Neon Defender Evangelion
by Sean Newton (seannewton@geocities.com)
See Introduction for Copyrights and Disclaimers
<<Opening Theme: "The Cruel Angel", Neon Genesis
Evangelion >>
Episode One: Casualties of War
United Nations Ship Valiant, Earth Orbit
7 June 2015, 0132 hours fleet standard time
<<"Top Gun Anthem", Harold Faltermeyer & Steve
Stevens, _Top Gun Soundtrack_>>
From the outside, the starship Valiant resembled nothing
more than a wedge attached to a disc attached to a box.
The strange shape could be accounted for by the technology
supporting Valiant's mission. The forward, wedge-like
section contained the deceleration thrusters, as well as the
mechanisms of the launch catapult for the fighters. The
middle, disc-shaped section housed the bulk of the sensory
systems, mounted to the outboard hull, port and starboard.
The command tower was mounted atop the middle section.
In the aftmost, box-like section were the living quarters,
fighter and shuttle hangars, troop barracks, and reactors. A
pair of engines were attached, flanking the aft section, while
from the rear of the box section protruded a small platform
that was part of the fighter recovery system. A quartet of
particle beam cannon turrets were mounted, as were the
twenty less-powerful point-defense laser turrets. Finally,
the hull had been painted in a somewhat garish red and
green. All in all, though, the ship looked much like what it
was: a capable, clean, modern space vessel, ready for action.
"Captain Rogers, sensors are picking up something
unusual, sir," Lieutenant(senior grade) Claudia Grant
reported from the sensory station.
Matthew Rogers, commanding officer of the Valiant, rose
from his command chair and took the two long strides
needed to bring him to the sensory station. "Specifics,
Lieutenant Grant?" he asked, leaning over her shoulder to
view the sensor data as it came in.
Claudia's slender fingers flew over her station's keyboard.
"Object is of indeterminate origin. Astrogation computers
put its trajectory as being ideal for landing on or colliding
with Earth." She frowned, tapping in a key sequence to
begin an attempt to match the object with anything in the
computer's databanks.
Matthew took a sip from his coffee mug. "Point and time
of impact?" he queried.
Claudia ran a quick calculation through the computer,
frowning as the answer came back. "Estimate impact
thirty-five kilometers north-northwest of Tokyo-3," she
answered. "Time of impact: 1750 hours fleet standard
time."
Matt raised an eyebrow. "Interesting, Lieutenant." He
turned towards the front of the bridge, where the helm,
astrogation, and tactical stations were located.
"Commander Schultz, are we in a position to intercept?"
Andrew Schultz, ship's astrogator, ran the figures through
the computer. "It's a close one, sir, and we're the only ship
that can even come close, but yes, we can intercept."
"Thank you, Commander." Matthew strode back to his
command chair and took a final sip of coffee before
securing the mug.
<< "Battlestations", _Robotech Perfect Soundtrack Album_
"Listen up, people. We're all that's preventing that thing
from reaching Earth. And we are going to stop it. We are
now at battlestations. Astrogation, plot an intercept course.
Tactical, warn the fighter squadron they're about to earn
their keep, then prep the Valiant for battle. Helm, stand-by
to set a new course at flank speed. Communications,
contact Admiral Hayes and inform him that we have have
sighted the enemy and are on course to intercept."
"Astrogation, aye. Beginning course plot now."
"Tactical, aye."
"Helm, aye."
"Communications, aye."
Matt sat back in his command chair, then thumbed on the
all-call. "Attention, all personnel. Our sensors have
detected an object of indeterminate origin, currently on a
trajectory that will result in its impact with the Earth. We
are about to begin maneuvers to intercept." He paused a
moment, watching as Schultz's proposed course appeared
on-screen. "Valiant will be in weapons range in two hours,
but we will be launching fighters to intercept at about thirty
minutes out. Earth is counting on you. Good luck,
people."
* * *
United Nations Building, New York City
Chambers of the United Nations Security Council
7 June 2015, 0151 hours fleet standard time
The normally closed doors of the Security Council
chambers flew open as Admiral Henry Gloval stormed into
the chambers. "Ambassadors, I apologize for this
disruption, but we have just received word from the starship
Valiant that an object has been detected on a trajectory that
will impact Japan," the Russion officer stated without
preamble, causing a hush through the room. As head of the
Planetary Defense Forces, it was his duty to deliver this
message personally. "Captain Rogers, the commanding
officer of the Valiant, has informed us that he will be
attempting to intercept. I am hereby formally requesting
permission to move the Planetary Defense Forces to
Condition Red and execute Variant Three of the Cairo
Protocol, pursuant to Planetary Security Directive Five," he
said hurriedly, and all hell broke loose.
Chairing the session, the American ambassador,
MacBride, called the chamber to order. "All representatives
present are directed to vote on this request with all due
haste," he instructed, following the procedures of Planetary
Security Directive Five. The procedures set forth to cover
an alien attack against the Earth. Three minutes later, the
representatives were done. "Admiral, the Security Council
of the United Nations has voted to grant you permission to
move all forces to Condition Red and execute Variant Three
of the Cairo Protocol." With those words, the full military
of the Planetary Defense Forces would be brought to bear.
It fell just a few steps short of total planetwide mobilization.
* * *
United Nations Ship Valiant, Earth Orbit
7 June 2015, 0256 hours fleet standard time
"Incoming signal on Fleet Comm Channel Alpha,"
Lieutenant(junior grade) Christina Leeds reported, and the
bridge crew fell nearly silent in surprise. Fleet Comm
Channel Alpha was a high-security, encrypted channel
reserved for use by Space Fleet Command. Only
information of the highest priority, relating directly to
planetary security, was transmitted over that channel. And
the signal they were receiving was the first time that channel
had ever been used, other than during testing. "Shall I place
it on-screen, Captain Rogers?" she asked.
Matt nodded. "Yes, please, Lieutenant." The
transmission was just what he'd needed to break the building
tension on the bridge. He tapped his armrest earnestly,
waiting for the message to appear. He did not have long to
wait, but the message he watched quickly brought the
tension back to the bridge, at a higher level than before.
Admiral Henry Gloval, the Commander-In-Chief of the
Planetary Defense Force, appeared on the screen. "To all
PDF units, this is CINCFORCE. The following is to be
considered a formal war warning. At 0135 hours Universal
Time, an object of indeterminate origin was detected by the
UNS Valiant. Readings indicated that it was not a
naturally-occurring object, and astrogational calculations
revealed that its trajectory would cause it to impact the
Earth. Accordingly, the captain of Valiant has placed his
vessel on an intercept course, and sent a communication to
PDF Command. The Security Council was informed, and I
received formal orders to implement Variant Three of the
Cairo Protocol. As of now, all PDF units are to set status
to Condition Red. All leaves are cancelled. All reserve
personnel are recalled to active duty. Further, the national
militaries have all been placed on alert, but remain under the
control of their respective nations. The Valiant is expected
to intercept the object within the next forty-five minutes.
To his officers and crew, I wish them good luck and
godspeed. Gloval, out."
"Oh, shit," an enlisted rating sensor tech beside Claudia
commented.
"None of that," Matt Rogers said. "We've got a job to do,
and we will do it. Astrogation, time to intercept?" he asked,
his voice calmer as he returned to the business of running
his ship.
"Thirty-five minutes to intercept," Andrew Schultz
reported.
The bridge rattled, Matt noted with detachment, as he
gripped the arms of the command chair. "Acknowledged.
Tactical, stand-by to commence fighter launch. Sensory,
status of Target Alpha?"
"Status unchange, sir. Trajectory has not altered,"
Claudia Grant reported.
Matt stroked his chin. "Very well. This is it." He flipped
the all-call active. "Attention, all personnel. We're about
thrity minutes away from our target now. Our fighter
squadron is already preparing to launch. Before we go into
combat, though, I'd just like to express my confidence in all
of you. The world is counting on us, and we won't fail it.
Good luck, people. Ghost Squadron, good hunting out
there." He flipped off the all-call. "Tactical, commence
fighter launch on my mark."
Lieutenant Commander Lauren Nakashima, tactical
officer of the starship Valiant, was about to become real
busy. "Aye, aye, sir." The ships weapons were ready, and
the fighters were prepped. The Close-In Weapon System
turrets were at stand-by, while the
particle beam turrets were armed and live. Down in the
hangar bay, the fighters had live missiles under on their
hardpoints, and the first of them were already being moved
up to the launch bay just aft of the electro-magenetic
accelerator catapult system. All that remained was to
deploy the fighters and move in to engage the enemy.
Telling ehr when to do so was the captain's job.
"One minute, Commander." Rogers rubbed his hands
together nervously. This was really it. People's lives would
be changes by what he was about to do or not do, and how
he went about doing it. He took a deep breath and looked
up at the clock above the main screen. "Thirty seconds."
The twelve fighters of Commander Roy Fokker's Ghost
Squadron would engage the object first. That made Matt
feel guilty. Nothing he could do about that, though. "Ten
seconds, Tactical. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark."
"Commencing fighter launch, sir," Lauren reported.
"Ghost-One away."
She was quite correct, Matt Rogers noted, watching on
the screen as the first of the fighters shot forth down the
catapult. It would take two minutes to complete the launch
of all twelve. He watched them leave just the same. The
SF-1C Starfighter III was the Fleet's front-line fighter, the
third version since the original SF-1A entered service in
2009. In the time since, the wedge-liked craft had earned a
deserved reputation as agile and lethal. Armed with lasers
and capable of carrying up to eight missiles, the fighters
were about to be used for their true purpose for the first
time. Matt crossed his fingers, hoping they'd be able to
fulfil that purpose.
* * *
Ghost Squadron, enroute from UNS Valiant to Target
7 June 2015, 0308 hours fleet standard time
<< "Roy Fokker's Theme", _Robotech Perfect Soundtrack
Album_ >>
The pilot of the third fighter out tapped the portside
comm screen, and the image of his wingmate appeared. "I
wonder what the kids are doing?" Stephen Hunter said
aloud over Ghost Squadron's tactical communications
network to his wife.
Jennifer laughed. "Probably watching TV," she
commented, winking at her husband.
Another face appeared on the starboard comm screens of
both fighters within a second of that remark. It was the face
of Roy Fokker, their squadron commander. "Okay, you
two lovebirds, cut the chatter," he ordered. "You can talk
about your delightful children sometime when we're not
going up against god-knows-what," he said gently. "Ghost
Squadron, form up by flights."
That ended that, Stephen realized. Oh well. he checked
out his fighter, quadruple-checking that everything was
doing what it was supposed to do. Reactor nominal.
Thrusters on standby. Lasers charged. Missile prepped.
Sensors operational. Comm functional. In short, the fighter
he was piloting was ready for battle. All he had to do was
get it there. "Oh, please, Lord, don't let me fuck up," he
whispered quietly.
"Time to missile range now two minutes," Roy Fokker's
voice called out over the tac net. Technically, missile range
wasn't the maximum range the missile could travel. In
space, thanks to physics, the missile would keep going
unless something caused it to stop. Instead, missile range
was the maximum range of the sensor and targetting
systems onboard the missiles. Stephen smiled. Hopefully,
they wouldn't need to get any closer than that to the target.
It would certainly be better for his health. "All units, switch
master arm to enable," Fokker ordered. "Begin missile
target acquisition." Stephen complied instantly. The
weapons display showed all his weapons as live. He tapped
the target acquire control on his throttle, and his fighter's
sensors began to feed data into the targetting systems of the
missiles, allowing the missiles to launch as soon as the
fighters reached missile range of their target. Which would
be in less than two minutes.
Suddenly a new voice broke in over the "Ah, Ghost
Squadron, Valiant Control. We've got a magnified visual on
the target. You guys want a look, Ghost Leader?"
"Roger that, Valiant," Fokker responded. "Ghosts, let's
all see what we're about to kill."
What appeared on Stephen's display almost made him
sick. Their target looked.... monstrous. That was the only
word he could find for it. It looked like somebody's
demented impression of a demon. "I'd nuke this thing just
to stop from having to look at it," Ghost-Seven commented.
"Second that," somebody else called out. Stephen wasn't
sure who.
Fokker sounded slightly annoyed as his voice cut through
the chatter. "Ghosts, we're about thirty seconds to missile
range. Time for business," he said, and the chatter ceased.
Stephen began to watch intently as his fighter closed with
the monstrous target. The numbers kept decreasing, sliding
closer and closer to the desired 120 kilometer mark. There!
He checked the weapons display, making sure all of the
hardpoints were showing active, indicating that the missiles
attached would fire. Looking, he saw that they would.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled the missile trigger once.
One of the two missiles attached to each hardpoint
detached, their onboard computers taking charge. In each
missile, sensor and targetting systems began to do their job,
and rocket motors snapped to life, propelling the missiles
towards the target. As they streaked off, Stephen depressed
the missile trigger a second time, and the second and final
set of missiles detached from his fighter and came to life,
seeking out their prey. "Ghost-Three, missiles away!" he
called over the tac net. The other pilots were making
similar calls. Now they'd have but to wait and see if the
missiles did their jobs. There were scattered cheers over the
tac net.
"Maintain formations and course," Fokker ordered,
reminding the pilots that their job wasn't over yet. It
wouldn't be, Stephen knew, not until the target was
destroyed. Still, with some ninety-six high-explosive
warheads targetted on a single object less than twenty
meters in diameter, the chances of them not achieving a kill
were miniscule. He sighed. It didn't hurt to make sure,
though. Those were his children living down on the Earth
below. He examined his tactical sensor display. The
missiles, for the most part, seemed to be tracking, with only
a meager five having failed. The Sphinx missiles had a
rather reliable reputation. With a five percent failure rate,
Stephen could see why. They'd find out in about ten
seconds whether or not the warheads did their part of the
job. Five seconds. Detonation! He waited the precious
few seconds for the clutter around the target die away,
hoping the target would have left the screen. Unfortunately,
it was still there.
"Fokker to Valiant: Target has survived missile strike.
Ghost Squadron is proceeding to execute strafing attacks
against the target."
Stephen frowned. The missiles had done no damage
whatsoever to the target. It would take the entire squadron
nearly an hour to duplicate the equivalent level of force with
strafing runs using lasers. Apparently, Captain Rogers had
come to the same conclusion.
"Valiant Control to Ghost Squadron: Abort attack and
prepare for recovery aboard ship," a dispirited voice
ordered.
"Roger. I copy," Fokker responded. "You heard her,
Ghosts. Reverse course and prepare for recovery."
Stephen sighed with relief. His children weren't going to
end up as orphans. His children! He suddenly realized the
counterpoint to his own reasoning. If that thing wasn't
stopped, his kids might not survive. Fortunately, that's why
the Planetary Defense Force had forces planetside. It made
have survived tens of hits by high-explosive warheads, but
surely it couldn't survive and all-out assault by the forces
down below.
* * *
UNS Valiant, On Attack Course
7 June 2015, 0328 hours fleet standard time
"No effect whatsoever?" Admiral Robert Hayes asked
Captain Rogers, incredulous.
Matt Rogers shook his head. "Negative, sir. Of the 96
missiles fired, 91 tracked all the way to target, and 89
detonated. That's the equivalent of a one kiloton nuke,
Admiral."
The commander of Space Fleet Command paled. "My
god. Thank you for the update, Captain." Hayes sighed.
"Well, there's nothing left to do but fight. Good luck,
Captain Rogers. Central Command, out."
Matt Rogers frowned. The admiral's words were not all
that reassuring. "Tactical, status on recovery?"
"Complete, sir," Nakashima reported.
"Time to weapons range?" Rogers demanded, his
knuckles white from the tightness with which he was
holding the armrests.
"Three minutes, twenty seconds, Captain."
<< "Catastrophe", _Robotech Perfect Soundtrack Album_
From the helm, Ensign Erika Metzger called out in horror.
"Deceleration thrusters aren't firing!"
"What?!? Are you certain?"
"I have null helm control," she corrected. "My hole board
is dead!"
"Astrogation, take control," Matt ordered frantically. If
Valiant failed to alter course within the next five minutes,
they'd find themselves crashing into Earth's atmosphere at
several kilometers per second. Not healthy.
"Control transfer wolrked, but I still can't seem to change
course," Andrew reported worriedly.
Matt cursed, then slammed his fist down hard on a control
stud on his command chair's armrest, opening a direct link
to engineering. "Captain to Engineering: Initiate emergency
deceleration procedure."
"Captain, we're trying! Nothing's responding!"
Matt winced. There was no way Valiant was surviving
this one. But they had stop the target before she died.
"Sound the abandon ship alarm," he ordered, his voice
sounding defeated.
There were gasps from around the bridge. After a
second's pause, Lauren Nakashima gave voice to their
common thought. "Sir, if we do that, the target will reach
Earth!"
Matt Rogers stood and looked at her, his eyes reaching
out and making contact with those of his tactical officer.
"No, Commander, it won't. I'll see to that personally." He
took a deep breath. "Now, all of you, get to the escape
pods!"
Nakashima stood. "Captain, I think I speak for all of us
when I say it's been both an honor and a pleasure serving
with you."
There were tears in her eyes as she said that. There were
tears in the eyes of many of them, Matt saw, cursing
inwardly. "Thank you, Commander. The same goes for
me, towards all of you. Fight the good fight." He walked
over to her station and sat down at it, preparing to make
sure that as the Valiant went down, so did its nemesis. The
officers and crew were already gone by the time he'd belted
himself in. "Well, Matt, time to see just what you're made
of," he told himself. Most of the escape pods were gone,
and the shuttles were preparing to take the rest of the crew
off, he noted. Good. He didn't want any of his people
dying because of his screwups. Still sixty seconds out.
Looking at the hangar bay display, though, he could tell that
one of the shuttles would still be inside when he started
firing. There were just too many people aboard the doomed
carrier to get them all off quickly. Hopefully, the target
wouldn't be able to hit Valiant from that far out. Thirty
seconds out. Range! "Come on, motherfucker. Time to
die!" He pressed down hard on the firing controls for the
particle beam turrets. All four turrets came alive, pouring
energy directly at the target. It was doing something, he
could see, but still, it stood there, intact. he continued to
pour fire on, but the target remained. He looked at the
hangar display. His crew was gone now. He was alone
now, on his first command, and his last. Matt slammed his
hand down on the firing controls once more, and the turrets
let loose a torrent of fire at the target. Unfortunately,
Valiant's course had just taken it beyond the point at which
he could bring more than half those turrets to bare. He
curse, and concentrated on keeping the other two, the ones
that could hit the target, running.
He thought he could feel the bridge getting warmer.
"Entering the atmosphere?" he wondered aloud, continuing
to do his best against the target. Suddenly, one blast
seemed to effect it! One of the target's 'arms' was
completely melted. "YES!!!" he shouyted triumphantly.
Those were his last words.
All across the Northern Hemisphere, people could see the
fiery descent of the Valiant.
* * *
PDF HQ, Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada
7 June 2015, 0349 hours fleet standard time
"Goddamnit!" Admiral Hayes shouted, shaking a fist
impotently in the air as Valiant began to burn up.
"Calm down, Robert," Admiral Gloval said, placing a
hand on his friend's shoulder. "There was nothing you
could have done." Gloval turned to Vice Admiral Albert
Calavicci, the head of the Techincal Support Department.
"Well, Admiral?"
Al looked the PDF's commander straight in the eyes.
"Only minor damage to the target, and it's trajectory
remains unchanged. Point of impact is thirty-five kilometers
north-northwest of Tokyo-3. The JSDF, PDC, and NERV
all have the precise coordinates." And figuring all that out
had taken a lot of work by his four divisions. For him,
managing Project Quantum Leap had been a lot easier.
Gloval stroked his chin. This was not good. Could it be
that the creatures responsible for the Second Impact were
staging a return visit? And what of Valiant's mysterious
demise? "Admiral, please take charge of investigation of
the Valiant's loss."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Gloval nodded. "Thank you. General Grant, please have
your people ensure that recovery of the Valiant survivors is
taking care of," he said, speaking to the head of Support
Command, Al's boss. "Also, have the Japanese Liaison
Officer make sure that the Japanese military coordintes with
the Planetary Defense Corps battalion over there. We want
the best possible results when that thing comes down.
Communications, contact NERV and inform them that they
may proceed with their 'recruitment.'" There was a certain
tone of distaste as he issued the second command. Among
the upper levels of the PDF Command, it was an open
secret exactly what NERV's 'recruits' were.
<< End Theme: "Fly Me To The Moon", Neon Genesis
Evangelion >>