feral smile in her picture, bright white teeth flashing from her dark face.
She's younger than me but older than Nanami at 20 years. A local, born in Long Beach, a predominantly African-American suburb to the north of the Airforce base. Several members of her family have been caught up in local violence around drug trafficking and gang wars, and the habit seems to have rubbed off with a few minor incidents of her own recorded. Even with the shadow of the law over her, Simone was pursuing a career in music before her newfound skills as an Adaptor brought her to the attention of the American authorities. Her distrust of authority led to a history of minor insubordination that dragged down genuine talent in piloting a TSF.
We have quite the pair of Adaptors. One born at the top of the stack with a silver spoon in her mouth, the other a child of what Americans call 'the streets'. No wonder the two don't get along. It's hard enough to fight on your own, but to trust your back to someone you can't see eye to eye with on any level?
I have to wonder in turn what the American Adaptors must think of us after they've read our respective records. I am the daughter of a veteran Eishi from Fukushima, enlisted into the Imperial Army at the tender age of seventeen and was already a veteran of combat on Sadogashima before I was pulled out to become an Adaptor.
Nanami by contrast hails from a family of automotive mechanics from Hokkaido, and she was still in school when her tests came through. Her training was not completed until after Operation Babylon. Young, wet behind the ears but making up for it with enthusiasm and a certain bloodthirsty attitude.
We hand back the documents to the Major, and she sets them aside before reaching for several fresh pieces of paper. "All the official notifications are complete, and all I'll need is your signatures before I can put them through. That will confirm your reassignment to Project Spectre."
"Spectre? Who came up with that name?" I ask.
"The Americans of course." The Major explains. "They like their evocative names. I must add that you two will be effectively on your own for the next few weeks."
"So we will be operating under American command for the duration of our stay here?"
The Major gives an apologetic smile. "I need to get back to Seattle so we can begin the reorganisation of our forces, so you two are going to be here alone but for Captain Tomosato and your support staff. This is very much a test of your abilities to operate independently from the Empire's direct oversight, and a lot of trust is being put into the both of you. This is as much a diplomatic exercise as a military one, so please don't antagonise the Americans. We're here because we need to work together if we are to survive in the hell we made for ourselves."
"Isn't this the hell the Americans made for us? They're the ones who were the main drivers of Alternative V."
Major Jinguuji gives me a concerned look. "I understand exactly how you feel Otohime, but you're going to need to tread carefully while you're here. I'm not saying you're incorrect, but that's also the excuse the French gave when they jumped on the Americans in the months after Babylon. And you should know that Americans are very sensitive towards these kinds of things. Do you understand?"
Nanami and I nod in unison. We now know exactly what we are in for. Together we sign the papers and slide them back over to the Major.
"I'll get these sent in." She tells us as she puts them away. "The formal introductions will be held here in the base at 11:00 hours tomorrow with most of the top brass of the US army in California present, so I suggest you prepare yourselves for a lot of handshakes and other diplomatic bull. You've got to familiarise yourselves with a lot of information, so I'll leave you with that. You are dismissed."
"Sir! Thank you very much sir!" We echo as we raise to our feet and turn to leave. Behind us the Major is already getting back to work. I aspire to that same relentless pace that keeps her going against all odds, a beacon of raw determination that refuses to die.
This is not going to be a fun assignment, fixing problems within our American counterparts so they can better kill fellow Adaptors. Like it or not, this might be the most important duty we have yet performed. For the sake of Major Jinguuji, the IJMDF, the Empire of Japan, and humanity as a whole, we need to succeed here.