I'm posting it... in a few hours? Oh well, you still have plenty of time
to tell me how much it sucks.

----------

NARRATOR: IN THE LAST EPISODE, GERMANY BECAME A BATTLEFIELD. AS IN EVERY
OTHER BATTLE BEFORE IT, CONFUSION REIGNED SUPREME. HAVE OUR HEROES
GAINED RESPITE? IS THE OTHER SHOE ABOUT TO DROP?!

========================================================================

Warnings: Plot, interesting things happening
          Graphic violence, use of firearms, death and dismemberment
          Implied sex between mystical beings/monster/demons and humans
          Casual use of explicit language
          Present-tense descriptions

========================================================================

C&C, Flames, Anything, welcome at: rick_spiff@yahoo.com

Posted at Insanity Production's home page:
        http://www.geocities.com/rick_spiff/





~ Begin fic ~

[Opening Music is Metallica's 'Enter Sandman' played very loudly. A
montage of shots flash by to the bars of the song, mostly of the
Sidestep cast and various Eva characters dressed in kick-ass clothes
and shooting things out of frame. Splattered here and there among the
characters are various explosions for variety.]

[Music cuts out.]




[INT. ED'S WORKSHOP - DAY? NIGHT?]

[One of Ed's little spaces is a massive workshop with drab green walls
and a concrete floor. Empty wooden crates and cardboard boxes line the
walls, with several rolling tables spaced between the packaging. In the
middle of the otherwise empty floor, a huge amount of firepower and
high-tech equipment is carefully laid out so all items can be seen at a
glance. Near the entrance of the room, James and Ed sit on bare metal
stools, critically eying the spread.]

[In the very center of the equipment is what appears to be a well-made
black leather trench coat.]

Ed: I think it needs more grenades.

James: It's got twenty-eight grenades, Ed. It's fine. Well, some rope
would be nice...

Ed: We have room for rope. What about a second sword?

James: I'm not even sure the sword is a good idea. I mean, you guys are
trained, but a sword requires some above-the-norm skills.

Ed: They make a useful tools.

James: (snaps fingers in realization) That's it. Add some tools to the
sucker.

Ed: You'll have to be more specific.

James: (shrugs) Goggles, wire cutters, earplugs, pliers, wrenches, you
know... tools!

Ed: Yeah. A little tool kit shouldn't be a problem.

James: And get rid of one pair of the P90's. It'll give us more
maneuverability on the right side.

Ed: (clearly hesitant) Um...

James: (I'm-the-boss tone) Get rid of 'em.

Ed: (obedient) They're gone.

James: More knives.

Ed: ... You veto grenades but add knives? Madness!

James: No, madness is that world-ender you gave me for Germany.

Ed: Germany? I thought you were in Paris-2.

James: You don't get out much, do you?

Ed: Hold on a minute, there were Vampires in Germany?

James: No, I had to use it against... well, never mind that. It's not
useful for Vampires anyway. Too big, too slow. Those fuckers are _fast_.

Ed: (thoughtful) Hmm...

James: Give it a second Desert Eagle.

Ed: Does that have enough stopping power for... you know, supernatural
stuff?

James: Iffy. Did you get an M249 downsized yet?

Ed: Yes, but not in large numbers.

James: What's the problem?

Ed: Our composite fabrication sucks. We can't spare capacity to make
more than the testing models until Dave gets a larger machine in here.

James: (nodding in understanding) Well, you know the term we use for
when one fights a war without proper equipment.

Ed: 'Paying our electric bill?'

James: (frowns) Suicide.


----------

Title Flash:

Episode 10: A Second Chance Comes Only Once/
            Food, Drink, and Other Things to Avoid in Tokyo-3

----------


[EXT. TOKYO-3 STREET - EVENING.]

[An anonymous black sedan pulls up to a piece of unremarkable sidewalk.
The sun has only just dropped below the line of the horizon, leaving a
slight blue glow mostly obscured by the sodium yellow street light.
Inside the car, two very dangerous men are arguing over what to eat.]

Trey: No, dude. I'm tellin' you, they'll have something you can stomach.

John: It's not the edibada... edibola... edibadabo... edibulness...
edability? Look, it's whether or not it fills me up. I can stomach
enough native food, ok?

Trey: If you were so worried about eating, you should have had something
at home.

John: I _just_ got home. You implied we were going to a restaurant.
Ergo, rather than order out or cook, I changed into something clean.

Trey: (getting out of the car) They'll have something, I promise.

John: (also gets out) Well, I'm down the street if I don't like the
menu.

Trey: Fine.

John: Okay, I-- (sees the sign on the building Trey is about to enter)
Karaoke? You took me to a Karaoke bar?

[The building is a squat, two-story structure done in 'we were in a
hurry' concrete. A wide staircase wraps around the side of the building,
allowing access to the second floor without gracing the main entrance.
The sign predictably proclaims this establishment is both a karaoke
joint and a bar. A smaller sign, hung below the main affair, promises
food.]

Trey: Godai and Yuki said it was a decent place.

John: Who and who?

Trey: They work--

John: (winding up) You're trusting the taste of the natives?

Trey: (quickly) They're cops.

John: (shrugs, suddenly fine) Oh. Lead on, then.



[INT. KARAOKE BAR - EVENING.]

[The karaoke bar is pleasantly decorated with a bare wood and red carpet
motif. A standard bar runs down the long wall, with the bathrooms at the
rear. It is a sit-on-the-floor type of bar, which is common in Japan,
but never seen in America. A number of equally low tables are spread
about the room, about half full. The rear of the room is taken up
entirely by a massive sign and a normal-sized door. The sign lists the
menu items and prices, as well as rates for the karaoke rooms, which
apparently take up three floors. It's apparent at a glance that there's
no way to get to the second and third floors from inside, and so the
purpose of the stair case outside of the building is revealed.]

Trey: Speak of the devils.

[Trey waves to two men enjoying some tasty-looking ramen at the bar,
then leads John to them.]

Trey: John, this is Godai Kuno and Yuki Yamaguchi, from the Tokyo-3
Police Department.

Yuki: Nice to meet ya.

Godai: You work for Branch-X.

John: Yes.

Trey: I was just telling John that you guys fully endorsed the place.

John: (grinning) Now I know who to blame.

Godai: Well, the food is surprisingly good, the drinks aren't pig piss
and the entertainment usually isn't bad.

Yuki: (apologetically) I'm a terrible singer.

Trey: We'll find out for sure soon. So, John, you ordering?

John: I'll try the food, but I'm not going to sing karaoke.

Trey: Hey, when in Rome...

John: We aren't in Rome, and I'm not singing.



[INT. PRIVATE KARAOKE LOUNGE - NIGHT.]

[John sets before a massive plate of vegetables, an empty ramen bowl
beside it. Godai and Yuki are belting out a recent J-pop hit without a
shred of embarrassment or dignity. Trey is checking the song selection
with one eye, and watching the police with the other. As the duo come to
a roaring finish, the two Branch-X agent get to their feet and cheer on
the cops. After the foursome settle down a bit...]

Yuki: So, what's next?

[John reaches for the song list, which Trey slaps his hand over
protectively.]

Trey: I've picked.

John: You picked something gross. I'm not singing.

Trey: (ready to bet his life on this) You're singing.

[John folds his arms over his chest and huffs.]

John: (to Godai) How'd you meet this bastard, anyway?

Godai: James Rahn is our contact for supernatural matters. He was
working on a case with us, and had us work with Trey while he was out of
town.

John: (to himself) Oh yeah, that was while I was out of the country.

Yuki: Business or pleasure?

John: Business.

Yuki: Question. UN-SSI related?

John: No, NERV stuff. (pause) I haven't heard much about this UN-SSI
initiative. What did you hear about it?

Yuki: Not much. I understand the guy they picked to head it is some kind
of war hero. Big guy in Old London.

John: I hadn't heard that, just rumors that our division is supposed to
be a liaison between them and NERV, as well as Tokyo-3.

Godai: Basically what you're doing now.

Trey: Yeah, and hopefully we won't be buried in a mountain of paperwork
after everything is said and done.

Godai: (raising a fresh beer) Here, here! More help from you guys would
be welcome!

[Drinks are downed. John waits a respectable moment before asking the
one question burning in his mind.]

John: What did James help you out with?

Yuki: (clearly a little tipsy) Nasty serial killer case. We haven't
caught anyone, but James gave us a call just... was it yesterday?

Godai: (nodding) It was yesterday.

Yuki: Yesterday. He said the problem was demons. Apparently they were
breaking some rules back home in addition to mortal law here and the
'king of the realm' or something was going to turn their internal organs
into wall decorations.

John: (shrugging) Wouldn't be the first time he chose to fight fire with
fire.

Yuki: You don't understand, we found no evidence at all. NOTHING! Body
parts and blood, that was it. No weapon, no trace of any people in the
vicinity but the victims...

Godai: (nodding in agreement) James really took it in stride. Says he
deals with it all the time. Is that a NERV thing, or is he ex-military?

John: He... (exchanges a look with Trey) You could say he worked with
the military.

Godai: (to Trey, but pointing at John) He isn't any more helpful than
you were.

[Trey shrugs and hands John the song list.]

Trey: One forty-three. (to the cops) Less talk, more bad singing.

[The cops grin. John sees the song and polishes off his drink. After a
hearty belch, he and Trey grab the mikes. The rest of the evening
becomes a haze of alcohol and painfully bad renditions of the top
forty.]



[INT. DARK ROOM IN NERV - NIGHT.]

[Trishka Bolverez sits hunched over a keyboard, her face illuminated by
the glow of the flat panel monitor before her. Endless letter sequences
scroll up the screen while she watches a counter at the bottom report a
series of numbers to her. She sighs and stretches in her chair, nearly
bumping into the room's other occupant.]

[Ikazuchi Hiranabe sits in another of the room's chairs, working at
another terminal. He is short, even by Japanese standards, and looks to
be in his late thirties. His hair is frosted with blond streaks and is
styled so that it seems to float over his head. He wears five rings
across his hands, and three ear rings.]

Ikazuchi: Is your vision going?

Trishka: Almost.

Ikazuchi: (stops working to rub his eyes) Mine certainly is.

Trishka: (staring at the ceiling) How long have we been at this?

Ikazuchi: (consulting his watch) Nine hours and counting.

Trishka: Theories?

Ikazuchi: We will be thwarted by either genius or madness, like I said
nine hours ago.

[Both resume looking at their monitors, but without reaching for the
computer controls. Through some unseen signal, Trishka rises stiffly to
her feet and turns on the room's lights, while Ikazuchi spins in place,
stretching out his legs. The room is small, with three walls lined by
second-hand tables. Next to the door, steel shelves hold a number of
computers. Conspicuously, there is no communications lines connected to
these machines, indeed, there are none in the room. Two chairs are
shoved up against the table on the far wall, with Ikazuchi and Trishka's
seats nearest the door before the two large workstations on opposing
tables.]

Trishka: I need a minute to rest. What do you know about Akagi? She's a
mystery to me, vashka.

[Ikazuchi laces his fingers behind his head and contemplates the
ceiling, blowing out a huge breath.]

Ikazuchi: A bitchy redhead. Naoko's certain of her own success, whether
or not it's real. Sometimes I've wondered if her accomplishments are all
in her head.

Trishka: If that were the case, she wouldn't be here.

Ikazuchi: No, she wouldn't. She's secretive, but I guess she has to be.
She's been banging the head of NERV.

Trishka: What? Mr. Ikari...

Ikazuchi: Oh yes. His wife's been dead for three years; it's about time
he made a move on someone.

Trishka: But isn't that a conflict of interest or something? No
consorting with co-workers.

Ikazuchi: Ever hear of the Golden Rule?

[Trishka frowns deeply.]

Ikazuchi: As long as he isn't caught and doesn't screw up, he can get
away with it. Fuyutsuki's expressed his... concerns, but when Ikari
doesn't want to listen, he doesn't want to listen. And then there's how
his wife died. I know no one blames him for more than himself, but
still, why'd he let it happen? He was supposed to check the safety
protocols...

Trishka: (just realizes something) From what we've uncovered, that
_shouldn't_ have happened. Ikari wasn't suited to checking the safety
protocols. If he did, he was out of his depth.

Ikazuchi: It was his wife in the experiment.

Trishka: Then that's all the more reason to get a second opinion. You
know, I don't think anyone else even glanced at that paperwork. What
if... what if he was trying to hide something?

Ikazuchi: (deep in thought) Perhaps he was told to perform the
experiment on time, even if everything wasn't checked as thoroughly as
it should have been?

Trishka: And he'd be kicking himself for losing her over something so
trivial.

Ikazuchi: That doesn't make sense. Why continue to be the head of NERV
if this work cost him his family?

Trishka: He didn't wan to see this kind of thing happen again?

Ikazuchi: But he may have engineered the experiment's failure in the
first place.

[Both muse over this for a few seconds.]

Trishka: And he had a son.

Ikazuchi: Went to an uncle or something.

Trishka: But he stayed here. He stayed, because he had something to do.

Ikazuchi: ... And that must be the secret hidden in Project E.

Trishka: Damn that Ikari. Damn Naoko. I wish I knew what was going on
here.

Ikazuchi: We can say for certain that Project E is hiding a lot of
things. Ikari is hiding a lot of information, and we need to find out
what it is.

Trishka: That's true, vashka.

[The two scientists look very worried now, and Trishka sits down at her
terminal.]

Ikazuchi: (getting back to work at his workstation) This worries me a
bit.

Trishka: What does?

Ikazuchi: We're _in_ NERV, with _their_ stolen data, but we're actually
spying on them?

Trishka: (smirking, and back to work) And working for them. Can't forget
that.

Ikazuchi: Oh yeah, I forgot.

[Fade out.]



[INT. HOTEL ROOM - AFTERNOON.]

[Coltrane Heavy Industries might be a business, but they know when and
where the penny-pinching must end. Jack and Miko are on the receiving
end of some uncommon generosity with their hotel room. Burgundy
curtains, thick blue carpet, and actual wood trim. The place is almost
the size of James' apartments back in Tokyo-3 (any of them, but not all
added together). The westward-facing windows have the blinds drawn and
the lights are on low. Crimson light from the unseen sunset illuminates
most of the room.]

Miko: (turning on the television) So, what do you think?

Jack: (turns the volume up, sips his tea) I think we're very lucky.
Those agents saved our necks, I think.

Miko: (faraway look in her eyes) Yeah, that was nice of them.

Jack: Well, Coltrane wants to meet with me later. He promised to explain
things...

Miko: Are you afraid of what he'll show you?

Jack: Yes and no. I mean, you know it's bad, but me, I'm not so sure.
The government did a lot of things after SI that sounded good to them.
Maybe Coltrane's just doing something that will piss them off.

Miko: Could be.

[Jack looks surprised that she's easily accepting this notion.]

Jack: And... well, if it's dangerous; if it's going to hurt someone; if
he's out to be a big villain, I've no qualms about shutting down his
operation.

Miko: (fixing Jack with a stare) No qualms?

Jack: (returns the stare) No. None at all.

Miko: When the time comes...

Jack: I know. (looks nervously at the phone) We'll find out tomorrow...

[But we will have to wait for tomorrow to find out what Jack's talking
about.]



[INT. PARTIALLY-CONSTRUCTED ROOM - NIGHT.]

[ {describe room.} The work crews are gone for the day, but three men
remains here, holding a most secret of secret meetings in one of the few
places they know is impervious to eavesdropping.]

Coltrane: So, how's the progress on the holographics?

Man #1: We're about ninety percent finished on the detailed design.
Probably another two weeks and we'll be ready to wrap it up. I'd say
about four weeks before we can turn on the first unit.

Man #2: Everything else is on schedule. The secondary wall paneling is
in the marshaling yard and will installed tomorrow, leaving room for the
additional electronics, of course.

Coltrane: I'd prefer to hold off until we're certain the design won't
change. Can you push back the installation a week?

Man #2: We've got plenty to do, so yeah, that'd be no problem.

Man #1: I think the organization is really going to like this room. It's
a shame we won't get to see it after it's done.

Coltrane: That's the cost of doing business with these people.
Thankfully, we came to an... amicable deal.

[Coltrane smiles in a most disturbing fashion.]

Man #1: How's the other project going, sir?

Coltrane: I'll be meeting with Jack tomorrow to reveal our plan to him.
I think he'll have no problem with joining us, and if not, Leon will
have a little extra duty to do.

Man #1: Sounds like everything's in order.

Coltrane: It is. Knock on wood, it is.

[Fade out.]



[INT. ORBITAL WEAPONS PLATFORM CONSTRUCTION AREA - DAY.]

[Jack Carlson and Maxim Coltrane stand in a stuffy room filled with
tables and filing cabinets, the later full and the former overwhelmed
with drawings. One wall is a Plexiglas window. Jack stands before it,
trying his best to appear just surprised, rather than enraged and
surprised. On the other side is a trio of white cones. Big white cones.
The kind you attack to gigantic rockets and shoot into orbit with
taxpayer dollars.]

Jack: What are they, sir?

Maxim: Call me Maxim.

Jack: Okay.

[Maxim steps up to the glass and looks at the cones almost lovingly. A
moment of perfect silence passes.]

Maxim: Protection, Jack.

Jack: Protection from what?

Maxim: Jack, the world is not a perfect place. You know this. You've
lived this... fundamental truth. Philosophers have stated that man faces
three enemies. (ticks off on his fingers) His environment, his fellow
man, and himself. Short of building a weather-controlling machine, we
have about as much protection from our environment as possible. We can
build buildings to resist virtually anything our planet or the flora and
fauna that inhabit it can throw at us. We are protected from our
environment. Next is ourselves. A man can defeat himself, but mankind
cannot defeat himself. Mankind is engineered to survive, Jack. If all
else fails, we will fight on. But... there is a very big but here that
leads to mankind's last and greatest enemy... our fellow man. What if
someone pushes the big red button? What if someone makes a doomsday
mistake and wipes out humanity?

Jack: We'd all be dead, I suppose.

Maxim: (deadpan) Cute. What if it wasn't a mistake.

Jack: ...

Maxim: Jack, what if someone went out and killed all the people he
didn't like.

Jack: He wouldn't succeed.

Maxim: It's hypothetical. What if he did?

Jack: He'd kill everyone eventually.

Maxim: Explain.

Jack: Simple logic. Once he's killed everyone he doesn't like, the
people that used to like him are very likely to change their minds, so
they must die. Now that he's turning on people he used to call friends,
his other friends would turn away from him. He would hate the people
that spurned him, and so the killing would continue until either the
people that were left were nice to him out of sheer, mind-numbing fear,
or he kills everyone.

Maxim: Bleak. And correct. See how easily mankind is able to turn on
itself? Look at World War Three. Look at every war humanity has started!
Now, under the best of conditions, we're all just a heartbeat from
annihilation. But look at the conditions we're under now!

Jack: ...

Maxim: Too many dangerous people prowl the world. Demons walk the earth!
Vampires are kidnapping and murdering people in France! The government
is powerless to do anything!

Jack: ...

Maxim: But, there is a solution.

Jack: There is?

Maxim: Yes Jack, there is a solution. A perfect solution that we've
known of all along. What we lacked, what we needed, was the right
combination of courage and ability.

Jack: (thinking) He's talking about my ability.

Maxim: Your ability, Jack.

Jack: (thinking) Called it.

Maxim: My courage.

Jack: Courage do what, Maxim?

Maxim: Put the fear of God back in the populace.

Jack: ... How?

[Coltrane gestures to the three cones.]

Maxim: THERE. Out there is a modular control deck and an orbital weapons
platform the likes of which the world has never seen. Your ability, my
courage. We built it Jack, and I'm going to show you how to use it.

Jack: To put the fear of God in people?

Maxim: That's right. It's simple, really. While humanity is doing a good
job of rebuilding, the governments of the world remain largely
unchanged. Fighting--at all levels--between countries continues to rage.
Money, supplies, and military power never go where they're needed or do
what they're supposed to. You know why?

Jack: Beyond 'people are stupid?'

Maxim: Actually, you nailed it. People are stupid. People that lead
their proud little nations around like a self-sufficient ship on an
empty, lonely see. Humanity shares this planet, Jack. It's ours. The
land does not belong to a bunch of politicians and negotiators and
generals. It belongs to everyone, and it needs to be shared. Resources
need to be shared.

Jack: (catching on) The government's won't listen to reason, will they?

Maxim: Of course not! We're engineers, Jack. _We build the world_. Now
it's time to protect that which we have built.

Jack: ...

Maxim: We must make the governments get along.

Jack: The fear of God.

Maxim: They obey, or they cease to exist. You see, I'm a practical man,
Jack. I know that I can't get everyone to agree, but there's a lot I can
do to improve the situation. This weapons platform will give them a
_reason_ to focus. I will give them a reason to do good!

Jack: (thinking) He's completely nuts. (out loud) Wouldn't that mean
making yourself a villain?

Maxim: (looks at Jack for a second before bursting into laughter)
What... haven't you been listening to me? (serious) When do people unite,
Jack? When?

Jack: When they have to band together to survive?

Maxim: (bellowing) Exactly! With this weapon I will be able to threaten
the WORLD, and the WORLD WILL FIGHT BACK!

Jack: (thinking) Squirrel convention. (out loud) And you wanted me...

Maxim: (solemn) Jack. I didn't really want you to get involved, but look
at the mess you and Miko landed in. Government assassins, secret agents,
shootouts in a tourist location. And for what? To get rid of a security
detail watching your back? Do you want to live in that world, Jack?

Jack: (thinking) He's going to ask me to come with him, and he's going
to kill me if I don't. Oh God I hate my life sometimes. I swear, if I
survive this... (out loud) No, Maxim. No I don't. I've seen what the
world can do to people. I've seen what people can do to people. I
understand why you're doing this, s--Maxim.

Maxim: I knew you were a good man. Now, on to practical matters?

Jack: (shrugs) ...

Maxim: This is a suicide mission. This task of mine, whoever embarks
upon it with me, has thrown away their lives here. Are you willing to do
that Jack. Does the safety of our fellow man matter that much to you
too?

[For Jack, the answer is forgone, but he stalls and pretends to consider
the implications of Maxim's offer.]

Maxim: (sets a hand on Jack's shoulder) You can take your time deciding,
Jack.

Jack: (settling the matter in his mind) I don't need any more time,
Maxim. I'll come with you. I'll do whatever it takes.

Maxim: Excellent. Now, to deal with Miko.

Jack: She's coming.

Maxim: She is?

Jack: Miko is silk and steel. She's compassionate but spirited. Trust
me, she'd jump on this in a heartbeat. We... we have a kind of common
ground here.

Maxim: That's perfect Jack, perfect.



[INT. POSH HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT.]

[Jack and Miko sit at the tiny 'bar' in their hotel room. Each has an
untouched beer sitting before them. The stereo is on this time, the
volume level high enough that a casual eavesdropper would hear nothing.
As practically no amount of noise would fool top-of-the-line equipment,
the music isn't even up to annoying levels, let alone deafening ones.]

Miko: That's it, huh?

Jack: (still in shock) Yeah.

Miko: I don't believe this. It's like a bad action movie.

[Jack spares the girl a sideways glance, then returns to staring at his
beer.]

Jack: Are you going to... you know, call home base or something?

Miko: (looking up) Hmm? Yes, I'll file a report as usual. But this... do
you think he really intends to use it?

Jack: Miko, I don't think that's really the point. It's like pointing a
gun at a group of squabbling kids. Someone's going to get hurt. (holds
his head in his hands) A lot of someones.

Miko: Well, we have to stop him. We will.

Jack: ... Thank you.

Miko: No, thank you. (pause) Jack, I have a question for you.

Jack: Go ahead.

Miko: Don't be offended, please.

Jack: (looks at her) I won't be.

Miko: How did you not know your work was being used to build something
like this?

Jack: They gave me a false computer model, of a building that doesn't
exists. My boss said it was supposed to be a new type of architecture, a
homage to the astronauts lost after SI...

Miko: (now angry) How _dare_ he dirty their memories like that! How...
how DARE he! People died! BILLIONS! And he's just--

Jack: Mocking them and reveling in his own power.

[Something about the dead way that Jack says those words causes Miko to
snap out of her little rant and focus on the old engineer who has slowly
become a close friend.]

Miko: Jack?

Jack: (faces her with tears in his eyes) I want to kill him. Oh God... I
want to just _kill_ him...

[Miko slips off her stool and wraps the big man up in a motherly
embrace.]

Miko: It's okay, it's okay... you just keep leading him on. Leave the
killing to someone else. Maxim Coltrane will be dealt with, you
understand me?

[Jack manages to straighten up and wipe some of the tears from his face.
Shaking, he grabs his beer and sits on the bed.]

Jack: (sighing deeply) I understand.

[Miko, her face written with cold fury, reaches for the nearest phone to
get the ball rolling. Just because she can't make a full report right
now doesn't mean she can't give Branch-X some advance warning.]



[INT. BRANCH-X CONFERENCE ROOM, NERV - DAY?]

[Most of Branch-X sits around a large metal conference table. The lights
are low, but not enough to cause eye strain. Thin reports sit before
each person, untouched for now. Dave, at the head of the table, stands.]

Dave: I'm glad to see we have a good turn out. Carrie, welcome home.

[From her seat, Carrie nods tiredly. She looked like she's walked across
Japan without stopping to sleep in order to arrive at this meeting.
Trey, noting the baggage under her eyes, holds up a pillow. Carrie slaps
him.]

James: Damn it, that was my gag!

Dave: Children! Look, we've got a serious problem here.

John: (playful) Okay, what's the deal?

Dave: Maxim Coltrane is in possession of an orbital weapons platform
nearly as powerful as the Legacy.

[Dead silence.]

Dave: (smugly) I should have started the meeting with that.

James: This is unacceptable! We can't have some unhinged lunatic
controlling a war-ending orbital weapons platform!

Lisa: You mean besides us?

James: Well, yes, of course besides us.

Ed: Why don't we use the Legacy to shoot it down?

Dave: Three reasons. We have no means of adequately tracking it. It's
possible to try, but our chances of success are less than one percent.
Two, the precision control required to actually have the Legacy hit it
is impossible to muster up. Hitting immobile ground targets? Sure.
Mobile defended weapons platforms, no. Third, the lateral firing
mechanism quit working four years ago.

Trey: I thought the Legacy had its own defensive system. Why can't we
use that against this other platform?

Dave: That's reason number one, Trey.

Trey: Shit.

Sherridan: (voicing everyone's chief thought at the moment) We're going
into space, aren't we?

Dave: Coltrane could literally launch any time, we're cut off from our
field agent--

James: And we don't have a way of shooting him down without knowing
where he's launching from in the first place.

Sherridan: Space it is.

Dave: Now, if anyone had experience in exo-atmospheric operations, that
would be grand. Otherwise, I'll need to pilfer through my...

[Dave's eyes alight on Carrie, who holds her hand in the air like a good
school girl.]

Carrie: (puts down her hand) I've been to space and trained for
space-based combat.

Dave: Can I ask for details?

Carrie: Ask away, for all the good it'll do ya. I don't kiss and tell.

James: (wipes his brow) Phew! I'm saved!

[Carrie's tired visage is unshaken. Sherridan, John, and Trey exchange
raised eyebrows and several wads of cash.]

Carrie: Dave, James, you'll accompany me.

James: Wha? How's that work?

Dave: We're the most experienced in Nothing Rahn techniques and the most
physically trained. Besides, you're the all-around trouble-shooter than
no-one will miss, and I'm not often seen in the outside world. At least,
not as myself.

Carrie: Actually, I know you two will take the most punishment without
bitching.

James: I sense this going to be a rather difficult mission.

Dave: (getting to his feet) C'mon James, you always wanted to save the
world.

James: (also getting to his feet) That raises a question: why?

Dave: Oh, you know... the usual.

James: Fuck.

Dave: Meeting adjourned. I'll have new schedules out to everyone by
tomorrow. Sherridan, your wife?

Sherridan: En route. I'll let her know the details.

Dave: Excellent.

[The others rise. Carrie sways a bit as she stands and yawns hugely
before joining James and Dave in exiting the conference room. As they
pass through the doors, a dramatic wind seems to ruffle their trench
coats.]

[Fade to black.]




[Cue Metallica's "Better Than You" faintly in the background as the
narrator's deep, booming voice speaks over the scenes.]

Narrator: NEXT TIME, ON SIDESTEP:EVANGELION!

[Miko stands on a metal platform, clad in a gray flight suit with silver
piping. The platform is nestled in the crook of a massive canyon, next
to a rocket.]

Narrator: THE BATTLE MOVES TO SPACE!

[Dave's office. James whips out a huge sword and cuts Dave's desk in
half, then offers the sword to the commander of Branch-X like a samurai
offering his weapon to his lord.]

Narrator: VOWS ARE TAKEN!

[James and Dave sit in a briefing room, while Carrie stands before them,
delivering a lecture.]

Narrator: PREPARATIONS ARE MADE!

[Sherridan and John stand in a anonymous parking lot. Anonymous except
for two things: A house-sized dump truck and pieces of a Saturn-5 rocket
laying nearby.]

Narrator: AND... LOOK! SOMETHING CUTE!

[Kat stands dumbfounded in the center of an isle of cubicles, holding a
tiny white ball of fur barely distinguishable as a cat, petting it
slowly while she watches James leave the cubicle farm.]

Narrator: ALL IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF SIDESTEP:EVANGELION!



                           [Ending credits:]

Ranting, Sidestep, lots of other stuff:
      Jared Waddell, HQ

Consulting:
      Insanity Productions Staff
      FFML

Remarks:
      John Genoni, Wayward Gamer

Absolutely Nothing:
      Andy Mucha, Lost Soul

Miko Mido, the Shikima, and those with tentacles (usually) are from 'La
Blue Girl.'

Tokyo-3 and all things and characters present regarding Eva are from
Neon Genesis: Evangelion.

No copyright infringement is intended. This work is copyrighted but
non-profit. Perhaps in the vein of a bizarre parody, but I'm guessing
not.

All other characters, unless noted, are copyright Insanity Productions.

Original characters created by Insanity Productions may be used in freely
in other non-profit works, without the author's prior assent (you can
get it, but you don't have to).

And thank you, the reader, for reading.

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