The year is 1900. Japan, opened by Commander Perry's fleet of black ships not 50 years ago, is fast on its way to become a power of the same rank as Germany, France, Russia and others. These powers sent expeditions to the last unknown areas of the world to make scientific discoveries and to gain the prestige these discoveries brought with them. Japan, as with all its actions of the time, wants very much to be accepted as an equal on this field as well, and sends the Katsuragi expedition to Antarctica, so that part of it be claimed by the empire of the rising sun.
The Expedition perished in the catastrophe that would be known as Second Impact. That, at least, is the official story.
Known to the Emperor and a few of his most trusted advisors is another story: The expedition stumbled over something it really should not have. Something that had been sleeping there since the dawn of time.
Known to very, very few people on the planet is the truth: The expedition did not stumble.
Imperial Naval Academy,
Kobe
June 13, 1915
"At the end of the 19th century, Japan was widely regarded as a second rate power. While it had defeated China in the war of 1895, the great powers of the world did not consider this a real show of ability. Second Impact changed that. Today, it is without a doubt one of the great powers of the world. The Imperial Navy is the third largest in the world, after the German Hochseeflotte and the United States Navy, and ties with the later in the number of heavy battleships in the Pacific. Our industrial capacity is the 5th largest, after the United States', Germany's, France's and Russia's. Our population ranks us third after, again, the United States and Germany. However, the Americans still maintain their isolationist policy and still labor under the aftermaths of the second Civil War in 50 years."
He gave a short glance to his papers.
"The most likely strategic opponents that Japan has to face are therefore Germany and France, in order of threat the pose to us. The Russians won't be able to make good the loses of their East Asian Fleet for at least another 5 years, and they can not redeploy ships from other areas. The North East Atlantic Fleet can not be sent to reinforce the few ships they have in the Pacific because that would shift the balance of power towards Germany in the European theater. While the Russian Army could certainly try and attack Japans holdings in Manchuria and in Korea, doing so would oblige Germany to come to our aid as the conditions of the Mutual Assistance Treaty demand. Russia can not win a two front war on two sides of its landmass."
"The Americans, as I said, continue their self imposed exile from the world. Unless one actively attacks them, they will remain in their hemisphere. They do, however, account for 52% of Japans iron ore imports and 34% of it's coal and oil imports, which gives them a position from which they could attempt to apply economic pressure on us. Japan should, therefore, work to improve it's trade relations with other nations and further develop its own territories to become self sufficient. As it stands, our foreign policy regarding the United States is determined by the price of iron ore. If iron ore is cheap, and supply is plenty, we can afford to let our relations to the United States suffer. If the price is high, we must make amends. This is no way for a great power to do business."
"France and Germany are the two major antagonists on the European continent. While Germany was hit harder by Second Impact, losing most of its coastal plains, and with it most of its maritime trade and ship building infrastructure, it did win the Second Franco-German War. Even though Germany is allied to us now, we should be under no illusions that this not an alliance of convenience. Germany needs time to rebuild its naval infrastructure, and is ordering new ships built in Japan until it has done so. In return, it supplies us with artillery and aeroplane technology, as well as most of the Zeppelins currently in service with the Imperial Navy and Army. However, Germany's global ambitions will sooner or later bring it into conflict with Japan's own, perhaps as soon as the two heavy battleships currently being built in Japan are finished and on their way to Germany. The first, designated Kurf rst, will be finished in fall 1916, the second, as yet unnamed, in summer 1917."
"France will pounce on any conflict that draws Germany's attention away from Europe - such as a war against a great power on the other side of the world - to regain the areas lost in the two Franco-German wars. It is therefore advisable that Japan does not alienate France too much. Her African colonies can serve the Navy as bases in any conflict with Germany, and it would be our natural ally in such a conflict. For the time being, however, Japan should continue to remain allied to Germany until the time comes when it is advantageous to break the alliance and to side with France to protect our vital interests."
Mouth dry from speaking and legs a little weak from standing so long, he waited for the teachers verdict. In retrospect, he had probably put too much of his own opinion into it. He had not referenced Clausewitz at any point, and had even decided not to put in the almost obligatory Mahan quotes. That could well be his undoing. Granted, Machiavelli would have approved of his final conclusion, but...
"Well done, Mr. Ikari. Mr. Nakao, what are Japans vital interests?"
He all but collapsed into his chair, while the other cadet behind him rose to answer the teacher.
"To protect the sea lanes between her island holdings, her trade relations with the outer world, her colonies in China..."
Imperial Naval Academy,
Kobe
June 14, 1915
It was lunchtime, and with the mess hall full, it took the courier some time to find Shinji. After all, he was just one head bowed over his bowl of rice amongst hundreds, all with the same short cut hair. But eventually he had found the right person. Or at least he thought he had.
Shinji, apparently engrossed in his rice, took some time to notice the man dressed in the uniform of the naval air forces. By the time he looked up at the man, most of the mess hall had stopped eating and stared at the ensign still munching his rice and the man towering above him and holding a salute for 5 minutes now.
After he had looked to his left and right and saw people looking expectantly at him, he rose from his seat and returned the salute. The pilot dropped his.
"Ensign Ikari?" he asked, and when Shinji nodded he held out an envelope. After Shinji took it, he gave a small bow and turned to leave. 400 pairs of eyes watched him go in complete silence. The moment his steps had taken him past the entry of the mess hall, the room exploded into noise.
Shinji still stared at the piece of paper he had been handed. Who would send him a letter by such a high profile delivery service? It was most puzzling.
"Aren't you going to open it?" asked the boy next to him, and Shinji found that the room had gone silent again, everyone apparently wondering why he was still standing around like an idiot. Feeling the eyes of the room on him and blushing madly, Shinji dropped back to his seat. While this did get him out of the view of most of the room, which meant the noise level increased accordingly again, it did not bring him out of sight of the people he was sitting with, all of whom were still looking at him. Giving a mental sigh, he broke the seal and ripped open the envelope.
Inside was, little surprising, a letter. What was surprising was the red border around it, which meant the highest level of security of the Imperial Navy. That, together with the fact that they had decided to send a courier plane meant that whoever had sent it had wanted to make sure that he, and only he, would know what was on it. And that meant reading it in the mess hall would probably be a bad idea.
Normally, one would expect Shinji to finish his meal and look at the letter when he had the time. However, mail calls at the Imperial Naval Academy were very strictly regulated and happened every Sunday. No exceptions. Another cadet had learned that his mother had died on a Monday on the Sunday after. The fact that someone had sent him a letter, had assigned it the highest level of security and had even bothered to send a courier, who was allowed to deliver the letter on the spot meant it had to be read as soon as possible. So Shinji decided to skip the rest of his meal and left the mess hall in a hurry.
After he had found a reasonably quiet spot outside, he opened the envelope again and finally had a good look at its contents. Two sheets of paper were inside, one marked with the red border of highest security, one without. He pulled out the more important one first, read it over and boggled. There was only a single word on it - "Come." He turned the page over, held it against the light and even shook it a little in the hopes of getting a little more out of it, but it was in vain. Only one word remained on the page, and it did not really help him much. Though, to be fair, Shinji had a fairly good idea who would write him such a letter, and who could command such resources After all, his enrolling at the Naval Academy was not his own decision, and it had been his fathers influence who got him there. A well protected home (armed guards stood at every entrance all the time) with regular, if somewhat dull meals was something very much sought after following Second Impact, and the Academy preferred the children of ranking Navy officers. The problem was that they hadn't met in 3 years, and Shinji, frankly, did not really know where his father was right now. Never mind the fact that they would hardly let him leave the Academy on a simple "Come".
Fortunately for him, the second sheet of paper solved these problems for him. It was something he was a lot more comfortable with, a clear set of orders:
"Ensign Shinji Ikari, you are hereby ordered to make all possible haste to Tokyo and report to Captain Ryouji. Use whatever means at your disposal to ensure your timely arrival. Delay in this at your own peril. Your arrival at Tokyo Naval base is expected no later than June 16th, 0800 hours."
Signed Admiral Kataoka, of the First Home Defense Fleet. It was as clear and as blunt an order as he had ever been given, but at least he knew where to go and what to do. First, however, he would have to convince the head of the Academy to let him go.
Imperial Navy Academy,
Kobe
June 14, 1915
As it turned out, Shinji needn't have worried, for Vice Admiral Kondo held up a letter of his own the moment he had stepped into his office and saluted. It had the familiar red border, apparently brought by the very same courier that had sought out Shinji in the mess hall to deliver the letter he was holding in his own hand.
"Mr. Ikari, I was wondering if I had to send out a search party. One would assume that you would be quicker in answering a call of such importance."
Shinji blinked. He had come here as fast as he reasonably could.
"Sir, I...the courier..."
The look on Admiral Kondos face made further defensive measures futile.
"It was my fault, Sir. No excuses, Sir." he said, giving a small bow. The admiral gave a short grunt of acceptance and motioned Shinji to take a seat.
"Mr. Ikari, I will be frank. I don't have any idea why they have ordered you to Tokyo. You are not our best student. You have yet to graduate. Perhaps even more importantly, it is not like we are lacking in naval officers without a post, so we shouldn't have to send out half-trained ensigns. But I can not argue with these orders." He waved with the letter, the gesture telling Shinji what he thought of them.
"You may go. We will send your graduation papers and personal belongings to your new post. It does say 'all possible haste' after all."
Shinji rose, saluted, and turned to leave. Before he could make two steps, the admiral said,
"And one last thing, Mr. Ikari. My orders state that you are going on a combat deployment. While I wouldn't know what you could possibly fight in Tokyo except for boredom, it is still part of my orders. You know what this means, right?"
Shinji nodded, thunderstruck. At least, this explained why Admiral Kondo was so hostile. It was tradition in the Imperial Navy that each officer, from ensign to admiral, received a sword when they left on their first combat deployment, or upon returning from one if high command had not considered the area they were sent to as a potential combat zone. That weapon stayed with them wherever they went after, meaning that every naval officer who wore a sword was guaranteed to have been in combat - or at least close enough to it. As a result, the navy's officer corps was essentially split in two: Those with swords, and those without. Getting a sword was a great honor, representing that one had put ones life on the line to defend Japan. Not to mention that it was a good career boost. It usually took a graduated naval officer years until he got his sword, and Shinji had expected to spend the next 15 years commanding garbage chutes and yard vessels before he would even have a chance at receiving a sword. In fact, Admiral Kondo had gotten his only 6 years ago, when he commanded a cruiser leading an anti-piracy task force along the Chinese coast, some 8 years after his graduation. And that had been considered quick. To be given a sword right out of the Academy was unheard of, and no doubt the admiral felt that Shinji had not earned it. Shinji was inclined to agree.
Before the admiral could voice any further strange details of Shinjis transfer to Tokyo - like if the name Ryouji rang any bells - Shinji left the office and headed for the quartermasters office. Once there, he was once more told he was late, once more acknowledged his own fault for not being there sooner, and after showing his papers once more to ensure everything was as it should be, a very confused quartermaster handed an equally confused Shinji a sword.
He could not make heads or tails from it. Tokyo was not a combat zone. If he was to be shipped elsewhere, he would receive his orders and any potential swords in Tokyo, not at the Academy. To be sent to Tokyo with a sword meant that Tokyo was a very dangerous place - or would be soon enough. For the first time in his life, Shinji came to grips with the fact that he was part of his country's armed forces, and the current global situation meant there was a good chance he would die in its service. He preferred not to dwell on it, pushed such thoughts far away and went on his way to the airstrip near Kobe.
Aboard Imperial Airship Service Zeppelin Hiryu,
Halfway between Kobe and Tokyo
June 14, 1915, Evening
Shinji starred out of the window of the Zeppelin, watching the hills below stream past. Part of him could not believe that this was happening. When he had arrived at the airstrip he had almost expected to be told that no, 'any means at your disposal' did not mean 'any means' but 'take the train, you idiot'. Being a soldier actually meant he was allowed to take trains for transportation - they were otherwise strictly for cargo transport. There simply weren't enough engines to have passenger trains and enough cargo transport to keep the economy going. Certainly, more and more cargo between coastal towns - and Second Impact had ensured that there were a lot more coastal towns than there used to be - was done by ships, but those had to compete with military vessels for yard capacity, and with the rising sea level a strong navy had become even more important. Not to mention that Second Impact had also destroyed most of Japan's coastal infrastructure, and thus loading and unloading capacity was still a major bottleneck.
But there had been no problem. He had shown his marching orders to the loading officer, making very sure he noticed the red border and the phrase 'any means at your disposal', the officer had looked at the orders, then looked at him, then looked at the sword that Shinji had in his belt and apparently came to the conclusion that he was not being paid enough to worry about it. So he sent Shinji to the one he thought was being paid enough to worry about it. The captain of the Hiryu had looked at the orders, then looked at Shinji, then looked at the orders again, then glanced at the sword and finally had welcomed Shinji aboard.
The captain had been standing behind Shinji for several minutes now, and he had started to wonder if he should do something about it. It wasn't so much the presence of the man (though as far as Shinji was concerned, he would feel much better with him on the bridge), but he insisted on making those noises people make when they wanted to talk to someone but were not sure if it was proper. Considering that the captain of the Hiryu was about three times as old as he was, Shinji found it all quite silly. It was probably the sword. Swords always made people nervous. After all, the right of the Samurai to wear swords had been abolished only some 40 years ago, and the Navy had instituted its tradition pretty much immediately after. Part of that may have been the large number of former Samurai in the officer ranks. Century old habits died hard.
And that meant that it was Shinji who had to break the ice.
"A beautiful view. You are a lucky man to hold a command with such a great view." he said, gesturing to Mount Fuji rising in the distance.
The captain looked like Shinji had just told him he was running a terrible ship and that he was doing the empire a great dishonor by it.
"Beg your pardon, Sir, but we wouldn't normally having the pleasure of the view from this point. We have a strong wind from the south, and have changed course accordingly. We would pass Tokyo to its north otherwise and would have to move against the wind to the landing site."
"Oh." Shinji blinked. "I hope this won't delay us too much?"
"Shouldn't be more than 30 minutes. Again, Sir I apologize, but we can't do anything about the wind, and..."
Shinji waved him off.
"It is alright captain. You are doing all you can, I am sure."
With a short bow the captain turned to leave, leaving Shinji to wonder why he had not sent someone else to deliver the simple message that they would be late by about half an hour. Then again, the other passengers - almost all high ranking government officials, by the looks of it, except for a small group of Army officers (without swords, a small but useful part of his mind noted) who were looking rather angrily in his direction - kept their distance from him as well. And, Shinji noted, had not been deemed important enough to be told about the delay.
First Home Defense Fleet Combat Headquarters,
overlooking Tokyo Bay
June 15, 1915, Morning
Gendo Ikari knew that war was chaos, and that battle was anarchy. The so called Art of War was little more than the art of building a dam to stem a tidal wave and point it in the direction one wanted it to take. Yet still, it was always amusing to see men think they could really, truly control a battle. Especially the moment when they realized they really couldn't, much like the commanding general of the Imperial Guards Division was doing now.
"NO! NO! What is he doing?"
This had gone on for a good hour now. A message from the battlefield would come in, and the general would immediately shout out orders that would be outdated by the time they reached the units they were meant for (if those units still existed), and when the reply was back the general would shout again. Had Gendo not known better, he would have assumed the general could only communicate by shouting.
"What do you mean 'he is retreating'! I told him to hold at all costs! Runner!"
Gendo stared impassively as the general dictated a rather scanting message for his hapless subordinate, telling him that he and his soldiers were guardsmen, not some levied peasants, though he would make sure they would fight as levied peasants in the next war if they did not hold. Considering that they would have to survive the battle first to be punished, and considering that they hadn't done so much as slow the enemy down, Gendo expected the commander of the First Regiment of the Guard (or rather what was left of it) to take his chances. Not that he could blame him. Infantry were simply not able to hurt what they were up against here. A fact that the loudest man in the command center was very slow to learn, to the misfortune of his men.
"Where is the damn Navy! Ikari!"
Gendo shot a look to a member of his staff, a young brunette woman in the uniform of the Fleet Support Service. Perhaps this example would rub off on the good general and he could command the battle in a quieter manner.
"First Scouting Squadron made steam as soon as the enemy passed Yokohama Naval Base. They should be moving towards Tokyo Bay as we speak. If they run ahead full they should be on the scene within the next 20 minutes." Someone handed her a report. "First Naval Aviation Squadron has acknowledged our request for assistance and is assembling a strike force now. They should be able to make their run within the hour."
The general gave a derisive snort.
"Should! Should! All I hear is should! Is that what His Majesty's Navy has to offer to defend the capital from destruction? Vague promises while the Guard stands firm and dies to allow His Majesty to reach safety?"
He could have answered that the Guard obviously did not stand very firm at all, considering that its general had to remove two battalion commanders, both with numerous commendations for bravery, for what he called cowardice and what Gendo called a predictable sense of self preservation. He chose to remain silent. After all, that the Guard died was not in doubt. That their deaths had any kind of effect on the enemy was very much so.
But for now, they kept the enemy occupied, and if everything went as he expected it to, they would not have to bear the brunt of the fighting much longer. And if the Guard fell in the time it took until his son got here, well, that was what the Navy was there for.
"Reinforcements are on the way. I will be outside to observe the battle. Mr. Fuyutsuki will take over."
The general had already gone back to the map to find out that for some inexplicable but probably very logical reason, his men died where they stood or ran so they didn't.
Aboard Imperial Airship Service Zeppelin Hiryu,
approaching Tokyo Bay
June 15, 1915, late Morning
Shinji had slept well and relished in having a bathroom for himself, small though it may have been, before eating a good breakfast. He thought himself more than ready for whatever battle awaited him in Tokyo. The captain had assured him (and, to his continued embarrassment, only him) that they would be on time. It was therefore with some surprise that he noted that the airship had turned around again - he could see the sea south of Tokyo to the left of the Zeppelin, when it should have been to the right - and was apparently heading in the wrong direction. When the airship changed course again to the north, away from the coast, the passengers started to talk quietly amongst each other. Some of the people, Shinji assumed, used the Airship Service more often than he had (more than once, that is), and their nervousness was not a good sign either.
He had been educated in the tradition of the Imperial Navy, which had kept Japan save during the bloody wars that swept the globe in the aftermath of Second Impact. A navy officer, he had been taught, never waited for someone to solve a situation. When the situation required it, he would take command and use his own judgment to do what he thought was right in this situation. The most vivid example given was the story of a young ensign, fresh from Kobe Academy (and the story probably told for that very reason), who, after the cruiser he had been on had been swept out of the harbor in the initial tidal wave that heralded Second Impact, took command of it because most of the senior officers had been on land at the time (and therefore dead) and the third officer, the ranking captain of the ship had been thrown overboard and lost in the turmoil. He continued to run the ship for 2 weeks before they could find a harbor that was not blocked by debris, sinking into the ocean or involved in a hunger revolt.
This example Shinji had in mind when he decided to pay the captain a visit.
Aboard Imperial Navy battle cruiser Kongo
Tokyo Bay
June 15, 1915, midday
The palace still stood. That was the first thing rear admiral Yamamoto noticed. And there was a giant green...monster...demon...thing happily destroying most of the city around it. From time to time, explosions from what he thought were army or perhaps coastal artillery guns would make it stumble back, only to right itself immediately and continue on its way. It did seem to be going for the palace grounds. Why it had not reached them, Yamamoto could not comprehend, it did not seem like the defenders had made any impression on it.
"The last message we received of Fleet Headquarters said the Emperor has left the city. We don't have to worry about hitting the palace." his radio officer reported.
Yamamoto smiled. "Lets still try and keep it intact. We don't want High Command to think we would serve the Emperor better as military attaches to Andorra."
The dry chuckles of the bridge officers sounded a bit forced, Yamamoto thought. But still, he had to maintain the facade. If their commanding officer showed nervousness, it would only spread. He noted with some satisfaction that Captain Matsuoka seemed completely untroubled by the situation, his face looking almost like he was terribly bored by it. There was a fine line between showing indifference towards the enemy and showing contempt, the later almost always asking for a humbling defeat.
"Signal the squadron to form line astern and prepare for a course change 30 degrees starboard to expose our rear guns. Once all ships have made the turn the squadron will slow to a stop, drop anchor and shell the enemy. I want the first salvo to be fired in sequence, after that every ship fires as soon as it has reloaded. That should allow a good compromise between rate of fire and observation of shell drop."
The last was a major problem well known to any navy officer. On the one hand, one wanted to keep up the highest rate of fire possible in battle. Yet at the same time, one had to observe the drop of the shell to adjust the range. Not as much of a problem when both sides had the same amount of ships, as one could assign every ship one target and avoid the problem entirely. It was more problematic if one side has less ships than the other, or even just one. Unless strict fire discipline was kept, the ships could not identify which shells were theirs and could not adjust their fire accordingly. Yamamoto himself owed his life to this very problem, when the cruiser he commanded in 1911 had run into the entire Pacific Fleet of the Empire of India, Australia, New Zealand and Britain (not to be confused with the Republic of Australia, New Zealand and Britain, which actually controlled Australia and New Zealand, and also not to be mistaken for one of the other three Empires of India and Britain, and certainly not to be taken for the Empire of Hong Kong, India and Britain in Exile). In a very confusing night battle, he managed to extract his ship with minimal damage because the enemy had opened fire indiscriminately, which earned him a (unfounded, in his opinion) reputation as a tactical genius.
The Kongo had made the turn as ordered and was training her 38 cm guns on the green giant still rampaging around the city. The explosions had stopped, which either meant the artillery pieces the army had in the area had run out of ammunition or out of people to fire them.
Captain Matsuoka looked across the bridge to Yamamoto.
"Sir, we are ready to engage the target at your command."
"Fight your ship, captain." Yamamoto said and stepped to the bridge window to observe the fight. His job was done. He had made a plan, instructed his men and set it into motion. Now he just had to wait and observe, to make adjustments to the plan if that would prove necessary. Running the ship was the captain's job, not his. After a short pause, Matsuoka gave the command to open fire. The bridge shook as Kongo sent the first 8 shells across the bay towards the target. Behind her, Haruna had made the turn and Hiei was starting into it. A short moment later, a roar from behind told them that Haruna had fired her salvo. Another few seconds and Kongo's shells landed, giant explosions around the enemy throwing columns of smoke and debris high into the air.
"A good spread on the first salvo, captain. Tell your gunners that I am very impressed."
Captain Matsuoka gave a silent nod. Yamamoto looked back through his binoculars. When the smoke cleared, the abomination still stood, but apparently was very confused what just happened. Then Haruna's shells impacted all across the area, making further observation impossible. He lowered his binoculars.
"We are firing high explosive shells, is that correct?" he asked the captain, who nodded.
"As is standard procedure when shelling a land target."
"Well," the Admiral said, "we aren't shelling an army in the open. Its a big target, more like a battleship on land. And so far we haven't made an impression on it at all."
"Begging the Admirals pardon, but we have only just started the bombardment, surely..."
The smoke had cleared again, and in the brief moment before Hiei's salvo made direct observation impossible again, they could both see that the enemy still stood tall, not a sign of damage visible on his body. But it had turned around, and so the men on Kongo's bridge could see the strange avian mask looking at them.
"Is that its...head?"
"We don't even know if it is alive!"
"Should we aim for it anyway?"
One of Hiei's shells produced a direct hit on the enemy, apparent because, for a brief moment, a strange hexagonal shine could be seen. Yamamoto wasn't sure what it was, but did not like the look of it at all. When the haze cleared, the enemy still stood as if nothing had happened. The admiral turned towards his signal officer.
"Signal the fleet to switch to armor piercing rounds. Tell the Kirishima to remain on High Explosives for the time being."
The man gave a short nod and went to to carry out his orders, when the Kongo suddenly lurched to the right while her bow swept to the left. Yamamoto barely avoided being swept off his feet.
"Are we hit?" shouted a voice over the general mayhem, as the officers and the men manning the various stations all tumbled around the bridge.
"Fire astern!" screamed another, causing every head on the bridge to turn to the rear of the ship, only to see what appeared as a giant cross made of light quickly fade and be replaced by a big black column of smoke, rising from between Kongo's two rear turrets, that told of a huge fire burning below decks.
Yamamoto really hoped that what he just saw had just been a trick of the light of the midday sun. He began to get the familiar but uncomfortable feeling of being hopelessly outmatched. Meanwhile, Matsuoka was fighting to save his ship.
"Flood the aft magazine! If the fire reaches it, we're..." he did not finish, but an enormous explosion did show everyone what would happen if a fire reached the giant storerooms of powder and explosives that held the ammunition for Kongo's rear turrets. The force of the explosion lifted her clear out of the water, before gravity took over again and she slammed back down. When Yamamoto came back to his feet he noted with some shock that only the forward half of Kongo was still there, everything aft of the rear funnel was just gone. And the forward half was sinking fast, no amount of damage control or watertight compartments being able to stem this amount of destruction. With her engines, screws and steering gone, Kongo and the admiral aboard her had become little more than observers in the increasingly one sided battle.
Temporary combat headquarters, First Home Defense Fleet,
Overlooking Tokyo Bay
June 15, 1915, Midday
The men observing the battle from a small hill looked with growing horror at the destruction wrought by the enemy on the powerful fleet that had sailed to save the city. In the second shot, it had ripped off one of Haruna's forward turrets, and when the ships had turned, had fired a third shot into Haruna's back, slicing of her funnels and bridge. Robbed of her steering and command, the battle cruiser kept turning around while her crew fought to regain control of her course.
All of the men, that is, except for Gendo Ikari, who remained stoic in face of destruction, and the man standing next to him. While the latter was exhibiting an air of almost forced carelessness about the damage being inflicted on the once proud ships, the former kept his face from displaying any hint of surprise or shock. It was at if he had neither expected any other outcome, nor had he hoped against reason for it.
"Interesting. It can adapt its combat abilities to suit its needs." the man with the highly unmilitary ponytail said.
"Of course it can. Without reconnaissance before the battle, the enemy had to either send a force able to deal with whatever we threw at it, or a single unit that could adapt to a changing situation. They chose the later. This means that we can not beat it by changing tactics. We will have to beat it by force instead."
Hiei and Kirishima, the last two combat capable warships left of the small flotilla that had engaged the monster in the city not 15 minutes ago, had completed their turns and were steaming away at full speed, their captains apparently deciding that sacrificing their ships here served no real purpose. Haruna was still steaming in circles. The green giant now focused back onto it, but apparently had trouble hitting a target not moving in a straight line, and so sent huge columns of water and steam, as well as strange cross shaped pillars of light, into the air all around the stricken ship.
Neither of the two men seemed too concerned with its fight of survival.
"And what now? Do you want me to sortie in Unit 01?" asked the man with the ponytail, but his superior only shook his head.
"That won't be necessary. But I do think a crucial part of our victory is about to arrive." he said, gesturing to a small speck in the sky which a look through a pair of binoculars would have revealed to be a Zeppelin.
Aboard Imperial Airship Service Zeppelin Hiryu,
approaching Tokyo
about 1 hour earlier
The bridge of an airship was a small affair, not nearly as spacious as the bridge on a wet navy ship of the same size would be. It was large enough for 4 people to go about their business, but anyone over that number and things got cramped. Airship bridges were not a place for visitors. Still, no one told Shinji to leave. Instead, people did their best to ignore him, even going so far as to squeeze around him when they had to move past him rather than asking him to move. After 10 minutes of this, Shinji thought he had payed enough respect to the proper form, given the circumstances. He cleared his throat. When nothing happened, he did so again, but a bit louder. Still no one acknowledged him. Instead, the people on the bridge seemed to be even more intent on ignoring him. Orders were given and acknowledged a bit louder, as if the crew had to work against a new and very annoying source of noise.
Another 10 minutes passed without any progress, and Shinji finally spoke up.
"Why have we changed course?"
He immediately winced inwardly. That had come out entirely the wrong way, less like a valid question of a curious bystander and more like the question a teacher would ask a student to make him admit his terribly obvious mistake. The effect of the question was quite astonishing. Everyone on the bridge stopped what they were doing and waited to see what happened now. The captain of the Zeppelin, who had up till now stood at the front of the bridge looking out, perhaps as much because he had to as because he wanted to keep his back to Shinji, turned slightly in his direction, so he could look at him over his shoulder.
"I am very sorry, but we received word from the Tokyo air base that the city is under attack. We can not land there." With that, he turned back around, obviously eager to get away from the stranger on his bridge.
The flat tone in which this was delivered made it sound like a perfectly reasonably thing, like the captain had just told him that wind conditions were unfavorable for a landing, or that the landing site had been overrun by monkeys. Therefore, it took a moment for the full meaning to come through. Tokyo was under attack.
"And you are just going to fly in circles while Tokyo burns?"
The captain did not even bother to look at him this time.
"This is not a combat Zeppelin. We have no guns, and we carry no planes. I can not risk the ship, or endanger the passengers. We will have to wait until Tokyo has been secured." he told the window in front of him.
Shinji thought about the orders he had been given. His left hand involuntarily fingered the hilt of the sword in his belt.
Any means at his disposal.
"Make the landing." he said, in a voice very much unlike his own. He had wanted it to sound strong, calm, competent, in charge. Instead, it had come out more like a desperate plea.
The captain did not respond.
Shinji's hand tightened around the sword, his other hand moving to the hilt to draw it out of its sheath. Or at least give the impression that he was about to do so.
"Make the landing." That had come out much better. It was surprising what the feeling of a weapon in his hand had done to his confidence and, consequentially, his voice.
The captain had noticed, too. He turned around to see Shinji standing there in the middle of the small bridge of the airship, a look on his face that tried very hard to be intimidating, and apparently ready to draw his sword and enforce the order.
The two men - or rather, the man in his early forties and the 15 year old boy - stared at each other, as if unaware of the presence of the other people on the bridge, locked in a battle of will. The captain really did not want to attempt a landing. He knew how fragile his ship was, that even a stray bullet - and battlefields had a tendency to produce stray bullets - that hit one of the gas cells would cause the Hiryu to live up to her name and spit fire. Yet on the other hand, he also thought that being run through with a sword by an overzealous teenager wasn't exactly the way he wanted to leave this world. Not that burning to death because said teenager had forced him to drive a giant flying target filled with hydrogen into battle was much better. But as any other person in such a situation, he decided to go with almost certain death in a few minutes over almost certain death now.
Shinji, for his part, was certain that he had failed. That the captain had called his bluff. That he would be thrown off the bridge, and subsequently turned over to the military police after landing, to be tried for attempting to hijack one of the Emperors own airships. And even if they didn't turn him over, he would have failed his orders to report in time. The Imperial Navy accepted very few excuses for such a thing. They would call him a fool for attempting to tell an experienced captain what to do; a fool for taking the airship in the first place when trains were readily available (but less comfortable, meaning that obviously he was unwilling to make even the smallest sacrifice for his country!) and finally a fool for assuming he had rights far above his rank and station. And then, they would kick him out of the Navy and send him back to his father, who would tell him he was even less useful now, before sending him away again.
"Very well. Lay in course for Tokyo airbase."
The helmsman acknowledged the order, and Shinji left the bridge before anyone could see how much his knees shook.
Temporary Combat Headquarters, First Home Defense fleet,
overlooking Tokyo Bay
June 15, 1915, midday
The battle was all but over now. Everyone could see that. The Guard had mostly broken and run, with only small group of very brave - or very fanatic - or very stupid - soldiers attempting to hold the main gate of the Imperial Palace. Apparently, they had not quite realized that the monster they were facing cared very little about walls, and made gates where it needed them.
Still, Gendo Ikari was confident they would win the battle. Everything had worked as expected, and while the sacrifice of the Guard might appear to have been in vain, the enemy had spent enough time beating on them, blowing up artillery positions and digging out machine gun posts for his final set piece to arrive. He had sent Captain Ryouji to make sure it arrived intact. Gendo figured it would take maybe 15 minutes to get him here, and perhaps another 10 to ensure his cooperation. The problem was that they had just about run out of things to throw at the enemy, and Gendo had his doubts that it would be so kind as to sit around for half an hour while he organized it's defeat.
Rescue arrived with the droning of aircraft engines. Looking up, he could see a flight of planes breaking formation to make their attack runs. He relaxed ever so slightly. If they managed to stall the enemy for a few more minutes, they were saved. Coming straight out of the sun, the first strafing plane caught the enemy by surprise, walking its machine gun fire up its body before breaking off to regain height and repeat the attack. Standard tactic for such an attack was to form a continuous circle of planes gaining height and distance, planes lining up and planes making their attack run, to maintain a steady stream of fire on the enemy. If done right, the constant attack soon eroded the enemy's will to resist, even if it did not outright kill him. The problem in this situation, of course, was that their enemy was not disturbed by their attacks at all, which consequently failed to damage either his ability or his will to fight. But they were buying time. Already, the green giant had stopped advancing towards the palace and was trying to hit the nimble little planes. After he had missed a few, he seemed to ponder what to do for a moment, before rising what passed as a hand and pointing it at the next plane that was diving towards him. The plane completed its run, but at the moment it broke of and turned to climb again, a beam shot out from the creatures hand, slicing clean through the plane, it's burning remains drifting to earth. Their ammunition almost gone, having done no discernible damage to the enemy, and now faced with an opponent that could fight back with impunity, the remaining planes beat a hasty retreat.
Shooting one last glance at the monstrosity as it turned again to make its way to the palace grounds, Gendo Ikari left the small hill he had been standing on for the last 2 hours and went towards the hangar bay, and the first meeting with his son in 3 years.
Imperial Airship Service airbase,
Tokyo
June 15, 1915, midday
An unusual sight greeted Shinji when he exited the Zeppelin. Not only that the huge battle he had expected seemed to be over already, but there was even a welcoming committee waiting for him. Admittedly, it was only one man, a naval officer (wearing a sword, the small but useful part of his mind noted) coming straight for him.
"Shinji Ikari, I presume?" the man said smiling.
Shinji stood at attention and raised his hand in salute.
"Ensign Ikari, repo..." he began, but the man waved him off with a grin.
"No time for that, I'm afraid. We will have to hurry. This way." he said and turned around.
He began walking a very brisk pace towards a staff car waiting at the edge of the field, forcing Shinji to run to catch up to him.
They reached the car at about the same time, and the man put the pedal to the floor the moment Shinji collapsed into his seat. He felt himself being pressed into the seat, but the driver seemed not too concerned by his slightly green look.
"I am sorry to have cut short our introduction. I'm Captain Ryouji, Special Naval Landing Forces." To Shinjis horror, he actually held out his hand for him to shake while trying to navigate the narrow streets of Tokyo at a breakneck speed.
At least his introduction explained a few things. The Japanese Marines were noted for being...odd. Shinji always assumed that it was because it took a certain kind of person to storm a beach against machine gun fire. Just like the Special Air Landing Group of the Imperial Army took a certain kind of people, the kind of people that jumped out of perfectly fine air ships while they were several hundred meters up in the air. The SNLF had a reputation for not taking the military dress code too seriously while in the field, and while Ryoujis uniform was spotless, his ponytail was decidedly against regulation. Considering the rest of the SNLFs reputation, Shinji decided not to press that issue. At least not while his survival depended on the continued goodwill of the driver.
"I'm Ensign Ikari, err, I don't have a unit I guess..."
Captain Ryouji grinned again.
"I would say that will be the least of your problems."
Before he could elaborate on what Shinjis more pressing problems would be, something odd caught Shinjis attention. A young man with what appeared to be blue hair, wearing a hospital drab, was standing in the middle of the road. Shinji screamed and Ryouji hit the brakes. Hard. The car went from almost 100 kilometers per hour to zero in the span of a few seconds. Shinji had trouble staying in his seat. The interior of the car started to stink of burned rubber.
"What was that?" Shinji shouted.
"Did you see that?" asked Ryouji, his face white as a sheet. Shinjis face wasn't looking much better, though with a noticable greenish tinge.
"Did we hit him?" Shinji craned his neck to look behind the car, but saw no body lying on the road. "I don't think we hit him."
"Her." said Ryouji, shaking his head. "Damn, we have no time for this." he put the car into gear again and accelerated away. It took a moment for his grin to return, and Shinji noted that his brow was still furrowed in thought.
The car almost flew over a hill top, and Shinji got his first look at the battlefield. The Hiryu had snuck up on the airfield at low altitude to avoid detection by the enemy, and the hills surrounding the base had prevented him from seeing anything of the battle at all. Now, he was astonished at the destruction it had wrought. He could see two ships burning in the bay, and with some horror he recognized them as two Kongo class battle cruisers. Or at least what had been two battle cruisers before whatever enemy had attacked them. Now they were nightmares of twisted and molten metal, laying in the shallow waters of Tokyo Bay. A path of utter destruction had been cut through the city, an area where no building had been left standing, not even piles of rubble to see where one had stood. Instead, it was a series of craters, both big and small, sometimes overlapping each other.
Noticing Shinjis open mouthed stare, his companion gave a short amused snort.
"Well, it could be worse. As I was leaving, your father was just talking the general of the Guard out of using the hydrogen cyanide shells."
Shinji could not believe his ears. How desperate had the situation been that the man charged with defending the capital had been willing to use poison gas on it?
"Did we...did we win?"
The smile on Ryoujis face vanished for good. He shook his head.
"Not yet."
First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar Bay
Tokyo
June 15, 1915, early afternoon
The rest of the journey passed uneventful, if one wanted to call several clear violations of the laws of motion physics uneventful. Shinji, for one, wanted to do so, if only for the reason that he wanted to forget about it as soon as possible. His stomach was still churning, and he did not want to give in to motion sickness now that he was back on solid ground. He was a naval ensign, after all. Naval ensigns did not get motion sickness. That was for the aptly named Army pukes.
They had left the car at the entrance of the hangar, right next to the two giant doors. Shinji had expected to find a Zeppelin here, but it appeared that the hangar was empty. Captain Ryouji, however, kept walking further into the hangar. His face now looked more worried than ever. Finally he stopped.
"We're here." Ryouji said, a little too loud for just Shinji to hear.
Shinji looked around but could only make out a vague shape in front of them in the half dark of the hangar. Then someone threw a switch and the lights at the ceiling came on, illuminating the area. And the giant sitting in front of them. Shinji had to take an involuntary step back from the monster. It was slumped now, kneeling as if in thought, but when standing up to its full height it would probably reach up to the ceiling, some 30 meters above Shinjis head. It was obviously fashioned after an ancient Samurai armor, with a fearsome mask under it's helmet. It's left shoulder had a wide shield attached to it, covering it almost to it's waist if it stood fully upright, and it was holding a strange, twisted, two pronged spear or lance in its right hand.
Shinji could only think of one question to ask.
"What is that thing?"
Before Ryouji could answer, a familiar voice spoke up from a part of the walkway above the machine that had remained outside the pillar of light shining down on it.
"This is a Type 70 mechanical fighting machine called an Evangelion, Unit 1."
His fathers voice.
"It is Japans greatest triumph, and now it's last hope of survival." his father said, as he began to walk along the walkway with perfectly measured steps, apparently not in any hurry.
"We face an enemy that conventional weapons can not defeat. The Evangelion can."
He reached his position right above the head of the Evangelion and turned to look down at Shinji.
"You will pilot it."
First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar Bay
Tokyo
June 15, 1915, early afternoon
Shinji wondered if the car ride had upset more than just his stomach. Obviously, he was hearing things. Like his father, after three years without a single word (broken by what had, in fact, been a single word), demanding he pilot a giant mechanical humanoid. Which could not possibly be true. The fact that Captain Ryouji next to him looked quite shocked probably meant that his hearing was, unfortunately, accurate.
"Sir, with due respect, I do not believe this is the time to introduce a new pilot..." Ryouji said.
"But I do believe so. You are wasting time. Introduce Ensign Ikari to the controls of the Evangelion and then meet me at the observation site." his father said and turned to leave.
"I...father...Sir, surely there are mor..." Shinji began before being cut of by a look from his father.
"I have made my decision, Ensign Ikari. And I believe I made it clear to you." he said and left.
Shinji and the Captain remained behind, both shocked into inactivity for a moment. Then Ryouji spoke up, the easy carelessness back in his voice.
"Heartwarming. He is right, though. We are running out of time. If we want to save this city we will have to hurry." he said and walked over to a ladder leading up to the walkway. Shinji followed.
Up on the walkway over the Evangelion, under the brim of the helmet, Shinji could see the bridge, (no, the cockpit, the small but usefull part of his brain corrected) for the first time. It seemed quite comfortable for a machine of war. It's seat was polstered, and there was a large dashboard holding a multitude of dials on the front side. The cockpit seemed to lack any sort of steering mechanism, though, but before Shinji could ask about that, Ryouji had pointed to a small hatch in front of the cockpit.
"Alright Shinji, get in the front cockpit."
Shinji stepped on the shoulder of the metal giant and went to the hatch. He peered inside.
"I know there is no seat there. Just put your legs through it and feel for the stirrups. Make sure you get your feet inside the harness first."
Stirrups?, Shinji thought. What was this, a horse? It did not look like a horse. Shinji sat on the edge of the hatch, forced his legs through it and felt around, but found nothing to stand on.
"They are lower. Just get in there. Keep your arms above the hatch and drop until you find them." Captain Ryouji explained, in a very calm voice that Shinji never would have expected from a SNLF officer. He had expected a great deal more shouting, and comparisons of his intelligence with that of progressively less developed animals. Still, the whole thing seemed just silly, especially when Ryouji calmly told him to remove his sword, which had kept him from forcing his way deeper into the machine. By then Shinjis face was deep red from both extortion and embarassment, and still the Captain refused to raise his voice. He did not even make the small quibs that Shinji had come to expect from him.
Getting his feet into the harness was not the problem, finding the stirrups was. Finally, as Shinji was hanging like a drowning swimmer in the hatch, with only his arms keeping him from falling into the belly of the beast, his feet brushed against something. He felt around and found a metal bar to stand on. It swung around a lot and did not really give any impression of giving him secure footing. After he found the other stirrup, and getting his other foot into it, he gave a nod to the captain crouching next to the hatch.
"Well done. Now move your right arm in and search for a grip." Shinji fumbled around inside the head of the metalic monster, until he finally found a cage with a metallic handle inside. He gripped it firmly. It was a surreal scene, with the two men alone in a giant hangar, working quietly on a giant mechanical war machine, even though the fate of the city, possibly the country (and really the entire world) hung in the balance. Yet there was no sign of hurry, as if they had all the time in the world.
Finally, Shinji had both feet in the stirrups, both hands griping metal handles, only his head still visible outside the hatch. Captain Ryouji stood up and walked over to the rear cockpit. He dropped into the seat.
"Shinji, this will feel a little weird. Just relax." he said and turned a switch. Shinji screamed as the harness through which he had stuck his legs and arms suddenly thightened and wrapped around every part of his body, cut into the flesh of his legs and his upper and lower arms. It took him a moment to notice what the purpose was. The harness was connected to the Evangelion using wires, and Shinji guessed they were used to fixate the pilot. He now stood firmly inside the stirrups where before he had been shaking like a leaf. That did not mean it was comfortable. It wasn't. Even the slightest movement made it dig into his flesh. Fighting a battle in this would be hell. But his torture wasn't over just yet.
"Are you alright?" When Shinji gave a shaky affirmative, the disgustingly calm voice from the rear cockpit continued. "Good. Now Shinji, I want you to really relax your muscles. This is very important."
This order did nothing to help Shinji relax, and after some deep breaths he said he was as realxed as he would ever be.
"Relax. This will fell very weird." Before Shinji could really wonder how it could top the feeling of being tied to a giant warmachine, Ryouji had turned another switch, dropping the entire apparatus deeper into the machine. Shinji was now alone in complete darkness, hanging around like a puppet waiting for its next use. He would not have been able to see his hand before his eyes, if he had been able to move it. Then, the lines connecting the harness to the Evangelion went taunt, and in that moment Shinji knew why Ryouji had insisted on him relaxing his muscles. As if an invisible puppet master had taken hold of him, his right leg snapped back, his left leg bending up until Shinji was effectivly kneeling in midair inside the Evangelion's body. Then his arms were moved the same way until his right held an invisible spear shaft, his left was resting on his left knee. His body mirrored the stance of the Evangelion as it rested on the hangar floor.
Shinji felt more than saw Ryouji leave. Metal ground on metal, and slawly light shone inside his cockpit again as the helmet swung back to cover the rear cockpit. The face mask he had observed earlier now acted as armor for the pilot, but had the disadvantage of limiting his frontal field of view.
"Well, that worked better than I expected. Now don't touch anything until I tell you to." said Ryoujis voice from his left. Turning his head in that direction Shinji noticed a view port set into the side of the helmet, besides which the Captain was crouching. "Good. Now, it is all very simple from here on in. You move the Evangelion like you move your body. In fact, you move it as you move your body. The Evangelion is powered by an electrical generator the creates the hydraulic pressure for the limbs. You get your energy by a cable trailing behind you. Make sure it does not get stuck. If you lose the cable, left middle finger switch activates the emergency petrol engine that powers the generator. You have to be careful, your fuel only lasts for about 5 minutes under battle conditions. If you lose your cable, retreat. I would advise against touching any other buttons or switches, at least for now. Head for the palace and engage the enemy. Any last questions?"
Shinjis head still swam from the torrent of information dumped on him. He figured he couldn't really ask if his father had gone insane, so he only shook his head.
"Any last words? Any girls I should tell that you told me to tell them you loved them if you die? No?"
Shinji did not appreciate his attempts to loosen up the situation. He was about to go into his first battle, in a machine he had not known anything about maybe 15 minutes earlier, against an enemy that had apparently not been hurt by anything man could throw at it, armed with nothing but his courage and a spear. And frankly, his courage was not exactly weapons-grade right now. When he remained silent, Ryouji moved away from the viewport and went back to the walkway. A short moment later, he reappeared on the hangar floor, well in front of Shinji.
"Good hunting then, Ensign Ikari. I will make sure the world will know what you did here today, even if you don't live to tell the tale." he almost shouted before he walked to a small panel at the side of the hangar and threw a big switch.
Immediately, the the dials set into the rear of the face mask started to turn, displaying information Shinji could not interpret at all. When most of them stopped turning, Shinji took a deep breath and attempted to stand up. Without feeling the ground below him, he could do little more than straighten his legs and hope for the best. The problem was that, while he was used to push up when standing up from a crouch, he was now pushing down. It was really not as simple as Captain Ryouji had promised. Concentrating hard on keeping his feet at the same level as best he could, he could feel and see the Evangelion rise, the hangar roof coming closer and closer until he realized that his legs were fully stretched. Droping a little, he suddenly felt the center of gravity shift. He instinctivly made a side step. The machine followed, and he managed to stabilize himself and the Evangelion.
Shinji was quite proud of himself for this achievement. Next would be forward walking. Rising his leg and taking a step in midair, he started on his way towards battle.
Temporary Combat Headquarters, First Home Defense Fleet
overlooking Tokyo
June 15, 1915, early afternoon
Standing atop the small hill that served as the temporary combat headquarters (by virtue of being the place where Rear Admiral Ikair happened to be at the moment), Gendo watched the Evangelion and his son marching through the streets of Tokyo towards the palace. Granted, it did, on occasion, march through a house, but it was really trying to stay on the streets. And it wasn't like houses couldn't be rebuild, provided there was a city left after the Evangelion and it's enemy were done.
But after all, it was not the city they were protecting, so that was really a minor concern.
"So, I see he has decided to pilot after all." said the voice of Commodore Fuyutsuki behind him.
"He had his orders, and he followed them." Gendo replied.
"You and me both know that being ordered to do something and doing something are two entirely different things."
Gendo said nothing. Fuyutsuki had hit upon one of the dirtiest secrets of military command: That, fundamentally, soldiers could not be ordered or forced to fight. Certainly, one could punish a man who did not fight. But what did an officer do if every man refused? At some basic level, the soldiers had to want to go into battle, and making them wanting to do so was what Gendo considered half his job. The other half was to do everything in his power to make sure the enemy did not get a fair fight. That he was forced instead to fight an unwinnable battle. Some officers of his rank thought their job was to direct the battle, and therefore studied past battles and engaged in mock fights at the sand table. Gendo followed the philosophy that a well motivated force fighting from a superior position would win without his interference. Tactics wasn't his strength at all and something he prefered to leave to his unit commanders. It did require a great amount of trust in them, and had he not been able to hand pick his subordinates probably would not work at all.
"So why does he fight?" Fuyutsuki wondered aloud. A former professor of Osaka University, he had joined the military when his university fell victim to one of the new volcanos that erupted all over Japan in the wake of Second Impact. He certainly did not have a military mind and prefered to do the paperwork necessary to keep an army running. His complete lack of drive towards battle or promotion, Gendo mused while he watched his son tear down a house to free his electrical cable, was probably half the reason why he had been assigned to such an uneventful post. The First Home Defense Fleet defended Tokyo from naval invasions. That meant they fought when the entire navy had already failed to protect the home islands and the Yokohama coastal fortress had failed to stop the enemy from steaming up Tokyo Bay. As a result, it was a post generally given to people who were considered unfit for frontline assignments for a variety of reasons.
Fuyutsukis weakness for bureacracy also meant that Gendo had less to do, and that did made his constant attempts at discussing some minor aspect of war somewhat more bearable. Seeing how nothing of note was happening, and since he had no means of changing the course of battle or communicating with Shinji anyway - the Evangelion carried no communication gear due to weight issues - he decided to humor him.
"He wants to impress me, obviously. Furthermore, he has spent the last five years training to be a soldier, and now he has the chance to prove himself as a soldier among soldiers."
"So that is why you sent Ryouji to pick him up?" ,his second in command wondered.
"He is 14 years old. His world is a bit simpler than ours. I give him a hero to touch and he wants to become one as well."
"That may well mean his death." Fuyutsuki interjected.
"He would just be the first of many, if he fails to defeat the Angel."
Seeing Captain Ryouji approach, the two men fell silent. Ryouji, in tradition of the SNLF, did not salute his superior officers on the field of battle but gave a short nod and stood next to Gendo. After a short moment in which the Evangelion walked straight through the wall surrounding the palace compound, Ryouji leaned to Gendo and said "Sir, while I was escorting Ensign Ikari here, we almost ran over someone looking very much like Rei. Are you sure she is still in the hospital?"
Gendo kept his face passive. He was not sure she was still in hospital, and considering there were very few (indeed only one) persons with the her features, there was a good reason to assume that she wasn't. Which meant that one of his pilots was now wandering the streets of Tokyo in the middle of a battle.
"And why," said Gendo, his voice ice cold, "did you not tell me about that the moment you saw me?"
Ryouji smirked for a moment before he managed to supress it with some difficulty - or perhaps relunctance, one could never tell with him. "With due respect Sir, you did not give me much time to do so."
It were incidents like these that had made Ryouji a virtual outcast, even among the normally rather undisciplined SNLF soldiers. He simply did not understand that there were times when a man of his rank should apologize and shut up - or maybe he did understand, and was just unwilling to do so. Either way, he had been on his way to a dishonorable discharge when Gendo had managed to request him for transfer to the First Home Defense Fleet. No one doubted his competence in all matters tactical, but his superiors were more than happy to see him gone to an unimportant post far to the rear, and perhaps even more importantly, far away from them.
"Permission to head a search party, Sir?" he said now, perhaps in an attempt to escape Gendos wrath, which he probably expected to come down on him for his transgression.
Gendo shook his head.
"No need Captain. There will be time for that once the battle is over, and it will be over before you can find her anyway."
Suprise visible on his face, Ryouji fell silent next to him. It was perhaps very fortunate that he did not know the role he was playing in the big game, Gendo thought, or else he would be even more insufferable.
Imperial Palace,
Tokyo
June 15, 1915, early afternoon
The enemy Gendo had called an Angel (and which did not look like an Angel at all) had broken through the last line of defense a good half hour ago, but once it had reached its goal, it seemed to have forgotten what it had come for in the first place. Having brushed aside any resistance with ease, it had spent the last half hour blowing up random buildings on the palace grounds, as if it enjoyed the destruction of human works. Or perhaps it was just curious what was inside them, because it would walk over to each new crater to peer inside (assuming that the holes in its avian skull-like mask were eyes), before blowing up something else.
Therefore the palace grounds that Shinji walked on had little resemblance to the lush gardens that the Emperor used to walk in. The flowers had been trampled, it's trees burned and the koi ponds boiled. What had been one of the most beautiful (if very exclusive) places in Japan only a few hours ago, was now fast on its way to resemble an uninhabitable desert.
Shinji had first seen the monster as he had stepped out from behind the main palace building, and while he had not quite expected something that blew up buildings by looking at them, the fact that he had not met anyone who shot at him while he was moving towards the palace had tipped him off that he was probably not dealing with a conventional attack. Bipedal seamonsters with death rays still weren't anywhere on the list of what he had thought he would fight, but an officer of the Imperial Navy, as Shinji considered himself to be, was nothing if not able to improvise.
Coming up behind the monster, Shinji wondered if he should (like tradition probably demanded in such a place) make a declaration to it, reciting his male ancestors until four generations back, claim that he stood here on behalf of the emperor and challenge it to face him. Then he realize that his opponent probably spoke neither Japanese nor any other human language and that shouting at it would only give away his position. Shinji remembered one of the very few things his father had ever taught him - if your enemy gives you an opening, never hesitate to use it. This meshed well with his Academy teachings, which always emphazised to make the first blow, and to make the first blow hurt as much as possible.
And besides, he did not know his male ancestors four generations back anyway, which would have made the whole thing a lot less dramatic if he had attempted it.
Despite the fact that every one of Shinji's steps shook the ground, and despite the fact that every movement of the Evangelion was accompied by metal groaning and hydraulics hissing, his enemy seemed not to notice him. It kept looking over the desolate landscape it had created, perhaps wondering what it was doing here, or wondering what it had missed on it's search. Either way, when he was maybe 50 meters away from his opponent, Shinji decided to push the attack. He would ram the enemy with the left shoulder, send him tumbling to the ground, where he would skewer him with his spear.
Three fast steps brought him into striking distance, a turn to the right brought the left shoulder forward while the spear remained in the right to be used once the enemy had fallen. The crash came earlier than he had expected, the metal in the shoulder shield protesting against the punishment as he hurled the Evangelion onto the enemy to knock him down. To Shinjis shock, he did not even touch the giant, despite sounds to the contrary. A shining shield that seemed to be made of light kept him at a distance, and his attack did not trouble his enemy at all. Indeed, it did not even turn around to meet his attack, but instead decided that a ruined building at the other end of the former garden needed to be turned into even finer rubble.
Shinji took a step back to gain distance and then tried to stab the two pronged spear in the Evangelions right hand through the shield. To his surprise, it was not deflected but managed to push a little way into it. Where all the modern guns in Tokyo had failed, a weapon that had been outdated for over a century had not.
That did not mean he had hurt his opponent, because the spear was now stuck in the shield, and the metal in the right arm of the Evangelion groaned as he tried to force it through the enemy's defenses. Shifting his war machine slightly, Shinji grasped the spear with the left hand as well and thus doubled the strength behind its thrust. The struggle between spear and shield continued for a moment, then Shinji had forced the weapon through and impaled it into the back of his enemy. And in that moment, the monster screamed.
It was a scream unlike anything anyone in the city had ever heard, a scream of such anguish, a scream of such horror, a scream so full of indignation that such an affront to it's very being was even possible. This was not the scream of a wounded animal, it was the scream of an intelligent, sentinent being that could only bear the pain it felt by screaming. The scream shook the ground the two enemies were standing on, it crumbled walls and made Shinjis skull vibrate, until he thought he could no longer take it. Then it stopped. The wounded beast slumped forward, and for a moment Shinji thought that he had killed it.
But the monster was far from dead, though Shinji had wounded it with the only weapon in human hands that could hurt it. It twisted itself away from the offending weapon, ripping it out of its body in the process. Shinji took a step back again to wait for the enemy to complete his turn, and to make an attack against his front, perhaps his head or face (Shinji did not know if it had any of these features, since he had only seen it from behind). However, as the monster turned around he could see the area of its flesh where the spear had stuck twisting and bubbling, before smoothing over and leaving behind smooth green skin again. If it had not been for the black blood that clung to his spear and now dripped to the ground, Shinji would have had to assume that his attack had had the same impact as all the others made on the enemy, that is to say none at all.
For a moment, the dark green giant made of flesh and bones and the dark purple giant made of metal and human ingenuity regarded each other. Then the eyes of Shinjis opponent flashed, and had Shinji not managed to turn the the right and thus bring the wide sheat of armor mounted on the upper left arm of his machine forward in time, the beam that struck the Evangelion would have ripped its head (and Shinji inside it) clean off. As it was, a wave of heat washed through the cockpit, and when the attack ceased Shinji could see that the armor had melted and was now running down the arm to pool on the ground, together with something darker that Shinji hoped was hydraulic fluid (instead of, say, his own blood).
Rather than firing a second beam, which probably would have finished off the armor for good and left Shinji with precious few options except running for his life, his enemy decided to try something else. It's right arm lashed out and grabbed the Evangelion's helmet. Shinji could see the center of its palm glowing, and given the destruction all around them, thought that this was probably a bad sign. Rising his (and thus the Evangelion's) left hand, he hammered away at the arm. Just in time he managed to break it's hold and force it down towards the Evangelions chest. A beam of light shot out from the green monster's hand, punching straight through the thin armor covering the chest of the Evangelion. And now it was Shinji who screamed, as shrapnell flew around inside the cockpit, ripping through his uniform and digging into his legs.
Temporary Combat Headquarters, First Home Defense Fleet
Tokyo
June 15, 1915, early afternoon
To a casual oberservor, Gendo Ikari would have seemed completely unconcerned by the way the battle was progressing. Despite the fact that he had wagered victory, the survival of the Empire and the continued existence of the human species (the last fact was only known to a few other men in Japan) on the Evamgelion and his son, he appeared not too concerned with the fact that mankinds last hope had just been punched through the chest by a beam of light. Instead, he focused on another small, but incredibly more important detail.
A moment later, Ryouji identified it as well.
"How could he touch it? When he charged the monster the first time the shield blocked him, and now it is gone."
Gendo smirked.
"It appears that in order to touch something, our enemy has to give up his protection."
Ryouji smirked as well. "Only he who is willing to be killed can kill." The he frowned. "But why did it do that? Why did it not continue to use his ranged attack?"
To that, Gendo had several theories but no real answer. Maybe it lacked an idea of gradual damage and only understood a clean killing shot. Having seen it's attack fail, it decided to use another attack because the first had been useless, in the hopes that the second attack would kill its opponent. No, he thought, it had continued to fire on Haruna even after it had given her a glancing hit. Maybe it really enjoyed hitting things with its fist. Maybe it simply did not employ rational tactics and did whatever seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe it was just a particularly stupid example of its kind.
"It does not matter. Our enemy has made an opening, and that opening will be it's undoing."
He really wished he still had some asset to send against the Angel, but he was out of contact with the remains of the Imperial Guards Division, and the remains of the First Scouting Squadron would need at least an hour to make a turn around, even if he could order them to do so right now, which he couldn't. In hindsight, keeping a reserve for such a situation might have been a good idea, but then again, it had taken every asset he had to delay the enemy from reaching the palace grounds long enough for the Evangelion to deploy. He could not have known that the Angel would just stand around blowing up random objects.
Never a man to dwell on missed opportunities (especially when he could not possibly have forseen them), he returned his attention to the battle, where the enemy had taken hold of the Evangelion's head again and Shinji was trying to break it.
Imperial Palace,
Tokyo
June 15, 1915, early afternoon
Shinji knew he was in a bad tactical situation. He might be a relative newcomer to the subtle art of fighting inside metal giants, but he was not stupid. He had not managed to hurt his opponent (not permanently, anyway), yet in return he had been wounded by it's attack. It was not primarily the damage the Evangelion had suffered - Shinji had noticed no odd behaviour from the control harness - but the fact that he could feel the blood running down his legs, pooling in his shoes and dripping down into the Evangelion. That he could feel it, at least, meant that his legs were still relatively intact. Still, it had been a far too close call for his comfort.
The spear, Shinji thought, might be his greatest asset, but right now it was his greatest liability. He could not drop it, since he had very little confidence in the monster allowing him to pick it back up (and even less confidence in him being able to do so without falling over), and so he had only the Evangelion's left hand to defend against any attacks. That was something his enemy also seemed to have realized (thus disproving a good half of Gendo's ideas about why it acted like it did), because it had grabbed the arm that had kept it from delivering a killing blow and used its other hand to make a grab for the Evangelion's head.
He expected the hit that would end it all any second now. The left arm was straining against the monster's hold, but in the match between the best materials human ingenuiety could make, and bestial strength, the human's side was losing rapidly. His opponent gave the Evangelion's left arm a powerfull pull, and to Shinjis horror a mighty groan came from the machines left shoulder. Weakened by the blast at the begining of the fight, and then further damaged by the constant strain Shinji had been forced to inflict on it during the fight, the gears and hydraulics in the shoulder gave and suddenly, the monster was holding several tons of aluminium, steel, hydraulic cylinders and electric cables. The wires connecting Shinjis left arm to the body of the Evangelion went taunt, cutting deep into his flesh. Within a few moments, Shinji could no longer feel his arm, though a quick look revealed it was still there (something Shinji was very thankful for, since he had grown rather attached to it), even if it did start to show an unhealthy color.
Apparently confused that it had dismembered its enemy, but not sent it fleeing, the enemy did not fire the beam from its palm straight away, which allowed Shinji to make a desperate attack with his spear in the right hand again. Thrusting blindly, he nevertheless managed to pierce through the enemy's right shoulder. Once more the monster wailed, but this time it sounded less hurt and more angry, and as its palm started to glow, Shinji tried desperately to duck, but he was still stuck in the harness and could barely move unless he wanted to move the Evangelion. But due to the hold the enemy had on it, he could not move his war machine and had to stay where he was.
The beam shot over the face armor, which only guarded the lower half of the head and Shinjis body from the chest down, and with a desperate lunge to one side, he managed to get his head and upper body out of the way. The beam passed over his shoulder, perhaps 3 inches from his cheek. Then it exited from the back of the Evangelions head and would have made a mess of anyone occupying the rear cockpit. Still, it turned most of the rear seat into more shrapnell flying around in the Evangelions head, and with all the small metalic fragments riccochetting off the inside, Shinji was certain that he was done for. He could feel it hit him in the back, a fiery pain soon followed by the sensation of warm blood running down his back.
Seeing the palm shift slightly and starting to glow again, Shinji knew that it was over. The enemy had grabbed the head with his left hand as well (after throwing away the arm ripped off the Evangelion), holding it in place while it tried to deliver what would be the killing blow. And there was nothing he could do. He had lost his left arm, the Evangelion was fixed in place and he still had that damned...spear...in...
Shinji almost howled in anger over his own stupidity. But he grasped his chance first. He raised his right arm, which still held the spear, and like a wrench used to loosen a screw, the spear, it's head still stuck in the enemy's shoulder, rotated. It forced the arm to turn as well, until the monsters shoulder joint gave way. Shinji overextended it further, before ripping the spear clear of the ruined limb. Rather than firing a beam from it's left hand, the monster staggered back to look at it's twisted right arm, even it's astounishing healing powers not enough to heal the damage in time. Not that Shinji gave it time to heal.
Now Shinji that had licked blood, he experienced what Captain Ryouji would have called battle fever. The panic he felt only a moment ago was gone, replaced by white hot anger at the enemy. Shinji wanted revenge, and so he pressed home the attack with every ounce of strength he had. A step forward brought him closer to his opponent, but it had rallied and made a swipe for the spear, ripping it out of the Evangelion's hand and throwing it through the air. Somehow, the spear twisted in mid air, pointed straight down and buried itself into the ground, right down to the junction of it's two prongs, as soon as it had left the Evangelion's hand.
The immediate effect of this was that the battle was even again, both combatants down to one arm, with the monster worse for wear in that regard. But Shinji was heavily injured and his machine damaged. However, the initiative had gone to Shinji, and it was him who now dictated the fight. With a highly unprofessional roar he threw a punch at his opponents face (or what he assumed was its face. Not that he cared too much as long as he got to hit it where it hurt), making the green monstrosity stumble back again.
Shinji grabbed the hilt of the spear, gave it a mighty pull which sent the hydraulics in the Evangelion's remaining arm screaming again, and ripped it out of the ground.
What followed now gave little credit to the fight the two giants had fought on the palace grounds, and a late observer would probably wonder why the Evangelion looked so beat up, since it seemed to have fought a very weak foe. After retrieving the spear from its resting place, Shinji charged the enemy once more, his steps somewhat unsteady due to the injuries to his legs, making the Evangelion swing from side to side. His opponent fired a last desperate blast from his eyes, missing by meters (and burning a hilltop several kilometers away), then Shinji rammed his war machine against the green monster. No shield protected it this time, and the blow sent it crashing to the ground. Shinji put one of the Evangelion's feet on the monsters upper body to keep it down, then fixated on the rad orb set into the center of its chest.
Raising the spear high, and with all the force he and the Evangelion could muster, he drove the spear into the orb, split it in two and did not stop until he had embedded the spear fully into it's chest. The defeated foe raised his still functioning left arm towards the afternoon sun, still standing high above the field of battle (Shinji wisely made sure the arm was not pointing at the Evangelion), perhaps in a final attempt to kill its opponent, or perhaps as the last defying gesture of a dying man. Then the orb that held the spear shattered, and the arm fell back towards the earth. The monster that was called an Angel was finally dead, and humanity had killed it.
The battle was over, and as Shinji tried to turn the Evangelion towards its base to return, his body finally gave out.
Temporary Combat Headquarter, First Home Defense Fleet,
overlooking Tokyo
June 15, 1915, afternoon
Those that knew Gendo Ikari knew when he was truly shocked. The Rear Admiral was very good in hiding his surprise, and had cultivated a reputation that not only could nothing faze him, but that any event was completely expected, and indeed in accordance with his plans. A well known joke (which, for obvious reasons, was always told in hushed tones and only after the joker had made sure the rear admiral was nowhere near) went that Gendo Ikari could come across a set of identical octuplets juggling burning penguins on a Zepplin, and would still be able to convince everyone that this was exactly what he had expected and planned for. Therefore, when the Angel's beam attack ripped through the Evangelion's head, and the remains of the rear cockpit had been strewn across what used to be the palace gardens, people were very surprised that Rear Admiral Gendo Ikari, commanding officer of the First Home Defense Fleet, a man with at least half a dozend combat deployments, actually uttered the word "no".
That little word lost Gendo several months worth of building his reputation, but he did not care. For a brief moment - before the Evangelion started its counter attack - he believed that they had lost, and perhaps even worse, that his son had died. He was sparred the deliberation over which was in fact the worse result by the Evangelion's counter strike. The officers on the hill breathed a little easier when the Angel went to the ground, and a small cheer went up when the Evangelion rammed the lance through it's core.
People where then shocked again, when they saw Gendo Ikari (commanding officer, First Home Defense Fleet, etc. etc.) take off down the hill the moment the battle was over. Commodore Fuyutsuki and Captain Ryouji exchanged a glance, then the later went after the admiral, and the former went to organize a rescue and salvage team. And to inform the admirals wife, of course. Judging by the state of the Evangelion, she would have her hands full.
A/N: So ends the first chapter of NGE: A Century Apart. Any constructive criticism is more than welcome.