Defence in Depth [NGE]
- Thread starter grommile
- Start date
It may be efficient and safe for the servicemen who otherwise would have been in the line of fire taking down this turkey, but I wish you luck getting any coherent clues about who this guy was with him and most of the floor blown to bits. If this guy wasn't working alone, then we WILL have a repeat of today, sooner or later. A sooner or later that could have been prevented if we hadn't obliterated him and every clue we could've used to find the rest of the cell.
- Location
- In the depts of despair.
To be fair Tokyo 3 is by far the most advanced city of the world, including an incredible amount of cameras connected to a supercomputer. Its not going to be too hard to retrace the steps of everyone in the area of the attack until they find the culprit's home, and from there to find everyone he has benn in contact with.
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
On the plus side, your possible next not-a-date will go much better in comparison?
Rei has invented boredom? And twiddling her thumbs? I guess this is progress for her...
I entirely empathize with this reaction, particularly with respect to gorgeous redheads.
Yeah, me either, Misato. Yeesh...
A standard tactic? Jeebus, I joined the wrong Army, then. Our response to a sniper was 'a better sniper'. We certainly weren't allowed to just airstrike a building in urban terrain unless it was full on combat like 2003 or Mosul in 2017.
This guy was in my battalion's lead sniper my first tour, and to this day still has the record on Wikipedia for the 20th longest sniper kill on record, 1,250m.
grommile
nasty-minded old cynic
- Location
- NERV-Mercia
- Pronouns
- Traditional/Animate
Rei doesn't know how to human properly.
She is beginning to think that it would be pleasant to do so.
- Location
- Australia, mate
Uh oh. First comes boredom, then comes 'what can I do to stop my boredom?'
And Rei is capable of a great many things.
And Rei is capable of a great many things.
- Location
- In the depts of despair.
Sorry, I kept my idea of antisniper tactics to the WWII and Vietnam standard in which the liberal use of fire support was the norm rather than the exception. Yeah, in modern times countersnipers or armored vehicles to approach your own infantry to the building in question while providing covering fire is more common due to the risk of collateral damage.
To be fair, if I was against someone of the caliber of your friend I wouldn't even bother with collateral damage and call a B-52 on him, anyone that can hit a target over a km away is someone that can't be defeated with infantry alone.
grommile
nasty-minded old cynic
- Location
- NERV-Mercia
- Pronouns
- Traditional/Animate
Most dangerously for all involved, she is derived from a Knowledge-type progenitor, so she can think.
- Location
- In the depts of despair.
And while Gendo knows she can think, and in some degree depends of that ability to direct the Third Impact, the really dangerous thing for him is that she can think about people other than himself, in this case Shinji, who ironically enough reminds her of his father giving him an In that the commander never accounted for.
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Decompression
grommile
nasty-minded old cynic
- Location
- NERV-Mercia
- Pronouns
- Traditional/Animate
Misato hated Commander Ikari's office. It had very obviously been designed to intimidate whoever visited it, and the man made full use of that effect. The inevitable familiarity that came with visiting it in the line of duty softened the impact, but couldn't quite suppress it. "Six dead civilians – it could be eight by tomorrow – and twenty assorted lesser injuries," she said. "The SDF killed whoever did it so hard we can't even use dental records."
"I agree that Colonel Nakajima's choice of tactics was questionable," replied Ikari. Misato caught the telltale shift in his facial muscles that said he was smirking behind those steepled hands and amber glasses. "I will express our displeasure to General Kurita in person. Please attend to your pilots. It would be inconvenient if they were to be incapacitated by this incident. Dismissed."
That's your fucking son, you ingrate. Allegedly. "Of course, sir," she said, turning to depart.
For a moment, as she made the long walk out of the Commander's office, she could have sworn she heard another voice, faint and muffled, from behind her. However piqued her curiosity might have been, though, she had no desire to linger, or even look behind her as she departed.
Sat with his gaze directed at a safety poster on the break room wall in front of him, Shinji wasn't really looking at the poster, or anything else.
The van didn't have windows in the back, and Section Two had parked it very close to the café door when they came to collect him and Asuka, but it hadn't blocked his view of the square completely as he emerged. He'd seen a man who'd been shot in the head, and a little girl tugging at him like she was trying to wake him up.
He knew people had gotten killed during Angel attacks, of course, but there was... distance to it. He hadn't seen the bodies. He hadn't even been to visit Touji's little sister who was in hospital with broken legs thanks to falling rubble because he hadn't been good enough to actually fight the Third Angel. The Angels' victims had been inside buildings, or tanks crushed by Sachiel, or planes vapourized by Ramiel's particle beams, or ships sunk when Gaghiel broke their hulls open, and for all he could tell, the Angels were just monsters. There didn't seem to be any kind of conscious intent behind their violence – they just destroyed whatever threatened them or got between them and their goal.
This was something a man had done. One of the billions of people he was fighting the Angels to save. A man had gone up a building with a gun and started shooting people as they went about their daily business. They weren't even people he'd have any particular reason to hate. Just... people.
A red and black shape moved between him and the poster. "Shinji? Shinji, how are you feeling?"
Shinji blinked and shook his head, then blushed as he realized he was now basically staring at Misato's... Misato. "I... uh... why did..." He rubbed his face. "Why did that..."
"We don't know yet, Shinji," said Misato, squatting down so her face was level with his. "But we're going to find out, even though the SDF blew him to pieces."
Shinji looked around, and realized he and Misato were the only people in the room. "Wh-where's Asuka?"
As if on cue, the red-haired girl emerged from the women's restroom looking slightly dishevelled and even paler than normal, with one hand clapped over her abdomen. "Right here, id— Shinji. Can we go home now, Misato?"
"Yes," said Misato, pulling her beret out from under her epaulette strap and getting to her feet. "I'll get us a takeaway. And then we can... talk, I guess. If you want to."
Asuka pulled a face. "Nothing too greasy. Please."
Maya sat at the MAGI cluster's main visualization terminal, with the file the Section Two agent had provided open in her lap. She'd fed the first section into the hopper on the scanner as soon as she saw one of the photographs, and moved on to delivering the drier, more technical information by voice.
"Bullets recovered from semi-hard targets consistent with use of .338 Lapua Magnum," she read aloud. "Attacker fired from the 15th floor of the Yamagawa Building. Victims did not hold high-clearance roles."
Meaningless streams of pixels ran up the side of the visualization terminal, letting Maya know that the system was working on the information she was providing, and a list of names started appearing, followed by a red-boxed prompt. "CORRELATION OF EVIDENCE REQUIRES INTERROGATION OF JSDF SYSTEMS. THE IDENTITY OF THE CONFIRMING OPERATOR WILL BE RECORDED TO NERV SYSTEMS. PROCEED?"
Maya took a deep breath. NERV had authority to do this sort of thing, but there was still something intimidating about the prospect of actually doing it. "Proceed," she said.
The prompt vanished, and the pixel bands at the sides widened to represent the heightened activity. Another prompt appeared. "ANALYSIS TIME AT CURRENT SYSTEM LOAD: 17 HOURS 23 MINUTES. NO FURTHER DATA REQUIRED AT THIS TIME."
Maya scooped the contents of the scanner's output hopper back into the folder without looking at it, and stashed the folder in one of the locking drawers under the terminal. "Suspend display," she ordered the system. There wouldn't be much point in leaving the terminal running once she'd left for the evening.
"I agree that Colonel Nakajima's choice of tactics was questionable," replied Ikari. Misato caught the telltale shift in his facial muscles that said he was smirking behind those steepled hands and amber glasses. "I will express our displeasure to General Kurita in person. Please attend to your pilots. It would be inconvenient if they were to be incapacitated by this incident. Dismissed."
That's your fucking son, you ingrate. Allegedly. "Of course, sir," she said, turning to depart.
For a moment, as she made the long walk out of the Commander's office, she could have sworn she heard another voice, faint and muffled, from behind her. However piqued her curiosity might have been, though, she had no desire to linger, or even look behind her as she departed.
Sat with his gaze directed at a safety poster on the break room wall in front of him, Shinji wasn't really looking at the poster, or anything else.
The van didn't have windows in the back, and Section Two had parked it very close to the café door when they came to collect him and Asuka, but it hadn't blocked his view of the square completely as he emerged. He'd seen a man who'd been shot in the head, and a little girl tugging at him like she was trying to wake him up.
He knew people had gotten killed during Angel attacks, of course, but there was... distance to it. He hadn't seen the bodies. He hadn't even been to visit Touji's little sister who was in hospital with broken legs thanks to falling rubble because he hadn't been good enough to actually fight the Third Angel. The Angels' victims had been inside buildings, or tanks crushed by Sachiel, or planes vapourized by Ramiel's particle beams, or ships sunk when Gaghiel broke their hulls open, and for all he could tell, the Angels were just monsters. There didn't seem to be any kind of conscious intent behind their violence – they just destroyed whatever threatened them or got between them and their goal.
This was something a man had done. One of the billions of people he was fighting the Angels to save. A man had gone up a building with a gun and started shooting people as they went about their daily business. They weren't even people he'd have any particular reason to hate. Just... people.
A red and black shape moved between him and the poster. "Shinji? Shinji, how are you feeling?"
Shinji blinked and shook his head, then blushed as he realized he was now basically staring at Misato's... Misato. "I... uh... why did..." He rubbed his face. "Why did that..."
"We don't know yet, Shinji," said Misato, squatting down so her face was level with his. "But we're going to find out, even though the SDF blew him to pieces."
Shinji looked around, and realized he and Misato were the only people in the room. "Wh-where's Asuka?"
As if on cue, the red-haired girl emerged from the women's restroom looking slightly dishevelled and even paler than normal, with one hand clapped over her abdomen. "Right here, id— Shinji. Can we go home now, Misato?"
"Yes," said Misato, pulling her beret out from under her epaulette strap and getting to her feet. "I'll get us a takeaway. And then we can... talk, I guess. If you want to."
Asuka pulled a face. "Nothing too greasy. Please."
Maya sat at the MAGI cluster's main visualization terminal, with the file the Section Two agent had provided open in her lap. She'd fed the first section into the hopper on the scanner as soon as she saw one of the photographs, and moved on to delivering the drier, more technical information by voice.
"Bullets recovered from semi-hard targets consistent with use of .338 Lapua Magnum," she read aloud. "Attacker fired from the 15th floor of the Yamagawa Building. Victims did not hold high-clearance roles."
Meaningless streams of pixels ran up the side of the visualization terminal, letting Maya know that the system was working on the information she was providing, and a list of names started appearing, followed by a red-boxed prompt. "CORRELATION OF EVIDENCE REQUIRES INTERROGATION OF JSDF SYSTEMS. THE IDENTITY OF THE CONFIRMING OPERATOR WILL BE RECORDED TO NERV SYSTEMS. PROCEED?"
Maya took a deep breath. NERV had authority to do this sort of thing, but there was still something intimidating about the prospect of actually doing it. "Proceed," she said.
The prompt vanished, and the pixel bands at the sides widened to represent the heightened activity. Another prompt appeared. "ANALYSIS TIME AT CURRENT SYSTEM LOAD: 17 HOURS 23 MINUTES. NO FURTHER DATA REQUIRED AT THIS TIME."
Maya scooped the contents of the scanner's output hopper back into the folder without looking at it, and stashed the folder in one of the locking drawers under the terminal. "Suspend display," she ordered the system. There wouldn't be much point in leaving the terminal running once she'd left for the evening.
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- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
Looks like Asuka didn't like seeing the victims any more than Shinji. Less, even, if she had to go throw up. And wow, Maya's got the MAGI chewing on some huge database if they need most of a day to grind it out.
JSSDF involvement in the sniper, maybe? Disgruntled faction?
JSSDF involvement in the sniper, maybe? Disgruntled faction?
grommile
nasty-minded old cynic
- Location
- NERV-Mercia
- Pronouns
- Traditional/Animate
The MAGI have other work in the task pool (both user requests and non-cancellable background jobs), and Ritz hasn't delegated her sysadmin authority to Maya, so she can't boost this job's timeslice to maximum. (The only thing that can be boosted to maximum priority without sysadmin intervention is computational support for Angel attacks.)
Japan has super-strict firearms law (and has done since well before 2I), and there's very little convincing reason under that paradigm to issue civilian licences for rifles chambered in a .338 magnum cartridge (in the DiD timeline cartridges comparable to 7.62 NATO have been designated Officially Sufficient for deer and wild boar), which in turn makes its use the wrong kind of unsubtle for the yakuza, so the logical place to start checking for its origins is armoury records (equipment unaccounted for) and disciplinary records (sniper gone AWOL).
- Location
- The Midlands.
.338 rifles and ammunition aren't exactly cheap or widely available on the black/grey markets either. Even if the Yakuza really want Gendo to know how upset they are with him or some pack of lunatics have started worshipping the Angels, they'd have a much easier time getting hold of something in 7.62 (either NATO or Warsaw Pact varieties) or maybe 6.5x50 Arisaka.
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- Location
- The Land of Many Bregrets
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Gotta admit, the sniper feels pretty out of nowhere from a story/narrative perspective.
Of course, look at Asuka and Shinji's situation as a limited, localised, milder form of Instrumentality and... yeah, no wonder SEELE would be gunning for the pilots.
Of course, look at Asuka and Shinji's situation as a limited, localised, milder form of Instrumentality and... yeah, no wonder SEELE would be gunning for the pilots.
I concur. WAFF is incredibly nice always, but if the story is dealing with conspiracies and action obviously it has to rain on the parade at some point.
grommile
nasty-minded old cynic
- Location
- NERV-Mercia
- Pronouns
- Traditional/Animate
A forthcoming line, offered without context:
She picked up one of the jars, pondering the flat yellowish seeds and red flakes inside, and remembered that humans sometimes used strong, ostensibly unpleasant stimuli to distract themselves from weaker but more vexing stimuli.
She picked up one of the jars, pondering the flat yellowish seeds and red flakes inside, and remembered that humans sometimes used strong, ostensibly unpleasant stimuli to distract themselves from weaker but more vexing stimuli.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/Ey/Em
You're not supposed to eat chili flakes straight, Rei! They're a condiment!
Transfer
grommile
nasty-minded old cynic
- Location
- NERV-Mercia
- Pronouns
- Traditional/Animate
When the sun rose that Tuesday, Rei was already out of bed, recovering her hateful garments from where she had flung them the previous evening. The same conditioning that allowed a simple signal to break her habitual daze in an instant had instilled expectations about what would follow from an alert. Those expectations had not been fulfilled, and her senses were undimmed even after a fitful and near-sleepless night. The bedsheets were no more pleasant than her clothes, and even her own hair brushing against her neck when she turned her head had become a source of irritation. She dumped the previous day's garments into the laundry hamper and pondered her situation.
Staying at home was out of the question; for all that her attendance was pointless, it would be unpleasant to have to explain such a large wilful deviation from routine to the Commander or Dr Akagi.
She could not plead a gastrointestinal upset; her biochemical makeup was anathema to every pathogen and parasite known to humanity, and for all that she found the tastes and textures of flesh unpleasant, she had no dietary intolerances in the biological sense.
Pondering that last point, Rei walked into the kitchen. The Section Two agent who had helped her move her things – such as they were – into the apartment had left some jars of herbs and spices in one of the cupboards. She had never even bothered to unseal them, having no context for how they might be used. She picked up one of the jars, pondering the flat yellowish seeds and red flakes inside, and remembered that humans sometimes used strong, ostensibly unpleasant stimuli to distract themselves from weaker but more vexing stimuli.
She peeled the plastic seal off the jar and unscrewed the lid.
Shoulders squared in the best impression of "imperious" she could manage, Asuka swept her gaze over the class, contemplating the people she was about to spend six hours a day with.
There was Shinji, of course, but thinking about that too much was a bad idea.
There was the jock and the nerd who'd been with Shinji on the Over the Rainbow. The nerd flinched and the jock met her gaze with a scowl.
There was the blue-haired pilot – Ayanami, was it? She looked back at Asuka with a terrifying intensity that didn't mesh with that memory of Shinji's.
One of the girls, who'd been "blessed" by her hormones, smirked; the rest had nothing to make them stand out.
"Good morning," she said. "I'm Asuka Langley Souryuu. I'm here to protect you all from the Angels, and if anyone sticks a love letter in my locker I'll make him eat it."
A hushed murmur ran around the classroom, only to be stilled when the aged fossil purportedly employed as their teacher cleared his throat. "Thank you, Miss Souryuu. Please be seated. Gentlemen, please remember that lockers are not mailboxes."
Asuka walked over to the desk in front of Ayanami. Up close, she could see that her fellow pilot's expression was not so much one of "intensity" as one of discomfort. "Hi," said Asuka before settling into her seat.
"Good morning, Pilot Souryuu." Ayanami paused and tilted her head. "You remind me of Pilot Ikari. Can we talk later?"
The teacher started speaking in a flat, droning voice that could almost have been calculated to make his pupils zone out. "Now, in the wake of Second Impact, old Tokyo was struck by both geological upheaval and a deliberate nuclear attack..."
Sitting up on the roof with Rei and Asuka, Shinii stared in shock as Rei produced a jar of chilli flakes from her bag and shook a generous dose out onto her lunch. "Ah, Ayanami, are you—"
"My clothes are deeply uncomfortable," replied Rei. "Intense sensory stimuli make it less noticeable. Capsaicin is a convenient source."
Asuka snorted. "I know these uniforms are ridiculous, but they're not that bad, are they?"
Rei took a bite of her lunch before responding. "Cloth is unpleasant, and my senses are heightened due to yesterday's alert not bringing me into combat."
"Why don't you tell Dr Akagi?" asked Shinji.
"You were visibly distressed by the condition of my apartment. Dr Akagi is not." Rei took another bite of her lunch. "She is not concerned with my comfort."
His opinion of the scientist lurching further downward, Shinji decided to move the conversation on. "I guess that wasn't what you wanted to talk to us about, though."
"You are experiencing mutual mental contamination," said Rei. "It is a very strange sight. Have you touched each other since then?"
"What the hell kind of question is that?" asked Asuka, scowling at the bluenette as she devoured more of her chilli-strewn lunch.
"It's a Rei kind of question," said Shinji. "You get used to it. Anyway. No, we haven't touched each other since we left the entry plug."
"Thank you, Pilot Ikari."
"You said it was a strange sight. What do you mean?"
"I may have said too much. You are..." Rei tilted her head, then smiled very slightly. "You are Evangelion pilots. Your performance against the Angels would be well served by understanding your situation. This is not an ideal venue. May I come home with you this afternoon?"
Shinji smiled back at Rei. "All right by me," he said.
Asuka looked at Rei and shifted uncomfortably. "I... guess. I can't really argue with the idea."
Rei's smile widened a little further. "I look forward to visiting you."
Seated in his office, Kouzou looked across the shougi table at his superior. "The First Child is connecting with the other pilots," he observed, moving a pawn.
"If her loyalty wavers, she can be replaced. If it doesn't, she becomes a means to influence the others." Gendou dropped his bishop in an attacking position. "The scenario is not unacceptably perturbed."
It was a bold move. Kouzou sat back in his chair and pondered it. "What is the Committee's angle?"
"Irrelevant." Gendou looked at the clock. "I have an appointment with a uniformed fool. Excuse me. Let us continue this later."
"Of course."
Staying at home was out of the question; for all that her attendance was pointless, it would be unpleasant to have to explain such a large wilful deviation from routine to the Commander or Dr Akagi.
She could not plead a gastrointestinal upset; her biochemical makeup was anathema to every pathogen and parasite known to humanity, and for all that she found the tastes and textures of flesh unpleasant, she had no dietary intolerances in the biological sense.
Pondering that last point, Rei walked into the kitchen. The Section Two agent who had helped her move her things – such as they were – into the apartment had left some jars of herbs and spices in one of the cupboards. She had never even bothered to unseal them, having no context for how they might be used. She picked up one of the jars, pondering the flat yellowish seeds and red flakes inside, and remembered that humans sometimes used strong, ostensibly unpleasant stimuli to distract themselves from weaker but more vexing stimuli.
She peeled the plastic seal off the jar and unscrewed the lid.
Shoulders squared in the best impression of "imperious" she could manage, Asuka swept her gaze over the class, contemplating the people she was about to spend six hours a day with.
There was Shinji, of course, but thinking about that too much was a bad idea.
There was the jock and the nerd who'd been with Shinji on the Over the Rainbow. The nerd flinched and the jock met her gaze with a scowl.
There was the blue-haired pilot – Ayanami, was it? She looked back at Asuka with a terrifying intensity that didn't mesh with that memory of Shinji's.
One of the girls, who'd been "blessed" by her hormones, smirked; the rest had nothing to make them stand out.
"Good morning," she said. "I'm Asuka Langley Souryuu. I'm here to protect you all from the Angels, and if anyone sticks a love letter in my locker I'll make him eat it."
A hushed murmur ran around the classroom, only to be stilled when the aged fossil purportedly employed as their teacher cleared his throat. "Thank you, Miss Souryuu. Please be seated. Gentlemen, please remember that lockers are not mailboxes."
Asuka walked over to the desk in front of Ayanami. Up close, she could see that her fellow pilot's expression was not so much one of "intensity" as one of discomfort. "Hi," said Asuka before settling into her seat.
"Good morning, Pilot Souryuu." Ayanami paused and tilted her head. "You remind me of Pilot Ikari. Can we talk later?"
The teacher started speaking in a flat, droning voice that could almost have been calculated to make his pupils zone out. "Now, in the wake of Second Impact, old Tokyo was struck by both geological upheaval and a deliberate nuclear attack..."
Sitting up on the roof with Rei and Asuka, Shinii stared in shock as Rei produced a jar of chilli flakes from her bag and shook a generous dose out onto her lunch. "Ah, Ayanami, are you—"
"My clothes are deeply uncomfortable," replied Rei. "Intense sensory stimuli make it less noticeable. Capsaicin is a convenient source."
Asuka snorted. "I know these uniforms are ridiculous, but they're not that bad, are they?"
Rei took a bite of her lunch before responding. "Cloth is unpleasant, and my senses are heightened due to yesterday's alert not bringing me into combat."
"Why don't you tell Dr Akagi?" asked Shinji.
"You were visibly distressed by the condition of my apartment. Dr Akagi is not." Rei took another bite of her lunch. "She is not concerned with my comfort."
His opinion of the scientist lurching further downward, Shinji decided to move the conversation on. "I guess that wasn't what you wanted to talk to us about, though."
"You are experiencing mutual mental contamination," said Rei. "It is a very strange sight. Have you touched each other since then?"
"What the hell kind of question is that?" asked Asuka, scowling at the bluenette as she devoured more of her chilli-strewn lunch.
"It's a Rei kind of question," said Shinji. "You get used to it. Anyway. No, we haven't touched each other since we left the entry plug."
"Thank you, Pilot Ikari."
"You said it was a strange sight. What do you mean?"
"I may have said too much. You are..." Rei tilted her head, then smiled very slightly. "You are Evangelion pilots. Your performance against the Angels would be well served by understanding your situation. This is not an ideal venue. May I come home with you this afternoon?"
Shinji smiled back at Rei. "All right by me," he said.
Asuka looked at Rei and shifted uncomfortably. "I... guess. I can't really argue with the idea."
Rei's smile widened a little further. "I look forward to visiting you."
Seated in his office, Kouzou looked across the shougi table at his superior. "The First Child is connecting with the other pilots," he observed, moving a pawn.
"If her loyalty wavers, she can be replaced. If it doesn't, she becomes a means to influence the others." Gendou dropped his bishop in an attacking position. "The scenario is not unacceptably perturbed."
It was a bold move. Kouzou sat back in his chair and pondered it. "What is the Committee's angle?"
"Irrelevant." Gendou looked at the clock. "I have an appointment with a uniformed fool. Excuse me. Let us continue this later."
"Of course."
- Location
- United States
But Rei doesn't eat meat though.
greensun
You shall all burn beneath my light!!!
It ain't the met that causes taco bell problems (hopefully) it's the peppers and spices disagreeing with a person's stomach.
And... Hmmm. Rei and Asuka not immediately disliking each other is a turn for the books. A good one, they could have used each other when shit got bad.
- Location
- Surrey
*Meanwhile, Ritsuko cackles evilly as she secretly puts the 162nd batch of itching powder into Rei's clothes.*
greensun
You shall all burn beneath my light!!!
Sensitivity to certain textures is a symptom of autism, if I am recalling correctly. It could very well just be another sign of Rei's canon autistic streak.
grommile
nasty-minded old cynic
- Location
- NERV-Mercia
- Pronouns
- Traditional/Animate
There is no quantity of orange kitten that could make me have Ritz do that
