Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Breach is closed.

Stop the clock.

~~~~

It was less than a week before the United States began contacting them for information about the jaeger technicians.

“What are their plans?” the Secretary of Defense asked. “They know so much about making weapons… how can we trust they won’t use that information for less-than-ideal purposes?”

“We assure you, we keep a close eye on our own,” Hercules Hansen said, his fist clenched so hard his nails drew blood from his palms. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to cut this call short -- we’re busy around here.”

He slapped the button to end the call, and the Secretary’s face disappeared from the screen.

The next day the Russian Prime Minister called, furious about rumors of US plotting. “They have never been happy unless they are waging war on someone else. The jaeger technicians must be put into far more capable hands--”

Herc quickly cut the call off -- “Sorry, sir, so busy around here, so busy, cleanup and all that...” -- and sat down heavily in his chair, trying not to shake. This sort of thing hadn’t happened before, had it? Stacker would have told him if they had done this before. What the fuck had they been planning after they threw that Wall up, if they were still so obviously hostile? What, had they wanted to use the remaining jaegers against each other?

The idea of Striker being sent after humans instead of monsters made him shiver, and he put off all calls for the rest of the night. When he went to bed he dreamed of holding Angela in Striker’s hand, of the metal closing over her and Chuck screaming in his head.

The next morning he and Tendo organized a conference call with the PPDC officials in an effort to calm them all down.

It went about as well as he expected. It was like reasoning with highly armed six year olds.

“The remaining jaegers are scrap metal,” Herc tried to tell them. “They can be melted down into buses and building materials--”

“How do we know none of the weaponry will fall into the wrong hands?” the Chinese Prime Minister demanded.

“Your accusations are baseless!” the United States president shot back.

“No accusations were made! Not yet, anyway.”

The president glowered at the prime minister and for a white-hot moment Herc was glad Chuck was gone. He was glad Chuck didn’t have to sit here and fumble through being a politician when he had been molded into a soldier, because god would his boy have hated it. He could see the misery of uncertainty on Raleigh and Mako, could feel it in himself, and was bitterly pleased that his son (that’s my son you’ve got there, my son) was able to go down fighting and not have to spend the rest of his life wondering what to do next.

“Sirs,” he said, and the moment was passed and he was once again trying to force kindergarten-morals onto grown men.

~~~

hated them

never lost before

how dare they

carving a tunnel through space and time and logic

more more more

how dare they

the pools open up and monsters crawl out

bigger better crueler

HOW DARE THEY

~~~

Newton Geiszler woke up screaming.

~~~

Vanessa Gottleib was sort of important. Kind of well-known. Maybe you’d heard of her. You know. The model. 

Vanessa Gottleib was planning on making her Big Comeback in the morning. Everyone was talking about it. Vanessa Gottleib debuting the Fall Fashions of 2025! Has she worked off that baby fat? Will she tell us about how her husband helped save the world? That sort of thing.

So when she was woken up by Hermann sobbing in his sleep, she was a little bit panicked and a little bit put out. She wished she had a jaeger to punch one last kaiju in the face, because honestly they waltz into the world and break into her husband’s mind and now it’s making him have a panic attack when she most needed her sleep. First of all, how dare they. Second of all, hey the phone was ringing.

“Hermann, Herm wake up, it’s just a dream, I’ve got--”

Hermann’s eyes snapped open, he bolted upright, and said, “That’s for me.”

Vanessa frowned, then picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Vanessa hi how are you wow haha it’s early sorry is Hermann there?”

“It’s two in the morning, Newton,” she said.

“I’m so sorry, darling, it’s for me, I’m sorry,” Hermann said, reaching for the phone. She held it out of his reach, giving him a stern look. “Vanessa. Please.”

“Newton, Hermann needs his rest,” she said. “I need my rest. The baby needs her rest. You need your rest. Rest for everyone.”

“Okay yeah I totally understand completely right but can you ask Hermann if he’s been having nightmares?”

Vanessa opened her mouth, closed it, then handed the phone to Hermann. “It’s for you.”

Hermann kissed her cheek and took the phone, his hands still shaking. “Newton? Yes. Slow down. Yes.”

He struggled to get out of bed, and Vanessa reached over to help him with the covers. He smiled at her, then grabbed his cane with his free hand and shuffled out to sit in the living room. “Yes, I… very vivid, that’s right.”

Vanessa considered. Newton and Hermann had been calling each other quite often over the summer, soothing each other over nightmares. She could go back to sleep and wake up tomorrow ready to do her job as the only currently-employed person in this house. Hermann was fine without her. She was the breadwinner, here, now that the kaiju were gone and he hadn’t gotten another job. Her debut was more important than his nightmare, wasn’t it?

Vanessa Gottlieb called her publicist and set the debut back another week.

~~~

Hermann was always giving Newt a hard time about Hannibal Chau.

Newt could understand the sentiment, because he’d been working really hard lately on seeing things from Hermann’s point of view. Apparently being on speed-dial basis with a notorious criminal was dangerous? Being a consulting kaiju expert for a notorious criminal was even more dangerous? When he thought long and hard about it, these assertions actually made a lot of sense. However, Newton Geiszler had an unfortunate habit of never thinking long and hard about anything but the kaiju.

“The hell, kid? I told you not to call in these hours,” Hannibal growled over the phone when Newt called him.

“Yeah, I totally get it, big guy,” Newt replied. “I’ve just got a question. Sort of urgent. Sort of life-or-death.”

“I’m not buyin’ you one of those goddamn kaiju toys,” Hannibal said.

“One, they are not toys, they are action figures crafted from actual kaiju bone, so shut up,” Newt said. “Two, that’s not what I’m calling you about.”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, then he said something to someone in the background that Newt didn’t catch. It took him a little while before he actually responded. “Okay, kid, life or death, callin’ me when I told you not to. What’s your deal?”

“I was wondering if you and your guys managed to save Baby’s brain,” Newt blurted into the receiver. “Or if you have any secondary brains preserved--”

“Kid, you’re the one who told me that drifting was what burned the kaiju brains out faster,” Hannibal said irritably. “You know I don’t got that damn thing’s brain floatin’ around here somewhere, you and that other geek blew it out.”

“Okay, that was a stupid question,” Newt admitted. “But any other brains? Just? Floating around there somewhere? Or do you know where I can find one myself?”

“Newton. Shut the fuck up and stop calling me during business hours.”

“No-no-no-no don’t hang up! Me and Hermann think there could be a secondary breach opening up soon and we don’t know when or where but we need a brain to make su--”

“Wait. Shut up. What?” And once again he had Hannibal’s full attention. “Run that by me again, little fella. Slowly.”

“Me and Hermann -- Hermann and I, over the past few months we’ve been having nightmares of the dimension beyond the Breach,” Newton explained, trying to keep his voice from picking up too much speed. “At first we thought it was just, you know, PTSD or something, because haha that place is literally hell, but now we’re thinking we might actually still be ghost-drifting with the kaiju hive-mind. We can’t make out anything concrete, but we can pick up on some serious vengeful plotty feelings, and… and I just want to make sure they’re actually gone.”

There was another long moment of silence, then: “You’re still in Hong Kong, ain’tcha?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And Hermann?”

“He’s in England with Vanessa and Adriana. Their daughter, I’ve mentioned--”

“Have you heard of Slater Irons, Newt?”

~~~

You’ll always find me in the drift.

~~~

Mako Mori woke up with tears on her face.

Her hand reached out blindly in the dark, and her whole body relaxed when she found Raleigh, rolled over to the opposite side of the bed. He had taken most of the covers with him. Jerk.

She twisted and squirmed over to him, throwing her arm over his side and pressing her face to the back of his neck, breathing in the smell of him, warm and mild. His hand closed over hers. “Mako?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

His hand tightened and he murmured in Japanese. “Dreams again?”

She nodded against his skin, trying not to sniffle. She didn’t need to elaborate, didn’t need to explain how hard it was, how much she missed him -- Raleigh had been there with her, felt the reverberations of Stacker’s death echoing through her soul. He knew.

Still, it was a comfort to have him roll over and wrap her up in his arms and murmur soothing nothings in her ear.

The next morning they were back to working with Herc on the suddenly tenuous Pan-Pacific Alliance. She found herself leaning against Raleigh a lot. She’d noticed herself doing that much more frequently, lately. They were both always so tired, when she had previously been driven and he had been a notorious insomniac. It worried her a little, and she could tell Raleigh was concerned, as well.

“We should see the psychiatrist,” Mako finally said. “To see if this is something… something serious.”

To see if they were sick. Raleigh nodded and didn’t press for an explanation, and they hunted down Doctor Carmen Ortega.

Even eight months after the Breach’s close, the Hong Kong Shatterdome was full of people working, everything from finishing up paperwork to breaking down the remains of the last jaegers. Dr. Ortega, one of the psyche analysts from all the way back in the Mark 3 days, was no exception.

By all logic Ortega had the least reason to be here; she had already been working with Herc, Mako, and Raleigh since January, all her paperwork on their varied emotional and psychological scars had to be mostly filled out by now. But sure enough she was in her office, playing a game on her phone and looking happy to see them when they walked in on her.

“Oh! I’m glad you’re here, I was just finishing up a file,” she lied, closing up Walrus Tag and sliding her phone back into her pocket. “What can I do for you?”

Mako looked to Raleigh, embarrassed, and he quickly answered. “Me and Mako have had trouble sleeping, lately -- been fatigued but couldn’t get to sleep properly, that sort of thing…”

He fumbled through an explanation while Mako ducked her head, grateful to him for being able to admit all this when it made her feel so weak.

When Raleigh was done, Ortega hummed and leaned back in her seat. “Fatigue. Listlessness. Sounds like standard ennui to me.”

“What?” Raleigh asked.

“You’re saying we’re bored?” Mako tried not to sound irritated. “That’s ridiculous.”

“You have both spent the last ten years with a specific goal in mind,” Ortega said. “Mako, you wished to avenge your family. Raleigh, you wished to make up for the loss of your brother. Then, of course, there’s the underlying tension all jaeger pilots feel with regards to the war. Now… the war is over. Your personal goals are, from what you’ve told me, satisfied. Though perhaps you haven’t said it out loud or admitted it to yourselves, deep down you are both wondering what comes next. And it’s negatively affecting your sleeping habits and possibly your overall health. That is my off-duty psyche assessment. Take it with a grain of salt, if you wish.”

She leaned towards them over the table, black eyes suddenly intense. “But please. Do take it into consideration. Plan for the future and don’t let it barrel over you. I’ve always said, peacetime will ruin soldiers the way war never could.”

~~~

“I don’t see how you managed to rope me into this,” Hermann said irritably. “Vanessa had to--”

“Yes, for the love of god, yes, Vanessa had to put her premiere on hold, holy shit, dude, I get it,” Newt shot back. “One, she did that out of the generosity of her beautiful soul, I didn’t ask her to do it, and two, I just suggested you come with me to San Francisco. Absolutely nobody is twisting your arm here, man.”

“Well, I can’t very well let you march into another crime-lord’s lair by yourself again,” Hermann grumbled.

“I’m fine, Hermann. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I am in fact a grown man. Who can do grown man things. All by himself. Alone.”

“Shut up, Newton,” he said.

“Sheesh. Lighten up, Hermann, we’ll be totally fine. Besides, with Kae-lin here, they won’t be able to pull guns on us unless they want a total gang-war or whatever.” Newton looked to Kae-lin, the bald female bodyguard Hannibal had assigned to him. “Right? That’s right, isn’t it?”

Kae-lin gave him an exasperated look, and Newton tried not to wince. Okay, maybe he was being a bit too optimistic? But still. Fortes fortuna adiuuat.

He wondered if fortune also favored the stupidly persistent.

The San Francisco XZ was just as crowded and confusing as Hong Kong, if not more so. Cars hadn’t had space in Frisco for years, and foot-traffic had evolved into winding bridges (all painted gold in some weird nostalgic call-back to the Golden Gate Bridge) and steps crossing over and under each other in a barely navigable maze. At least here Newt knew the local language.

“J and Madison?” he shouted in the face of passerby. “Are we near J and Madison?”

They either shooed him off or directed him, Hermann, and Kae-lin deeper into the city. “Pass by the antique shop!” “No, they sell antique computers, ya putz!” “Where they got typewriters on the wall, find there and you’ll be on J heading to Madison.”

“Oh! I found the typewriters!” Hermann shouted suddenly, smacking Newton’s shins with his cane and pressing his face to the glass front of an antique computer store. “Well, they really are hanging typewriters off the walls. Peculiar.”

“Okay, so we’re on J, heading to -- oh my god, of course Madison is a second story street,” Newton sighed. “Okay, you ready for the stairs, Hermann?”

Hermann grimaced and batted away Newton’s helping hands. “I can climb them on my own, Newton, I am not a child.”

“Fine. Be that way! Me and Kae-lin will see you at the top,” Newton said, jogging up the first few steps. There was a twinge of bitterness in the back of his mind, and he immediately felt bad and turned back to where Hermann was grasping the railing and pulling himself up. “Okay, come on, you big baby, let me help you.”

There was much grumbling, but Hermann seemed relieved when Newton helped him get to the top without slipping. Kae-lin was waiting patiently for them, and when they reached her she pointed to yet another antique shop. How many antique shops did they need in San Francisco?

“Slater Irons’ symbol is hidden on that shop sign,” Kae-lin explained. “That’s where we’re heading.”

Hermann grimaced, and Newt clapped him on the back. “C’mon, buddy. Big damn hero time!”

Kae-lin held the door open for them, and Newton led Hermann to the clerk, a young woman chewing gum and flicking through a magazine. “Hi. We’re from Hannibal Chau, we’re here to see Slater Irons?”

The clerk stared at him for a long moment, then smiled. One of her teeth was gold with a diamond embedded in the center. “You came to the right place, mister. Right this way.”

She beckoned them behind the counter, then into the cramped back room. “Hannibal called yesterday. Said to be expecting you. Didn’t expect you so early, though.” She blew a bubble with her bright blue gum, then sucked it back into her mouth with a snap. She shoved some boxes aside, then swept her hand behind a bookshelf. There was a metallic whirring sound as the wall shifted and then lifted away, revealing a brightly-lit entryway decked out in forest green. “Head down there. Someone’s gonna take you to Slater.”

“Thanks,” Newt said as Hermann tried not to look fascinated by the mechanics of the secret door. Kae-lin was clenching her gun-hand to keep from reaching for her weapon.

Newt led them down the hall and into Slater Irons’ lair.

It wasn’t as exciting as he had been expecting.

Of course it would be unreasonable to expect anything even comparing to his first impression of Hannibal’s shop, since there hadn’t been new kaiju specimens for months, now, and none in the Pacific Americas region in even longer. But still. The near silence, the minimal amount of containers bearing interesting monster guts… it was a bit of a let-down.

The room was huge, though, rectangular and sparse while Hannibal’s lair was round and luxurious, with long tables down either side with tools and containers and workers picking at what little they had. A few of them looked up from their work, but they seemed largely disinterested in the three newcomers.

A man in a black suit was overseeing the progress, and he looked up and smiled at them. “Ah, you’re here from Hannibal Chau, right?”

“Ah, yes,” Newt said. “Are you Slater Irons?”

“Me? Haha, no, I’m just the poor lackey put in charge of these morons.” He smacked his hand down on the table, and the closest worker jumped. “Make sure they don’t scamper off with anything too important, you know? Of course, Jennifer up front helps with that, too, haha. I can take you to Slater, though. I’m sure nobody’s stupid enough to try anything while my back’s turned, ain’t that right, kids?”

He smiled at the workers, and they did their best to ignore him. “That’s what I thought. Right this way, please.”

He waved them further in, leading them into an office done up in the same silver and forest green of the entryway. “Slater, Hannibal’s folks are here to see you.”

An East Asian woman sat behind an enormous desk, not looking up from her paperwork. “Huh.”

“Here about the kaiju brain,” the man reminded her.

“Uhuh.” She signed off on a piece of paper, then moved onto the next. “Be with you in a minute.”

“Feel free to take a seat,” the man in the black suit said, gesturing to the two seats in front of the desk. “She’ll be with you shortly.”

Newt and Hermann sat down and Kae-lin remained standing, her body angled so she could look between the man in the suit -- who lingered by the door -- and the woman at the desk.

“That’s Slater Irons?” Hermann asked.

“Yeah, dude, obviously.” Newton looked back at black-suit man. “Right?”

After about forty-five seconds (Newt was staring at Hermann’s wrist watch), the woman looked up and folded her hands in front of her. “So. Hannibal Chau calls me yesterday. Tells me he’s sending a couple of nerds and a trained killer over to weasel me out of my last kaiju brain. Now tell me, kids -- what’s that about?”

“It’s classified PPDC information,” Newton said. “Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.”

Slater Irons stared at him.

“But it is pretty cool, so to be honest I do really want to tell you,” Newton admitted.

Slater Irons stared at him.

“Okay, I’ll tell you,” Newton said, and Hermann sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

~~~

Slater Irons did not want to part with her last kaiju secondary-brain. And she was clearly fond of cruel and unusual punishment, because she showed it to them as she turned them down.

“Jesus, it’s in mint condition!” Newt almost sobbed, reaching for it. Black-suit man -- who Slater referred to as John -- held up a hand, and Kae-lin snatched Newt back out of harm’s way. “How long have you had it? How do you keep it in mint condition like this?”

“Ancient family recipe,” Slater said, her voice deadpan. “And this thing will go for billions. But you’re expecting me to just… hand it over.”

“For, like, the good of humanity and stuff, though!” Newton protested.

“Oh, the good of humanity? Really? John, what do we care for the good of humanity, here?” Slater asked.

“Absolutely fuck-all, boss,” John said.

“Right! I had almost forgotten. Thank you, John.”

“No problem, boss,” John said.

“Miss Irons,” Hermann said, holding one hand out in a placating gesture. “We have explained to you the risk of a secondary Breach. Should this theory, god forbid, prove correct… We would be happy to tell you the result first, as well as tell you where the next one would open, to give you a headstart in moving your operation to a more… plentiful… location.”

Slater appraised him for a moment, then shook her head. “And if this theory is incorrect? Then I’m down one brain with no hopes of ever getting another. And then I’m angry and distressed. Incredibly distressed, Doctor Gottlieb.”

Newton hadn’t taken his eyes off the brain during this whole exchange, but at this point he whipped around with a delighted grin on his face. “If you give us this brain and the theory is incorrect, we’ll hook you up with a neural bridge!”

“Newton!” Hermann hissed.

Slater Irons smiled, baring strong white teeth in a wolfy grin. “Deal.”

~~~

Newton had a lot of respect for Chloe Carmichael, partially because she was almost six feet tall and built like a brick house, but mostly because she never seemed to mind him as much as the other jaeger technicians he had met. Honestly, he wasn’t too surprised by the engineers being put off by him -- he had his whole body painted with the monsters they were building robots to fight, after all -- but it still felt good to have a lady like Chloe treat him like he wasn’t a total freak.

“”The Marshal said you’ll be needin’ a right sturdy piece a’ machinery,” she said, cheerful as ever. Her heavy Scottish accent was even thicker with excitement. “Somethin’ sturdy enough to drift with a kaiju! He told me that and I said to him, ‘now sod off, Marshal, he doesn’t got a brain to drift with!’ Ehehe, I didn’t mean it unkindly, of course, but Beckham thought it was a right clever slip! Didn’t you, Beckham?”

Beckham Burnett didn’t look like she’d thought anything was funny in her entire life. Everything about her was even more intimidating than her lab partner, even though she was a bit shorter than Newt himself. Her bright red hair was ironed into absolute submission in a way that nearly hid her eyes while Chloe’s tight curls were pulled up out of her face; her skin was ghost-pale and freckled while Chloe’s was a smooth warm brown; and while Chloe looked like she took clothing advice from Tendo, complete with bow-tie, Beckham was dressed in plain grey boilersuit under a labcoat and a wrecking-ball pendant hanging around her neck.

She stared up at the kaiju brain with her lips pursed, her heavily-lined eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You really gonna drift with that?”

“If he’s not, I’ve been woefully misled,” Slater Irons said, her arms crossed over her chest. She had insisted on accompanying Newt and Hermann back to Hong Kong, along with a small entourage of bodyguards. Marshal Hansen’s grimace got deeper whenever she spoke.

“Me and Hermann are gonna drift with it, yep,” Newton said, following after Chloe as she made the final adjustment on the specialized Pons system. “So this will…?”

“It’s modified from a Mark Five Pons system,” Chloe said. “Beckham knows more about the bridge than I do, but I’m just tightenin’ up the screws as it were!”

“This bridge will be able to handle a much heavier neural load,” Beckham said, her apathy fading a little as she got to talk about what was clearly her area of expertise. “It’s actually inspired by my designs for what could have been a Mark Six. In a jaeger it would have made drifting much easier for pilots with less drift compatibility and--”

“Once this little exercise is over, I’d be glad to buy that piece of machinery off of you, Miss Burnett,” Slater said.

“Doctor,” Chloe and Beckham said in unison. Chloe shot Slater a critical look, then returned to her work.

“And it’s not mine to sell,” Beckham said. “It’s PPDC property. Technically.”

“Ah, of course. My apologies, Doctor Burnett. Of course I won’t press you,” Slater said in a tone that clearly said she would leave her pressing to a later date. Herc looked like he was going to be frowning for the rest of his life.

“Alright, Beckham, be a dear and double-check this for me, would you?” Chloe asked. Beckham went to the Pons, running her hands over it and sticking her face up close to examine every single piece.

“Looks good to me,” she finally announced. Newton and Hermann looked at each other, then stepped forward to the twin headsets Beckham and Chloe had crafted for them.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Herc asked. “Are you sure this is worth the risk?”

Newt hesitated.

“The risk is a bit of discomfort now versus a renewed kaiju attack we are unprepared for later,” Hermann said, expression grim as he settled the headset into position. “Ready for drift sequence.”

Newton let out a breath, then put his own headset on. “Okay. Human-to-kaiju drift sequence initiated. Three. Two…”

One.

~~~

burning

burn it all

tear it down

we need it

can’t breathe

children lost children weeping

build the monsters higher

the child’s eyelids lower, its mandibles chitter

we need it

WE NEED IT

~~~

“Newton, Hermann -- dammit, get it off of them!”

Newt fumbled, reached out, and Hermann’s fingers entwined with his.

“Got you,” Hermann choked, and Newt looked up and everything was blurry and but there wasn’t blood so hey Burnett and Carmichael’s system was pretty state of the art if you asked him pretty damn nice everything was burning that tech was amazing the children were dying he wondered if they would keep being engineers because really they were brilliant the humans had to pay.

“Okay, so,” Newton said. “We may have a slight problem.”

Chapter Text

~~~

Shay Boone was at the gym when the story came on the tv installed in the corner of the ceiling. It caught her eye, and she grabbed the punching bag she had been wailing on to bring it to a stop. “Hey! Turn that up!”

Someone obeyed -- she had a voice that tended to get that immediate obedience, which had served her well as the fightmaster of the Anchorage Kwoon -- and the newscaster’s voice was suddenly blasting throughout the room.

“--reboot will cost so much of our already tight budget--”

“Oh, yes, Carl, I’m sure the budget means more to you than a giant sea monster stomping all over your house--”

“I’ll be goddamned,” Shay said, and then she picked up her bag and walked out.

She found her cell-phone -- a dinky ugly thing from ‘23, she had to get a new one soon -- and called Tendo Choi.

“Tendo,” she said. “You’ve been holding out on me, my man.”

He laughed. On her phone it was a buzz of static. “I thought you were retired, Shay.”

“Um. Rude. I was laid off.” She hiked her duffel bag more securely onto her shoulder. “I actually called you to ask for a favor.”

“I don’t think I owe you a favor.”

“I totally hooked you up with Alison!”

“No, you said, and I quote, ‘if you don’t go for it I will.’”

“Aaaand that totally gave you the incentive. You owe me.”

Tendo laughed again. “You refuse to ever be wrong, don’t you?”

“Basically. Where do I go to sign up for the new program?”

“You coming back as a fightmaster?”

“Think I’ll give piloting another go. Might actually find a drift partner this time.”

He snorted. “You?”

“Hey, how’s Rafe? You know, the precious perfect child that wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for my ingenious matchmaking and cunning machinations.”

“Oh, that one?”

“Yes. That one.”

“He’s fine. Walkin’ around. Alison says he’s gonna be a technical genius.”

“Please tell me she’s got him building things. Tell me he’s a wonder child.”

“Well, they took apart the remote and are still having trouble putting it back together.”

“This woman literally had the fate of the Jaeger Program in her hands for, like, three years.” Possibly more, actually, but Shay was only counting when Alison was Chief Munitions Officer of Hydra Corinthian. Which, in her humble opinion, were Hydra’s best years.

“Apparently remotes are much more complicated than human-sized bullets.”

“I bet. Tendo…”

“Alright, alright, don’t go whining in my ear.” She could hear the smile in his voice, just like it had been back when they’d watch stupid movies in the canteen at the Alaska Dome. “Where are you at now?”

“Still in Cali. Down in Anaheim.”

“Can you reach LAX by March twenty-fifth? That’s when the Program is paying for recruits to fly to Panama from your area.”

“Panama? I thought the Panama Dome was sold off to some rich weirdo or something,” Shay said.

“No, it was handed over to some government officials, who gladly handed it back after about four months of hard-core begging and some bribes.”

“Oho, bribes? Has your impeccable virtue finally been compromised, Mister Choi?”

“Haha. You’re hilarious. No, we have some benefactors, who I am not at liberty to name.”

“Inspirational. I’ll be happy to meet them once I get to Panama.”

“Alright, then. I’ll put you on the list. We’ll be expecting you at the end of the month.”

Shay smiled. “I’ll be there.”

~~~

Nasrin Pelayo was not in shipping and she was not in moving. She was not a laborer. She was a specialist. She was Jaeger-tech.

“Nas, I thought you went to the Kwoon, like, every day,” one of the squints said as Nasrin struggled under a thirty-pound box of equipment.

“One. I haven’t been able to, lately. Two. I’ve been doing this all morning. Three. I will drop this on your face,” she wheezed, staggering over to drop it out in the hall. She shuffled back to flop into her desk chair. “That’s the last of mine, Alhamdulillah. The actual movers will be by with a dolly in an hour.”

“Are you really gonna try for pilot?” the boy pressed. “I figured you’d stay in engineering.”

“I might end up back here,” she said. “But I am going to join the Academy. Remind myself if I have what it takes, you know?”

“Oh come on, you just want to punch a kaiju.”

“How dare you doubt my sincerity. Also yes. Yes I do.” She leaned back in her chair. “It’s so… stressful. Being an engineer. I mean, obviously we aren’t going out and fighting monsters ourselves, but the people who do fight rely on us completely. I’m tired of sitting back and wondering if my designs will hold up or tear apart. I’d much rather be the one going out there and testing the material, if you know what I mean.”

The boy -- Mark? yes, Mark something or other -- tilted his head curiously. “Did you apply for pilot training before?”

“I did. Was one of the best in my class, too, if it weren’t for the fact that I wasn’t drift compatible with any of my fellow students.” Nasrin smiled. “Apparently that’s kind of important.”

Mark snickered. “From what I hear, yeah. You think you might find a drift partner this time around?”

“Who knows? It’s worth a shot. If I don’t find a copilot, I’ll just be back here building again, nothing lost.” She looked at him, then scowled when she saw him sitting on one of the boxes he was supposed to be moving. “You’ve been just sitting on your ass every chance you get, you lazy moron! Get back to work.”

He leapt to obey, and Nasrin leaned back in her chair.

Drift compatibility had been perfected over the years, made into a careful conglomeration of screening tests and physical trials -- hell, Mori had chosen a bunch of potential candidates for Becket before they even dug him out of whatever hole he had crawled into -- but it was still so hit-and-miss. Her likelihood of finding a partner was just as slim now as it was when she was eighteen. Luckily, she would have a greater chance of making the cut from her years of actually working in the program. Knowing all the subject material before classes even started would definitely be a bonus.

Of course, this relied on her being strong enough to meet the physical qualifications. She had kept up training in the Kwoon all throughout her career as an engineer, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was Ranger-level fit.

She cracked her neck, then got up to make her way to the Kwoon. Maybe the Hong Kong fightmaster was still around to give her a few pointers.

~~~

“I heard they’ve known since last year.”

Maximilian Jones tried very hard not to snoop. As usual, he was failing. His mother insisted that was why he was so good at figuring out people’s intentions with nothing but the barest of context clues -- it was a skill gained from years of eavesdropping in the middle of conversations.

“Last year? When?”

“I was hearin’ round September.”

“Sweet fuck! It’s nearly April!”

“Fuckin’ scumbags. Always keeping us a step behind, I swear to god.” One of the chatting women looked up, saw Max, and waved him over. “Sweetheart, could I get another water?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said immediately, picking up her glass and hurrying to the counter to refill her drink. He sifted through the possible topics before settling on what he realized was painfully obvious, and when he dropped off her drink he decided to loiter. “Did you hear about them restarting the Jaeger Program?”

Water-lady’s companion widened her eyes and threw her hands up. “That’s just what we were talkin’ about!”

Nailed it.

“I heard they knew about this secondary Breach since September,” water-lady told him. “But could they be fucking -- I’m sorry -- could they be bothered to tell anyone? Nope!”

“Why tell us anything, after all,” her friend said, rolling her eyes.

“So you really think there’s a chance of another Breach?” Max asked.

“Do I look like a scientist to you, honey?” water-lady asked. “All I know is the Jaeger Program was right about the Wall and they saved the whole damn world while the suits put everything between them and the kaijus.”

Kaiju, Max didn’t correct her.

“‘No sooner is the Breach closed,’” her friend read from her newspaper. “It’s been a year, asshole! Sorry, but it’s been a year! Wonder whose side this dumb f-- uh, fool’s on.”

Max laughed and excused himself back to the counter, and they went back to their conversation.

He had lived in New York his whole life and he had never seen the people around him so hopped up on the Jaeger Program, except maybe when they were buying toys or games or snacks that were jaeger/kaiju themed. But even then, that particular sentiment had been fading for a while.

If the program was reopening, where were they planning on having it? So far as Max knew -- and he admittedly was a huge nerd for the Jaeger Program -- the Alaska Academy was sold to some rich collector or something, as were most of the Shatterdomes with the obvious exception of Hong Kong.

The bell over the door rang, and Max looked up to see his boyfriend storming in, a determined expression on his face. Max smiled automatically, because it was easier to smile than have Kyle interrogate him about ‘what was wrong.’

“Where were you? I told you to call me last night,” Kyle accused. Max’s smile withered.

“I did,” he said. “You didn’t pick up.”

“Why didn’t you--”

“You didn’t pick up the second or third time I tried, either.”

“Yeah?” Kyle demanded, yanking his phone out of his pocket. “Then why didn’t you text-- oh.”

“Yeah.” Max went back to wiping down the counter, grimacing when Kyle leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. There was a woman sitting at the counter, and she raised her eyebrows at Max as if to encourage him to tell Kyle to fuck off. Max ignored her.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Kyle said. “God, I feel like such an ass.”

Max didn’t answer. Kyle’s eyes fell to the newspaper the woman sitting at the counter was reading. “Oh, Christ, have you seen this bullshit?”

Max glanced at him, then returned his attention to the counter. “Hm.”

“God, they’ll do anything to get money out of our pockets,” Kyle complained. “If the secondary Breach was such a big deal, why hasn’t it opened up yet?”

“I guess inter-dimensional travel can be a bit slow-going,” Max suggested. Kyle gave him a dirty look.

“God, you aren’t seriously this naive. Like, I knew you were really gullible. But not this gullible.”

Max shrugged.

“Jesus, Max, when are you going to finally grow up? I can’t be looking out for you all the time,” Kyle scolded. “Why do I even put up with you? God, why won’t you even answer me?”

“I have to finish cleaning up, here,” Max said. “I’ll talk to you after work. Okay?”

Kyle bristled, then shook his head and walked back out of the restaurant, waving one hand as if he was trying to clear away smoke.

The woman sitting at the counter looked from the door to Max, and she raised her eyebrows seriously.

“Sugar,” she said, “dump his ass.”

Max sighed and went back to work.

~~~

Rebel Kaur was basically your go-to girl for jaeger stats. Jaegers were her passion. They were her dream. Like all modern girls, she grew up with posters of Tamsin Sevier and Caitlin Lightcap (especially Caitlin Lightcap) on her walls, and she still had her ‘notes’ from childhood on the kaiju that came through the Breach -- ‘yamarashi was ugly and a million feet high! and then gipsy danger SMASHED IT yay!’ She was hugely into the jaeger-gal subculture that had carried over from Japan (ahem, yega-gyaru, thank you very much), and obsessively haunted the jaeger-gal forums for any statistics or theories she might have missed.

Of course, being seventeen at the time of the Jaeger Program’s close meant she never got a chance to actually become a jaeger pilot the way she had always wanted. She had always been too young to legally go without her mother’s permission. Living in Bangalore, India, so far from the Pacific, certainly didn’t help either.

But now…

“They’re paying for air-fare to Panama today,” she told her mother. “I’m going to try to be a jaeger pilot.”

Sushma stiffened up, but didn’t look away from her paperwork. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, darling.”

Rebel’s brow furrowed. “Why not? I thought you liked the jaeger program.”

“Well, yes. In the early years of the war, they were our only line of defense,” Sushma allowed. “And clearly they closed up the Pacific Breach. But I… I just don’t think the pilot life would suit you, Rebel.”

“Mama--”

“I don’t want you going,” Sushma said simply, finally looking up at her. Rebel pulled back a little. Her mother looked angry. Not confused, not concerned. Angry.

“Mama, this is something important,” she said. “I mean, I know so much about the jaegers and the kaiju just from studying, and I’m physically fit enough -- it would be -- I mean, I’m practically obligated to give it a shot, right? They need all the recruits they can get, and if I don’t find a drift partner I could still be an engineer or something--”

"I don't see what the big deal is," Sushma said. "We have the time -- we can build a wall around the Atlantic coasts, too."

"Mutavore broke through the Wall in less than an hour, Mama," Rebel said.

"Ugh, why do you know all their names?" Sushma demanded. "And the jaegers, too, and their pilots--"

"Mama--" Rebel started.

"Like that, that -- what was it -- the newest -- Striker Eureka! That Striker Eureka and Chuck Hansen, oh you loved Chuck Hansen, and look what happened to--"

"Mama!" Rebel shrieked.

Sushma stared at her, distress clear on her face. "Rebel, I -- Rebel, where are you going?”

Rebel didn’t answer, snatching up her jacket and her backpack and nearly bolting out of their apartment.

She was at the airport in less than an hour, and she realized as she put her bag through security that she had forgotten her Adderall at home.

Caitlin Lightcap had OCD and struggled with depression, and she could still pilot, she told herself as she boarded the plane. There were a handful of other people with her, spread out and clinging to the window seats. She seated herself at the back.

If the developer of the Pons system and one of the first jaeger pilots ever could handle OCD and depression in the drift, Rebel could handle a little ADHD. She wouldn’t screw this up.

She couldn’t screw this up.

~~~

Quinn and Avery Barcenas sat on the beach and looked out over the Pacific Ocean.

Quinn held a kaiju toy in her hand. Avery held a jaeger toy in his.

“It’s about damn time they restarted the Academy,” Quinn said, and Avery laughed.

“We’ve got two hours to get to LAX,” he said.

“It’s only fifteen minutes away,” his twin replied. “We’ve got time.

They watched the ocean, trying to ignore the wall looming at the edge of their vision. It was such a fuck-ugly thing. It was probably going to be converted into some sort of apartment complex or mall or something. But it would always be hideous.

“I know… she didn’t want us joining up,” Quinn said after a few minutes. “But it… we have to do something, don’t we?”

Avery considered, then punched her in the arm. “Quit acting like you’re having serious second thoughts. We’ve been wanting to be pilots since we were ten.”

“I’ve wanted us to be pilots since we were ten,” Quinn said. “I was never sure about you. You always just kind of went with what I was saying, and I don’t think I ever actually asked you if you wanted to.”

“I went with it because I wanted to,” Avery said. “Don’t be dumb. You were never able to drag me into anything I really didn’t want to do.”

“You went along with everything I said! Always!”

“Yeah, because what you said was cool or smart or logical. Quit treating me like a fucking idiot, you jerk.”

Quinn laughed and flopped back onto the sand. “You’re so supportive. It’s beautiful. You should write books on dealing with stress, Ave.”

“Oh, yes, definitely. I will become very famous and go to book-signings and will have to, you know, support you in your old age with my hard-earned money.”

“Of course. And I’ll punch out critics and be, like… your bodyguard and stuff.”

“Fantastic. Our whole future is unfolding before us, Quinn.”

“Yes it is, Avery. Yes it is.”

They looked at each other, then immediately spluttered with laughter, Avery dropping onto the sand beside her and Quinn smacking at his arm playfully.

“We’re good to go?” she asked when they quieted down. Avery reached out and clasped her hand with his.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re good to go.”

~~~

Nizhoni Hunter was a bit of a jaeger fan.

A bit. Not, like, obsessed, or anything. Nah. She just had blueprints of every jaeger to date up in her shop. She liked looking at them when she was taking breaks from fixing cars. It was a hobby.

So when she heard about the Jaeger Program reopening, her first thought was becoming a jaeger engineer.

It would be amazing. She already had some designs she had been playing with. For a laugh, you know. Nothing serious.

She packed up her blueprints and closed up her shop. It was three hours from her house in Tuba City to Sky Harbor Airport, where the program was paying for flights to Panama.

She boarded a Greyhound and spent the ride sketching jaegers. She got in about three -- which she impulsively named Strider Juno, Hyena Novice, and Venus Cannon -- before she reached the airport.

The Jaeger Program booth was easy to find, mostly because everyone seemed to be avoiding it. The pair running it were talking to each other and looking bored, and Nizhoni sighed heavily before approaching.

“How’s it going?” she asked them, and the girl looked up to smile at her.

“Slow,” she replied. “You’re the only person who showed up so far, actually. If you are here to sign up and not tell us to bug off, of course.”

“You get people telling you to leave?” Nizhoni asked.

“Yep,” the boy put in. “Some guy came around telling us to let up because the new breach is probably fake because… conspiracies, I guess?”

“That’s a reason,” the girl said, rolling her eyes. “They think we’re just trying to steal their hard earned tax dollars.”

“Huh.” Nizhoni never thought she’d be better off living on the reservation, but apparently the Navajo Nation’s taxes weren’t too badly influenced by the war. Well. That was nice, she supposed. “I’m here to sign up, so no worries.”

“Fuckin’ sweet,” the boy said, and the girl slugged him on the shoulder.

“What are you signing on for?” the girl asked, pulling out a sheet of paper.

“Well, I’m a mechanic by trade,” Nizhoni said. “But I figured I’d try to be a pilot. If that fails I can just work in engineering, right?”

“Yep, that’s how it works,” the girl agreed.

“Coming in without a partner?” the boy asked.

“Yeah.”

The girl scribbled some stuff down, checked a few boxes, then slid the paper over to Nizhoni. “You can fill the rest of it out on the plane. Once you get to the Academy, you’ll turn it in to the head office and they’ll start up a file for you, which’ll hold test scores, progress reports, all that. Welcome to the Jaeger Program.”

Nizhoni smiled thinly and took the page. “Happy to join.”

~~~

Devanshi Misra had been studying kaiju since Trespasser came through when she was twenty. She had been a k-scientist at the Nagasaki Shatterdome, and while she hadn’t done anything exciting like, oh, drift with a kaiju (seriously that was the dumbest fucking thing she had ever heard and now it would be the most famous thing ever she hated that man with such a vicious angry passion), she had done her job well. She had picked monsters apart and found consistent weak spots for the pilots to target. She had pulled skin parasites out of the chinks in jaeger armor and studied them as best she could -- they died so quickly without their host, but didn’t decompose at nearly the same rate and seemed to be carbon-based rather than silicone, which was so strange…

And yet when the time came for the PPDC higher-ups to make a decision, they elected to lay off thousands of workers -- Devanshi included -- and hide behind their shitty walls.

Now the program was rebooting and she was going to be first in line to join the Academy to become a pilot. She supposed it would be easier to just go back to k-science, but… Piloting felt like something she had to try. If she didn’t make the cut, she would get a position as a scientist again. Being unable to handle drifting or find a partner meant you were qualified for officer-rank in the program.

She arrived in Panama the day the Academy opened, and she watched her fellow recruits with a critical eye.

Young and old from all over the world, some clearly rich Atlantic Coasters while others obviously from the Pacific, all looking tense and clearly eager.

The Ranger Academy introduction started out in the entry room of the building. It was a large corridor, able to accommodate all two hundred recruits.

The doors slammed open and the Marshal walked in.

Marshal Hercules Hansen was rugged-looking, dressed down in tan and dark green fatigues, worn-down leather boots on his feet and a set of dog tags around his neck. A wrinkled bulldog clicked along beside him, and when the Marshal came to a stop the dog dropped down to sit and stare up at the recruits.

The Marshal looked at them for a moment, then sighed.

"I'm Marshal Hercules Hansen," he said. "Welcome to the Academy. I expect about half of you will be heading home this evening."

Devanshi refrained from looking to see everyone's response. She could imagine it just fine.

"Half of you will not make it past the introduction," the Marshal said. "Three quarters of the remainder will not make it through the classes you're going to be facing. Half of the people who make that will not find a drift partner. You can see why I may be a little put out by your numbers, then. Two hundred recruits? I'll get maybe twelve pilots out of this lot. Six jaegers. If I'm lucky. Chances are I'll get half that, to be honest. Of this whole group, maybe six of you will be compatible and competent. Three jaegers. Hell, there's a good shot none of you will make it. No jaegers. Math's funny, ain't it?"

Nobody answered.

"The kaiju will come back," Marshal Hansen said. "They'll come back bigger, angrier, and uglier. They'll come back with twice the determination they had the first time. We'll have to be the same."

He looked at all of them, his mouth twisting in displeasure. "The first jaeger pilots had no-one to measure themselves against. They had no precedent, no bar to reach. You lot do. You will meet all my expectations, and then exceed them. If you don't, I'm going to drop you on your asses and point you towards wherever the fuck you came from. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the recruits chanted.

"These things will try to kill you," he told them. "Some of 'em will succeed. Do you all understand that?"

The response was slower. "Yes, sir."

"Some of you are going to be killed by a monster a thousand times your size. And you'll be feelin' it twice through your drift partner. Are you ready for that?"

They stared at him.

"Towards the end of the last kaiju war, we were losing good pilots -- the best pilots -- to minor victories. To battles just barely scraping defeat. All in defense of a world that had given up our cause. Are you ready to give your lives to a monster in exchange for the survival of uncaring strangers?"

A bare handful of them didn't blink, of the two hundred recruits. Many outright cringed. None of them responded.

"If you aren't ready to take the world onto your shoulders," Marshal Hansen said, "then walk back out the way you came. If you are, follow me."

He turned on his heel and walked through the double doors, not looking back. The dog growled, then hurried after him.

Devanshi glanced around, trying to seem inconspicuous. A huge chunk of people were walking back out, away from the Marshal. Checking over the remaining students, she realized that about a fourth of them had already given up. Math's funny, indeed.

She looked forward and saw a pair of twins walking through the double doors, following the Marshal, and she followed them. The rest followed after her, and she kept her eyes on the backs of the twins, on the way they moved in tandem as if they'd been practicing their whole lives for this.

This room was plastered with newspapers and magazine articles. The Marshal waited until they were all in the room, not looking surprised by the sudden decrease in numbers. Once they had all filed in, he slapped his hand to the wall. "Jaeger pilots as rockstars. We all know those stories, don't we?"

Devanshi was in line with the twins, and she glanced at them out of the corner of her eye. They had been locked onto the Marshal for the last presentation, but here they were scanning the walls, hunting for something. Finally the girl tapped the boy and jerked her chin, and he turned to where she was aiming at. His lips pulled into a thin smile, and they both returned their attention to the Marshal.

"We can all name a dozen jaegers and their pilots," the Marshal said. "The public treated them like celebrities, put them on a pedestal... 'til they got bored with 'em, of course. A lot of pilots let that get to their heads. Made it into a bit of a sport. Talked about the kaiju like they were points scored and not enemies eliminated. Bagging kills. Notches on the belt. Compared scores to one another, tried to one-up each other. They got cocky. They got arrogant. The media encouraged it."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Competition within the Academy will not be tolerated. This is not a game. Your fellow students are not your opponents. The drift is based on trust, respect, and cooperation, and if I do not see that from each and every one of you each and every day, I will punt you out of here so hard your ass'll hurt for the rest of your life. If -- and I stress if -- you make it into a robot, you'll have the press asking you about rivalries in training, asking you if you're going to beat the record of some other crew. If you sink to their level on this, I will personally take you into the Kwoon and I will thrash you into the mat. The media is looking for weaknesses. You will not show them any. The kaiju are looking for weaknesses. You will not show them any. Pride, arrogance, thinking you can save the world on your own when you're really only a tiny cog in a tremendous machine -- all of it will get you killed. I don't want to see a good jaeger ruined because its pilots couldn't pull their heads out of their asses. Those things are damned expensive. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," the recruits said.

"You all will not be heroes," he said. "You are a small part of a big picture. I will not abide by someone thinking they're hot shit. Cooperation, respect, trust. Those are the key qualities of a good pilot. Those are qualities you will live and breathe. If you came here hoping for special treatment... if you came here looking for my admiration... walk out the door you came through. You are performing a civil service. By being here, by being part of the general Jaeger Program, you are meeting my basic standards for a human being. And quite frankly, you all are just a bit short." He chuckled. "After all, you ain't even done anything yet."

He waved them in further. "I’ve got work to do, so back here you'll be introduced to Rangers Mori and Becket. They'll explain some of the things you'll have to deal with over the course of your stay here.”

His smile was almost predatory. “Welcome to the Jaeger Program. Good luck.”

Chapter Text

Mako's whole leg was practically vibrating as she leaned against the wall. Raleigh understood that she was anxious, that she wanted to see and judge the new recruits, but her sulking and fidgeting out of boredom was still a little bit cute. He figured that was the summary of Mako, really -- driven and dangerous and competent and cute. Pretty well-rounded, in his opinion.

"How many do you think have given up already?" she asked in Japanese.

"I'd say a fair few," he replied in English. She huffed, then reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. He wanted to reach out and smooth down her hair -- a touch that always comforted her -- but refrained. They had to look like serious Rangers, now, like teachers. Teachers didn't cuddle right before class, he didn't think.

"What if they aren't serious?" she asked, keeping to Japanese. These bilingual discussions came naturally to them, and they tended to keep it up even when Tendo told them they were being weird.

"Then we'll drop them," he said.

"I looked over the paperwork," Mako said. "There are a lot of people from the inlands and Atlantic coast. I just don't think they'll... understand. Inlanders never really understood, I don't think. I mean..."

"Look at Newt?" Raleigh suggested. Mako sighed.

"Yes. Look at Newt."

Raleigh laughed a little. "I think Newt's learned his lesson, there."

"They make little kaiju toys," Mako said. "Online I saw them selling... selling Knifehead toys, Raleigh. They don't care. They never cared."

He grimaced, trying to ignore the way his stomach lurched.

The doors unlocked, and Mako and Raleigh pushed off the wall to stand at the head of the room.

The students filed in, and from where he was standing Raleigh could see a few walking back out the way they had come. Two hundred people had flown out here, and more then a quarter of them were already quitting. He guessed there was a little over a hundred students left.

The introduction wasn't even over, and Raleigh realized there was a good chance they weren't going to get any pilots. Not out of this lot, at least. When he was at the Academy there had been hundreds of students, dozens who made the cut, and quite a few with drift compatibility. If they got one pilot team out of this group he would be surprised.

Mako was watching the recruits like a hawk, sizing up individuals and getting a feel for the group. After a moment she straightened up, and Raleigh subconsciously echoed her movement.

"Welcome to the Jaeger Program," Mako said. "My name is Mako Mori, and this is my copilot Raleigh Becket. Over the next several months, we will try to destroy you."

A few of the recruits winced, and Raleigh tried not to smirk. Yeah, he remembered that from his Academy days, too. He picked up the script easily. “This place is going to be a nightmare. The purpose is to break you. The purpose is to be relentless. If you cannot handle the Academy, you cannot handle the kaiju.”

“While you are studying here you will have every scrap of information about jaegers and kaiju shoved into your head,” Mako said. “There will be pop quizzes on thirty pages you have ten minutes to read in class. Sessions with the psyche analyst that will leave you feeling raw and terrified and lost. You will be occasionally woken up at three in the morning for a full-tilt run around the base until you drop. Sometimes an officer will pull you into the Kwoon on your lunch break for a sparring session that is mostly you being thrashed into the mat while other recruits watch. There will be Pons training in the mock-pad where you have to scramble to respond to stimuli while the AI constantly tells you to try again.”

“You’re allowed to walk out,” Raleigh said. “Every two weeks we’ll be sending people home on our dime. We encourage you to leave. If you can’t cut it here, you’ll be nothing but kaiju bait in the field. We don’t need kaiju bait.”

“We will be relentless and you will hate us,” Mako said. “The drift is trust and cooperation, but to get there you have to be ruthless and capable. We aren’t training truck drivers, here. We’re training killers. We are going to make you brutal. If you can’t cut it, that’s your problem, not ours.”

“There will be broken bones, there will be bruises, there will be exhaustion,” Raleigh told them. “A lot of you will probably crack under the strain. That’s good. It means you’re working hard.”

“Through these doors behind us lies the rest of the Shatterdome,” Mako said, jerking her thumb to point over her shoulder. “Once you walk through these doors, you’re stuck here for two weeks until the next plane out. You will work hard every day and every night of those two weeks. You will not give up halfway through and spend the rest of the time in your bunk sleeping. Raleigh and I will make sure of that.”

“You’ll be meeting engineers who will teach you about the jaegers you have a chance at piloting, and scientists who will teach you about the kaiju you’ll be fighting,” Raleigh said. “You’ll be meeting fightmasters who’ll teach you how to throw and take a punch, psychiatrists who will pick you apart, and the LOCCENT officers who will be your eyes and ears and strategists for as long as you’re in this program. You will show each and every one of these people the respect they deserve, both as specialists and as the people trying to keep you alive.”

“If you do not think you can handle anything we’ve described to you, please walk away now,” Mako said. “If you think you can, please follow us.”

They turned and pushed the doors open, leading the way into the Dome, and when Raleigh glanced down at her face Mako was grimacing.

“There aren’t going to be enough of them,” she said.

“We’re still here,” he told her quietly. “We can still fight, even if we barely have any other pilots.”

“You know one jaeger won’t be enough for whatever will come through the Breach,” Mako said. “If we even get the funding to make a new jaeger for us.”

“We’ll have a new jaeger,” he said. “Don’t act like you aren’t already drawing up plans for a new Gipsy Danger. I saw them. You’re bad at hiding your blueprints.”

She laughed a little, shaking her head. “Well…”

“I know you, Mako,” Raleigh said. “I’m pretty sure anything you build will be able to handle what we’re up against.”

Mako looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Raleigh.”

“It’s nothing. Let’s show off the Kwoon, huh?”

~~~

“I don’t understand,” Herc said. “You allowed us to restart the program. I assumed that meant you’d fund us.”

“We are funding you, Marshal,” the UK representative said. “We’re just… limiting our contribution.”

Herc felt pain spark behind his eyes, a headache ready to crack his skull open. “Uh-huh. May I ask why?”

“Face it, Marshal,” the Canadian rep said. Herc almost missed dealing with the actual country leaders, because at least they had obvious goals, as petty as those goals were. The PPDC representatives just seemed to be aimless, sleazy cowards. “You’re claiming a new breach on scant evidence. We can’t afford to build a dozen jaegers, not on our budget with so little reason.”

“We offered to use old jaegers as scrap for the new ones,” Herc said, trying to stay calm.

“Yes, and you are going to do just that,” the US rep told him. “But even then, the jaegers are a liability, Marshal. You know that. Imagine us building a fleet of jaegers… and no breach opening up.”

“My people are positive--”

“That may be,” the US rep interrupted. “But let’s say no breach opens. This world-wide alliance is falling apart. If you make a bunch of jaegers with pilots for each of them and no kaiju to fight… who’s to say what will happen next?”

None of them seemed inclined to actually say, though. Herc wondered if it was from actual distress over the issue, or if they don’t want to be the first one to suggest jaeger-equipped civil war.

He wondered if he should say it first, just to fuck with them. He decided that would probably be a terrible idea, and he stored it away for later.

“So you’re limiting our funding?” Herc asked.

“Until we can be sure a second breach is a real possibility,” US rep said. Herc really had to start learning their names. Then again, once the breach opened up (if it opened up no don’t think about that) this lot would probably be replaced by representatives who weren’t such absolute indecisive tits. He’d put off names until then.

“We can afford maybe six jaegers,” the Chinese rep said. “That is the absolute limit to our budget.”

“Good news, then,” Herc said. “We’ll be lucky to get two pilot teams by the time the Atlantic breach opens.”

The US representative’s smirk was mocking. “Then I suppose you’ll have some pocket change to spare.”

~~~

“Well, it looks pretty badass,” Newt said, looking up at the encased brain. “But it’s totally useless since me and Hermann drifted with it.”

“You’ll have to send me pictures,” Vanessa replied. Newt had, tragically, never met Vanessa in person, but she was beautiful in the magazine photos and hilarious on the phone, so he figured she was pretty cool. “Hermann said you have shady underworld connections, now. I am shocked. Shocked, Newton. How could you not tell me you became cool all of a sudden? That’s the sort of things friends tell each other.”

“You know what, your cruel jabs are totally unwarranted, because I was always cool and recently became fractionally cooler through science,” Newt said.

“Haha.”

“You know what, we can’t all be famous perfect supermodels like you, Vanessa. Some of us get by with what we have.”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was a moment of silence, the sound of an infant in the background, and then Vanessa sighed. “You’re certain about the breach, Newton?”

Newt grimaced. “I… like, I know there’s a lot of worry about it not being real, and like… I’ve seen those newspapers trying to say this is, like, fearmongering? And I don’t know, man, maybe fearmongering is important when there’s something to be fearful of, so maybe they should stop being pretentious assholes about everything ever.”

“I think what you’re trying to say, and failing at articulating, is yes, you’re certain there will be a breach, and we are right to be prepared for the worst possible outcome,” Vanessa said. “Please do not use the word ‘fearmongering’ positively at any press conferences or anything.”

“Can I use ‘pretentious assholes?’”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

~~~

The recruits -- or rather, the ninety-eight individuals who made it past the introduction --  were given one day to unpack what belongings they had into the main dormitory. Pick a bed. Stick with it. Remember it. Don’t be that asshole who can’t remember what bed their bag is under.

Rebel thought the bed was the best part of the whole thing, because hers was right next to the bed of a girl named Quinn, and Quinn was hilarious. Quinn didn’t think it was weird that Rebel couldn’t focus on things properly. Quinn helped Rebel study.

Quinn was from Los Angeles, and had seen a kaiju fighting in real life (from far away, Quinn had assured her, but it was still awesome). Quinn also apparently had a dead sister, which was less awesome and more upsetting, especially since Quinn’s dead sister was actually Hannah Barcenas, a pilot of Gringo Menace, which was a Mark 3 jaeger Rebel knew hadn’t been very popular on the Atlantic coasts. This, of course, was because Hannah Barcenas and her copilot Ricky Montenegro didn’t like doing television interviews unless they were allowed to talk about how bad things were economically along the Pacific coasts. The Atlantic talk shows weren’t really interested in that sort of thing, so Gringo was sort of ignored by the mainstream media.

On jaeger forums, though, Gringo was hugely popular because -- even when they were talking about really freaky stuff, like how in some places along the coast a head of lettuce cost almost thirty dollars because it was ‘dangerous to ship supplies to the coast’ -- they were really funny and liked talking to regular people. Rebel had thought they were really cool, and had been really upset when Gringo finally went down in 2024.

She figured Quinn (and her twin brother Avery) had probably been a bit more upset than her.

But still, Quinn was cool and super smart and loved dinosaurs, which meant she had been super distressed when Newton Geiszler said he had a theory about a few kinds of dinosaurs being early kaiju.

“I bet I can prove his theory wrong,” Quinn said during the lunch break. She had a tablet out and was scrolling frantically through some websites.

“He looked into a kaiju brain,” Rebel said around her mouthful of sandwich. “That’s, like. A primary source.”

Quinn looked at her, then went back to her tablet. “You’ve got mustard on your chin.”

Rebel scrubbed her face with a napkin.

Apart from her bed arrangements, another thing Rebel liked was the physical training. Sparring in the Kwoon got just the right assortment of chemicals flowing through her brain, focusing her down to a single point instead of grabbing blindly at every idea that came to mind. A lot of the other students struggled with it, but this sort of physical activity… it was… nice. It felt nice to have one goal, to be utterly single-minded for once. It was like her Adderall, but she actually felt accomplished after a few hours in the Kwoon. She didn’t feel like she should be embarrassed for not having a working brain.

“Your brain works,” Quinn said when Rebel told her this. “It just works differently, in a way that sometimes… sometimes isn’t as… efficient.”

They were both curled up in their beds, whispering to each other. Avery was in a bed on Quinn’s other side, probably already asleep.

“It’s just, a lot of people used to think I was lazy, or rude, but I wasn’t, I just… it was so hard to sit down and do something, I didn’t mean to do stuff wrong or not listen right, I…”

Quinn stared at her for a moment, then reached out to her. Rebel immediately reached back, and they clasped their hands between their beds until they fell asleep.

~~~

“How do you plan on wearing a helmet with that thing on your head?” Dalton Alward asked.

Nasrin’s fork froze on its way to her mouth, and the whole table went quiet.

Shay dropped her fork and knife and slammed her palms down on the table top. “Shut the fuck up.”

“It was just a question! I don’t see how she can wear the helmet and that thing on her head.”

“It’s called a hijab, you ignorant dipfuck,” Shay snarled. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

Dalton laughed. “Jesus Christ! It was a question!”

“Yeah right, you sack of shit, get that fucking smirk off your face, you aren’t amusing anybody,” Shay said. “Don’t go calling her scarf a thing, and don’t go acting like you weren’t deliberately trying to get a rise out of her. You’ve been ragging on her for that scarf since day fucking one.”

Nasrin finally set her fork down. “It’s fine, Shay.”

“But he--”

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

Shay glowered and Nasrin turned to Dalton. “This thing on my head will fit just fine under the helmet. Trust me. I’ve tried it out. Thank you for your concern.”

Dalton rolled his eyes. “Why do you wear it, anyway?”

He reached for the scarf, as if to pull it off. Nasrin jerked back. “Stop that.”

“Come on, don’t be--”

“I said stop!”

“It’s not that big a deal--”

And that’s when Nasrin grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into the table.

Shay let out a shriek of laughter -- “Yeah, motherfucker!” -- and Nasrin immediately let Dalton go and returned to her meal.

“What just happened?” Mako Mori called, standing up from her end of the table. Raleigh Becket stood, too, and they both simultaneously saw Dalton sit up with blood running out of his nose.

“What happened?” Becket demanded.

To everyone’s surprise, Max Jones spoke up. “Dalton grabbed for Nasrin and she defended herself.”

Everyone looked to him, and he kept looking at the manual he and Avery Barcenas had been looking over.

“Is that what happened?” Becket asked Dalton.

“She fuggin--” Dalton warbled around his broken nose, and Shay stood up quickly from the bench.

“Dalton tried to yank Nasrin’s scarf off her head even when she told him to stop,” she said. “He was giving her a hard time about it, and then he tried to grab it off her, and so she grabbed him and slammed his face down and broke his nose. He started it.”

Marshal Hansen had looked over at the commotion but hadn’t stood up from where he was eating. At this point, he returned to his food. “Then I guess this is over. Go clean yourself up, Alward. Don’t go grabbing at people. Everyone finish up, we’re gonna be running laps in thirty minutes.”

~~~

“You’re going to have an in-class essay,” Marshal Hansen said in their morning class. “Tomorrow. The entire period will be devoted to a three-page handwritten essay on something from your Jaeger-Tech textbook.”

He held up the text, which was large enough to be used as a weapon against a class one kaiju. “You will each get a different subject to work on. You’ll have all day and all night to study, so all other classes are canceled for the next twenty-four hours and I’ve encouraged Becket and Mori to not give in to any urges to wipe the Kwoon with you in that period. No promises, though.”

He dropped the book onto his desk -- the metal legs creaked a little under the weight -- then leaned against the whiteboard. “Get studying.”

“Um, sir?” Maximilian asked, raising his hand. “Aren’t you going to tell us which subjects we’re going to be writing about?”

“Oh, I will, Jones,” Hansen said. “Tomorrow. At the start of class.”

“But how will we know what to study?” Rebel demanded, her hand shooting up into the air.

“Hm. Dunno. I guess you’ll have to read the whole thing,” Hansen replied.

There was a moment of silence, and then Jhonen Lorenzo let out a small wheezing noise and dropped his head down onto his desk.

As Jhonen crawled out of class to have his panic attack quietly in the other room, Max turned to Avery, who was watching Jhonen’s progress with mild interest.

“He’s sort of goofy looking when he crawls around like that,” Avery said.

“Please study with me,” Max said.

“Sure, but can we just. You know. Take a moment.”

They both watched as Jhonen finally dragged himself out into the hall, then Avery flipped open his textbook. “Okay. I’m ready now.”

~~~

Despite the encouragement to not jump any of them during the twenty-four hour period, Devanshi found herself snatched by Mako Mori and dragged to the Kwoon.

Mori handed her a staff, pushed her to stand on the mat, and said, “Defend.”

Nizhoni was her opponent, and Dev tried not to be too distressed. She and Nizhoni were great together in the Kwoon -- their sparring sessions could last for ages.

I will never get to study for the test, she thought before Nizhoni ran at her.

Nizhoni was a highly technical fighter, a bit predictable at times but incredibly strong and efficient. Dev was much the same, though she tended to have speed on Nizhoni’s strength.

Nizhoni was focusing on landing heavy hits, some of which Dev managed to avoid entirely and many of which she properly blocked. It took a moment for her to get fully into the flow of the fight, but soon enough she was returning strikes and avoiding every hit Nizhoni aimed her way.

She misstepped and saw that Nizhoni was about to hit her right in the shoulder, and she twisted to avoid most of its force when Mori’s voice cut through her concentration. “Enough. Go back to studying.”

Dev sighed, and Nizhoni took her staff and put it back in its place against the wall.

“I’ll help you study,” she said, and Dev was flooded with relief.

“Oh, thank god,” she said, and they hurried to find their textbooks and study in the canteen.

“I don’t understand the hydraulic lever system of the Mark 4,” Devanshi said.

“Precision control,” Nizhoni said. “The manipulation of the coefficient of dynamic friction allowed the Mark 4 to be a thousand times more precise than previous models.”

“The mucus membranes of a category 2 kaiju had half the strength but twice the elasticity of a category 3 kaiju.”

“What?”

“Sorry, I thought we were just throwing out facts that made no fucking sense.”

Nizhoni laughed, and Devanshi tried to remember what the coefficient of dynamic friction was.

~~~

The classroom door slammed open and Rangers Mori and Becket walked in.

“Marshal Hansen is dealing with some Pan-Pacific officials,” Mori announced. “We will be overseeing your in-class essay.”

“Everyone bring your books to the front and take a slip back to your desk,” Becket said. “These will have your specific prompt written on them.”

“We don’t want to catch you cheating,” Mori added.

“Anyone caught cheating will run laps around the Academy,” Becket said.

“Until you drop,” Mori said.

“It’s about a hundred and five degrees out, so that won’t take long,” Becket finished.

“God bless Panama weather,” Kole de Luka muttered. Rebel stretched her arms and ‘accidentally’ knocked her fingers against his face. “Fuck!”

“Books up,” Mori instructed, and they all filed forward to drop off their texts and take their slips.

Nizhoni grabbed one and balled it up in her fist, refusing to look at it until she was back at her desk with her three pages and pencil laid out in front of her. She brought out an extra page to brainstorm on, a piece of advice Devanshi had given her.

Finally she grimaced and smoothed her prompt out on her desk.

Define the function and purpose of the central torque system of the Mark 3 class of jaeger.

Presumably the purpose was to let the mech turn around, but what the fuck did she know?

~~~

The Academy opened in April 2026. Two hundred recruits flew into Panama.

By July of the same year, there were fifteen students left.

Shay didn’t know if she should be proud of herself for making it or horrified that so many people full-on dropped out. When she had been in the program initially, there had been a bunch of people who made it through the classes but simply didn’t find drift-compatible partners. They went on to become officers and specialists within the program, the same way she had gone on to become a fightmaster in the Alaska Kwoon. This lot hadn’t even started Pons testing, yet.

Marshal Hansen’s prediction on the first day -- three jaegers maybe, probably no jaegers at all -- was suddenly a much bigger possibility in her eyes.

“Why are you here, Shay?” head psych analyst Carmen Ortega asked. “You joined the program in its initial run, but you don’t seem like the type of person to join up for old time’s sake.”

“It seems like a moral imperative, in my opinion,” Shay replied.

“You’re so full of shit it’s laughable.” Ortega looked down at her notes. “Your file says that the reason you didn’t make pilot is because you were too closed off in your motives. Going into the drift with you would be like slamming your face repeatedly against a brick wall.”

“It doesn’t say that.”

“‘Drifting with Boone would be a frustrating waste of time at best, a terrifying brush with mental destruction at worst,’” Ortega read.

“We can go back to the brick wall, if you want.”

“Sure. The point of it, though, is that you are uncooperative. To go into the drift with someone who refuses to reveal their motives or innermost thoughts would be disastrous.”

“Are you kidding? Look at me. I’m an open book.”

“If you didn’t have any intention of learning from your previous attempts, why apply to become a pilot at all? Why not just apply for your position as fightmaster? Your application is what we in the business refer to as an exercise in futility.”

“I bet it has a much more complex name that involves psychobabble.”

“Boone deflects all questions and refuses any attempt at introspection. This psychiatrist does not recommend her for pilot candidacy,” Ortega said into her recorder.

“Oh my god, seriously? I’m trying.”

“That sound you just heard was my internal laughter becoming so uproarious it managed to seep into your own brain. Magnificent.”

Shay grimaced and rolled around on the couch she was lying on. She had the option of sitting in a regular chair, too, but she liked the aesthetic of psych patient reclining on fainting couch as the psychiatrist delicately questioned them. Ortega was too abrasive to make Shay’s mental image really complete.

“I suppose the answer to my questions is right here between the lines,” Ortega muttered, flicking through her notes. “There are no notes in your file regarding where you were or who you may have lost on K-Day. I’m shocked and appalled that none of the other psychiatrists you met with thought to pry into that specifically. Then again, their options weren’t limited to fifteen candidates and their funding wasn’t absolute shit.”

Shay stared at her, and Ortega tilted her head curiously. “So, tell me, Shay. Where were you when Trespasser reached San Francisco?”

Her heart thumped out of beat, her hands went clammy, and Shay realized that she wasn’t going to make pilot. Not if she reacted this badly to just barely skimming a memory, no way, she was done. Stick a fork in her, she was done and going back to the Kwoon to train a bare handful of pilots who wouldn’t be enough to fight whatever would come out of the new breach.

Ortega leaned forward. “Contrary to popular belief, traumatic memories can be carried safely into the drift. Terror and regret can be tempered into amazing weapons, Shay. You just have to work with me.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. “I was in Portland when Trespasser landed in San Francisco.”

“Hm.”

“On August twelfth my sister called me,” Shay said, and the memories burned in her throat and the back of her eyes and they bubbled to the surface and her palms were sweaty. “We… Jordy and I, we argued. Always. About everything. I was never around and she was always biting off more than she could chew with family things and we just… never got along. So she calls me August twelfth and as soon as I pick up the phone she goes ‘where the fuck are you?’ And I tell her that if it’s any of her fucking business I’m in Oregon, what the fuck does she want?”

Shay wiped her damp palms off on her sweatpants. “And she goes, ‘we’re all in San Fran for the family reunion, asshole. Everyone’s here.’”

Ortega didn’t react, and Shay barged on. “So I ask her why she didn’t tell me about it, and she goes off about how she sent me three emails and was all over Facebook with it and I never pay any fucking attention, and… and she says they’re gonna be there for a week, so I could come down if I could be fucking bothered. And I said… the last thing I said to her was ‘god, just shut the fuck up.’ And then I hung up. The next day Trespasser dragged his ugly ass ashore and I was watching him on the news and I realized the last thing I ever said to my sister was for her to shut the fuck up.”

Her eyes burned, her head throbbed, and her face was wet, and Shay was so ashamed she wanted to die. “I t-told my sister to shut the fuck up and that was literally the last thing she ever heard from me. I can’t even re-remember what the last thing I said t-to my mom or d-dad was, but it was probably…”

She sat up and curled into a ball, her face pressed to her knees as her body shook with sobs.

There was a moment of silence, then Ortega stood from her chair.

“That was amazing progress from you, Shay,” she said. “More than I was expecting. I’m proud of you.”

Shay didn’t look at her, her arms tightening around her shins.

“I’m going to give you some time to compose yourself,” Ortega said. “But before I step out, I just want you to know… a lot of people who have near-death experiences say that they feel a sort of peace that allows them to forgive and let go much more easily. There’s a good chance that your sister forgave you before she died.”

Shay’s laugh was ragged and a little hysterical. “You never met Jordy. That woman took her grudges to the grave.”

~~~

“Of the remaining recruits, a bare handful show signs of being able to pilot,” Mako told Herc. “Quinn Barcenas is compatible with her brother as well as Rebel Kaur, but I’m worried about her being overbearing in the drift. There’s a good chance she could drown out her partner and crush them. Even her brother, who she has higher compatibility with through shared experience, is at risk.”

“And Avery himself?”

“Avery has the opposite problem,” Raleigh said. “If Quinn’s a boulder crushing her copilot, Avery would be quicksand dragging them down. He’s receptive, but I’m worried about him chasing the RABIT.”

“And Avery’s compatible with…?”

“Avery is compatible with Quinn and Maximilian Jones,” Mako said. “But Maximilian has struggles with his self-worth stemming from emotionally abusive relationships in his past. I’m concerned about how he and Avery would react to each other in the drift.”

Herc rubbed his eyelids, trying to fight back his exhaustion. “And the others?”

“One of the other drift-compatible pairs is Shay Boone with Nasrin Pelayo. Both read each other incredibly well, and each one makes up for whatever the other lacks,” Mako said. “But both suffered extreme personal losses that could result in a terrible drift experience.”

“Shay’s obsession with her lost family -- her sister in particular -- could be devastating when paired with Nasrin’s own survivor’s guilt,” Raleigh said. “We could risk it, I suppose, but…”

Herc sighed. “Anyone else?”

“The best pair we have are Nizhoni Hunter and Devanshi Misra,” Raleigh said. “They are both competent and cooperative, and have practically no psychological hangups that could ruin their neural handshake.”

“We highly recommend putting them together in the Pons tester and making their training a priority,” Mako told Herc.

“Good,” Herc said, obviously relieved. “Anyone else?”

Mako grimaced. “No. Kole de Luka and Min Chang could be moved to jaeger-tech. Jhonen Lorenzo can be sent to k-science and Gretchen Smith could be fightmaster. Dalton Alward shouldn’t be here and Noemi Gomez would be great in LOCCENT.”

“But we have a chance of at least one pilot team and three other potential teams,” Herc said. “This is way better than I was expecting out of this lot.”

Raleigh looked down at their notes and Mako tried not to smile.

“We’ve really got a chance, here,” Herc muttered, running his fingers over the list of names. “We’ve finally got a damn chance.”

Chapter Text

Tendo walked into the meeting room with a tray loaded down with coffees and bagels. “Alright, who wanted what?”

“Just set it down, we’ll figure it out as we talk,” Herc said from the head of the table. Max the dog was lying at his feet, obviously disgruntled that he wasn’t allowed to sit on a chair. Mako and Raleigh were seated across from each other at Herc’s right and left, then Hermann and Newton sitting next to each other to Mako’s right and Chloe Carmichael and Beckham Burnett to Raleigh’s left. Carmen Ortega was seated next to Newton, and Tendo seated himself across from her and handed her a bagel. She smiled and took it, then handed him his notes. Everyone was reaching for their coffees as Tendo began looking over the paperwork.

“Jaeger teams codenamed Beta Danger, Strider Juno, Fortuna Charge, Avenger Titan, and Gamma Codex,” Tendo read. “Beta Danger is already underway, but we don’t even have initial designs for any of the others.”

“Marshal, the likelihood of the Atlantic Breach releasing category five kaiju and double events is incredibly high,” Hermann added. “We would need bigger, faster jaegers than we’ve ever tried before to prepare for what new onslaught there will be--”

Beckham Burnett spoke up, clearly irritated. “You said Slattern was almost six hundred feet tall -- we can’t have jaegers that size, the neural load will be impossible for two pilots to handle. Now, if we want to start getting into more than two pilots per jaeger…”

“We were lucky to find four pairs of drift compatible pilots,” Raleigh said. Mako nodded and sipped her coffee.

“The Barcenas twins--” Newton started, voice muffled around his bagel..

“Barcenas twins?” Chloe Carmichael demanded, straightening up. “What Barcenas twins? What are you talking about?”

“Avery and Quinn Barcenas,” Tendo explained. Chloe looked like someone had punched her in the gut.

“Not Hannah’s little brother and sister?” she asked. “That’s impossible.”

“They wouldn’t have joined up, they knew Hannah didn’t want them to,” Beckham agreed, but she looked just as bewildered and distressed as Chloe.

Newton leaned forward and raised his voice. “If we’re talking multiple pilots, we could get the twins and their copilots into one super-sized jaeger, maybe. To account for the neural load.”

“It’s a possibility,” Herc allowed. “But then what? We’ve got one mega-jaeger and then Strider and Fortuna on their own?”

Newt shrugged and Raleigh shook his head. “That won’t work. We’ll be better off with four jaegers. Once the Breach opens, there’s a good chance more people will join, and we’ll have even more jaeger crews. Strength in numbers.”

Mako leaned over to Chloe. “I understand you were Gringo Menace’s head engineer -- maybe you would be the best candidate for building Avenger or Gamma.”

Chloe sat back in her seat, looking dazed. “Perhaps. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“What about pairing up the jaegers?” Tendo offered. “Jaeger units. They can be trained specifically to fight as a team.”

“That would be perfect,” Raleigh said, leaning forward, spreading his hands out in a standard ‘okay work with me I’ve got something here’ gesture. “The Barcenas twins already fight well together, and Nizhoni Hunter works almost as well with Nasrin Pelayo as she does with Devanshi Misra. We could get Avenger and Gamma as a unit and Strider and Fortuna as a unit easy.”

“I agree,” Carmen said, looking up from where she was jotting down notes. “I suggest specializing their training regimens to account for this plan, though -- more group work will allow them to fight together much more efficiently, get used to each other. You can’t just throw a bunch of people together with no warning and expect them to figure things out.”

“Agreed,” Herc said. “Who’s going to be building which jaegers, though?”

“Beta Danger is nearly fully operational,” Mako said. “I can begin designs for Strider Juno and Fortuna Charge, and oversee their jaeger team.”

“I’ll oversee Gamma and Avenger,” Chloe said, looking down at her hands. “With Doctor Burnett as my lovely assistant, of course.”

“Of course,” Herc said, nodding. Beckham looked unhappy, but she didn’t press.

“So to sum up,” Carmen said, smoothing out her notebook. “Jaeger-units will increase efficiency, proposed units being Strider Juno and Fortuna Charge, overseen by Mako Mori, as well as Avenger Titan and Gamma Codex, overseen by Chloe Carmichael.”

“J-Units Strider-Fortuna and Avenger-Gamma. I am in love with this, dude,” Newton said, and Hermann sighed as Tendo and Carmen snickered.

“Excellent,” Herc said, reaching down to give the rest of his bagel to Max. The bulldog happily slobbered it down. “Tendo and I will write up the report to the PPDC. Newton and Hermann, you’ll continue working on possible locations of the Atlantic Breach. Mako, Chloe, you will be overseeing the jaeger construction. Beckham will be designing the Pons systems for both machines, Raleigh will be training the teams both as copilots and as… what was it, J-Units?”

He looked to Newt, who nodded and flashed a thumbs up. “J-Units. Carmen, you’ll be assisting that -- I want you to pick these pilots apart and put them together as something we want between us and the kaiju, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

Herc stood up from the table. “Alright, then. Let’s get to work.”

~~~

“Again,” Mako said, and Shay readied her staff and lunged at Devanshi.

Devanshi anticipated, blocked, returned a hit, and the two dodged and swung at each other for a few tense moments before Shay scored a point.

Mako’s hand flew over her sketch paper, recording the way they both moved, the way Devanshi was too wild and Shay favored her left leg. She flipped to a clean sheet of paper. “Nasrin, Nizhoni, on the mat.”

Nasrin took Shay’s staff and Nizhoni took Devanshi’s, and they faced each other for just a moment before lunging into action.

Shay sat down on the bench and Mako could hear her comments to Devanshi. “You have so much power to your swings, it’s amazing, dude. Maybe try for a bit more control, though? You sort of threw yourself off balance a couple times, there.”

“Definitely,” Devanshi agreed. “What should I do to fix that?”

“Just learn your own center of balance and how far you can extend,” Shay told her. “Totally simple stuff, once you get it you’ll be golden. See, like…”

Shay stood her up and started explaining to her about her reach and her stance, but Mako was too busy watching Nizhoni struggle with Nasrin’s speed. Nasrin was quick, brutal. Nizhoni had incredible persistence and strength in her movements. Usually this made for an interesting compromise, but today Nizhoni seemed too tired to respond as well as she usually did.

“Enough,” Mako called. “Take a break. I’ll be back later.”

Nizhoni grimaced and nodded, and Nasrin lowered her staff and reached out to clap her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as Mako walked out of the Kwoon, and Mako didn’t hear the response.

“They communicate well and respect each other,” Carmen said as she fell into step with Mako. “Their group sessions with me are wonderful. Unless you count the fact that all this new psychological baggage is weighing very heavily on Miss Hunter, of course.”

“She was too slow today,” Mako said. “You’re forcing too much on her all at once.”

“Sharing their respective traumas is doing a lot of good for the rest of them,” Carmen said. “Nizhoni is the only one struggling, as she’s the only one who doesn’t have the same sort of story.”

“So the odds of her cracking?”

“Eh, slim to none. She’s having a bit of trouble now, but Nizhoni’s a survivor. She’ll push through this. Professional opinion.”

“Good.”

“How are you and Raleigh?”

Mako looked over at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Are you two sleeping better? And are you still sleeping in the same bed, or have you finally returned to sleeping alone like standard adults who aren’t in a sexual relationship?”

“We don’t have to be having sex to sleep in the same bed,” Mako said, her words clipped and irritable.

“Of course not. Plenty of people think that’s normal. However, neither of your upbringings are really open to relationships like the one you two have developed, which is what makes it an interesting subject for me. Is it a product of drifting? Or simply you two in particular, regardless of your drift experiences together? I’m sorry if my questions seem any more sordid than their intended scientific curiosity.”

“You use much larger words when you’re trying to crack somebody,” Mako noted.

“Thank you for telling me, I’ll try to change my methods in the future in order to be much sneakier.”

Mako stopped at the door to her own office, turning to face Carmen. “Raleigh and I are both sleeping much better, probably because of your theory that we were just struggling with our purpose post-war. We have a renewed purpose, and it has soothed us both. We are still sleeping in the same bed. It is a comfort to have each other nearby. Possibly because of the drift. That is my report. I know you well enough to trust you won’t spread this around as gossip.”

Carmen’s brow furrowed. “I know sometimes I can be a bit silly, but you know I wouldn’t do that. We may not be in my office but this is purely professional on my part. I’m sorry if I give the impression that this is me being nosy.”

Mako relaxed, smiling slightly. “Of course. Sorry -- we’re definitely feeling better, but I’m still tense.”

“There’s so much to do,” Carmen agreed, her voice soothing. “You should take a nap before you start in on those sketches and reports. Refresh your brain.”

“I will,” Mako said, reaching out. Carmen shook her hand, smiling. “Thank you, Doctor Ortega.”

“Any time, Miss Mori. Any time.”

~~~

Their new private quarters came with private showers. Devanshi thought that was awesome.

She walked out to find Nasrin braiding Nizhoni’s long black hair and Shay flopped on the top bunk. They were all dressed down in sweats and a-shirts, and Nasrin’s short brown curls were free of her usual scarf. “No privacy. None. Ever.”

“None of us are looking,” Nasrin said mildly, tying off the end of Nizhoni’s braid. “There, done! Fishtail braid. I work for tips.”

Nizhoni laughed and pulled her hair around to examine Nasrin’s handiwork. “Oh wow, a masterpiece.”

“Yes, my true calling,” Nasrin agreed. “Shay, come down here so I can fix your hair.”

“I am a grown woman and I can do my own hair and give me a second I’ll be right down.”

“This is a bonding experience and you are missing out,” Nasrin said. “I’m going to do Dev’s hair first. Watch. It’s going to happen.”

“I want to get dressed first,” Dev said, going over to her and Nizhoni’s dresser and pulling out her own set of pajamas. She dropped her towel and pulled on the sweats, then struggled with her a-shirt for a second before she finally yanked it down over her wet hair. “Fuck! Nailed it.”

“Majestic,” Shay said, clambering down from the top bunk to plant herself in front of Nasrin. “I’m totally ready for my beautification.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Nasrin asked. “Your hair is as short as mine.”

“Cute pigtails, I dunno.”

“Quinn has pigtails, if I do that then you two will get mixed up.”

“I am like a hundred times too white and almost ten years too old to get honestly mixed up with Quinn Barcenas,” Shay said. “Let’s risk it.”

“If you say so,” Nasrin said, laughing, and she quickly pulled Shay’s hair into some low pigtails. “Oh my god, where did Shay--”

“Don’t. Don’t even try this with me. I am twenty-eight years old, that means I’m too grown-up for this. You see my face? This is my ‘I’m so done with your nonsense’ face.”

“Worth a shot,” Nasrin said, shrugging. “Get outta my face, I have to put up Dev’s hair.”

Shay flopped to the floor. “Adult.”

“No,” Nasrin told her as Devanshi sat down. “Fishtail to match Nini?”

“Nini is an awful name,” Nizhoni said.

“It’s adorable.”

“Awful.”

“Adorable.”

“Adoraful?” Shay offered.

“No,” Nasrin and Nizhoni said in unison.

~~~

Rebel wasn’t really sure about fighting Max.

“You’ll all need to work as a unit,” Ranger Becket explained as they sized each other up. “You two need to be as compatible with each other as you are with Quinn and Avery.”

Max had almost a hundred pounds on her, all thick arms and stocky muscle. Rebel looked over to Quinn, who nodded and smiled. She looked back to where Max was looking a little embarrassed.

“Maybe I should spar with him first?” Quinn offered. Raleigh looked at Rebel, then sighed and nodded.

“Sorry,” Rebel mumbled, hunching her shoulders. Quinn cracked her neck and walked onto the mat, giving Rebel a pat on the shoulder as she passed. As Quinn squared off against Max, Rebel stood next to Avery and wondered if she was supposed to talk to him or something.

“It’s okay if you’re scared of fighting him,” Avery said before she could decide. “His style is way different from yours.”

Rebel looked up at him. It was almost like looking at Quinn: fluffy brown hair, brown skin and dark, gentle eyes, though Avery’s features were a bit broader than Quinn’s. Even their piercings and tattoos matched -- their earrings were taken out for training, but their shoulders were decorated with the triple-star and shield logo of Gringo Menace. Rebel felt small and a bit plain next to the twins.

“He’s just so much bigger than me,” she said, embarrassed. Max was thickset and tall, a bit taller than Avery, and Rebel barely came up to Avery’s shoulder. “I mean, I know that’s silly, because we’ll be fighting kaiju and all, but…”

“It’s okay to be nervous about fighting people bigger than you,” Avery assured her. “Everybody should be a little nervous about fighting anybody.”

Rebel looked over to where Max and Quinn were sparring. Quinn was tall and fast, but Max was taller and stronger, and he blocked every hit Quinn aimed at him but seemed unwilling to strike back. “Quinn’s not nervous about fighting people.”

“Quinn’s a freak,” Avery said, loudly, and Quinn lost her concentration long enough for Max to land a point on her. She yelped when the staff smacked her side.

“You dick!” Quinn scolded her brother, laughing, and Avery grinned as Max shied away.

“Max, you can’t hold back, here,” Ranger Becket said, then he waved Rebel over. “Alright, you two, again.”

Rebel picked up her staff and walked back onto the mat, and Max shuffled his feet nervously. Rebel looked at him, and realized that Max had one of the most precious, anxious faces she’d ever seen, all earnest and sweet, with dark blonde curls pushed back from his big blue eyes, and she smiled at him.

“Okay, I promise not to beat you up too bad,” she said, going down into her stance. Max hesitated, then laughed.

“Gee. Thanks.”

She scored the first point on him, and he didn’t hold back after that.

~~~

Max was watching Avery and Rebel spar together and trying to tamp down the little spark of jealousy -- my copilot, mine, stop fighting so well with him -- when Marshal Hansen walked in with a tall woman at his side. Quinn was watching the fight with one elbow propped up on Max’s arm, and when she looked over she slipped and stumbled a little to regain her balance. “Chloe?”

Avery’s head whipped around and Rebel knocked his legs out from under him. “Oh my god, Ave!”

“Humanity’s last hope,” Herc sighed.

“They weren’t doing half bad,” Raleigh said, reaching out to help Avery back to his feet. “Just gotta work on their focus.”

Herc nodded, then held his hand out to introduce the woman he had walked in with. “Gamma Codex, Avenger Titan, this is Doctor Chloe Carmichael. She’ll be the head engineer on both your jaegers. Doctor Carmichael, this is Rebel Kaur and Quinn Barcenas, copilots of Avenger Titan, and Maximilian Jones and Avery Barcenas, copilots of Gamma Codex.”

Avery shuffled over to Max’s side, seeming like he wanted to hide behind his copilot. Quinn was tense, and Rebel reached out to grab her hand.

Max tilted his head slightly to whisper to Avery. “What’s your deal?”

“Chloe built Gringo Menace,” Avery said, voice quiet.

Chloe built--

Chloe Carmichael built Hannah’s jaeger--

“It’s nice to meet you!” Max said, voice a bit too anxious and high-pitched. It felt like he was meeting Avery’s mom or something, like he should have worn a different shirt and brushed his hair better or anything.

Chloe Carmichael looked at him for a moment, then looked to Rebel. Sizing them up, thinking, deciding…

“Well,” she finally said, and there was a slight tremor to her voice, “let’s build some jaegers for these wee soldiers, shall we?”

~~~

“Why are we paying for new jaegers to be built?” a talkshow host demanded. “We’re trying to rebuild after the K-War, and their fearmongering--”

“Bingo!” Newton shouted, marking off his card. “Fearmongering!”

“Damn,” Hermann muttered, and Tendo threw down his bingo card irritably.

“Pass it up,” Herc said, and Newt ran up to show off his fully blacked out card. “Free space, fearmongering, budget, narcissism, ‘kaiju aren’t that big,’ arms dealers…”

“Marshal, the Pons tests are ready to -- are you playing media bingo?” Mako asked. Raleigh had walked in with her, and he seemed especially affronted.

“Without us?” he added accusingly.

“We’re on our break,” Tendo said.

“And Newt just won, so we’re all finished up here,” Herc said, setting the card down as Newt began his victory lap around the room. “The simulator’s ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Mako said. “We have Strider Juno ready to drift first, then Fortuna, then Avenger, then Gamma.”

“Perfect,” Herc said. “Let’s do this.”

~~~

Drifting was beautiful.

Nizhoni basked in the flow of thought, a river of another person running through her mind. It was so peaceful. A gentle press of sentience.

Devanshi smiled at her, and she smiled back.

this engine is shot to hell what did you even do to this thing

look at this cuticle tell me its not the most beautiful thing youve ever seen

nizhoni kissed a boy behind the school and his breath tasted like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

she went rock climbing with her mother dev wasnt too outgoing but she loved doing stuff with mom

moms boyfriend showed her how to take apart an engine and put it back together nizhoni adored him

Devanshi laughed a little, and she reached out to grab Nizhoni’s hand. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Nizhoni shot back with a laugh.

“Perfect,” Tendo said, and Herc let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Neural handshake successful.”

~~~

god dammit shay you just dont give a fuck about anyone but yourself

auntie nas im going to see gran in manila its going to be so fun

shut the fuck up

ill talk to you later aisha

we dont know what it is san francisco is destroyed

another monster has made land in the philippines manila has been annihilated

Shay trembled at the grief, at the force of her loss echoed back at her, Jordy died hating her and little Aisha died not knowing what was happening or what that monster was…

“Control this,” Mako Mori’s voice called to them, doubled strangely in their brains. “Your memories do not own you.”

laughing with tendo in the canteen did you see that new girl in munitions

the vents of nova hyperion were smooth and flawless in her hands

the new recruits are shaping up so nicely they listen when she instructs they throw themselves into the exercises

tacit ronin rising up like a goddamn angel of god ready to throw demons back into the pit its so beautiful she loved it

nizhoni cried when she heard about jordy and aisha stern nizhoni so gentle and sympathetic

devanshi beat the shit out of shay at cards she said she had never played before what a liar

poor max jumping out of his skin when the marshal yelled for the dog what a sweet kid sharp as anything but cant tell if youre making fun of him or just teasing

tell me hes a wonder child

real tough kids those barcenas twins know what theyre doing when it comes to jaegers but god theyre all fucked up in the head nasrin can tell

gringo menace self destructed to save los angeles shay saw it on the news and she cried she had never even met those kids before but she cried

cherno crimson striker gipsy everything is gone we lost everything for people who didnt care

the kaidanovskys and the wei tang brothers and the marshal and that poor dumb angry chuck hansen boy so much potential gone forever

rebel had a crush on hercs son she had told nasrin at the back of class one day

The thoughts evened out, a steady pulse of engines simmering beneath the surface of their thoughts, and Nasrin and Shay took a deep breath and let it out slow.

“Neural handshake strong and holding,” Tendo said with a smile, and Herc’s satisfaction was plain on his face.

~~~

"Initiating drift test," Tendo Choi said. "Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve..."

"Don't get overwhelmed," Rebel said. "Flow. Keep yourself subtle."

"Right. Subtle." Quinn had never looked so stressed out in all the time Rebel had known her. "If I get to be too much, just--"

"I'll punch you in the head," Rebel told her, and Quinn choked out a laugh.

"Ready?" Quinn whispered, and Rebel smiled.

"When you are," she said, and Quinn closed her eyes and took a breath.

"... Three. Two. One."

Drift sequence initiated.

The whole world tilted a little and Rebel felt like she was slammed against a wall. Thoughts stabbed into her like hail pelting against a roof, because really wasn't that what Quinn Barcenas was? A storm, a typhoon--

typheus

typheus on tv look look its huge look there its hannah shes

i dont want you joining the program rebel

they cant build the wall hannah and ricky said so they said the wall was

dont forget your pills honey i know you didnt bring them to school today i

Rebel could feel her own mind echoed back at her, flashing lights to contrast Quinn's rain, thoughts blinking in and out faster and faster.

mama i just want to do something right

mom whats wrong with ricky what did i say i didnt mean to im sorry im sorry

typheus

quinn do you think it hurt

mama im sorry i broke it im sorry im sorry i didnt mean to

your daughter is failing all her classes maybe if she paid more attention she wouldnt

be so loud your child is a menace mrs barcenas she punched tommy in class during our wall of life discussion

now destiny is an absolute angel compared to her rebel is always tipping things over or

avery is so quiet in class its like she sucked all the words out of him in utero or

typheus

The thoughts were a storm, sparks and rain churning in the drift, hectic, burning, and Rebel had never been so focused in her entire life.

compsognathus name meaning elegant jaw

the torque system of brawler yukon was practically nonexistent but still functional which is

amazing thank you so much ive been wanting to get this book its all about the stegosaurus

The storm settled. The buzz and chatter receded to the back of her mind, and Rebel looked up to smile at Quinn.

"Awesome," she said, and Quinn's laugh was breathless.

~~~

Quinn waved her hand to get Avery’s attention before he and Max walked into the sim. “You know, Ave, when I was your age, I was already drifting with my copilot--”

“Oh my god, that joke wasn’t funny the first sixty million times!” Avery cried. “You being three minutes older isn’t some hilarious fucking--”

“I think it’s funny,” Max said mildly before he walked into the simulator. Avery made a distressed, betrayed noise, then followed after him.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Avery asked.

“Which side has cooler merchandise?”

“Mine. Totally mine.”

“Then sure, I’m on your side, dude,” Max said.

“Awesome. Knew you’d come around,” Avery said brightly, obviously pleased. Max rolled his eyes and sat down in the sim, and Avery sat across from him. Technicians bustled around to fit them with the headsets and make sure the Pons wouldn’t melt their brains or anything. Could the Pons melt brains? Max was suddenly a little bit uncertain.

“Ready?” Avery asked, arms folded on the table. His eyes were intense, nervous, and Max cracked his knuckles before nodding.

“Initiating neural handshake,” Tendo said. “Fifteen. Fourteen. Twelve…”

Avery was digging his nails into his arm. Max reached out, took his hand, smoothed out his fingers.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re cool.”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Avery said quietly.

“You won’t.”

“I just…”

“Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Drift sequence initiated.”

Avery’s mind was dark and cool and quiet, memories shaking beneath an icy surface. Max fell over him like snow.

quinn do you think it hurt

kyle stop youre hurting me

typheus

no one mourns the wicked everybodies equal when theyre dead his mom took him to the theater and he loved those musicals they were his favorite

he and quinn couldnt compromise and hannah decided to break their birthday party into half prehistoric and half underwater there you little jerks you get mermaids and dinosaurs youre welcome

little cousin sarah he taught her how to ride her bike and she insisted on paying him back in cookies

typheus

avery in his blue mermaid swim team shirt what a precious doofus

max benches two hundred pounds without breaking a sweat why is he so unhappy with his progress hes so

look max im not angry at you okay jesus youre such a goddamn baby

no no no youre good youre amazing

get off of me kyle get off

typheus

avery smiles at him like hes the greatest thing ever nobody ever smiles at him like that

smart and nice and looks at him like hes so amazing no hes just following quinn hes always followed quinn

perfect

“Oh my god,” Max said, and there were tears on his face. “Oh my god.”

Avery reached out, grabbed Max’s hand, squeezed. “You’re just fine. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you,” Max said, almost a sob, and Avery squeezed harder, and his mind was dark and comforting.

Chapter Text

Rebel was staring at the beast, but in her head she could feel Quinn pressing down on her.

secondary brain consistently located two thirds of the way down from the head

separate secondary brain from primary, half of the kaiju is useless

rebel

REBEL

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay, gotcha."

They surged forward, and Avenger Titan danced just out of Surgat's reach to swing around behind it. They reached up to grasp the nape of the kaiju's neck, then engaged their plasma caster and pressed their right palm to the base of its spine.

fire

FIRE

FIRE FIRE FIRE

The clip emptied into Surgat's back and its knees buckled, its upper limbs flailed, and that treacherous-looking tail went limp.

best solution to kaiju threat is brute force

the head

get his fucking hEAD

Rebel felt it all, felt the force of Quinn's mind pressing down on her like a weight, and she shoved back against it.

disarm first

forearms too strong even in current distress take his arms

Quinn flowed with the shift in control, letting Rebel lead her into sliding their armblade out on their left hand -- the right was still too overheated from the plasma caster, it wasn't worth risking -- and they drove it into Surgat's left shoulder, tearing through the muscle and bone. It screamed, and they tore the blade out to slam it down across its right shoulder as well, making its arms flop stupidly at its sides.

Then they darted to its front again, pounding Avenger's fists against Surgat's face, crushing the carapace and the bone and--

Kaiju eliminated. Simulation complete. Would you like to try again?

Rebel gasped and pawed at her helmet, and another pair of hands helped her take it off.

"Very good, both of you," Raleigh Becket said. "You worked together better than I was anticipating."

"Quinn, you pushed Rebel too hard," Mako Mori added. Her lips were pursed. "You ran the risk of overexerting your mind and crushing hers. In a real fight, that sort of risk is unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Ranger Mori," Quinn said, seeming to deflate.

"I expect you to work on it," Mako told her. Then she turned to Rebel. "You were able to resist Quinn's will at the very end, and that's good progress. But for the first half of the fight you let her dominate in the drift. That could cause you severe psychological damage."

"We're assuming you don't want that," Raleigh said.

"No, Ranger Becket," Rebel said when it was evident he wanted a response. He and Mako nodded, and Mako added a few notes to her clipboard.

"That's one drop, one kill on your simulator record, Avenger," she said. "Good start. Keep it up."

~~~

“Beta Danger ready to deploy,” Mako announced, and Raleigh felt his heart jump.

“Let’s suit up, take her for a test-run,” he said, and Mako looked happy enough to cry.

It took them only a few minutes to get ready, a few more to get situated in the conn-pad. Beta was Gipsy’s perfect twin, nuclear and elegant with that terrifying Mori edge. Raleigh was sure he was in love.

“This is beautiful,” he told Mako before he pulled on his helmet. She smiled, and then Tendo was initiating the drift, and--

ill always be there for you

were a nuclear reactor we can finish this

sensei i love you

anyone can fall

The rush of memories was brutal, heartwrenching, and Raleigh hadn’t felt so at ease in months.

i missed you

Mako smiled, nodded.

im here

you can always find me in the drift

~~~

Strider Juno and Fortuna Charge had similar designs, but Avenger Titan and Gamma Codex were practically twins. Mako wondered if that was deliberate on Chloe’s part, and decided it wouldn’t be a surprise. She also noticed that Avenger and Gamma both had a passing resemblance to Gringo Menace, but she was certain that was in her head. Probably. Maybe.

Devanshi and Nizhoni did their test run first, and they slipped into their jaeger like a hand slips into a well-tailored glove. Elegant, seamless. As if they had been piloting for years. Mako could see how pleased Herc was, and Raleigh reached out to grip her shoulder.

“You did great, Mako,” he said, and she leaned into his touch.

Strider was next, and Shay and Nasrin fit into the machine easily, flexing their metal arms and examining their mechanical fingers. The spikes on their knuckles seemed to please them.

“This is beautiful work, Ranger Mori,” Nasrin said over the comm system, and Mako smiled.

Quinn and Rebel tested out Avenger. They immediately activated their wrist-blades, examining the enormous weapons as Herc grumbled to himself.

“Figured they’d like that,” Chloe said, smiling vaguely. Beckham was at her side, looking up at the jaeger with a critical gaze.

Gamma Codex was last, and Avery and Max spent more time simply examining the inside of their conn-pad than testing their weaponry. They ran through the basic exercises, same as the others, but they seemed more taken with their surroundings than their munitions. Mako thought that was a little bit sweet, in a strange sort of way.

“It’s really nice in here,” Avery said, and Chloe closed her eyes.

“Glad you like it, dearie,” she said softly.

~~~

“It’s been two damn years since Pitfall,” Herc said. “More than a year since we reopened the program. We’ve got the jaegers, we’ve got the crews, and everybody is certain we’re a bunch of goddamn psychos stockpiling canned food in our basement or something.”

“Newton and I believe that there is a high likelihood of the Breach opening up along another tectonic fault-line,” Hermann said. “The chances of it being a good distance from the Pacific Breach are also very high. We propose it will open up along the Mid-Atlantic Ridge--”

“That doesn’t matter,” Herc said. “None of it matters. Theories don’t make a damn bit of difference if they don’t get proven.”

“We’re certain it’ll be soon,” Newt said, and his hushed voice made Herc hesitate. Newt was never quiet, or contemplative. Now he looked tired. “Newton Geiszler guarantee, sir.”

~~~

Alarms went off at twelve o’clock on Friday, and Herc had no idea what the fuck that meant. Who set off alarms? Wasn’t that his job? No, it was Tendo. Maybe the man had finally lost it and started button-mashing.

Herc rolled out of bed, pulled on his pants and his Striker Eureka jacket, and ran to the LOCCENT, Max running along at his heels.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” he demanded, and Tendo pointed to his screen.

“Newt and Herm were right about the Atlantic,” Tendo said, and Herc’s blood went cold.

New York was easy to identify, the Statue of Liberty perched on Liberty Island with a sort of defiant dignity. It was a stark contrast to the monster dragging itself ashore.

The kaiju was tremendous and its build was vaguely reminiscent of Mutavore -- save for the face, of course. The face was like a chameleon, eyes bulging out and twitching to focus on its surroundings, and when it opened its mouth to roar it had rows of teeth, a thousand tremendous fangs bristling like thorns.

A few people were bunched around Herc, and he vaguely realized it was a few of the jaeger pilots. Max Jones looked mortified, and Herc remembered he was looking at his hometown getting invaded by a giant alien. Herc sympathized.

The kaiju spotted the Statue of Liberty and snarled. It paced around the sculpture -- which was tiny compared to the kaiju, the monster had to be at least five hundred fifty feet tall, maybe more.

It doesn’t understand why the statue isn’t moving, Herc realized. It doesn’t understand it’s looking at a damn art piece instead of a jaeger.

After a moment the kaiju lunged forward, grappling the statue and crushing it as easily as Herc would crush a beer can.

“Dude,” Shay said. “He knocked over Lady Liberty! The French gave us that!”

“Rude,” Nizhoni agreed.

“Of all the things you could have said about this situation--” Rebel started before Herc turned to point at them.

“You lot, suit up, now!” he ordered, and they all ran to obey.

Herc turned back to the screen, grimacing as the kaiju plunged back into the water, aiming itself at Manhattan. “This is a goddamn nightmare.”

“We’re ready this time,” Tendo said, shooting orders out to get the jaegers ready for launch.

“Thank god,” Herc grumbled before reaching for the comm system. “Becket and Mori! Suit up and meet me at the Dome, five minutes ago!”

They must have already known the kaiju had appeared, because by the time he got the estimated category and code name of the kaiju -- category five, Harbinger -- and got down the steps to the Shatterdome, Mako and Raleigh were in their suits and waiting for him.

“Suited up and ready to lead the team, sir,” Mako said.

“No. I need you to follow Harbinger’s trail back to wherever this new Breach opened up,” Herc told them, and Raleigh and Mako glanced at each other.

“Sir, we should be with the new rangers--” Raleigh started, and Herc cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

“The four of them can handle one kaiju, even if it’s as big as Harbinger is,” he said. “You two need to find the Breach and be ready in case another kaiju comes through, or god forbid another one’s already come through. You’ll be carrying the bomb -- I expect you to take care of yourself.”

Mako and Raleigh nodded, wiping the uncertainty from their faces.

“Beta Danger, your ride is ready,” Tendo called down from the LOCCENT, and Raleigh grinned.

“Let’s go fishing,” he said to Mako, and her return smile was predatory.

~~~

Jumphawks were surprisingly fast transports, considering their cargo was almost two thousand tons, but it still took three hours to reach New York from Panama. Herc was on the comms throughout the entire trip, keeping the pilots current.

“Harbinger’s doubled back and he’s staying in New York, close to the coastline,” he told them. “He’s focusing on the skyscrapers, and it’s slowing him down.”

“Is he in Brooklyn?” Max asked.

“Heading back that way,” Herc reported, and Max let out a shaky breath.

“Marshal, we’re getting calls from the PPDC,” Tendo said.

“Tell ‘em I’m busy.”

“Pretty sure that’s what they want to hear,” Tendo told him, then returned to the phone. Herc went to the edge of the LOCCENT platform to call to Newton, who was scrambling around for data and pictures.

“Geiszler! Why would this thing have swum right past Brooklyn to get to Liberty Island?” he shouted.

“Standard curiosity?” Newt offered. “He was probably going to land sooner, but found the bay and decided to snoop around a bit. Honestly, they’re really cool, but typically kaiju aren’t too bright when it comes to directions.”

Herc grunted and went back to the comms.

“Marshal, we’ve reached the New York Bight and Beta Danger is disengaging to begin recon,” Raleigh said.

“Copy that, Beta. Stay sharp, there could be a second one coming along soon,” Herc warned. “J-Units Strider-Fortuna and Avenger-Gamma, be ready to land. Harbinger is cutting through Brooklyn and making his way back to Manhattan Beach.”

“Where?” Nizhoni asked.

“Jones can get you there,” Herc said. “Ready to disengage.”

“Disengaging--”

And one right after the other the jumphawks released their jaegers, jerking up into the sky as the mechs hurtled to land in the bay.

~~~

The maps said Harbinger was smashing his way through Sheepshead, and Max was certain he was going to puke.

“They probably evacuated a ton of people already,” Avery assured him gently, and his thoughts were just as stubbornly hopeful.

“Rangers, advance,” Marshal Hansen called.

Gamma Codex hit the beach first, and the others were just behind it.

“J-U Strider-Fortuna taking left flank,” Nasrin offered.

“Avenger-Gamma takes right, then,” Quinn replied, and they entered the forest of skyscrapers.

“Chances of the kaiju knowing we’re coming?” Shay asked.

“Slim -- so far’s we know, they don’t know we kept up the program,” Devanshi replied.

“Chances of that being an actual advantage?” Quinn asked.

“Meh.”

“That’s not an answer,” Rebel complained.

“Rangers, we’ve got Harbinger approaching--”

Gamma turned the corner and there was Harbinger.

Gamma looked at the kaiju. The kaiju looked at Gamma. Its eyes swiveled around to look at them dead-on, and Max thought that was possibly the grossest thing he’d ever seen.

“Well, he seems just as surprised to see us as we are to see him,” Avery said before Harbinger roared and lunged for them.

Avery and Max backpedaled, jerking away from what would have been a nasty collision, then continued backing away, hands up and ready to grapple.

“Sir, we’ve got Harbinger on us, what’s our plan?” Avery asked.

“Lead him back to the water if you can,” Herc said. “We want to minimize casualties.”

“Copy that,” Avery said, and Gamma leapt forward to sock Harbinger in the face before turning and sprinting for the coastline.

The kaiju screamed, the vibrations shattered the glass of the buildings around it, and then Harbinger gave chase.

Harbinger was fast, but Gamma had a head start, and it wasn’t long before the jaeger passed the final line of buildings.

“Gotcha,” Quinn’s voice echoed through the comms, and when Gamma turned to face Harbinger they saw Avenger coming in from the side, crashing into the kaiju and knocking it off balance. Harbinger’s massive claws swung out and Avenger pulled back, avoiding the hit before lunging in again to land a crushing blow on the monster’s chameleon-like eye. The twitching protrusion burst under the force, blue blood sliding like a thick river down its scaly cheek, and Harbinger screamed again.

“Back to the ocean,” Avery said, and Avenger hooked its fingers into the new hole in Harbinger’s face and jerked it towards the waterline. “Oh, that’s fucking repulsive--”

This time Quinn and Rebel were too slow to avoid Harbinger’s swing, and they were nearly knocked on their ass by a thousand tons of pressure suddenly focused on their right shoulder. They lost their grip on the kaiju’s face, but managed to get their bearings and duck away from the next hit, turning and following Gamma to the ocean. Harbinger loped towards them.

“LOCCENT, severe damage to right shoulder, near loss of movement,” Quinn reported.

“Gamma, Avenger, we’re almost to you,” Nasrin reported, and then Strider and Fortuna emerged from the city, converging on Harbinger. “Gonna knock him off balance, alright?”

“Leading with plasma casters, gonna knock him on his ass,” Nizhoni said, and Strider’s arm was glowing with force before she and Devanshi even lifted it. “Now!”

There was light, heat, and then a blast of blue-green light crashed into Harbinger from Strider Juno, blasting off a good chunk of skin and searing the wound shut in the same instant. Fortuna Charge were echoing the action before Harbinger had time to react, knocking the kaiju to its bone-plated knees in the sand.

“Strider, Fortuna, this is Gamma ready to engage,” Avery announced, and Strider and Fortuna pulled their canons back to let Gamma Codex reach out to drag Harbinger into the sea.

Harbinger roared, the sound making the audio feeds whine, then threw its weight against Gamma. Max and Avery grunted, the force echoing through their bodies, and Harbinger dragged its claws down the jaeger’s front. Sharp pain tore up their chests, and Max bit back a cry.

“Ave!” Quinn’s voice snarled, and then Avenger was whipping out its left wrist sword and driving the razor’s edge up under Harbinger’s arm. Harbinger screamed again and swung its arm, catching Avenger’s head in a brutal backhand that knocked them off balance.

“Comin’ in!” Shay yelled as Fortuna Charge leapt onto the kaiju’s back, slamming its spiked knuckles into the relatively soft flesh at the back of Harbinger’s neck.

One punch, two, three, and Harbinger was reeling from the attack. It bellowed, shook Fortuna off, then it staggered further into the water, paddling almost feebly for the open sea.

“Kaiju trying to return to Breach,” Devanshi called, and Fortuna grabbed Harbinger by the nape and swung it into Strider’s waiting hands.

Nizhoni and Devanshi bellowed as Strider brought its locked elbow down on the top of Harbinger’s skull.

Harbinger didn’t make a sound, just gave one last violent twitch before it crashed down beneath the water, sinking slowly into the sand.

“Kaiju class five codenamed Harbinger killed off New York City,” Tendo announced, reading off the standard report, and Shay let out a whoop of delight.

“Rangers!” Herc shouted before the others could fall into proper celebration. “We need you to carry that carcass back to the Breach. Beta Danger’s got the bomb we’re going to strap to it to send back through. Pick up the damn pace!”

~~~

“Navigation says we’re practically on top of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge,” Raleigh said.

“Radiation levels spiking, we’re definitely on the right path,” Mako added. “LOCCENT, are you receiving these?”

“Coming in loud and clear, Mako,” Tendo reported. “We’ve got every step you took marked down.”

“Whoa,” Raleigh said, and Mako felt a gentle press of relief and a bit of awe. “I think we’ve got it.”

Instruments were reading intense residual radiation, and even the visuals could make out the violent blast marks along the ocean floor. As if a bomb had gone off deep beneath the Atlantic.

“LOCCENT, we think we have the location of the Breach,” Mako reported. “What next?”

“The others have killed Harbinger, and Strider and Fortuna are dragging him to you,” Tendo said. “They’ll be there in thirty minutes, tops.”

“Just Strider and Fortuna?” Mako asked, and Raleigh’s sudden stab of fear sank into her heart. “Where are Avenger and Gamma?”

“They’re fine,” Tendo assured her. “We’re holding them back in case of a double event.”

Relief sagged Mako and Raleigh’s shoulders. “Understood. We’ll stand by for Strider and Fortuna.”

“Copy that. Hang in there, we’re almost done.”

~~~

“Sir?” Mako said. “The Breach isn’t responding to Harbinger.”

Herc squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the headache he knew was coming. “How close are you to the Breach?”

“Judging from the disturbance and scorching here,” Raleigh said, “we’re right on top of it.”

“Radiation levels confirm that’s the most likely spot, sir,” Tendo agreed.

“Are you saying the Breach isn’t opening up again?” Rebel demanded.

“Maybe they figured out how to make it a one-way opening,” Nasrin offered.

“Doors open two ways,” Nizhoni said.

“You try pushing on a pull door, see how far that gets you,” Shay replied.

“Shouldn’t the Breach be responding to Harbinger’s genetic signature?” Quinn asked.

“Exactly. Why else would he be heading back this way? He obviously expected to return to the Breach,” Devanshi said.

“Maybe it’s because he’s dead,” Avery said, and there was heavy silence over the comm.

“The last time you closed the Breach, you rode in on the body of a dead kaiju,” Max said when it was obvious no-one wanted to even touch that idea. “Maybe they found a way to only let the Breach respond to a live one?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Raleigh said. “Either they changed up the code to only let living kaiju through, or they figured out how to make it a one-way street, or they just closed it up when they saw we were gunning for it. The point is…”

“We’re not closing this Breach,” Mako finished. “Not today.”

Herc took a deep breath, then nodded. “Roger that. Rangers, fall back. I want Harbinger’s body cracked open on a slab by six tonight, hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” they all said, and then Herc turned to the waiting members of the Shatterdome.

He pointed up at the war clock, hanging dark and silent over the main entrance. “Reset the clock. We’ve got work to do.”

~~~

Chapter Text

“My advisers have suggested we make Liberty Island the location for a new Shatterdome,” the new US PPDC rep said. He was a serious looking man, tired eyes set deeply in his dark face, his hair tight salt and pepper curls. E. Goddard, the little notes at the corner of his screen said. Herc liked him already. “Nostalgia purposes, I suppose. Americans tend to hold their grudges that way.”

“I understand perfectly,” Herc said. “It’s a good spot for a new Dome.”

“Maybe, maybe not. We’re not known for being reasonable. Marshal, I would like to take a moment to thank you for everything you’re doing here. I know the PPDC hasn’t been kind to you the past few years.”

Herc hesitated -- what did he say to that? What would Stacker have said?

Goddard’s expression darkened, regret wrinkling his forehead. “If you’re far enough away from the issues, I find it’s much easier to pretend they aren’t there. I don’t intend to make those mistakes, Marshal Hansen. I’m going to keep my people safe from this new threat. I will personally be paying for a sizable portion of the Liberty Shatterdome. Whatever funding you need for it, please contact me directly.”

“I -- sir--”

“It’s been a pleasure speaking to you, Marshal,” Goddard said, and he signed off.

Herc looked over to Tendo, who smirked. “I like that guy.”

Herc chuckled, then cracked his neck. “Alright. Who’s next?”

~~~

“What are people along the Atlantic Coasts supposed to do?” a reporter all but shouted in Raleigh’s face.

“People are already packing up and leaving -- our infrastructure is going to be irretrievably damaged!” another yelled at Mako.

“Are you two dating?” yet another bellowed, and the press of journalists shoved forward to get their microphones closer.

Raleigh remembered when he loved things like this, with Yancy at his side as they retold some epic battle. The questions had been a lot different, then.

“How is Marshal Hansen dealing with these issues?”

“How does he compare to Marshal Pentecost?”

“There’s already a second class at the Panama Ranger Academy -- when should we be expecting new pilots?”

“When will we get the designs of the new jaegers?”

“It’s been a week since Harbinger made land -- how long until the next kaiju comes through?”

“Can we -- can we slow this down?” Raleigh asked, trying to stand his ground. “One question at a time, please.”

“We don’t know when the next kaiju will come through,” Mako said. “Presumably the aliens sending the kaiju to us are still testing the limits of the new Breach.”

“So you don’t know?” someone in the back squawked.

“We have already set up sensors around the Breach -- as soon as another kaiju comes through, we’ll know and we’ll have our jaegers ready,” Mako said.

“Why can’t we get interviews with the new pilots?”

“Can you explain the J-Units to us?”

“The new pilots are keeping up a steady training regimen and are too busy for interviews,” Raleigh said. “Until we get more jaegers--”

“Are you saying that they may not be ready for this new war?”

“What? No, that’s not what I--”

“But if they still need training, then--!”

“Pilots need as much maintenance and care as jaegers do,” Mako said in a careful, serious voice that she deliberately styled after Pentecost. Raleigh bumped his hand against hers, and she straightened up. “They are our best defense against the kaiju, and we plan to keep them at their best.”

“And the same can’t be said of you two?” a smirking woman asked, her recorder at the ready. Mako’s calm expression shifted slightly.

“Someone had to speak to you all,” Mako said. “We drew the short straw.”

Raleigh tamped down on his laughter but couldn’t hide his grin, his eyes flickering between the affronted reporter and Mako’s smug half-smile.

He supposed interviews weren’t that bad.

~~~

“I brought you a sandwich,” Avery said, climbing up to Max’s bunk. He dropped the plate next to Max’s knee and smiled brightly. “Any luck?”

Max didn’t look away from his computer screen. “No.”

His back hurt from being hunched for so long. He should probably sit up. He couldn’t take his eyes from his instant messenger.

Avery climbed up the rest of the way and folded his legs, curling forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I heard a lot of people have been, uh, relocated to public shelters? And that it’s been difficult for them to contact their families. So Sarah probably, like, doesn’t have access to her instant messenger or a phone that can call to Panama.”

“Huh.” Max didn’t straighten up. Avery reached out to nudge the sandwich a little closer.

“You should have some food,” Avery said. “I made it with, like… love, and also ham.”

“I’m good.”

“Rebel wanted to add sprinkles, but I figured you wouldn’t want any. I can go get you some sprinkles, if you want. She said she liked adding sprinkles to her sandwiches, and they don’t really add any flavor but they look pretty cool--”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you like green, we’ve actually got green sprinkles.”

“Avery.”

“You gotta eat something, man.”

Max looked up and blinked a few times, trying to bring Avery into focus. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you said that.” Avery picked up the sandwich and took a bite. “Okay, if I tell you the terrible truth about this sandwich, will you eat it?”

“What -- I mean, I guess it depends on what the terrible truth is?”

“Okay, so apparently me and Quinn and Rebel are bad at making sandwiches,” Avery said, “so Ranger Becket made it for us.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah dude, it’s intense. Eat the fucking sandwich.”

“I’m not--”

His instant messenger chimed, and Max nearly had a seizure. Avery choked on his second bite of the sandwich. “I -- can’t breathe, holy shi--”

Max brought up the video call and put a smile on his face. “Kyle!”

Kyle looked haggard and delighted to see him. Avery’s expression twisted into a grimace. “Max!”

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Max asked. Avery rolled off the top bunk and landed on his feet, then began pacing around the room. “Ave, quit that.”

“I’m -- well, I mean, I’m not dead,” Kyle said. “Shit, Max! What the fuck!”

Max hummed sympathetically. “Yeah, it’s -- Avery, quit stomping around.”

“Is that your copilot?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah, he’s -- his name’s Avery. He's from Los Angeles,” Max told him. Kyle hadn’t called him since he joined the Academy and had never messaged him to learn about Max actually making it far enough to get a copilot. “Kyle, have you seen Sarah?”

“What, your cousin Sarah?”

“Yeah, Kyle, my cousin Sarah.”

“Jesus, don’t get all fucking snippy with me, Max,” Kyle snapped. “And -- dude, what the fuck is your copilot doing?”

“What?” Max turned around to where Avery was peeking up over the bunk, his eyes wide and innocent. “Nothing, he’s just standing there.”

He turned back to the screen, and Kyle was looking scandalized. “He’s making faces at me!”

Max whipped back around, and Avery shrugged, looking very perplexed by Kyle’s accusation. Max turned back again. “No he isn’t, that’s just his face.”

“He just fucking flipped me off!”

“Did not!” Avery shouted, ducking away when Max turned to him again.

“What the fuck, Max!” Kyle snarled.

“Avery, what the fuck!” Max scolded. Avery's arm reached up, snatched the sandwich, then disappeared back into his lower bunk. “Christ.”

“Get a damn hold of him,” Kyle said. “Fuckin’ coastie.”

Max’s vision blacked out for a second, then he whipped around. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said watch your fucking mouth,” Max said. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a coastie now, too. Don’t fucking talk about Avery like that.”

“Are you really fucking doing this right n--”

“Yeah, I’m fucking doing this right now,” Max said. “Don’t call me back unless you’re calling to tell me where Sarah is. I’m done.”

He slammed on the end call button, then slapped his laptop shut. He sat there for a moment, shaking a little, before Avery spoke quietly. “I was making faces at him.”

“I know.”

“And I flipped him off.”

“I know.”

Avery was quiet for another minute or so, then crawled up and set the sandwich on top of Max’s computer. “Thanks for not letting him call me a coastie.”

Max picked up the sandwich and took a bite. “This tastes great.”

Avery smiled. “I’m glad.”

~~~

“Once the Liberty Dome is completed, I’m going to need you to serve as Head Officers there,” Herc said.

Mako and Raleigh stared up at him.

“Sir,” Mako finally said, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. “We are… very grateful for this opportunity…”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Herc said. “God willing we’ll have enough jaegers for you to actually command there by the time it opens. I can’t be in two places at once. I have to be here making sure the new recruits get their training. You two have to be heading the other Shatterdome.”

“You can appoint other officers,” Mako said.

“I don’t know those people,” Herc told him. “I know you. I know Raleigh. I trust you two. I know you’ll be able to do this.”

Raleigh and Mako looked at each other, then back at him.

“And when another Shatterdome opens somewhere else?” Raleigh asked. “Will we be separated again? Spread even thinner?”

“Maybe,” Herc said, and they winced. “I’m sorry. Until we have enough officers who I know will do what they’re supposed to…”

“We understand, sir,” Mako said after a moment of silence. “We won’t let you down.”

Herc sighed heavily, closing his eyes. “I know you won’t.”

~~~

Rebel and Quinn loved looking after the new recruits. Rebel thought they were endearing, and Quinn liked barking orders at them.

"You wash that dog, recruits!" Quinn shouted as a few of them chased after Max the bulldog, who was covered in suds and scrambling to escape the kiddie pool they had set up to bathe him in. Five recruits had gotten the unfortunate task of bathing Max this week, for some crime Rebel hadn't cared enough about to learn. Three young women and two young men struggled over the grumbling dog, trying desperately to scrub him down.

"Whoops!" Rebel laughed when Max tore himself out of some poor girl's hands. This yanked her off balance and sent her crashing into the pool. That, in turn, sent dirty water sloshing over the sides onto the cement floor of one of the many unused classrooms of the Academy. "Quinn, maybe we should have done this outside."

"What, and have Max running through the streets of Panama?" Quinn demanded. "No chance. Keep a hold of him, you ninnies, he's getting away!"

The walkie-talkie on Rebel's hip buzzed, and Rebel whipped it to her ear. "Yes, sir!"

"How's that dog wash going, Kaur?" Marshal Hansen asked.

"We're overseeing it personally, sir!"

"Excellent. Tell them to get the mud between his toes, too."

"Yes, sir!"

"Over and out," Marshal Hansen said, and Rebel put the walkie-talkie back on her belt.

"Marshal Hansen says to get between his toes!" she announced, and the recruits groaned.

"What did you all even do to get Max-sitting duty?" Quinn asked.

"Failed a test," one recruit growled. "That we had ten minutes to study for."

"You got ten minutes?" Quinn demanded.

"In the old program, we got five minutes to study," Rebel said.

"And we liked it."

The recruit stared at her, and another recruit -- a girl with brown skin who was maybe five feet tall thanks to her bushy brown hair -- laughed so hard her hold of Max slipped.

"Sorry! Sorry!" she said, yanking Max back into the pool. She had a slight accent that Rebel couldn't place. She also generally seemed like the only one of this particular lot who wasn't in a constant bad mood. "There you go, Max! Who's a good boy?"

Max looked up at her, struck once again by the question that plagued dogs everywhere -- who was the good boy? and really, aren't we all good boys, deep down in our earnest canine hearts? -- and she managed to rub more shampoo into his fur. "You are! What a good boy, Max!"

"Will you stop talking to him like that?" the first recruit asked, a young man who seemed exhausted and cranky. "What was your name, Helen? Harriet?"

"Hermione!" the girl said. "Hermione Strong, from Morocco!"

"Wait, Strong like Tariq Strong, that, uh... the clean energy dude, like a bajillionare or something?" Rebel asked. Hermione lit up.

"Yes! That is my father. Me and my friend Simon--"

"You let go of the damn dog!" the guy yelped, lunging to pull Max back only to land in the pool himself. He snarled something that may have been an expletive but was muffled by the soapy water.

Hermione laughed. "Carson! We are not bathing you. Get out of the pool!"

She reached out to help him up, and he smacked her hands away. "Get the fuck off!"

"Sheesh! You don't need to be upset because you fell in," Hermione told him. "I fell in too, before!"

"God, would you shut the fuck up?" Carson shouted at her. "You're so fucking annoying!"

"Could you not yell in my face?" Hermione asked, baring her teeth in a forced smile. "Your breath smells worse than Max's."

"Oh shit!" another recruit cried, taking interest for the first time. She grinned, glancing between Hermione and Carson. Max took the opportunity to sprint out of their grasp, slip, drop onto his soapy belly, and slide into the wall with a wet thud. Rebel laughed so hard she doubled over.

"Sage, could you and Jael grab Max?" asked the young man that had arrived at the Academy with Hermione Strong as her copilot candidate. The recruit who had been excited about the potential fight slumped, growled, and went chasing after Max, along with the young woman who she spent most of her time with. "Hermione, this is not the place for this."

"Of course not!" Hermione agreed, her smile easing up a little into something more natural. "The Kwoon is!"

"No, that's not what I--"

This was quickly devolving, but Rebel was too busy cackling at Sage and Jael -- two of the meanest-looking recruits, the ones everyone was certain were probably gang members -- as they struggled to latch onto Max without slipping.

"Look -- Quinn, look at them, they've got soap everywhere I'm going to cry--"

"Hey!" Quinn snapped at Hermione and Carson, who looked ready to drown each other in the kiddie pool. "You're cleaning up this dog, not having a pissing contest. Back to work!"

Carson and Hermione shot her a look, then pulled back and went to help Sage and Jael with the dog.

Rebel was ready to fall into renewed laughter at these shenanigans, but Quinn grabbed her arm. "We may have a problem."

~~~

“Marshal Hansen!” a familiar, gravelly voice called, and Herc whipped around with much more excitement than he was expecting. It was good to hear familiar voices, these days.

“Vic!” he laughed, grinning, and Victoria Thrasher jogged up to grab his hand in a firm shake. She looked just the same as ever, short blonde hair and bright blue eyes set in a predatory sort of face. Victoria had copiloted Charter Dingo, a Mark Two jaeger back in what Herc was reluctantly considering the good old days. Copiloted it along with her husband, who was…

A young girl hurried to Vic’s side, and she looked so much like Griffon Warden-Thrasher it made Herc’s heart clench. Her tight curls were pinned back out of her brown face, and she had a sort of aggressive look in her eyes that reminded him painfully of Chuck. “Skye! Last time I saw you, you were about three feet tall.”

“And most of it was my hair,” Skye said, rolling her eyes like it was a joke she had gotten tired of long ago. “Yeah. Hilarious.”

“Hey, shape up, kiddo,” her mother scolded. “Be nice to Marshal Hansen. He’s ancient.”

“Ouch,” Herc said.

“Yes, is very old. Just like the rest of us.” yet another familiar voice agreed, and Vitya Maksimoff and Miroslav Volkov sauntered up to rest their elbows on Skye’s shoulders. She jerked back fast enough for them to lose their balance and stumble a bit, then pointed and laughed as they pulled themselves upright. Vitya and Miroslav had never piloted before, but they had been PPDC Strike Troopers all through the K-War. They had always been friendly with Vic and Griff. Herc had never been particularly close to them -- it was more of a ‘friend of a friend’ sort of thing, at least in his mind.

“So we decide to sign up for your new war, Marshal,” Miroslav added, smiling. He was tall, and his hair was a bright shock of blonde over his weathered face, and Vitya beside him was just as tall, just as weathered, but with hair black as pitch and sticking up every which way in what Herc figured was permanent helmet hair.

“Yes, is quite exciting! We hope to be pilots this time around, though,” Vitya said. “In my opinion, is much easier to be pilot than be Strike Trooper!”

“Oh my god,” Vic said, dragging her hand down the side of her face. “Shut the fuck up, Vitaliy.”

“Noooo, do not say my ugly old-man name! Is Vitya, you hag!”

“Vitaliy,” Skye said, grinning, and Vitya reached out to yank her into a headlock. “Get off of me, ya damn goat!”

“No, is very comfortable this way,” Vitya said, and Skye twisted to sock him in the kidneys.

“Could you get your hubby off my kid? I gotta talk to Herc for a second,” Vic asked Miroslav, and he laughed and went to start peeling Vitya and Skye away from each other. Herc smiled and followed her as she led him a few feet away from the scuffle.

“Herc, I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Vic said, and Herc hunched his shoulders a little. “I’m sorry about Chuck. I’m sorry about Pentecost. I… I’m sorry we didn’t sign up sooner. We were scared. We didn’t want to think this sort of thing would happen again. I’m sorry we weren’t there for you when you needed us.”

“I know,” Herc said. “It’s fine.”

Vic scowled. “No. When Griff died, I… I broke down, Herc. I thought we’d go together, down in our jaeger. Not just one of us dying in a hospital bed. It hit me hard, and I… well, I gave up. I don’t want my daughter to see me giving up again.”

Herc folded his arms over his chest and looked down at his feet. “I understand.”

“You’re a good man, Hercules Hansen,” Vic said. “I’m proud of you. I admire you. And I… I know Chuck felt the same way, even if he didn’t always like you. He was a good man, too. I want my girl to be even half as good as your boy. I want that for her.”

Herc felt pressure building up behind his eyes and he blinked quickly to keep any tears at bay. He swallowed a few times to keep his voice from cracking. “Thank you.”

Vic nodded, then turned to where Skye was viciously kicking Vitya in the shins. “Oh, come on, you two. Vitya, you are a grown-ass man--”

She hurried over to help pull them apart, and Herc rubbed his face, straightened out, and went back to his work.

~~~

Quinn could always tell when two people really hated each other, like really wanted to kick the shit out of each other. Hermione wasn't really an aggressive-looking girl, so it was hard to tell with her, but Carson's obvious fury more than made up for it.

So of course, Quinn dragged them both into the Kwoon for a 'training session.' The fightmaster -- who would only answer to Mister Jaybird and was probably strong enough to snap Quinn in half -- seemed to understand what was going on, and he laid down a few ground rules for Hermione and Carson to follow. No bone-breaking, no headshots, no biting. The general rules of the Kwoon, really, but Mister Jaybird was watching Carson and Hermione warm up with an uncommon sort of intensity.

"So you think this is going to work?" Rebel asked her.

"When two dogs don't get along, they have to fight it out to see which one will be in charge," Quinn said.

"Well, sure. But Carson and Hermione aren't dogs, Quinn."

"Going to contribute anything to the gambling pool?" Hermione's enormous friend asked. Simon? Quinn vaguely recalled him being called Simon. He was almost uncomfortably attractive, with dark brown skin, a friendly face, and intense black eyes. She tried not to look at him for too long.

"Ten bucks on Carson winning," she said. Simon laughed.

"You're betting on him? Really?"

"Dude, she's like two feet tall and maybe ten pounds," Quinn laughed, pointing at Hermione, who was stretching her arms and smiling like she was having the greatest time. "Of course I'm betting on him."

"Okay, okay, let me make a deal with you," Simon said. "If he wins, I'll give you ten bucks. If Hermione wins, you'll have a lunch date with me."

He grinned like it was the best idea he'd ever had, and Quinn laughed and tried not to blush. "Haha, oh my god. Sure, dude, you're on."

Hermione had settled down into a beginning stance, still smiling at Carson, and Simon turned to call to her. "Herm, if you win I get to go on a date with this girl! She said yes and everything."

Hermione's face lit up. "Really? Okay, awesome!"

"And, go!" Mister Jaybird shouted, backing quickly off the mat to give them space.

Carson lunged for a grapple, and Hermione ducked under his arms and flipped his legs out from under him, landing him wheezing on his back. Then she sat on his stomach and waved at Simon. "Have fun on your date, Si!"

Quinn stared for a moment before turning back to Simon. "Uh. I'm Quinn Barcenas, by the way."

His smile was radiant. "Simon Malombo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled back, trying not to giggle. "Likewise."

~~~

Once Harbinger had been dragged across pretty much the entire Atlantic, his primary brain had rotted away and his secondary brain was severely decayed. There were enough remains for Hannibal and Slater to swoop in and pluck away like vultures with guns, fortunately. Newt figured they wouldn’t like it if they didn’t get to sell any piece of Harbinger. They left a bit for him to screw around with, which was also fortunate, since Newt had, like, a job to do and all that junk.

“Secondary brain would be impossible to drift with,” Newt said into his recorder. “I mean, god, look at this poor thing. I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.”

“Would you stop that?” Hermann called from his side of the lab. “You sound like a child.”

“Your face sounds like a child!” Newt called back. Hermann snorted and shook his head. Which was nice, because three years ago this would have escalated into a screaming match that would end with Newt smearing kaiju fluids all over Hermann’s cabinets and Hermann tattling on him to Marshal Pentecost. This sort of thing, a bit snappish but not really terrible, this was nice.

“Hermann, did I leave my tweezers over there?” Newt asked.

“Good lord, I hope not.” Hermann looked around, lifting a few of his folders to check under them. “I don’t see them. Are you sure they aren’t over there?”

“Ugh. They might be. The tiny tweezers.”

“Ah, I was looking for those large ones.” Hermann rolled his chair back to get a better look at his surroundings. “Small tweezers, small tweezers…”

“Oh, nevermind! I got ‘em. Sorry.” Newt pulled them out of the lymph node he had been working on. He sighed. “Sorry.”

“You’ve been very absent-minded, lately,” Hermann said. “You should rest.”

“I’m just… I really wanted to get a good look at this guy,” Newt said.

“I know.”

“I’m just kinda bummed out about how I hardly got anything to work with, here.”

“Understandable.”

“He’s not even all that different from any of the others,” Newton said. “I mean, I know he’s a clone so he's pretty much exactly the same in all but shape, but like… he’s so boring.”

“I’m sure you shouldn’t tell that to the pilots who fought him.”

“Why not?”

“Newton.”

“Sorry.” He fiddled with the node for a moment before tossing his tweezers down. “Hermann. I don’t think you and I can drift with any more kaiju.”

“Oh, thank god,” Hermann said.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I. That’s not something I looked forward to doing with you, Newton.”

“Well. Yeah. But like, we have way too much information about the new program that we can’t risk giving to the Precursors.”

Hermann turned his chair around to fix Newt with a serious look. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you sound like you plan on putting this burden onto somebody else. We have too much information, but others may not.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Newton.”

“Hermann!”

“Newton, that is… it’s exceptionally cruel,” Hermann said.

“Duh. But so is telling someone to become soulmates with a giant robot, in my opinion.”

“You can’t possibly compare drifting in a jaeger with what we did.”

“Why not? Both things were done to win a war. Both things are… they’re connecting your brain to something big and deadly and inhuman.”

“Are you drunk?” Hermann asked. He pulled himself out of his chair, gripping his cane tightly as he hobbled across the room to loom over Newt. “You are! You’ve been drinking!”

“I had, like, a cup of rum!” Newton said. “Two cups. With orange juice. A splash of orange juice. On top of two cups of rum.”

“Newton, you have to stop pushing yourself so hard, this is going to destroy you,” Hermann said. “I’m worried about you. You -- you’re my friend, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself over your work.”

“I’m fine,” Newton said. “I’m totally fine. But if we drift again, if we try to get more information from the Anteverse, we’ll give them just as much information as we take, man. We can’t risk that.”

Hermann looked down at him, and Newton blinked a few times to make sure he was perfectly in focus. “I… I suppose that is a… reasonable… concern. On your part, Newton.”

“We’ll write up the paperwork when I’m less drunk,” Newton said, and Hermann laughed a little and patted him on the shoulder.

“You need some sleep,” he said, and Newton was glad about how far they had come, that he could say that with more fondness than rage.

~~~

Chapter Text

Raleigh did not have an office. He wasn’t sure what he would do in one, for starters. Look over schematics for Beta Danger? He could do that just fine in his room. Examine the files of the new rangers and new recruits? The conference room was good for going over stuff with Herc, and Mako’s office was good for going over stuff with her.

He could definitely see why Mako got an office. Mako needed everything to be a certain way and for everything to have a certain place. Raleigh could close up his folders and drop them on the floor by his bed and be okay with it, but Mako was significantly more methodical. If the papers weren’t filed and stored properly in their own cabinet, it would pick at the back of her mind and bug her all day. She would worry about mixing up papers or losing them. A definite work-space was pretty much essential to Mako’s peace of mind.

That didn’t mean her office was sterile, of course. Mako’s walls were plastered with blueprints and pictures of jaegers. Her desk always had some project or another stacked on it. But she knew where everything was, and since the door was always open to him, so did Raleigh.

"Happy Halloween, Mako," he said, pulling something out of his pocket before sitting down across from her. "I brought candy."

Mako laughed and accepted the root beer barrels he handed her. "Thank you."

"When me and Yancy were Rangers, we always set up little pranks for Halloween," Raleigh said. "You know, putting plastic spiders in people's closets, fake blood on walls, that sort of thing."

"Ah, no wonder everyone liked you so much."

"Yeah, we got our asses kicked a couple of times. Worth it to see Tendo find a plastic cockroach in his box of donuts."

"Donuts?"

"Before he went all healthy diet bagel guy." Raleigh pulled some of Mako's paperwork over to look at. "Designs for the Liberty Dome?"

"It's already underway. It should be ready by February at the latest."

"What was that face?"

"Excuse me?"

"That..." Raleigh widened his eyes and huffed out a breath, then relaxed. "Face. Overwhelmed."

Mako sighed and rubbed her face with both hands. "I'm just... I know we've been preparing, but I feel like we're scrambling to catch up again. We have the Panama Dome, which isn't anywhere near the Breach."

"We can defend a good chunk of ground from the Panama Dome," Raleigh assured her.

"We can cover the Southeast of North America, the Northeast of South America, and Central America. We can't defend Europe or Africa from here. We can barely defend any other parts of the Americas."

"This is enough for now," Raleigh said. "We weren't sure about where the Breach would be, exactly. We know now, and we're responding. We've got jaegers, we've got the forewarning that this is going to keep happening, and we've got the will to keep going."

Mako looked at him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. Then she relaxed and her smile was a bit weary. "You're right. I'm worrying too much."

"You're worrying just enough," Raleigh told her.

“Maybe,” she sighed. Raleigh watched her for a moment, then stood up.

"You know what I want?" Raleigh asked.

"Clothes that don't smell like nachos?" Mako suggested.

"One of those crescent rolls from the bakery down the street. They are about as big as my head, I swear." He held up his hands on either side of his head to demonstrate the miraculous size of the rolls, and she smiled. "Wanna walk down and get one with me? Or two, because I'm not sharing mine."

"Really?"

"Really."

She shook her head and stood up from her desk. "Alright, let me put my shoes on."

“We should go trick-or-treating,” Raleigh said, grinning.

“Raleigh, no.”

“Oh, come on, it’d be funny.”

“No,” she insisted, but she was trying not to giggle at the idea of it. She pulled on her combat boots and tied them as Raleigh rattled off a few arguments in favor of trick-or-treating.

“Plus, candy. I need to fill up my candy supplies, Mako. I only have, like, a year’s worth left.”

“You’re being silly,” Mako accused as she stood up and grabbed her jacket.

Raleigh shrugged in a ‘maybe, maybe not’ sort of way, then held his arm out. She took it and they walked out of her office, shutting the door behind them.

“Halloween isn’t really celebrated in Japan, not the way it is in America,” she said as they traveled through the winding halls of the Panama Shatterdome. “But in my first few years living with Sensei, he would help me dress up in a costume and I would walk around whatever Dome we were in, giving candy to people.”

“That’s sort of the opposite of what’s supposed to happen,” Raleigh said, and Mako chuckled.

“Well, I was still very excited about it.”

“Me and Yancy and Jazmine had Halloween on lock, every year,” Raleigh told her. “We moved around a lot, but we had an eye for knowing who would give out the best candies and which kids would trade you a chocolate bar for some really nasty stuff, like candy corn or whatever. We were pretty much Halloween masters.”

“What sort of costumes did you wear?” Mako asked.

“We always had a sort of theme, that always got the best candy,” Raleigh said. “Man, what sort of stuff did we do… Oh, one year Jaz was a witch and me and Yancy were her pet zombies. That was great.”

“That… sounds interesting,” Mako admitted.

“Like I said, Mako. Halloween masters, Becket family edition.”

“I see.”

“What did you dress up as?”

Mako went a little red. “Well, one year I was a cat. Sensei helped me paint on a nose and whiskers.”

“Oh my god,” Raleigh said. “That’s amazing.”

Mako hid her face in one hand. “This is embarrassing.”

“I’m just imagining him painting a cat-face on you, oh my god,” Raleigh said, grinning.

“He helped me make the cat ears, too,” Mako told him, and Raleigh laughed delightedly at the precious mental image of stern-faced Pentecost hot-gluing cat ears to a headband as young Mako looked on.

“When she got older Jaz didn’t want to trick-or-treat with us, so she went as a cat with her friends,” Raleigh said. “We helped her make a little collar with a bell on it, and she wore a little black tutu-type of skirt thing and little black leggings and black boots and a black sweater. Me and Yancy took, like, a hundred pictures of her, she was adorable.”

Mako took a moment to imagine it, and they finally managed to reach the exit. They broke out into the warm night air, and they both took a deep breath to savor the freshness of it. It got pretty stale in the Dome, sometimes. “Are you going to try to find her, again?”

Raleigh’s shoulders slumped as they began walking to the bakery. “I don’t know. You’d think she’d try to contact me, wouldn’t she? Like, if she wanted to get in touch…”

“Maybe,” Mako said. “Maybe not.”

“She didn’t get in touch when me and Yancy joined the Program,” Raleigh said. “She didn’t get in touch when Yancy died. Not when we closed the Breach. I haven’t seen her in years. Hell, maybe she forgot about me.”

“She’s your sister,” Mako said. “She wouldn’t forget you.”

Raleigh shrugged, then brightened a little when he saw children running around in costumes. “Check it out, trick-or-treaters!”

Mako turned to see them, little witches and cats and devils running along the street. “This isn’t really a residential area, I didn’t think. Are they asking for candy from store-owners?”

“Hey, maybe. Honestly, I didn’t really know they had Halloween in Panama.”

“Some people here have Dia de los Muertos, and the government recognizes a National Day of Mourning on the second of November,” Mako said.

“Well, I guess Halloween’s become universal. I’m all for it.” He grabbed her by the hand and led her to the bakery he had been after. “Maybe we’ll get some candy if we ask nicely.”

“We’re not even dressed up,” Mako protested, smiling, and Raleigh managed to say something along the lines of ‘oh ye of little faith’ before they entered the store.

Skulls and black cats decorated the walls in paper cutouts, and the store owner greeted them with a heavily accented and incredibly enthusiastic “Happy Halloween!”

“Happy Halloween!” Raleigh greeted before switching to Spanish. “I didn’t know they celebrated Halloween in Panama.”

“Not when I was a boy, but…” The man shrugged, as if that was answer enough. Raleigh nodded, as if this was all very educational for him.

“What are these?” Mako asked, bending down to point to some unfamiliar baked goods under the glass counter.

“Pan de muerto,” the baker said. “For people who celebrate el Dia de los Muertos. They’re usually set up on an altar for lost loved ones, and when the day is over the living family can eat them. The bread, I mean, not the lost loved ones!”

The baker chuckled and Raleigh laughed with him, but Mako looked up seriously at them. “I would like one of those, please.”

Raleigh glanced at her, then looked back at the baker. “Can we get two of these, please?”

“Certainly,” the baker said, and he rang them up two loaves of pan de muerto.

They walked out with the loaves warm in their hands, and Mako led them to a small park. They sat on a bench facing some play structure with costumed children swarming over it, and Mako pulled her bread out of its paper wrapping, watching it with tired, sad eyes.

Raleigh unwrapped his own loaf and pulled a piece off, popping it in his mouth. He had a vague memory of him and Yancy just before they joined the Program, huddled in a coffee shop eating sweet bread that tasted a lot like this.

“This is good,” he said, breaking off another piece. “I like it.”

Mako ducked her head. He leaned over to press his shoulder firmly against hers. “Mako. Talk to me.”

“I miss them,” she said. “I miss Sensei and I miss the Kaidanovskys and the Weis and I miss Chuck. I miss my first family. I just...”

Her voice was cracking and her eyes were watering, and Raleigh wrapped one arm tightly around her. “I know.”

“Qué fuerte!”

Mako and Raleigh looked up to see two little kids staring at them. They were both dressed up in jaeger pilot costumes that were painted black, and the little girl had a short black wig with blue streaks in front. Mako straightened up and smiled at them.

“Hey there,” Raleigh said, switching back to Spanish. “Are you two who I think you are?”

The little girl blushed and hid behind the boy, who seemed to be her brother. The boy grinned, showing off his missing front tooth. “We’re you guys! Oh my gosh, you’re really Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket, right?”

“Sure thing,” Raleigh confirmed, and the little girl squealed a little and held her bag up to hide most of her face. Her dark eyes peeked out at them, and Mako looked proud and happy enough to burst.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so cool,” her brother said. “Oh my god! Oh wow, you guys...”

He couldn’t have been more than ten, with his sister a few years younger. He was clearly excited and flustered, turning to whisper to his sister. “Ana, say hi.”

“Hi,” Ana whispered. Mako held out her hand, and Ana shook it, looking delighted.

“Oh man, I wish I had a pen,” the boy said. “Oh wow, I… you guys are so cool!”

“Javier? Javier, where are you -- oh!”

“Mom! Mom, look, it’s Raleigh Becket and Mako Mori!” the boy said, waving over the woman who had been calling. “Mom! Do you have a pen? I want them to sign my armor!”

“Oh, darling, I don’t think they have time,” his mother said. Javier looked at Mako and Raleigh, his dark face earnest and pleading. Mako smiled up at his mother.

“It’s no trouble,” she said. “I have a pen, but I don’t think it’ll work on your costume… oh, wait!”

She grabbed up the paper that had been around her pan de muerto, then pulled a pen out of the pocket of her blouse.

“Dear Javier and Ana,” she said as she wrote. “It was lovely to meet you! Signed, Mako Mori.”

She handed the paper to Raleigh, who added his name and scrawled a quick ‘Happy Halloween!’ They tore the note off and handed it to Javier, who delightedly showed it to his sister. Ana squealed again, bouncing on her toes.

“Say thank you,” their mother scolded lightly, and they both cried ‘Thank you!’ in unison before hurrying off with their loot. Their mother turned back to Mako and Raleigh, smiling. “Thank you so much. That was very kind of you.”

“No problem at all,” Raleigh assured her, and she nodded her head before chasing after her children.

Mako watched them for a moment, then turned back to her pan de muerto. “I think I would like a family like that, one day.”

“I’ll have you know I already named all our children and also the dog,” Raleigh said, and Mako laughed so hard she almost dropped her bread.

~~~

Herc was practically positive he was too old to be training new recruits. He wanted to see what he had to work with and encourage this new batch of potential pilots, yes. He didn't want to mediate in egotistical power plays.

Naturally, this meant he went to work with them in the Kwoon, but he brought Tendo along to assure him that they were definitely obnoxious and it wasn't just Herc being old and crotchety.

"What's your name, Jail?" Lena Blake asked, laughing. Jael Espinosa didn't speak much English, but she clearly knew enough to know she was being mocked.

"Soy Jael," she said. "Puta."

"It doesn't look like like High-ell," Lena said. "It looks like jail."

"It's Spanish, shitbrain," Sage Bristol said. "The letters is different."

Lena bristled. "I can--"

"Bitch, the j is fuckin' different in Spanish. It's a 'huh' sound. Pronounce it like Hi-yell, you'll be close enough. Doesn't take a fuckin' genius to figure that out, does it?"

"Enough," Herc said, and Sage and Jael looked up at him. Lena scowled at them, and Herc had to count to five to give himself a bit of time to remember that these kids were not military and they still had to have discipline beaten into them.

Lena was not pilot material. He knew she was already shaping up to be great in K-Science, but she had no urge to cooperate with others or follow any orders but her own. Sage and Jael were equally prideful, but at least they listened when Herc spoke and had a good deal of respect for his experience and authority. He could easily admit that he had a bit of a soft spot for those two. He could definitely see them becoming pilots.

"Bristol. Espinosa. Up to the mat, if you don't mind."

They obeyed, and he briefly explained the training exercise they would be doing. They seemed to be getting more and more agitated the more he spoke, and when he handed them each a staff they both grimaced like he had dropped a dead rat into their hands. He knew that Jael had absolutely no experience with weapons that weren’t her fists, trash can lids, or a carefully aimed skateboard, and Sage was much the same. Growing up on the streets left very little room for any actual martial training. Still, they had been training for a week and he had been very clear with his instructions -- read each other, match each other in combat.

"Alright," Herc said, stepping back. "When you're ready."

Jael and Sage looked at him as if they were deeply suspicious of his motives. Then they looked at each other.

Then they both dropped the staves and flew at each other like rabid cats, grappling and punching and cursing, and Herc felt like he was going to have a seizure. "That's not what I told you to do!"

They didn't hear him over their own snarling. He didn't really want to try to reach between them.

"I said," he bellowed, "that is not what I told you to do!"

"Well," Tendo said. "They seem to read each other pretty good."

~~~

“Hey there, big guy!” Newt said enthusiastically into the receiver.

“It’s four in the goddamn morning,” Hannibal replied, at which point he hung up and Newt had to scramble to dial him back.

“Don’t hang up don’t hang up!”

“What the fuck, kid?” Hannibal’s voice was almost a whine. “I’m sleepin’ here.”

“Yep! Sleepin’ in Casablanca! The place I told you to go so that you can have better access to kaiju parts! No big deal, you just owe me like big time, that’s all!”

“Now listen up, you manic little shit--”

“I was just wondering if you knew anybody who would be willing to drift with a kaiju?” Newt continued, unphased. Honestly, if Hannibal wanted to kill him, he would have done it several midnight phone calls ago. “Because me and Hermann have organized a kaiju drift program and got the funding with the condition that we had to keep it on the down low, since most of the world would flip its shit about something this mindblowingly awesome, so I figured how much down-lower can you get than the black market underworld!”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I’ve stopped bein’ surprised by the weird shit you pull, Geiszler,” Hannibal finally said.

“Thank you.”

“You call Slater Irons about this?”

Newton hesitated. “No?”

“So you called me first. Even though I’m in goddamn Casablanca at the buttcrack of the morning, and she’s there in Panama and probably more willing to put up with your bullshit.”

“Well. She’s, like… a stranger.”

“Are you fucking with me, kid?”

“No! Like, you and me, we’ve been through some stuff. Known each other for years.”

“That is, most unfortunately, true,” Hannibal agreed.

“Yeah, man! We’re in this together, serious ride-or-die type shit.”

“No.” Hannibal hung up again. Newt decided to give him time to sleep on it.

The next morning he had two files on his desk -- one marked with Hannibal’s symbol, the other with Slater’s. Each file had a handful of dossiers on seemingly random individuals. The present came with a note:

Kid,

all these folks have said they’re willing to go with your drift experiment. Put their files through whatever drift-compatibility tests you can find, then pick the ones that have the best shot at whatever the hell it is you’re up to. Slater and I both made notes about who knows who, if that helps with compatibility.

Good luck.

Hannibal

“Hermann! Hermann! Hermann!”

“For the love of god, Newton, I see them, I’m very happy that your black market boyfriend came through for you.”

Newt let out a hysterical laugh. “Dude, we’re totally platonic bros.”

“Yes. Whatever.”

“I don’t think he’d date me after I let him get eaten by a kaiju.”

“Too bad, you need someone like Hannibal to make an honest man out of you,” Hermann said, his expression totally deadpan, and Newt had to stare at him for a minute to figure out if he was joking or if this was going to be an actual thing.

He finally decided on ‘joke,’ then began sorting out the files. “I think I should send these to Carmen, she’s our resident shrink, she should have a better chance at figuring out compatibility than me…”

Deep in the Shatterdome, an alarm sounded.

~~~

“November third, oh eight hundred hours, 2027, category three kaiju codenamed Manticore came through the Breach and headed towards Africa,” Tendo reported.

“Category three?” Herc asked. “Harbinger was cat-five.”

“Our data suggests that the new Breach is still highly unstable,” Hermann said. “Harbinger was the equivalent of, of a camel through the eye of a needle, in a way. He was forced through, but he probably did more harm than good for the portal itself. It makes sense for them to send a wave of smaller kaiju to help stabilize the new hole they have created.”

“Fair enough, but I don’t want any of you letting that get your guard down,” Herc barked at the pilots assembled before him. “We don’t know where exactly Manticore is going to make land, but we’re sending you across the Atlantic to be ready for him.”

“Yes, sir!”

“We’re dropping you off the coast of Morocco, where he’ll most likely be headed,” Herc said, pointing it out on a map projected up in a hologram. “We’ve informed the governments there of the situation, and they are working on evacuating the civilians from the immediate coast. We also got choppers already heading over, to see if we can get a visual before he reaches the miracle mile, give us a better chance at catching him quick.”

“Four jaegers against one category three kaiju,” Raleigh said to them. “Your odds may be good, but do not let that get to your heads. Getting killed by your second kaiju will be a damn embarrassing way to go.”

“Yes, sir!” the rangers repeated, and Herc dismissed them to their jaegers.

Herc rubbed his eyelids, then looked back to where Tendo was working. “Alright. Let’s get this show on the road, gentlemen.”

Chapter Text

Manticore, category three, emerged from the Breach early Wednesday morning. All of this information was written into Tendo’s notes, then set aside. Visuals from the camera feeds surrounding the Breach revealed something small, a body reminiscent of Leatherback’s in shape and movement but not in size. This, too, was put into the system, and Tendo made sure to write up a brief summary of Leatherback’s abilities. A rehash, really. Just to make sure everybody knew what they were possibly up against.

“Hey, you wanna know something cool?” Tendo asked, not looking up from his screens.

“Uh, sure?” a younger technician replied. Practically an intern, for how new and unaccomplished he was at this point.

“I am fresh out of coffee,” Tendo said. “Get me some more. The mission probably depends on it.”

Raleigh had walked up to drop off a few readouts for the jaegers, and he grinned when he saw the look the tech was giving Tendo.

“You harassing people again?” Raleigh asked.

“No way, brother. How could you say that?” Tendo looked up to shoot the tech a serious stink-eye. “Seriously though. Coffee.”

“He takes it with four lumps of sugar,” Raleigh said when the kid looked to him for support.

The tech left, an affronted ‘I’m actually a specialist in my field and they’re making me get coffee for the bow-tie dude’ expression on his face. At least Tendo figured that must have been what that expression was. It was rather obscure but very satisfying.

Maybe he was a little bitter. Before the Breach opened up, they had been limited to training new rangers. That was it. They couldn’t bring in new Academy teachers, they couldn’t bring in Jaeger tech engineers, they sure as hell couldn’t bring on new K-Science or other Strike Group officers. They had been limited to the people who had still been working at Hong Kong, and a few people who had stuck around longer in the Panama Dome. But now they had interns crawling all over the place, they had a rush of engineers and scientists who needed training, and the people who actually had experience seemed to be getting lost in the swarm.

Goddamn nightmare, is what it was.

“I hope he knows that I’ll just let the whole mission fall apart if he spits in my coffee,” Tendo said.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know the fate of the world is entirely on your shoulders, Mister Choi,” Raleigh chuckled.

“Raleigh, I need you,” Mako called from another computer station, and he hurried off to help her. Which was fine, because Tendo was too busy processing the readouts to chit-chat.

All four jaegers were up to a hundred percent functionality following their previous battle. Strider Juno had just undergone some standard maintenance and was in perfect shape. Fortuna Charge’s maintenance check had been a few days before, a hundred engineers and technicians crawling through the jaeger like termites through a hunk of wood, picking away at damage and smoothing out dents and cracks. Avenger was a few days before that, and Gamma’s check-up had been a week after Harbinger’s attack.

Tendo drank this information in, came up with half a dozen strategies based on it, then set the page aside. “Where my coffee at?”

“Mister Choi,” Herc said, handing him a cup. “I figured you’d be cryin’ for this sooner or later.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tendo said, accepting the coffee with a grin. “Everything’s clear so far, and I’ve got every station lit up and keeping an eye out.”

“This all looks good, Tendo,” Herc said approvingly, looking out over the sea of computer screens shining on the faces of countless technicians, new and old. “Any word from the coastal authorities?”

“Roadways are being cleared and authorities are setting up things for easy escapes,” Tendo said. “However, they aren’t waking anybody up and actually evacuating yet.”

They had spread out the jaegers all down the eastern Atlantic coasts. Whichever one of them was closest to where Manticore was finally spotted would be the first to engage, and the others would converge on them. It wasn’t their ideal strategy, but with no clue about where Manticore was heading...

Herc tried not to grind his teeth. “That’s… fair. We can’t evacuate the entire west coast of Africa for only one kaiju who probably won’t even make land.”

“We’re keeping on the line with coastal officials and every single one has choppers of their own looking for Manticore,” Tendo said. “Related note, I’m going to write a report asking for sensors all up and down the coasts. We had them in the Pacific, we need them in the Atlantic, too.”

“I’ll keep watch for that one, make sure it gets pushed through,” Herc said.

“Are you saying you don’t make sure all my reports get pushed through?”

“I’ve got to check in with the engineers, I’ll be back,” Herc said, backing away quickly. Tendo went back to his monitors, grumbling a little bit.

“Alright, rangers,” he said into the comms. “Let’s get started.”

~~~

Devanshi hated Manticore.

She hated him more than she hated stepping on legos and accidentally biting into the gristle portion of a steak. She hated him more than Nizhoni hated tripping over nothing and those gross 'Sexy Native' Halloween costumes. All of these comparisons flicked through her brain almost faster than she could process them, the sheer strength of the drift pushing thoughts in and out of her consciousness at an unnatural speed.

Manticore was small, ape-like. He had a flat monkey-looking face, which would have been cute if not for the fact that he didn't seem to have any skin there, just gaping bone and sharp, too-big teeth. He also had probing, glowing tentacles sprouting from his wrists, which were currently embedding themselves into Strider Juno's left arm, and Dev hated that more than anything in her entire life.

IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS

oh god its like theres something crawling under my skin ripping up the flesh and pushing into the muscle oh god help somebody it

HURTS MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT

Their left elbow was locked up, the muscle strands of their jaeger snapping and the engine blocks that powered them being crushed in Manticore's coils, and Devanshi and Nasrin felt their jaeger's pain boil under their skin.

“Strider,” Ranger Becket said, and in the haze of agony his voice was like thunder in their ears, echoing harshly in their skulls. “Charge up left plasma caster.”

No, the left caster is compromised, Dev thought, and she hadn’t realized she spoke out loud until Raleigh answered her. “I’m not saying fire it, I’m saying charge it.”

“Charge up left plasma caster,” Ranger Mori agreed, and they couldn’t just ignore their head engineer.

“Charging left caster,” Nizhoni said. Strider registered the order, setting off warning lights while simultaneously obeying. Dev could feel the conflict echo through her, manifesting into human sentiment -- ‘I’ll do it, but this is a really dumbass idea and I’m blaming you when it fails.’

The plasma caster was definitely compromised. She could feel the plasma leaking through cracks as it heated, and for a giddy and poetic moment the phrase ‘sun blood’ rushed through her mind before disappearing into the Drift. Their left arm was going to blow. It was going to straight-up explode, embedding white-hot metal in Manticore’s face. They would be crippled, but Fortuna would be able to engage, and Avenger and Gamma were finally dropping down. They had been further down the coast when Manticore had been spotted up near Morocco, closest to where Strider Juno was.

The heat of the plasma burned the tentacles, and Manticore tried desperately to disengage itself.

am i HURTING YOU

GOOD

“Rangers, disengage plasma caster, you’re reaching peak--”

The plasma cannon went off sooner than usual, blasting Manticore's arm clean off at the elbow, and Strider staggered back from the flailing kaiju. The jaeger’s arm was limp and numb. Occasional bursts of heat shot up into Dev and Nizhoni’s shoulder and pulsed at the base of their skull.

Fortuna Charge lunged, finally close enough to ram its spiked knuckles into Manticore's bare face. Teeth cracked and shattered and Manticore choked on them, reeling away and screaming.

Dev couldn’t feel her fingers.

“Strider Juno, retreat now,” Ranger Mori ordered. They staggered back two steps.

Avenger and Gamma landed, sending up tidal waves as they hit the water. They were on Manticore in seconds -- Chloe Carmichael built her robots for speed, and of course her latest creations were the finest examples of her work. Nizhoni admired the machinery in an effort to ignore the way her hand felt like it had gone missing, and Dev basked in the distraction.

“Strider Juno, I repeat, pull back from the battle, you’re still too close,” Mori said.

Avenger Titan slid out from under a feeble swing and Gamma Codex slammed a fist down on the back of Manticore’s skull.

Fortuna Charge’s chain sword slid out of its arm. Mori never left her mechs without a blade hidden somewhere. Dev felt something hot and wet slide down over her lips.

“Strider, the neural load is backing up on you, you need to pull back and let the jumphawks pick you up,” Tendo Choi said.

Fortuna’s sword hooked into Manticore’s belly, and soon enough the ocean was filled with titanic alien organs, glowing harsh and blue.

“Strider!”

They couldn’t really see out of their left eye. Hm.

“Manual override, engaged. Drift sequence, terminated.”

~~~

“That was incredible,” Tendo said.

Dev and Nizhoni were blowing their noses, trying to get the last of the blood out of their sinuses. The damage Strider had sustained put way too much strain onto the neural handshake. It wouldn’t put them out of commission forever, but… they’d be out of the drift for a while. Nizhoni couldn’t really tell where she ended and Dev started. When she blinked she got flashes of the doctor that was checking Dev’s dilated pupils.

She heard boots, and she and Dev looked up at the Marshal walking over to them.

"That was damn good, both of you," he said. He smiled thinly down at them. “I’m proud.”

"We need to get you both to medical," Raleigh said. “Trust me. You’ll want to get your drivesuits off as soon as possible.”

Nizhoni’s elbow twinged and Dev winced.

So of course they were carted off to the medical wing. Strider’s drivesuit techs had to take off their armor in the middle of Doctor Paulo’s furious meltdown.

“Look at how red he is,” Alicia commented as she finally pulled off Nizhoni’s last gauntlet, leaving her in nothing but the circuitry suit. “Fucking incredible.”

“I can see you, I can see you making fun of me, like this isn’t a big deal,” Doctor Paulo said. “I can’t handle this anymore, do you know how bad my blood pressure is? It’s terrible. The worst.”

“You’re the worst,” Juanita said. She was trying to help Devanshi out of the circuitry suit, and she grimaced when Dev hissed in pain. “This one’s burned out. We’ll probably need to get you both new suits.”

“If you think your health is bad, just think about what we’re going through, Doctor Paulo,” Nizhoni said, grinning. Paulo pushed his glasses up from where they had been sliding down his nose.

“Well, what do you think’s got me so stressed? It’s certainly not the attitude of your suit techs, but I have to say they are definitely contributing.”

“This is slander,” Juanita said, and at that moment she peeled the suit down off of Dev’s shoulders.

Fire lit up on Nizhoni’s skin and she muffled a screech as Dev cried out.

Alicia followed Juanita’s lead and the agony doubled, and Dev’s knees hit the floor a split second before Nizhoni’s did.

The room was spinning. She looked down at her hands splayed on the cold tile floors. Blood was sliding down her left arm.

She thought of Ranger Becket’s drivesuit scars. She wondered vaguely if his had hurt this badly, too.

She felt a prick and Dev relaxed slightly, and then a needle went through her own skin and the pain dimmed.

“Alright, the morphine should be enough for us to clean them up and bandage the suit burns,” Paulo said, and gentle hands propped her and Dev upright. She could see Alicia and Juanita had bundled up the circuitry suits and were hurrying out, and a few other techs had the pieces of their armor. Brand new battle armor all scuffed up from being slammed around in the rigging.

Dev looked at her and smiled.

hey

at least we didn’t die

~~~

The Liberty Dome was completed by January, record time. Mako was set up with her own office that led into her room she shared with Raleigh. Raleigh shared the office, too, but they both acknowledged that it was definitely hers.

She was looking over her blueprints for the Mark 7s. Rangers hadn’t been chosen yet, but they were close enough to start working on the bare bones of new jaegers. She would personally choose the head engineers for each j-unit, which was something usually reserved for Marshals. Herc had delegated that task to her, knowing that she was far more knowledgeable about jaeger engineering than he ever would be -- he was of the opinion that if some tech stopped working, you smack it a few times before calling somebody else over to fix it. Chuck had always been the more tech-savvy of the two...

Mako took a deep breath and sat back in her seat. It wasn’t fair that their friendship had completely unraveled in the last few days they knew each other. It wasn’t fair that Chuck had let his distaste for Raleigh ruin his fondness for her. It wasn’t fair that her chances of fixing things with him had gotten taken away the same instant she lost her sensei.

It wasn’t fair.

There was a familiar edge in Mako’s mind, a prickling of identity that ebbed at the edge of her consciousness. It swelled, a weightless pressure, and she looked up to smile at Raleigh as he walked in. “I thought you said you were busy.”

“Are you okay?” he asked. Mako’s smile fell.

“I’m just… thinking about Chuck,” she admitted. Raleigh grimaced and sat down across from her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“I just… miss him. That’s all.” She folded her arms on her desk, shrugging her shoulders. “Do you have any new reports on the recruits?”

“Herc’s sent some files,” he said, pulling a flash drive out of his pocket and plugging it into her computer. “We have definite copilot teams and prospective j-units, not to mention some applications for head engineers.”

Mako brought up the applications on her holoscreen. She could see Raleigh through the holograph, his skin tinged blue by the lights. “Have you looked them over already?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t mean much to me. I’ve been out of the game too long -- it’s like I hardly know anybody anymore.”

“A lot of head engineers of fallen jaegers retired,” Mako told him. “They were always close to their rangers, and… it was difficult, for many, to lose them. A lot of them felt guilty for not… providing a suitable jaeger.”

“They did their best,” Raleigh said, a little defensively.

(a rush of newspaper headline smudged with tears and coffee cant believe it cant fucking believe it

Gipsy Danger Head Engineer Liam Antrobus Commits Suicide Following Jaeger Destruction)

“Of course,” Mako said. “But a lot of times, guilt wins out over facts.”

Raleigh looked away.

Mako opened up the file of copilots and j-units. “Vitya Maksimoff and Miroslav Volkov paired with Victoria and Skye Thrasher.”

“Unsurprising,” Raleigh said, pulling some hard candy out of his pocket and unwrapping it. He popped it in his mouth, making his voice distort oddly. “I remember when Vic copiloted with Griff. They took down Sawhead off Brisbane, didn’t they?”

“Brisbane was their last drop before Griffon Warden-Thrasher was diagnosed with lung cancer and retired from the program,” Mako said. Raleigh crunched his candy between his molars and reached into his pocket for another. “Now Vic and her daughter have a chance at copiloting.”

“Hopefully they get along better than…” Raleigh grimaced and shoved another candy into his mouth.

“Yes,” Mako agreed, flipping to another file. “Hopefully they get along better than the Hansens.”

~~~

“So this is where you’ll be training to drift with a kaiju,” Newt said brightly, scurrying around the room to wave his hand at all the gorgeous equipment he had been set up with.

His five potential protégés watched as he explained how kaiju drifting was set up -- his voice getting higher and faster the more excited he got -- and Hermann watched from the doorway.

He liked these people. A lot of them had nice hair, which Newt considered to be a very good method of telling how cool a person was. Their connections to the criminal underworld had nothing to do with it.

(Their connections to the criminal underworld totally had at least a little bit to do with it.)

“Newton, maybe you should work on introductions before trying to explain the intricacies of drift technology,” Hermann said after a few minutes.

“I already told them who I am,” Newt protested.

“Ask who they are, you imbecile,” Hermann told him.

“Right! Their introductions!” He already knew them from their files, and most of them already knew each other. He decided to humor Hermann for now.

He pointed to the woman with the best hair, purple and disheveled. “You! What’s your name, where are you from?”

“It says in my file,” she replied, not looking amused.

“Yes, but we’re pacifying Hermann right now,” Newt said as Hermann rubbed his face with one hand.

She stared at him suspiciously. “Talver Kladivo. I’m from everywhere.”

“What, like a gy-- um. I mean. Are you Romani?” Newt corrected, because Hermann only had to scream at him about that one time.

“Yes,” she said, her glare darkening.

“Cool! Very cool. Uh, you! Your name, your place!”

“Lika Afolayan,” the man said. His long golden dreadlocks were tied back from his brown face. “I’m from Nigeria. Spent a lot of time in Hong Kong recently, though.”

Talver ducked her head to hide a grin, and the others chuckled.

“Cool!” Newt said. “Cool, cool. Uh, you!”

The white girl with the shaved head didn’t look up from where she was drawing on her hand.

“That’s Anaxandra,” Talver said.

“Where’s she from?” Newt asked.

“Hey man, back off,” Lika replied.

“She’s been living in Hong Kong, she worked for Mister Chau,” Talver said. “She don’t need you interrogating her.”

“Okay, that’s enough introduction for today,” Newt said. “How about this drifting, huh?”

The session sort of fell apart after that and the prospective k-drifters (Newton was so good at naming things. Yes, he will sign autographs, you’re all too kind) went off to their quarters.

“Well that went very smoothly,” Hermann said.

“Yes, thank you, I definitely needed your sarcastic one-liners, Hermann, you always know what to say, wow, such great friendship.”

“If you didn’t have me to knock you down a peg every once in a while--”

“I would actually be succeeding in life?”

“If by succeeding you mean shot and stuffed into a dumpster, then yes, you would definitely be succeeding in life.”

“They weren’t gonna shoot me, I’m like the most lovable person ever--”

“Oh, of course. How could I have forgotten the time you almost called one of them a racial slur--”

“Okay I just barely said gypsy and I totally saved that alright--”

“I didn’t know you two spoke German.”

Newt and Hermann let out tiny yelps (no, they were, like, intakes of breath. Manly gasps. Newt was certain that Hermann would back him up on that) and recoiled from where Slater Irons had seated herself behind Newt’s desk.

“How did you even get in here?” Hermann demanded.

“You were speaking very loudly,” she replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t hear me walk in.”

“No, like, how did you get into the facility?” Newt pressed. “This place is super locked down.”

Slater smiled and widened her eyes in a perfect Stepford-esque ‘don’t ask questions you little shit’ expression. “Hannibal suggested I get to know you a little better, Newton. He mentioned something along the lines of you considering me to be a stranger.”

“What? I didn’t say that. Who told you that? Hannibal lies through his grill,” Newt babbled.

“We did convert to German about halfway through that debate, didn’t we?” Hermann asked.

“Yes, wow, that is so weird,” Newt agreed. “Crazy, man. I wonder which one of us changed first, haha, wow, language is so cool--”

“Doctor,” Slater Irons said.

“Yes?” Hermann and Newt replied in unison.

“Newton. Hermann. I appreciate that you’re afraid of me,” Slater said. “That is a quality I respect in a person. However, I beg of you to understand that as long as you contribute to my business dealings, I have no reason whatsoever to treat you with anything but the highest care.”

She paused, waiting for a response. Newt and Hermann glanced at each other, then back at her.

“Cool?” Newt said. Slater’s smile was much more natural this time.

“Yes, very cool,” she said, standing up and walking past them toward the door. They scrambled to get out of her way. “Newton, Hannibal asked me to tell you he planned to make a trip to Brooklyn next week. Apparently Harbinger smashed his favorite Szechuan place, but his second-favorite is still standing.”

“The one he named himself after?”

“Yep. He said he’d be happy to meet up with you there, if you weren’t too busy.” She paused at the door and looked back at him seriously. “Are you too busy, Newton?”

“Um.”

“I thought not. I’ll let him know you’re interested in setting up further plans.”

With that, she walked out. Hermann leaned over to mutter in Newt’s ear.

“Black market boyfriend.”

“Shut up, Hermann!”

~~~

When the jaeger teams were finally pulled together, there were six j-units. Twelve jaegers. Three times as many as the Mark 6 lineup, and Raleigh was so relieved he could barely stand it.

He was sent down to Panama to choose the jaegers that would be deployed from the Liberty Dome. They already had Strider and Fortuna up there, since they needed to be close to Mako. Herc had dropped him off at the hangar to choose from all the jaegers waiting for him, tended to by their engineers and fussy pilots.

One person approached him immediately, an eager-faced young man with a scruffy red-blonde beard. The engineer had a beat-up old beanie pulled down over his head, a stained US Marine t-shirt over a grey long-sleeve, worn-out blue jeans and scuffed black combat boots. He reminded Raleigh of the younger kids that worked shifts on the wall -- worn down, but still not broken down.

Raleigh's hand went out immediately, and the engineer shook it with a grin.

"Mister Becket, it's great to meet you! Uh, Jeremy Burrville, head engineer for Whirlwind Electra and Apostle Ghost," he said. "Call me Jem."

"Nice to meet you, Jem." Raleigh said. "Raleigh's fine."

"Cool, Raleigh. Sounds good." He seemed anxious, eager to show his work.

"I thought jaegers weren't allowed to have repeat name aspects," Raleigh said. Jem nodded.

"They aren't. But Apostle Ghost used parts from Mammoth Apostle, and the pilots... they thought it was right to pay homage to it, you know?"

"That's... very respectful of them," Raleigh said. Jem shrugged.

"I thought so, and the Marshal didn't contest the naming, so... you know. You wanna see her?"

Raleigh smiled and nodded. "Of course."

"Yes," Jem said. "Fuck yes. Sorry, okay, right this way!"

He lead Raleigh to one of the hangers, where a streamlined jaeger stood, accented with shots of yellow. It had a single viewport, reminding Raleigh of Crimson Typhoon. Then he noticed smaller, secondary viewports situated around the entirety of the jaeger's head, giving it a full 360 degree view, and he whistled. "Huh. I like it."

Jem was jittering with excitement. "Apostle Ghost, one of the fastest jaegers of the new lineup at two hundred thirty miles an hour."

"Two thirty?"

"Yeah."

"Man..." Raleigh remembered when they couldn't break one eighty. "And in the water?"

"Uh. That was in the water. Out of the water she hits three hundred miles an hour."

What. The. Fuck.

Raleigh stared up blankly at Apostle Ghost, who was apparently faster than every bullet train in the entire world. "You designed that?"

"I mean, I was in constant contact with Chloe Carmichael and Mako Mori, because they're actually engineering gods who I kind of want to marry, but yeah, I was the head of the project," Jem said. "Oh, hey, pilots."

Raleigh looked down to see Hermione Strong and Simon Malombo walking over, dressed down in plain brown cargo pants and black t-shirts.

"Jem, we wanted to talk to you about the torque systems in the right leg, Angelina says that a few of the connectors aren't--"

Hermione cut herself off when she realized Raleigh was standing there, and her face lit up with a smile. "Ranger Becket! Hi!"

Simon continued explaining the technical problem to Jem, and Hermione pointed back at Apostle. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"I hear she can hit three hundred miles an hour," Raleigh said.

"That's about five hundred kilometers, right? But yes, she is very fast! Jem says that the j-units should be about one jaeger protecting another's weakness, so while we are fast and agile Whirlwind is slow and strong! Sage and Jael keep saying that we're going to get squished and they'll have to clean up our guts out of the ocean, but they say it in a way that means they worry about us. Which is ridiculous, because Simon and I are too fast to get squished!"

Everybody thinks they're too fast, Raleigh thought but didn't say.

"Have you seen Whirlwind yet?" Hermione made a show of rolling her eyes. "We'll have to be quick about a tour, because Sage and Jael get mad if you get too close to their jaeger."

"Well, just tell me when I'm in the way," Raleigh said.

"Trust me. They'll let you know," Hermione said. "Come on, I'll show you."

She waved him over to the second member of her j-unit, a hulking grey tank with green decals. "Whirlwind Electra, most heavily armored jaeger of the new lineup. Slow, but brutal. Based on the Mark 1 jaegers, like Brawler Yukon and Cherno Alpha. Built for strength rather than speed, and so uses the strongest titanium-steel alloys folded and tempered dozens of times. Jem was actually really inspired by Ranger Mori's style of tempering. Forty-five engine blocks per muscle strand. She is beastly."

"Hey. Hey!"

Raleigh and Hermione glanced over to where Sage Bristol and Jael Espinosa were talking to some techs. They were dressed up in their drivesuits, grey and green with a snarling demon painted across the breastplate.

Sage had seen them get too close to Whirlwind, and she and Jael immediately stormed over. "What are you doing, Strong?"

"I'm showing your horrible mecha lovechild to Ranger Becket, Sage, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"One, she is a beautiful mecha lovechild so shut your mouth, and two, you are going to knock something out of place and break her, don't even look at her," Sage ordered.

"Can't be much if Hermione looking at her is enough to break her," Raleigh said, because the best way to learn everything about a jaeger is to insult it in front of its pilots. (Coincidentally, it was also the best way to get your jaw broken by someone defending their robot's honor.)

Sure enough, Sage and Jael both went red, and Jael took off in Spanish. "Whirlwind is a fucking work of art, she has sixty engine blocks per muscle strand, she could crush a skyscraper with one hand, she's not a fucking speedster but she can hit two hundred in the water easy, she doesn't need some fucking white boy talking shit on her, are you fucking--"

"He understands you," Hermione cut in gently, and Jael shut up.

"Sixty engine blocks?" Raleigh asked. "What's your crush grip like?"

"The best," Sage said. "She wasn't exaggerating about crushing skyscrapers. We made some neat abstract art out of an old junked oil tanker."

"Nice," Raleigh said approvingly. Jael still looked irritated, but at that moment Jem and Simon walked over and she was distracted.

She spoke quickly to Sage, who translated. "Jem, Jael says we need a lightsaber."

"What."

"We watched them old Star Wars movies and we want a lightsaber."

"I can't--"

"A lightsaber would be super cool, Jem," Hermione agreed.

"We all want lightsabers," Sage said.

Raleigh left Jem to be heckled by his pilots, wandering over to where Vic Thrasher was talking to her daughter.

"I get what you're saying, but Captain America would still beat Superman in a fight," she said before she noticed Raleigh. "Hey! Becket! Come over here and talk sense into my kid."

"How would Captain America even begin to beat Superman in a fight?" Raleigh asked. Skye Thrasher let out a triumphant bark of laughter.

"He's got super strength," Vic insisted.

"So does Superman," Raleigh said.

"Don't force your beliefs on me."

"I am telling you, Vic, Wonder Woman beats both of them," Vitya Maksimoff said from where he and Miroslav Volkov were looking over some schematics with their head engineer, a haggard older man who Raleigh vaguely recognized.

He let the pilots bicker as he went over to shake the man's hand. "Hey. I'm Raleigh Becket."

"I know," the engineer said. "I'm Don Terry. I worked on Striker Eureka."

"Right, I recognized you," Raleigh said, pleased. "Can you tell me about what you've got here?"

Don waved his hand up at the two jaegers waiting side by side. "Charter Phantom and Zolner Bravo. Zolner was built for distance, got guns and cannons comin' out of everywhere. Charter is close combat, built to maneuver and grapple. Nothing too record-breaking, I suppose, but what makes a jaeger good is the constancy and experience of its pilots. Not how fast it goes in a controlled setting."

"I heard that, you piece of shit," Jem shouted from across the Dome.

"Good," Don yelled back. There was a muffled wave of laughter, and Don smiled and shook his head. "Sorry. Love the kid, keeps me humble. Like I was saying..."

~~~

Raleigh returned to New York with six jaegers for Mako to oversee.

He always knew just how to brighten her day.

~~~