Snips and Snaps: NERVous Breakdown. XCOM/AaT(NGE)

(A/N: The first time I watched Neon Genesis Evolution, I flipped my shit. A lot. I have a fairly high bullshit tolerance I like to think, but my tolerance only goes so far. So when I found Advice and Trust, it redeemed the series to me in a big way. Strypgia's work thus gets a nod in the crossover title because it pulled the pants off of the anime's head, and I pull directly from that alter-cannon when it kicks in.)

"So long as the stars are in the sky, trust in our watch." A young man said, watching his older commander carefully. "Translated into the Latin, 'Dum sidera caeli confidunt in vigilia' so that the men can still holler their battle cries."

The Commander smiled, and shook his head. "I hope battle cries are a non-issue, Badford. They deserve a rest and a pension now. So do we, come to think of it. One alien invasion is enough for a lifetime, thank you."

Laughing, Bradford just rolled his shoulders and patted his old station in the command center fondly. "They'll never shut us down all the way. They might re-socialize the ground pounders, get Shen to up and retire, return us back to our home bases, but God forbid they try and extinguish the charter."

"You're not talking about the incident in Brussels?" The Commander asked, rolling his eyes to high heaven. "I really, really hope you're not talking about the incident in Brussels. I only want to shoot out a Muton's eye with a plasma pistol once in my life, thank you very much."

Bradford laughed now. "No, I was thinking of prying Vahlen out of her lab."

Both men chuckled, and the Commander pulled open his chair's secret alcohol slot and two tumblers. Pouring the near-black whiskey, he handed one glass to Bradford. "Cheers, my friend. To the best things in life- a peaceful day, an interesting night, and a fine house off Subic Bay!"

Three Years Later

Looking at the TV screen, Bradford winced audibly. The area displayed was ruined, trashed beyond all belief. One end of the battlefield had held a monsterus, alien machine capable of wrecking untold destruction at the drop of a hat.

On the other end was an Angel.

"Rewind the tape." Bradford asked the Operative slowly. "I'm thinking someone thought we went to sleep."

The Operative laughed, and brought his right hand to the center of his sweater, right over the Seal. There was only one Seal, as far as he was concerned, and one Motto.

"Vigilo Confiedo, Sir."

Subic Bay, Sunset.

Inside the rather well-appointed cabana, a man snored in his chair, safe in knowing that he had done his duty. In the kitchen, his housekeeper worked on putting together a simple dinner, while her boss took the traditional siesta before going back to the closest thing to work he ever did anymore- organizing the local musical program down in the ex-American high school. It relaxed him, and helped keep the old meddler busy in his retirement.

As the housekeeper finished up on the rich gumbo the man liked, a phone went off. Going over to pick it up, she noticed something. This wasn't the house's old-fashioned rotary phone that the man loved to sit next to and talk with his old friends from the war on, discussing sports and science and the misadventures of their former brood. No, this phone was different. Black, with a gold-checkered inlay, the old athsteitcs of the bakelite corded phone combined with new technology, and a seal on the back. Picking it up, she answered cheerfully.

"Hola, Casa del musica principal de escuela de George Dewey. Quien es?"

On the other end of the phone, a great mumbling and juttering occurred, with several cries of "Ok, who speaks Spanish?" "Ow, my nose!" and "Why isn't Bradford doing this himself?!" before a calm-ish voice got on the line.

"Hola. Me llamo est… Lieutenant Sabre… yo nessicta habla con Commander."

The housekeeper screwed up her face and frowned. That man sounded distinctly like an American. The man who owned the house normally used Spanish- he was certainly more fluent in it than she in English- but she did know a bit.

"Yes, Lieutenant Savre, we have no…no commander here. Only music teacher."

Again, there was a muffled roaring and confusion by the other end of the line. Finally, a different young man answered the line. He, at least, spoke Spanish well enough to communicate. Aparently, they needed to speak to the owner of the house as soon as possible. Sighing dramatically, the housekeeper went to get the owner, only to realize he was already there. As he took the phone, the housekeeper watched him listen carefully, the years slowly falling of his face. He might have come here to rest and relax, but he also grew older and calmed down.

When the phone call was done, the Commander rolled his shoulders and sighed.

"Consuela," he said in his soft, round Spanish, "Pack my bags please, and make up a box dinner. I'm afraid I've been returned to duty."

Nodding, the housekeeper went off. The Commander had long ago left a list of instructions in case he got reactivated, and it was time to get to work. As she watched the man leave in the odd plane that came down in the back yard, she sighed faintly. There was no rest for good men in this world, and her happy musician was unfortunate proof.

Inside the Skyranger, the Commander looked at the videoconference screen in front of him. This was a familiar feeling, harking back to the beginning of the Long War.

"Hello, Commander." The slightly-digitalized voice said, tone neutral as always. "In light of the newest extraterretial incursion, this council of nations has reactivated the XCOM project. You have been chosen again to lead Humanity's first, last, and only line of defense. As before, your actions have a truly massive weight for the future of this planet. The council of nations was impressed and has resoundly applauded your actions in the Long War, and has as such elected you to serve as our sword and shield again."

The teleconference shifted now, to an unfamiliar logo of another organization- NERVE?

"Because of the unusual and extremely potent nature of the enemy, an outside group has been brought into the XCOM project for the duration of the emergency- NERV, a group that has made great leaps into the related fields of these aliens. Given the EXALT incidents, you will be in complete control of all operational assets, with the NERV units directly integrated into the existing chain of command."

Finishing, the man from the Council looked up.

"Good luck, Commander."