After Commander Veidt’s unexpected appearance and announcement, Central Dogma falls back into its normal state of organized chaos; tech’s work diligently at their stations crunching numbers or organizing logistical assets. For the scale of operations undertaken by the Evangelions and their various support units, a huge amount of paperwork had be to done in an amazing short time. While NERV staff did not require all of their orders to be written down and signed, the UN Fleet and the countless contractors employed by both organizations required that the right people be notified and the proper forms filled out.
On the other side of the equations, while not at bureaucratically bloated as other government agencies or the UN, NERV also processed a staggering amount of information for both itself and other institutional bodies, like the Prometheus Foundation. Such things require large amounts of organization and man power to both process and distribute information to the right places.
As Johann watches the staff around him work, it dons on him what a wonderful juxtaposition it is comparing the strategic and tactical level aspects of doing what he does. Decisions were made quickly at the command level, but it took time for orders and plans to go into action and produce results. On the ground, it took time for orders to come down from the top, but once received, things happened very quickly.
The Operations Director was left to think about that for little less than an hour before receiving a text from the S2 Chief on duty that all pilots except for the new arrival were waiting for him in the pilot ready room off the Cage. Shortly after that, he was notified that the various principals involved in the planning and execution of the upcoming operations were on their way to the ready room as well.
Before Renny can answer Jack, the door leading out to the Cage is thrown open, admitting the din of pre-deployment Cage work as well as a rather heated argument. Standing in the door way is a rather irate looking tech that seems to be arguing with a Section Two goon.
“Do I look like a God-damned babysitter? I though it was Duce’s job to keep an eye on the little brats? I’ve got to organize transfer and maintenance orders for five Eva’s, not to mention the bullshit I have to deal with last minute with a whole new unit getting dropped in my lap. Now piss off and go do your job so I can get on with mine!
The Section Two agent does not get a chance to reply as the tech quickly shuts the door in his face. Turning around, he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the pilots; obviously he was not expecting them.
The pilots all vaguely recognize the man as a senior member of the maintenance staff. They’ve seen him a few times before over seeing work in the Cage or during Sync testing, normally yelling at his fellow workers. From their brief exposure to his conversation with the Section Two agent, it becomes apparent to the pilots that this man may very well be the Chief Engineer who is in charge of maintaining all of their Evangelions.
The man himself looks to be in his late 20s, with a rough look about him. His dirty blond hair is getting to be rather shaggy; a fact probably not helped by the two headsets he is wearing, one around his neck, the other only half on his head. In the place where his name would have been stitched on his orange coveralls was instead a piece of duct tape with the name KOWALSKI written in black marker.
” he finally says after several moments of slightly awkward silence. It had become amazing silent in the room after the brief burst of noise from the Cage had been silenced, “At least they only lost one of you.
” He says, regaining his composure and walking over to the long briefing table.
Chief Engineer Kowalski drops down heavily into a chair and starts to flip though the thick clipboard he was holding, apparently content with ignoring the pilots around him. Within short order, various other personnel begin filtering into the room; five more of Kowalski’s orange clad gear-heads, several NERV personnel who’s uniforms give them away as science and bridge staff, and a small group of smartly dressed airmen, all gravely serious looking with their garrison caps tucked neatly under their passants and their uniforms creased razor sharp.
A dull murmur of idle chitchat and minor operations planning settled over the room as people prepared for the Operations Director himself to show up.