"Left leg takes hit! Left leg crippled!"
The epileptic red lights keep flashing as sparks and loose wires fray about in the cabin. Rain is coming in through the crack in the hull, whilst the siren – activated, blares through the sickening sound of metal being crushed.
Above the roar from the 10,000 tons of horror.
It's finally happening.
"This is Marshal Herc to Ai. Do you copy? Rangers, do you copy?" Why does he sound so angry? "Rangers!"
No, that's the sound of... The sound my mom made when she chased me away from the inferno that was my old house back in Florida. Right before that thing crashed into my room, my parents' room, the kitchen-
Her room. Where am I?
Oh.
"Mar- Marshal." I try. "We-"
"Stay calm and get out of there. Now!"
Another explosion. "Nuclear reactor compromised."
"Rangers!"
Everyone was happy after the crew from Gypsy Danger emerged and popped out from the depths of Pacific Ocean. The papers reported that the two rangers hugged when they found out they were alive – they lied. Who would have passed up a romantic moment like that for a sweet embrace?
Or at least that was what my scientist friend told me. You could trust Fat Amy with things like this. Right?
Anyway, back to that day. It was very early in the morning and the battle had been very long. People were killed – my favorite Cherno Alpha crashed just moments into battle (what the hell was that?!) and good ol' Pentecost had sacrificed himself. The Breach was utterly destroyed and mankind shall live forever.
That was what Marshal Herc Hansen said when he told them Shatterdome mechanics to stop the clock. So they did and everyone stopped counting.
Not everyone. And that was the surprise.
It was five years after the Breach was breached when it happened.
Overnight, the cities around the Caribbean were flattened. Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Haiti. No one survived. They came, they stomped and roared, and they left, leaving behind seismic aftershocks as they disappeared down the Milwaukee Deep.
They found a new portal.
We should have known.
They kept coming in the weeks after. Port cities along Florida, Texas, Buenos Aires, Seville and Lisbon were destroyed. Each a category 4.
"They're sending a message," Fat Amy said, her mouth full of strawberry sundae as she sat next to me on my family couch on a lazy Sunday.
"What message?"
She shrugged, licking the last bit of strawberry jam from the cup.
Dr Gottlieb couldn't explain the infrequency – he looked absolutely distraught and frenzied when he appeared on the news across the globe. It's funny how after five years, his eyes were still red. And he kept using that handkerchief to cover his nose.
Maybe it's to keep the nosey reporters off.
The PPDC finally got the decommissioned Coyote Tango back and he was en route towards The Cleft.
Mom, Dad, Fat Amy and I were seated around the television – all eyes obviously glued to the glitchy screen. The remaining technicians didn't quite fix the signal poles around after Rhino crashed through town back in 2013. Eh.
"Look, that's a Category 4.5!" Ugh, she spilled her pudding on me again.
My dad laughed. "How do you know it's a category 4 point 5, Amy?"
"Easy," she quipped, handing me a napkin before she stuck out her right index finger, "number one: this looks like she weighs easily a 7000 tons. Number two: she's an improvement on Knifehead with those two nasty-looking blades on her arms. Number three: I'm a Neurobiologist with a minor in Kaiju studies."
"I don't believe you."
"Just keep wiping your crotch, Beca."
Coyote Tango never returned.
President Aegan's face was plastered over all the screens across the nations the next day. Marshal Herc was standing next to him as he spoke into the microphone.
"We need Rangers," he said. "we're fighting back."
"I'm going."
I opened my mouth to laugh, only to have it choked right in my throat when I saw the overstuffed duffel bags hanging off her body as she stood under the door lintel. Her face was serious, and by serious, I meant really serious. It is Fat Amy without the word Fat.
"You're crazy. You haven't even moved a limb since you were born and you want to be a Ranger?"
"Yes. I want to help. Are you coming?"
Marshal Herc managed to build another Shatterdome at a salvaged Miami within a record time of 4 months. It was bigger, more massive than the one in Hong Kong. The Government has learnt their lesson.
Strange thing was, after the Coyote Tango incident, the monsters never came back.
The sky was overcast when Fat Amy and I hopped off the chopper after it landed at the port. A goofy-looking brunette was there waiting with an armful of umbrellas that he held out for us.
"Hi guys, welcome to Port Miami!" He yelled over the roar of thunder and pouring rain. "You must be Amy Wilson and Beca Mitchell. Hi! I'm Jesse Swanson!"
"Who are you?" Fat Amy asked, grabbing the biggest umbrella of the lot and opening it swiftly. She and I never shared an umbrella for obvious reasons.
"I'm a Jaeger designer. I work for and under Dr Caitlin Lightcap on Jaeger Tech."
"It's freezing here! Can we talk after we got in?"
Who would have known, Fat Amy's scared of the cold.
Fat Amy huddled close to me, all wrapped up in the extra woolen jackets my mom's packed for her. We took a gander around the room, now slowly filling with fresh-faces and white wisps of hot breaths.
There was an angry-looking Chinese triplets who had Wei stamped all over their faces. Dressed in crimson, they stalked around the darkest corner of the room, mumbling to themselves. Across from them were a pair of fraternal twins – very blonde and well-kept. Stern, even. They also kept to themselves, sitting upright on the hardwood bench.
They're looking over.
"Hey." Oh good, someone to distract me from those scary-pokes. "Where are you from?"
I whisked my head around and found myself staring into a pair of really blue eyes. Azure? Sky? Cerulean. She smiled and held out her hand. I tried to move my eyes down to the outstretched hand so that I could stop staring but I couldn't.
I was stuck. Eyes. Nose. Hair.
Red hair. Really flowing red hair.
"Heh." Oh boy, how sweet was that sound. "You're- You're staring. Are you alright?"
"I- I- Uh.. Yeah. I-"
"Haha! You're adorable. I'm Chloe, I'm from Tampa." Her hand's still outstretched. Okay, I should totally grab it. Grab it tighter, Beca.
"Beca." That was easy.
She smiled, showing her teeth.
"Beca."
Fat Amy was probably the one with the biggest appetite in the room. But she couldn't eat, couldn't bring herself, she said.
"That Marshal jerk doesn't know what he's talking about. How could Bumper get in and not me!" She groused in between mouthfuls of hamburgers and mashed potatoes. "I am what, 200 pounds of awesome!"
"I thought you said you have no appetite."
"I changed my mind. This is good."
"Better than Hong Kong's," a third voice chimed in, followed by a light clinking of the crockery on the table as the newcomer sat himself down next to her.
"You don't say," she mumbled, bits of mash and meat falling off her open mouth as I quickly handed her a napkin. "You're Dr Newton Geiszler!"
"Just call me Newt. Only my mom calls me Dr. So, I read your rep and you stated you took a minor in Kaiju studies?" Nice wink there, dr. I looked between the two and sighed – knowing my presence there was no longer needed.
It was three months into the training regime. Everyday we'd wake up at 4 in the morning, wash up before being whisked to the combat area for physical. Each day comprised three physicals by martial artists and two tactical lectures by Marshal Herc. Within the span of 90 days, I've learnt how to beat the crap out of Kaijus whilst getting my biceps and abs more defined.
None of us had been paired up yet – Marshal Herc hadn't quite decided the list of candidates to man the five Jaegers. The machines were almost finished but Jesse said they were still lacking in the human touch.
"Human touch?" I whispered, walking close to him behind the group as Tendo guided us across the hangar.
"Yeah," he whispered right back, as if seeking fun in some secret conspiracy that he's formed in his head. "You see, the mechs in the past had their own character, you know? Like, Gypsy was some sort of celebrated hero and, Cherno-" I swore my eyes lit up at his words, "-why are your eyes so big? Anyway, Cherno had this robust personality because it's Russian, right? But now what I'm doing is for the mech to emulate its brains and heart."
"The people piloting the Jaeger, you mean?"
"Yeah. So until Herc gets the list of candidates for me, I can't possibly program that in," he shrugged, casting an annoyed look towards the Local Command Center (LOCCENT) overlooking the hangar. "He better get that list soon."
I set my eyes on my redheaded training partner walking right in front of me as I listened to him rant on about programing.
Day 115.
Kaiju signatures had been reported off the coast of Miami. Far, but close enough.
Still no attacks.
Back in the lab, Dr Newt and Fat Amy had been dissecting preserved Kaiju parts – particularly the most recent carcass before that CT incident. Brains, guts, stomach contents, heart, secondary heart – it had got to be Fat Amy's most treasured moment of her lifetime.
"Newt gave me his spare black tie! It was really just a black skinny sash, actually." She told me during breakfast on day 116.
I've been counting.
"So did you find anything interesting?"
She shook her head sadly, dropping her spoon and spilling some soup, "Nah. I wanted to try drifting but Newt stopped me. I thought he was a rock star."
"Mitchell." I frowned and turned around, not liking the voice standing behind me.
Aubrey Posen. The female half of the blonde twins. Just like her well-kept appearance, she was aloof, ambitious and bitingly fearsome. Quite unlike her womanizing brother, Luke.
"Aubrey," I greeted, mustering my most nonchalant voice ever and gaining an eyeroll from her. "What do you want?"
"Marshal wants us to meet at LOCCENT in 5."
"The list is out?"
Blank stare.
"Fine." She walked away, almost marching.
Jesse ran over and hugged me, lifting me off the ground the moment I walked past the glass doors to LOCCENT. For a geeky design technician, he sure had the strength of a fighter.
"You're so light! You should eat more," he exclaimed, setting me back down and ushering me towards an empty seat next to his.
The room was relatively empty; the triplets were there – again sitting in some darker corner compared to the rest. A couple of French and Germans huddled around Tendo as he explained the ongoings behind the command controls. The rest were missing, probably still being gathered and sheepdogged by Aubrey.
"So," the bumbling brunette next to me nudged me in the arm, "in a few moments, I'm going to have the list of people whom I shall emulate the Jaegers to. Aren't you excited?"
I shook my head, my eyes fixed on the entrance as I awaited the arrival of-
"Beca! Can I sit next to you?" I eagerly nodded my head, shoving Jesse by the shoulders as we scooted down the table to make space. "Aubrey just told me that Marshal Herc finally has the list. I'm so excited!"
I found myself smiling at her bright enthusiasm just as the man himself appeared at the glass entrance with Aubrey and Luke flanking him. She caught my eyes and grinned.
So full of smug.
"Candidates," the man boomed as he took the seat at the head of the table, "thank you for coming on such short notice. It has been a good four months training with you. Each and everyone of you is a brave soul – willing to sacrifice for the sake of our world. For that, I applaud you."
A few appreciative claps resonated around the room at his words, dying down quicker than it should. Everyone's nervous.
Five Jaegers, ten Rangers – out of the 35 of us seated in this room.
The man cleared his throat again, his steel grey eyes roaming across the table studying every young face. Young, because no one older than 26 was crazy enough to come forth during Marshal Herc's recruitment speech.
"I have the list here – a complicated algorithm that would pit each of you against the other on the stage. At the end of the process, we will know who is drift-compatible with whom. And after, ten fine Rangers will be picked and paired for combat mission. Our Jesse lad here will assign each pair to the designated Jaeger. We'll meet at the Kwoon Combat Room at 1100hours. You have exactly two hours to prepare yourself."
With that, he rose again and disappeared behind the glass doors.
The Posen twins did not follow him this time.
Red alert, red alert.
The alarm blasted for the first time since I entered the Shatterdome. Riggers and mechanics were running amok, each rushing to his or her designated positions and the Command Center's suddenly packed full of people. Tendo's gripping on to the microphone, yelling some military code.
An octopus-shaped Kaiju was sighted a few minutes ago off the coast of Sweden near Gothenburg. Thankfully, the EU had finished their own Jaeger program just a week ago and now Ijus Korsfarare was en route to the oncoming threat.
A blinking red dot was fast approaching its green counterpart on the hologram.
"What category is this son of a gun?" Marshal Herc demanded, pushing his way through a horde of mechanics towards Tendo.
"Category... Category 5, sir."
The room fell silent as we watched the two dots merged.
"Ijus Korsafarare is a Mark 6 Jaeger, with nuclear missiles and adamantium blades lining its arms!" Jesse gushed, his face lost in his hands. "I can't believe... I can't believ-"
"Hey, at least the twins killed that bastard before they went down," I rubbed his shoulder and sighed empathetically.
He sniffed and slowly lifted his eyes towards me. "What am I supposed to do, Beca?"
"Build them stronger."
The Kwoon Combat Room was the place where we had our physicals. Punching bags lined a side of the vast room whilst mats piled up in the other. Even Bumper managed to lose the fats and exchange them for muscles in this very room that smelled of expired sweat and hours worked.
The room fell silent the moment an ashen-faced Marshal entered. His lips pursed and his brows furrowed as he contemplated his next instructions. Jesse nudged me a "see you later" and hopped off towards the man.
"Candidates," he begun, his voice not as confident as before, "I'm sure you've all heard the news. From now on, we're going to train better, we're going to train harder, we're going to train stronger. All of you – whether you get in the program or not. Because we're all going to fight this together."
Nods, nods everywhere.
He stared at us one last time before handing the floor over to Jesse. The brunette gulped a little, his eyes fixed on me while rubbing his palms against the back of his jeans.
The process was simple enough: you exchange blows and then you... Sing.
Weird combination.
The purpose was compatibility – a dialogue, not a fight.
Each of us was pre-paired with a group of people of whom Marshal Herc, Tendo and Dr. Caitlin Lightcap thought compatible.
35 candidates, five groups.
"Ugh!" A strawberry blonde named Ashley Jackson laid spray-eagle across the mat with her jo nearby. I reached out my hand and she gingerly grabbed it. "Thanks."
"2, 4. Last pair: Beca Mitchell v. Chloe Beale. Barehanded combat. Candidates, get ready!"
The redhead circled around me, her hands and forearms raised and readied with our eyes fixed on each other. I could hear my breathing – erratic and laborious from the earlier fight, as I raised my own fists. Without warning, the redhead jumped and vaulted through the air, her right foot coming towards my jaw.
Block. I caught her foot just inches away from my face and I attempted to twist it when she kicked and back-somersaulted to her original position, arms still raised with a smirk present on her face.
That seemed familiar.
"1 point to 0."
Chloe's got a weak ankle. I darted my eyes up at hers, just in time to see her peeking at her own Achilles' heel too. The smirk was gone, replaced with a frown as I squatted and swept a roundhouse kick at her ankle, sending her flying to a further end of the mat.
"1 all."
"Nice kick, Mitchell."
"I try."
"Well, try this!" Unf, that hurt. I panted from my current position on the mat, my hand clutching at my chest.
"2 points to 1."
The redhead smirked again and ambled over, her hand outstretched towards me just like Day 1. I smiled back in kind, grabbing hold of her hand and pulled her right down, wrapping my legs over her torso and flipping us over – me now gaining the top position with my hand gripping her neck. She gasped and her eyes flew wide open.
The smirk was back again.
"What the-"
In a swift turn of events, she managed to flip us over with my own hand choking my neck.
She didn't even break out in sweat.
The next and last task was held after lunch. I had to drag my aching body through the hungry crowd, my tray shaking in my hand as I sought out Fat Amy from amongst the sea of people with a bruised elbow.
"Beca! Over here!" The blonde was all smiles as I took my seat next to her, her dinner already half-polished off. "What took you so long?"
"We had the compatibility trials today. Just finished part one. Damned, I'm famished."
She bit her lower lip as she watched me chow down a heaped spoonful of risotto, her features seemingly worried. "How did it go?"
I gave a non-committal shrug, "No idea. I did manage to beat some of the people in my group though but none of them felt right. Except one."
"Chloe?" I halted.
"How did you-"
"Knew it."
We gathered again an hour after lunch. It was close to the stipulated bedtime and everybody was drained. Well, not exactly everyone – only those who have completed the first round and made it to the watershed list.
Based on the event that happened off the coast of Gothenburg today, it wasn't exactly a good list to be on.
"Keep your heads up. Thanks to the extensive research done by Dr Rachel Cooper from the K-Science lab, it was found that singing can stimulate the minds and help in searching out the mind-meldables. In a world of silence, you will have to seek out each other's voice and recognize it over the noise of memories."
Marshal Herc paused and looked over his list.
"16 people left on this list. Let's get started. Luke, Aubrey."
The Posen siblings were each given a noise-canceling headset and a single piece of paper with lyrics written on. Jesse nudged and winked, jutting his chin towards the paper as he whispered.
"I wrote those."
"You wrote gibberish?" I jibed, "oh wow. Congratulations."
Okay, I totally deserved the slap on the arm.
The rest of us watched as the siblings attempted to sing without prior knowledge of the song; their headpieces preventing them from hearing each other as they tried to harmonize.
Except for one missed note on Luke's end, it was perfect.
"Beca, Chloe – you're up. You're the last pair."
The redhead smiled apologetically at me, her eyes wandering down my bandaged elbow.
"Sorry." I curled my lips up and proceeded to pull the headset over my ears. Wow, this must be -9 decibels. A piece of paper was thrust into my hands and I looked over the words.
I was right. Gibberish.
Jesse motioned at us to start and I threw a glance at Chloe. She returned a small nod, her mouth opening to sing. I watched her lips part and close for a moment before completely shutting my eyes.
My own lips parting.
"Hey."
I paused my action – my keys hanging off the lock as I wheeled around to face an excited redhead.
"I think we'll make it."
It? The list?
I nodded, gesturing at my door and effectively yawning to tell her to leave and bother me tomorrow. She grinned and took one more step up towards my bunker.
Towards me.
"Good night, partner."
I didn't wash my left cheek that night. I didn't think I can.
Marshal Herc stood tall and mighty at the foot of the first Jaeger built in North America ever since Coyote Tango went under with its crew. He almost looked proud. The obviously quivering with excitement brunette that was Jesse who stood right next to him appeared pretty smug himself.
Why wouldn't he?
Five magnificent Jaegers – each its own beast, measuring 30 stories high and weighed at least 3000 tons ("of awesome", to quote Fat Amy). All housed in the busy hangar in which we now stood awaiting Marshall's speech.
Ten of us.
"Congratulations, dear Rangers." His voice rugged and solemn.
"Welcome onboard the Jaeger program."
"Told you we'd get it!" She chirped, her hand in mine as we followed Jesse and Dr Lightcap towards our designated Jaeger. "I'm so excited to see Ai!"
I frowned, turning towards Jesse before asking, "Why the hell did you call my machine Ai?"
"Our machine, Beca."
"Ai is love in Mandarin Chinese." Dr Lightcap said softly, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. "Why do we fight, Rangers?"
Silence. She chuckled lightly, pushing her glasses further up her nose bridge.
"Because we love. We protect what we love."