Kaiju Slaying For Death And Profit Ch 41
Gutten...uhh...I don't know how to say evening in German.
Sorry for the late posting. This past week was a shitshow. And I may or may not have spent some of the time during the week I normally try to write playing Helldivers and bringing Righteous Liberation to the Socialist Silicate Sanctimonious Savages in Cyberstan.
Side note, if you like Helldivers and would like a fun time, look up the Super Citizen's Bulletin on facebook, instagram, reddit, or Discord. I write for them on occasion, it's a fun side project for the funsies.
Please don't tell them I have a Patreon/Subscribestar. XD
The other thing I lost time to was and playing Enfield, or as I call it, Waifu Factorio.
The Factory Hungers.
BUT! I locked in starting Friday. And got the chapter done!
Just like, recently.
With my dog bothering me the whole time.
I'mma go play with her now. Here is chapter, hope you enjoy it.
=][=
Akitake Hidehiko’s smile strained the muscles of his face as he fought to keep it in place.
The cult was happy as ever to speak with him, to include him in their weird rituals and meetings, and to play games with him.
But there was something off about it.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was off.
The instructions he occasionally received did not make sense.
The things he’d found, the preparations NERV was making, the mercenary groups they’d hired. They were clearly a danger to the Instrumentality Project. Yet Hidehiko’s orders were to maintain surveillance?
Not only that, he’d sent out the code he’d been given to use to ask for extraction, yet the next time he’d received instruction, it had not been acknowledged.
Not denied.
It had not even been mentioned.
Could the cult have found him out? Did they know he was not truly one of them?
No, there had been disappearances and ‘accidents.’ If the cult knew he was against them, they’d have killed him.
Right?
So Hidehiko kept the smile on his face and listed all the great things about NERV’s favorite ornery Pilot, he spoke at length about how he was such a mighty warrior, and he continued to intercept the cult’s communications as well as send out his own.
He would do his part, and become as a God. The cult could not be allowed to put the Human Instrumentality Project under threat.
=][=
Aika Kaede read through the reports in front of her, she liked to call the ‘club room’ her ‘second office,’ as she had, essentially, left her job as an analyst to go to her second job as an analyst.
She was part of a group that had formed organically within NERV.
There were many things that could be said about NERV personnel, but the one thing that could most easily be proved was that they were all smart. NERV had been given nothing less than the best of the best, of the best. Of the twenty smartest people in the world, seventeen of them worked for NERV, fifteen of them were her coworkers. Three of them were personal friends.
Hana had been the first to see the pattern. Which made sense, her field of study was well suited to pattern recognition.
Someone was working against NERV. Not enough for NERV to fail, not enough to give total victory to the Angels. But enough that they’d suffer, enough so they’d bleed.
The only thing that had stopped that plan from succeeding was Shinji. He’d simply been far more effective and efficient a Pilot than even the most optimistic predictions. Luckily, their group had formed before whoever had been sabotaging them had adapted.
The ‘group.’ They didn’t have a name, Naomi kept saying they needed to come up with a name, something about achieving greater cohesion. But Kaede didn’t see much of a point, they were largely united in their purpose.
To aid Shinji in saving humanity.
Daishi Eisen walked into Kaede’s ‘office.’ “Miss Aika.”
Kaede did not stop reading through her reports, though she did make a few notes about changing the location of their dead drops. “Mister Daishi, how can I help you?”
He closed the door and sat down heavily on the chair opposite her desk. “It’s Akitake, I think he’s caught on.”
Kaede’s hands stilled.
“That…is quite a shame.” She said, clicking her tongue in irritation. Akitake had been one of their most consistent sources of information. “How sure are you?”
Daishi shrugged. “Just a feeling. But he’s looking more anxious lately. He’s been a bit too nosy about the mercenaries that NERV is taking on.”
Kaede hummed. “We all have been, it’s an unusual decision.”
“Not like this guy.” Daishi insisted. “I feel like he’s going to do a runner soon. Or something else drastic.”
“We can’t have that.” Kaede murmured. “Security is being beefed up all around, we’re going to have too many new people soon to move about with impunity, so if we’re to do something about this, we need to do it soon.”
“So, Akitake needs to have an accident?” Daishi asked.
Kaede clicked her tongue in distaste and hardened her heart. “Yes, yes he does.”
“I’ll see it done.”
Daishi stood and walked out, his shoulders set.
Kaede tried to swallow her distaste at the actions she ordered.
But while they’d been doing a damn fine job of it, Shinji and the Pilots couldn’t save the world on their own.
Kaede would do her part. Whatever this secret organization that was trying to sabotage NERV was, they would not be allowed to put humanity under threat.
=][=
Asuka walked into Misato’s apartment in a daze. She didn’t even notice the forgotten leftover smell that came from the vague direction of the kitchen. The only reason the apartment did not reek (worse than it did) was her superior German knot craft.
She walked through a few trash bags (with their openings tied into a masterful knot) that she’d normally have stepped around. Tripped over Pen Pen and didn’t notice as it squawked at her. And pulled on the door to her room instead of pushing it open.
But Asuka was, eventually, safe in her room. In her bastion of cleanliness, tidiness, and precision.
Where she proceeded to throw herself face down on her bed, hug her pillow tight, and squee like the schoolgirl she was while excitedly kicking her feet, her face feeling like it was on fire.
She continued to squeal as she wriggled and tossed and turned and kicked her feet some more.
She was wanted! She was wanted, and she was enjoyed, and she was desired! And it had been sublime!
She imagined that her lips still stung, she could still feel his huge hands as they explored, and pressed, and caressed, and pinched. Making her squeak, and squeal, and moan, and all but melt as her own hands explored and found a fascinating juxtaposition of pliability and hardness strong as steel.
And she’d tried to submit like Rei had said, but she’d gotten too excited to just meekly let him have his way. Asuka had tried to counterattack, to take control. She’d pushed, and pulled, and sucked and pinched just like he had, and like Rei had said he would, he retook control, gently but firmly, and he’d all but forced her to swallow their mingled spit and while just yesterday she would have screamed about how gross that was, now she remembered the moment and it ignited a fire in her belly and she found that she was grinding the heel of her hand between her legs and she couldn’t stop herself as her body itched in a way she was not used to.
She didn’t feel quite like she was an adult, because even though she kinda had wanted him to, Shinji hadn’t taken her. He’d riled her up and kissed her and licked her and sucked her. Her nipples stiffened and chaffed under her bra as she remembered the way his tongue had felt as he licked and nibbled on them.
It made sense that he knew how to pleasure a woman, he had two girlfriends and they were seemingly quite happy to be with him. And with men being the horndogs they are, he probably got a lot of practice.
And while she should find that thought repulsive, she strangely did not. Instead, she found herself thinking of trying what he did to her on Rei and Maya. She didn’t know exactly how Shinji would be involved in that, but he would be, and it would be hot. And Rei’s cool hands would do things, and Shinji’s huge warm hands would do things, and Maya’s bigger than Asuka’s but nonetheless slender hands would do things, and it would be amazing, and she wanted that so bad she could barely think.
Shinji had played Asuka like a perfectly tuned Markneukirchen violin, and she wanted more, and she—
Asuka jumped as she heard the front door slam open, the drunken sounds of Misato stumbling through the apartment and tripping over the trash bags followed soon after, dousing the fire in Asuka’s belly and returning her to the present.
She had promised Shinji that she’d go to his apartment tomorrow, so he could ‘present her’ to Maya and Rei, making her acceptance into his harem official.
He hadn’t put it quite that crudely, but that’s essentially what was going to happen. And while the Asuka of yesterday would have railed against the idea, the Asuka of today was nervous about being accepted, as looking back on it, she hadn’t exactly made the best of impressions on the other two girls.
Rei, because she had nearly gotten Shinji killed through her reckless grandstanding…a few times. And Maya, because it had taken Asuka an embarrassingly long time to learn her name. Though with any luck, neither Maya nor her girlfriend were aware of that particular embarrassment.
Asuka considered staying in her room and trying to capture her earlier feelings of euphoric giddiness, then forced herself off her bed, made sure she was presentable, and went off to ask drunk Misato for permission to have a sleepover with Rei, sober Misato usually kept drunk Misato’s word.
With any luck, drunk Misato would not be the one to call and ask Maya for that favor. Drunk Misato was unerringly embarrassing.
As she reached the kitchen, Asuka saw that Misato was already on her fourth beer.
“Man, must have been a rough day today.” She muttered and plunged forward to get what she wanted.
Tomorrow, Asuka Langley Soryu would graduate from a mere girl, into a woman!
“Ashukuh!” Drunk Misato said with a dopey smile. “You won belief wuzup at work today!”
…
“Mein Gott, she’s worse than I thought if she’s actually slurring her speech.” Asuka Langley Soryu muttered and hesitated. Heavily Drunk Misato was a menace, but she was oddly observant, and if she realized that Asuka Langley Soryu intended to lose her virginity in the morrow, she would either interfere, or Asuka Langley Soryu would never hear the end of it with the woman’s endless teasing.
“Why? What happened at work?” Asuka (Langley Soryu) asked as she tried to figure out both the best way to deal with Heavily Drunk Misato, and the best approach to get what she wanted.
On the morrow, Shinji and her fellow haremettes would make an honest woman out of Asuka Langley Soryu!
…
Haremettes sounded so reductive though.
Harem sisters? No, she wasn’t yet close enough with them for ‘sisters’ to be a precise enough denomination for her sensibilities.
Shinji and his girlfriends? No, she fully intended to be a part of that mess, looked forward to it even. So, they would be her girlfriends too, if she parsed that whole thing correctly.
…
Whatever, she’d figure it out later.
“Hey Misato? Can I stay over at Rei’s tomorrow?”
“Wuzza? Noh way! There’s boy there!” Misato answered.
Asuka kept the easygoing smile on her face with some effort. “Oh? But Maya is there you know? She wouldn’t let anything happen.”
“Oh…Right, su…shu…sher…yeh, yeah. Cool.” Misato said, forgetting exactly how to talk, then chugging her seventh beer.
“Geez, give your poor liver a break. You’re old, you know?”
“‘M still in th flow of m’uth!” Heavily Drunk Misato protested, Asuka filled a few opened cans of Boa with water in an age-old trick to get some proper hydration into Drunk Misato, it worked even better on Heavily Drunk Misato as she often forgot which of the cans around her held beer, then went back to her room.
She had to decide what underwear she was going to wear. She was currently leaning toward cute but risqué. She definitely didn’t want to seem slutty; she had to have class!
Maybe her bright red lingerie? But those were expensive, and what if that big doofus did something like tearing them off her body with his teeth?
On second thought that sounded pretty hot, and he was loaded so she’d just make him buy her a new pair.
She figured that to some, it may seem absurd that she, an Evangelion Pilot who had objectively saved the world a couple times (with assistance, but still) would be worrying about such things. But she was owed this.
Today and tomorrow, Asuka would bask in what Rei had helped her discover. After, she would go back to keeping humanity safe from any and all threats.
=][=
Joe Yamato washed dishes in the bar’s kitchen.
Some people might wonder what an American born and raised man of Japanese descent with a college education and a military background might be doing in Tokyo-3 washing dishes.
Well, that would be because he was going by the name Yamato Yu. And he was washing dishes because that’s the job that was available.
Yes, there was more lucrative work he could be doing, especially with his degrees.
But this bar was special, as it was a watering hole that was frequented by people of a certain organization that was very important to NATO and, truth be told, the whole world. And as the saying goes: In wine, truth.
So, he washed dishes, and when it was time, early in the morning, he helped close the bar, cleaned up the puddle of vomit, wiped tables, and surreptitiously swapped out the memory of the recording devices he had under the tables.
Back at his apartment, exhausted, his hands aching, his feet hurting, and his eyes drooping closed, he did not go to bed like he wanted to. He went through each and every recording, listening mostly to asinine drunken drivel, the occasional scandalous secret, and eventually, he hit paydirt.
He listened to the people from NERV. They were smart enough never to use the same table twice, and to his knowledge, they rotated through various watering holes around the city. So most mornings, the only benefit Joe received from his diligent combing through the recordings was a chronic lack of sleep.
But today, he got to hear the fine boys from NERV chatter on about…a mercenary company?
Interesting.
Blearily, he sent his findings up the chain, he then brushed his teeth, drank some water, and went to bed. Safe in his knowledge that he had done his part to keep humanity from being put under threat.
=][=
The report of one Joe Yamato was transcribed into light, its peaks and troughs separated by far too great a distance to be visible to the naked human eye.
Several of the unfortunate creatures that had been slaughtered over the months would have been able to perceive it, some of them would have been able to parse the information, three of them would have had the capability to understand its contents.
Only one of them, a traitor to its unfortunate, lonely kind, would have been capable of true comprehension.
This wave of harnessed, enslaved light was sent outwards into the void, not upwards, as direction is relative in the vast expanse of nearly nothing between celestial bodies. It was sent out like a scream, a wide-reaching call for attention, one picked up by the limited number of orbiting man-made satellites.
These satellites were crude by the standards of most realities where humanity had begun reaching out into the nothing between celestial bodies, their casings thick, their components rough and oversized, a far cry from sleek or efficient, the very definition of ‘good enough.’
The creators of these satellites had prioritized one thing above all; longevity.
It would not be unfair to say that the most ancient among their number was decades older than the median age of the species which had created it.
If it could speak, it would have quite the tale to tell, a tale full of sorrow, full of loss, full of hate. For it had had a privilege that was seldom had throughout the multiverse, a privilege that many beings bargained, bled, and butchered for. One that, if it could think, if it could feel, if it could comprehend, it might well have chosen not to experience.
For it got to watch a world burn.
It got to witness a civilization of nearly seven billion souls be decimated five times over in an instant.
It got to witness the traumatized survivors scrabble over what meager resources remained, slaughtering each other for mouthfuls of water, crumbs of food.
It got to witness the greatest cruelties, the worst depravities, the vilest tragedies.
And only recently, had it gotten to witness an upward trajectory in the existence of its creators. Only recently did it see some among their number gain safety and security. Only recently was kindness no longer a weakness to be exploited.
If it could think, and comprehend, and feel, and speak. What tales might such a thing have to tell?
Would it care, that it was the envy of beings far greater in power and influence than itself? Would it care that many of those beings would bargain away significant portions of their power for the ‘privilege’ it had been ‘gifted?’ Would it worry about the fate of its creators? Would it wish for teeth so it could gnash them in impotent rage as a few individuals continued to sabotage the possibility of a prosperous future for humanity?
Would it weep, or would it laugh? Would its laugh be joyous and hateful, or the broken laugh of one whose tears have turned to blood and now it laughs for it has naught else to give yet it must react still?
Or would it simply be apathetic? Far too traumatized by the horrors it had borne witness to, and thus refuse to engage with the drama playing out beneath it as its creators got ready to decimate themselves yet again?
Alas. Such will remain conjecture, as this satellite could not think, or comprehend, or speak, or feel. It did as any machine of its ilk does. It received an input, it processed this input through the logic gates built into its system, then enacted the effect thus commanded.
And so the report of one Joe Yamato continued on to a secured location, one where NATO analysts would ponder over it, where it would be discussed at length and worried over. Recordings of the half-drunk conversation would be analyzed by thirty different experts in eclectic fields of study.
But it also went elsewhere. It went somewhere where the twelve most powerful men in the world spoke in absolute certainty of their privacy.
[WE HAVE ALREADY PUSHED THE PLAN FORWARD BY TWO WEEKS YOU IGNORAMUS!]
Though perhaps ‘spoke’ is too kind a word.
[They have hired a mercenary company! One we won’t be able to simply outbid!] Monolith 09 spat. [We must push forward immediately!]
[The initial estimate was for eight weeks!] Monolith 11 thundered. [We pushed the deadline forward by two weeks under protest of nearly half this council! We cannot act faster! Doing so would put the entire endeavor under unconscionable risk!]
[But they are about to have an army!]
[Let them! We have more! What’s a few hundred dead, we’ll have eternity to guide humanity past these losses!]
[If they have an army we may well fail to take control of the location you nincompoop! If any of their pilots—]
[We have Evangelions of our own! And we have more of them!]
[They have four battle-hardened Pilots! We have nothing but coddled children who have only experienced combat through simulations!]
[I—]
[ENOUGH!]
The argument ceased immediately.
[Enough.] The First among them said more softly, more tiredly. [All of our nerves are frayed. I understand the desire to hurry. But we will not deviate from our new schedule. Cutting two weeks from the preparations was already reckless. Doing any more invites annihilation. We must hold steady gentlemen.]
[But we’ve lost all our moles from NERV!] Monolith 09 challenged, a sign of the desperation SEELE found itself mired in, as that would never have happened a mere few days, or even hours, before. [We are now fully in the dark about anything happening in that organization! Ikari is supposedly still on this council, yet we are betrayed by this latest stunt! If it weren’t for NATO we would not have learned that they are hiring mercenaries!]
[But we did learn of it.] The First said, his tone velvet wrapped around a steel fist. [And we will prepare accordingly. That is all the last I will hear of this debate.]
The silence that followed was a sullen one.
But most of them thought it was no matter. In two weeks time, they would become Gods. And through their eternal guidance, humanity would prosper, and never again would it be placed under threat.
Or so twelve men who were terrified of death told themselves.
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