Sato Hakama

Twenty minutes before a flight of Blastcrows roared through their airspace on an assault run against Old San Francisco, and less than five minutes after he called his son to apologize for not being home for Nicholas’s birthday, Hakama Sato was ushered into the office of Flight Sergeant Michael Wynters.

Wynters was a clean-shaven man with close-cropped dark blonde hair and gray eyes. He rose from his chair and greeted Hakama warmly, enfolding the reporter’s hand in a powerful handshake.

Almost simultaneously, both men said: “It is an honor to meet you, sir," and then each man gave a slight chuckle as the sergeant pointed to a chair. Sato sat down and Wynters took a seat near him.

“I take it you are here to ask me about my encounters on patrol this morning?”

“Yes, with the Blastcrows and the, ah, the giant.”

“Off the record, I am glad that giant, whoever - or whatever - it is, showed up when it did.  On the record, well, I really wish we knew more about it…”.

“Completely understood, especially as it seems my own son was in the group of students endangered by those monsters," Hakama replied.

“Wow,” the pilot replied. “Small world. Anyway, it started when my partner, Air Sergeant Dave Payton, and I were on a routine patrol. We picked up five bogeys at about five minutes post launch.

“We trailed them for about fifteen minutes, with our stealth modes engaged, before they split off, one to a known nesting area, two towards the north, and the other two towards the east.

My partner followed the north-bound group, while I headed East.” Here he paused to take a sip from a bottle on his desk. “Oh, my manners! If you need a drink, I have juice, water and at least one beer in the fridge over by the door.”

Sato acknowledged this but did not move.

“Anyway, I was tailing the pair of Blastcrows, when the computer alerted me that a school group was in the area. I decided to engage immediately, after requesting support.

“I managed to defeat one of the flying monsters but lost my ship’s lance - and discovered they were not alone, as they seemed to be leading a Drillgar.”

He paused again to drink and close his eyes for a moment before continuing: “I knew I did not have the armaments to handle one of the big boys, especially damaged as I was, but I prepared to sell my life dearly, when something on the ground opened fire on and killed the remaining Blastcrow.”

“So, you did not see that part of the battle?” Sato asked.

“Not exactly, sir, just the damage done. But then the source of that damage apparently revealed itself, as a man-like shape slightly larger than the Drillgar it fought. I was able to assist, but I doubt he really needed my help. He seemed almost as strong and at least as well armored as the Drillgar, and had those strange energy weapons on his arms. The battle with the Drillgar was tense, and at the very end he just, well, vanished. I suspect he shrunk down too small for my sensors to get a clear read.”

“So, he can change size?” Sato asked, surprised.

“Unless either he can teleport or just move too fast to see, he must be able to,” the pilot replied. “Nothing else explains how he just vanished like that.”

The reporter asked: “did you get any unusual sensor readings during the encounter?”

“There was an odd surge right when the giant first appeared. A pulse that my sensors picked up but could not identify.”

“Are you aware of the history of that location?” Sato asked, suddenly.

“It was an automotive factory from the days when all cars ran on gasoline, according to my information. It may have done some work for the military, but it was primarily commercial.”

Sato shook his head. “You have level five security clearance, correct?”

“Four, actually, why?” the pilot countered, curiosity clear in his expression.

“Then I can tell you what I found, several years ago. I did not make the connection until the events of this morning. Though the records are incomplete, and would be above my level five clearance, I managed to find it on my own and have a certificate of exemption. The site did build components for vehicles, yes, but these vehicles were meant for space exploration, and it was a key location for something called ‘The Titan Project’; I have only found speculation and rumors, not hard facts, but it strongly suggests that some of the vehicles created there were unmanned probes, and that one of these probes landed on Titan, the largest moon of Jupiter.  The documents I saw even suggest that it found an artificial structure there, and even brought something back, but no records show if that something was a biological artifact, a mechanical one, or a living creature.”

The pilot leaned forward, a puzzled expression on his face. “What exactly are you saying, here?”

“This is just a wild guess and may stem from me watching too many of the old giant monster movies, but I think the kaiju were trying to look for that location - and somehow, their presence awakened or summoned that giant to protect the site,” Sato said.

The pilot sat back. “That…. That sounds crazy but it does make an odd sort of sense. But why are high school kids allowed to explore that site then?”

Sato laughed. “The lie has been too effective. Since the real records are such a jumbled mess, nobody looked further than the official ‘it made cars’ explanation. Until I heard the reports of a battle there this morning, I had not even checked the coordinates in my notes - but I was in the middle of doing just that when my editor called and said he had scheduled this meeting. Before I shut down my research computer for the day, I was able to obtain an eighty-seven present probability match that the specific factory was the one from my notes, and a ninety-seven percent that the Titan Project was housed in one of the area factories, but possibly not that one. And a two percent chance that the project never existed.”

Wynters sat back in his chair, several thoughts warring in his head. He opened his mouth to speak when an alarm klaxon went off just as his phone rang.

He hit the speaker button and the voice of the facility head, Major Carl Pike, came over the intercom: “Wynters, we have detected at least six bogeys headed for San Francisco. I need you in standby mode, in case we need a second wing of Skylances. The first wing should be launching as we speak.”

“More Blastcrows, sir?”

“Four are definitely Blastcrows, but the fifth is moving too erratically - either it is unusually intelligent or a new type of monster. And the sixth is too large. Either a larger kaiju or a transport pod.”

“And you don’t want me in the air?” the pilot asked, surprised.

“Correct,” came the reply, “I want you ready to lead the second wave, if it is needed. We are scrambling half a dozen for the first wing and should have eight more ready soon - with any luck at all, full repairs for your ship should be done by the time we need you, if we do ‘

“Understood sir. And if I am not needed?”

“Then you can be the personal transport for our visiting reporter to see that he gets home safely,” the Commander replied.

“Very good sir. It shall be as you have commanded,” Wynters replied.

Sato took a deep breath, and then asked: “Is there somewhere we can go to monitor this incident from here?”

“Absolutely,” the pilot replied with a smile. “Follow me - your clearance level should be high enough.”

Wynters got up from his seat and hurried out of the room. Sato followed, briefly considering calling his son but deciding against it.

Quickly, the pilot showed the reporter where the gallery overlooking the control room was, and then left to put on his flight suit. Four large monitors - one showing a map of the American Continents, one showing a close-up of the California coast, and the other two showing live feeds from the Skylances approaching the site.

Sato saw something at the farthest edge of one screen first - “What’s that?”

Seeing where he was pointing, one of the techs managed to zoom in on the object, just as Wynters returned, helmet in hand. The object in question was a large silver and green humanoid who apparently could fly, but not very well. He only barely managed to avoid crashing into the bay, and did make an incredibly awkward landing on the beach.

“That, sir, is the giant I saw this morning. It looks like he is not just protecting your factory anymore.”

They watched in stunned silence as the giant used a make-shift spear to impale one Blastcrow, and engage another. There was some laughter from the control room when the giant attempted to use one Blastcrow against the other like some kind of macabre flyswatter, and some sounds of disgust when the giant literally flew through the other one.

Then the transport moved into view and opened up, discharging a gray creature that turned into a kaiju almost instantly. “Lord Kao,” Wynter said in surprise.

“The leader of their forces in the Americas?” Sato asked him quietly.

“I think so. If he has two mouths that is definitely … yeah, it’s Lord Kao. Now we’ll really see what the giant is made of!”

With a mix of dread and anticipation, the men and women in the control room watched the main battle, occasionally diverting attention to the six Starlances as they engaged and slowly destroyed the Blastcrows.

The fight was chaotic and tense, and ended with the giant forcing Lord Kao into the air above the bay - and then something exploded. Bits of one or both combatants rained down over the bay. The one remaining Blastcrow suddenly showed more speed and intelligence than was normal for its kind and took off from the battlefield faster than the Starlances could pursue.

Reports began coming through from the Starlances that the battle was over. It appeared that Lord Kao was destroyed, but they were unsure whether the giant had survived destroying it or not. Two of the pilots also mentioned that one Blastcrow seemed unusually intelligent and managed to flee the scene as the regional commander for the Exerians was destroyed.

Wynters turned to Sato: “it seems you may have a far more interesting story for your readers than just an interview with me. Would you like to stick around and talk to the other pilots as they come in, or do you need me to take you somewhere?”

“It is my son’s birthday so I should head home, but I need to check with my superiors first,” Sato replied, a touch of regret - though not even he was sure whether it was at possibly missing his son's birthday or at possibly missing the chance to meet the pilots - in his voice.

He was taken to a non-secure area and allowed to call the media conglomerate he worked for. He was transferred twice before he managed to connect with his boss, Harold Ives.

Before he could say anything, Ives opened with: “Hey Sato. Send me what you have so far. I hear you have some family stuff going on so get home and check in first thing in the morning. We may need you to come back here, but we should not need to keep you there now.”

Sato felt his mood brighten. “Thank you, sir. You should have my draft and notes in half an hour or less.”

“Good. You probably were not allowed to take video?”

“No sir - and all audio recordings must be approved by the base’s Media Relations department. I’ve already turned those over.”

“Good man, Sato. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Sato ended the call and turned to Wynter: “How soon would you be able to get me home?”

“Two hours, roughly - need to clear a transport, as we don’t have passenger seats in a Skylance. Can get a helicopter cleared faster, but they are pretty much our slowest ships.”

“A helo can get me to my house though, right? Anything else I’d have to land at the docks or in the Old City and drive over?”

“That clearance will take a little longer, but sure,” the air sergeant replied.

“Then please do that,” Sato requested.

“You might want to grab a bite in the mess hall while I await clearances. We do have the best food of any branch of the military,” Wynter told him proudly.

Sato smiled, gave the pilot a clumsy salute, and headed off to the mess hall that he remembered passing earlier. He had just finished eating when he was called in to watch the return of the Skylances, and then to board his transport home.

There was something strangely majestic about seeing a wing of Skylances rush in towards the facility, then shift into what was generally considered their combat mode to land. One at a time, each one dropped out of the sky and walked over to a charging and repair bay. The pilots all used, essentially, zip lines to exit their vessels after opening the canopies.

“Do they use a similar method to those lines for getting into the craft?” Sato asked Wynter.

“Yes - the anchor points move up to the accessway over on the other side of the room, so we are sliding down into the ships, just as we slide down out of them.”

“I hate to sound like a kid here, but that is very cool. Makes me wish I had good enough vision to be a pilot when I was younger,” Sato replied with a broad smile.

Wynter winked at him. “I was unaware of it when I signed on as a pilot, but it was the deciding factor when I applied to the Skylance program. Come on, your helicopter is waiting!”

Almost exactly one hour later, Hakama Sato climbed down a rope ladder fifteen feet to the curb in front of his house. He saw an aircar leaving the neighborhood and briefly wondered if that belonged to Senator Cummings. He walked up to the door and began fumbling in his pocket for his keys when the door opened.

“Dad! You made it!” his son greeted him.

“Of course, son,” Hakama replied. “It is your birthday - though I will have to go back tomorrow to talk to some more pilots. Did you see any of the battle over the bay this afternoon?”

“Not much. The thing my friends are calling Protector saw me trying to get to a shelter and grabbed me out of an alley, flying me to a secure building before engaging the kaiju,” Nick said. “I think I passed out or something, because the next thing I knew it was over.”

“Do you think this … Protector … blew himself up to destroy Lord Kao?” his father asked as he stepped into the house.

“I think he survived but went into some kind of stealth mode. He may be able to disguise himself as a normal person or something like that, you know.”

“So, you believe we have not seen the last of him, then?” Sato asked his son.

“I am almost one hundred percent sure that we have not, father.”

“Good, good. He definitely seems to be on our side, and we need that. Speaking of needing things - your birthday cake was delivered two minutes before your mother left for work this morning and should still be good. She will bring your present when she comes home, the day after tomorrow. I don’t know about you, kiddo, but I really need a piece of birthday cake!”

***

Interlude:

A Stormcrow stood in the audience chamber of High Lord Xiaren, towering over its master.

“You are unusually large and intelligent for one of your kind. Give me your memories,” the High Lord commanded. The creature placed its head on a platform in the chamber. The four tentacles from around the High Lord’s waist began caressing the avian-like head. When his hands stopped on the lightning pulse thrower, he declared “Ah, so now we have a clear idea of how this prototype fights. You have done well. Stand in the center of the room.”

The creature pulled away for Xiaren and looked around the room. It croaked out something that might have been a “yes” and moved to a point as close to the center as it could figure out.

The High Lord then sat on his throne. Tubes leading into the throne lit up and what appeared to be a milky white eye opened on his forehead between his two horns. This “eye” did not have a pupil, however, it had a helix design.

A white beam shot out of this “third eye” and struck the Blastcrow. It made an agonized yelp and dropped to the ground. A dark aura surrounded the creature, expanded, and then contracted. When the aura vanished, a new being stood there. It was smaller than the Blastcrow had been, only a little larger than the High Lord himself. It still retained the four eyes, black feathers and wings with hands at the main joint. Instead of the gray horn the creatures used to project lighting, it had what looked like a battle ax growing out of its head, and the body was more humanoid than avian.

“I dub thee Destrax. You are now provisional leader for the Americas. Go to your command ship and I will announce you to your personnel.”

In a very shrill, high-pitched voice, the newly named Destrax said: “I thank you my lord and obey.”

As it turned and flew out of the chamber, a figure cloaked in darkness nearby said: “Sir, we hate to second guess you but…”

“I understand Ghios. You deserve that spot, but the Prototype was originally designed to fight YOU. If the humans have it, I cannot risk you, not yet, not when so much remains to be accomplished before the Emperor arrives.”

Three voices simultaneously chimed in: “Understood, sir, but we still believe this is a mistake.”