Her story was one of triumph and ruin, joy and grief, all mixed into one. She was a story in and of herself, the quiet gunner of Striker Eureka's assault helicopter. She would come to experience every emotion life had to offer, every high and low anyone could imagine. People would come into her story, that she thought would be there until the end, only to be written out without a second thought.
Her story was one of love and loss.
It began in a dingy bar, in what was left of downtown Sydney, Australia. It was early August 2024, and the newest members of the Sydney Shatterdome had just arrived. Most of them were mechanics, some maintenance, and a few worked on the bridge. Some were current workers who had volunteered to take the newbies out on the town, to show them one night of fun before going off to fight a global war.
Among the large group of soldiers, sat Katherine Doja, sipping on a drink called Sex on the Beach. It was her second one, and she was already feeling the affects of the colorful drink. She had only drank once before, when someone had snuck in a bottle of vodka to the barracks at her recruit school, and that had been years ago. So, when she said she was a lightweight, she meant it.
"Hey, Doja, how you feeling down there?" One of her comrades asked.
She looked at him with a drunken smile, nodding, "Good."
A few of them giggled, just as drunk as she was, going back to speaking among themselves. Kat had never really 'fit in' with the majority of her recruit class. She was quiet and tended to keep to herself, choosing to read on her downtime rather than create havoc around the base. The only ones she truly got along with, were her fellow crew members. Two pilots, a gunner, and a spotter; Matthias, Elena, Kat, and Momo, respectfully. They were the closest to family that she'd ever known, her own turning their back on her when she joined the military. They had stayed back at the Shatterdome, the trip from San Fransisco taking its toll on them.
Kat had gone, resolving to try and make more friends around their new home. So far, she wasn't doing very well at it.
She looked to her other side, to where a man sat on his own, watching the TV above them with the most striking pair of ocean blues she had ever seen. The guy himself was a masterpiece, as if chiseled from marble by Michelangelo himself. His blonde hair was tousled and unkempt, yet she felt that was the way it was supposed to be. With chin stubbled with five o'clock shadow, he was most certainly her type, or at least that's what the alcohol in her said.
Suddenly his eyes darted to hers, and he rose his eyebrows, "Take a picture, sweetheart, it'll last longer."
Kat's heart nearly leapt out of her throat, embarrassed at being caught staring, "Yeah, sorry."
He shrugged, "Admiring the view, I get it."
She snorted at his confidence, "You're quite full of yourself."
"I'm not the one who's staring."
He had her there. Turning away from him, she fished the straw from her drink into her mouth, taking a sip of coconut goodness. Abandoning the thought of the handsome man down the bar, she wondered when they would be leaving. Her heavy eyes pleaded for some sleep. She should have taken her crew's lead in staying behind.
"What's your specialty?"
She looked up, surprised to hear the heavy Australian accent again. This time when she looked at him, he was already gazing at her, right hand loosely clasping the rim of his glass. Clearing her throat, she said, "Ah, assault helicopter. Newly arrived to Australia from the San Fransisco Shatterdome."
He nodded, "So you're the backup."
"I guess you could say that, yeah."
"Pretty useless if you ask me."
She felt her eyebrows rise in surprise, "Excuse me?"
"What do you actually do? The Jaegers are the ones who do all the killing, so what do you do as a helicopter unit?" He looked at her smugly, arrogance radiating from his smirk.
"First of all, we're the eyes of the Jaegers when in the city. Second, if pilots eject from their conn-pods, it's our job to go in and rescue them-"
"If they're good pilots, they won't need to eject."
"Who do you think you are, exactly?" She asked, letting her anger momentarily cloud her judgement, "Many good pilots have died in combat."
He turned back to the TV, "Mediocre. If they were good, they'd still be alive."
Kat felt more anger flare up in her chest. Before arriving in Sydney for reassignment, her crew had been assigned to the Jaeger, Romeo Blue, in San Fransisco. Her pilots, Bruce and Trevin Gage, had been close to the small helicopter unit. They'd watched the brothers being torn apart by Hardship from the air above Romeo, utterly helpless. Kat had used everything she had, until her gun ran out, not making even a difference.
So, this guy saying how useless she was, really hit a nerve deep inside her. She already knew how useless they were, but she had to believe that she was still making a difference. That she was still keeping her pilots safe.
"Wow you are an asshole." She said in disbelief, blowing a puff of air out of her mouth, "I don't see you out there fighting the war."
His lips quirked, "Well, you're new, aren't you?"
"Yeah, well even I can see an arrogant ass like you couldn't be in the military."
"Why's that?"
"No one would want to work with you. I can barely stand you and it's been five minutes."
This made him grin, "Good thing I'm not trying to impress you, then."
"Hey Doja, you coming?"
She tore her gaze away from the jerk, thankful for an excuse to end the conversation. Her group was all on their feet, moving toward the door. "Yeah, coming!" She called.
Turning back to the man, she said, "I'd say it's a pleasure, but it wasn't."
"Likewise."
Angrily grabbing her jacket, she turned her back on him and jogged to catch up to the others.
They were a rowdy bunch, the girls dancing down the middle of the street to impress the boys. Kat never saw the appeal of making yourself look like an idiot, or how boys were impressed by it. Maybe that was why she'd never had a steady boyfriend before. Or perhaps it was because she was too busy learning how to support a Jaeger and stay alive, rather than how to be a proper lady.
In short, Kat was different. In a good or bad way, she had yet to discover.
The new bar was a step up from the last, but still rather dirty. She figured it was hard to keep a good bar with the war going on. They were lucky there was any still left. At least it was free of any attractive jerks.
She ordered another Sex on the Beach, choosing to play more with the straw than actually drink it. Taking a few sips so as not to waste her money, she rested her elbows on the counter, laying her head in her right palm. The same station was playing on the tv as the other, and her mind wandered back to that man. His attitude had really frustrated her. Who was he to criticize the fallen Jaeger pilots? At least they were actually doing something to protect humanity, unlike he was. People like him were the worst. But the more she got angrier, the more she thought about him. He may have been arrogant, but something told her he had more depth than an egotistical asshole. She was a little disappointed that she hadn't asked his name, if only to know who to steer clear of.
After about an hour at the new bar, Kat got up to use the restroom. It was about as dirty as she imagined it would be, but she made due. Glancing in the mirror, she grimaced at her reflection. Perhaps it was the bad lighting, or the room swimming, but she looked about as good as a drowned rat. The humidity had plastered her hair to her face, bringing out a light sheen of sweat on her skin.
Wandering back out into the bar, she came to an abrupt stop upon seeing the room practically empty. Looking around in confusion, she wondered where her friends went. Had they just gone outside?
The door slammed against the building as she swung it open with more force than she intended. Wincing, she gently guided it closed before turning to search for her friends. A slight panic started to roil the alcohol in her stomach. She had no idea where she was, or how to get back to the Shatterdome. Of course she could always pay a taxi, but finding one in this area was near impossible. How had such a large group just disappeared?
"No, no, no." She groaned to herself, bending over to rest her hands on her knees, pulling in deep breaths of air. How could they have forgotten her? Because, dummy, you didn't make friends with any of them, her mind gloated.
"If you're gonna puke, do it back there."
Kat shot up straight, whirling around to face the last person she wanted to see. With a start, she met the gaze of the human portrait from the other bar. He was leaning against the building, not far from the door she had nearly taken off its hinges, one hand in his jeans pocket, the other holding a lit cigarette to his lips. His tone had been condescending, his blue eyes watching her in amusement.
Frowning, she narrowed her gaze at him and said, "I'm not going to puke."
"Sure looks like you are."
"Well I'm not."
His lips quirked upwards, and he took a drag of his cigarette, "Alright then." Blowing a stream of smoke into the air, he continued, "Let me guess, they ditched you?"
"Who?"
"Your friends."
"No." She crossed her arms, "I'm supposed to be meeting them here."
He nodded, eyebrows risen in disbelief, "Right. That's why I just saw all of them walk out of here five minutes ago."
Kat had been wrong. This jerk was no Michelangelo statue, he was more like the high school art piece on display for the week. "Ok fine, so they left me behind. What's it to you?"
"Absolutely nothing." He threw his cigarette onto the ground, quashing it with his toe, "I was waiting out here for them to leave. Rookie recruits are so fucking annoying."
"Look who's talking." She muttered.
He chuckled, "I'm not a rookie, sweetheart. And you were wrong before, I am in the military. I'm the real deal."
This made Kat roll her eyes. 'The real deal'? Barf. "Good for you. Can you tell me which way they went, or were you too busy admiring your reflection in the window?"
His lips quirked again, but he didn't smile, "They went left."
"Thanks."
"You won't catch up with them."
"How do you know that?"
He shrugged, "They're way ahead of you."
"Then I guess I'll walk fast."
"Hey wait," He called, but she didn't stop to look back. She heard gravel crunching behind her, and then slim fingers wrapped around her upper arm, pulling her around to face him.
She didn't waste time in pulling herself free from his grip, slamming an open palm into his chest, "Do not touch me."
He stumbled back, but rose his hands up in a gesture of good faith, "Whoa, hey, I didn't mean anything. I was just going to ask if you were planning on walking by yourself."
She arched an eyebrow, "Does it look like there's anyone else I'm going to walk with?"
He rubbed his chest where she'd struck him, his eyes alight with curiosity, "I'll walk you back. You're going to the Shatterdome, right?"
"Yeah, but you need clearance to get in there." Kat looked him up and down with a judging gaze, "Something I'm sure you don't have."
This made him laugh, "You don't think so?"
"No."
"Well," His eyes held hers curiously, "I guess you'll just have to see when we get there."
"Right, like I'm really going to walk back there with you." She turned away from him to continue down the street, "Haven't you ever heard not to walk with strangers?"
"I'm going the same way as you," He said, appearing at her side as if materializing out of thin air, "so you'll have to deal with it."
"I'm going to call the cops."
"I'd like to see you do that."
Kat glared at him, "Did your parents not teach you basic human manners?"
"All I've got is my dad." He said, "And we don't get along very well."
"Figures, you definitely lack a female touch."
He chuckled, "So, sweetheart, what's your name?"
"Not sweetheart, that's for sure." She muttered, and then sighed. He wasn't leaving anytime soon, so she might as well try to tolerate him, "Katherine Doja. I go by Kat, my friends call me Doja."
"You mean the ones who left you in downtown Sydney alone?"
"No, my crew." She motioned to him with her jaw, "What's your name?"
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then said, "Charles." Looking down at her from the corner of his eye, as if waiting for her reaction.
"Well Charles, thanks for walking with me." Kat gave him a small smile, "Even if I don't want you to."
"You're absolutely welcome, Doja."
They walked in silence for a few minutes, the warm breeze blowing Kat's chocolate locks behind her shoulders. Next to her, she heard a click, and turned to find Charles lighting another cigarette. "I didn't peg you as one to smoke." She commented.
"You've known me for about two hours now." He said sarcastically, "How can you peg me for anything?"
He had a point. Again. "Are you always this nice, or do I just bring it out in you?"
"I've been told I'm always kind."
"I have a hard time believing that."
He laughed once, blowing a stream of smoke into the air, "I like you."
"I'm flattered." Her voice was surprisingly steady for the way her stomach flipped. She felt heat creep its way up her neck and into her cheeks, suddenly thankful that it was dark outside.
"Calm down, sweetheart." He said, cigarette smoke trailing in the breeze behind him, "I don't know how to not be blunt. Speaking of," He glanced down at her, blue eyes holding her brown ones, "I've been trying to come up with a way to convince you to come back to my place instead of the barracks, but I just can't think of a good line. Blame it on the alcohol."
She hesitantly glanced up at him, "What?"
Charles shrugged, "Come over to my place."
"Why would I go there?" She asked stupidly.
"Are you really that dense, or are you just pretending?" He asked after laughing outright, flicking the cigarette to the ground, "You don't have to, I've just been thinking about kissing you since you punched me in the chest."
Oh. Oh.
If Kat thought her cheeks were red before, she was dead wrong. Her whole face must have gone the color of a neon red sign as she stopped walking. "Are you asking me to come back to your room for…" She made a gesture by throwing her hands in the air, "You know!"
He shrugged again, back pedaling until he was directly in front of her, "I'm not apologizing."
"I just…I've never…" She looked away from him, embarrassed in her lack of experience, "This has never happened before. I don't really know what to do in this situation."
"It's a simple yes or no." He looked exhausted from waiting for her decision, "You're making this more complicated than it really has to be."
"I'm just angry at myself."
"Why's that?"
"Because I'm about to say yes to a jerk like you." She said quietly. Or rather, the alcohol said. He was just too cute to say no to, and she knew if she did, Elena would be angry at being denied juicy details. "You really are an ass. You need to work on that."
She heard him chuckle, "Oh, you just keep getting better and better, Kat Doja."
"What do you mean?"
He showed her rather than tell her, one hand tipping the back her head up, the other wrapping around her lower back as their lips met. He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey, two things she never thought could make her head spin. His lips were softer than she expected, not rough, but also not gentle. He made it very clear what he wanted, and Kat was happy to oblige.
It didn't take them long to get back to his house, or for their clothes to hit the floor as the door closed. Kat took a moment to admire his muscled torso, eyes landing on deep bruises sprinkled throughout. Gently touching one, she asked, "What are these from?"
"Combat." He answered simply.
She shot him a look, "No seriously."
"You don't have to believe me."
"If you were in the military, you'd bunk at the Shatterdome."
"This is my family's home." He said, "Even pilots get a day off every now and then."
"Oh so you're a pilot now?"
"Always have been."
"You're good at telling stories."
"That's not the only thing I'm good at."
Charles, for being habitually arrogant, was surprisingly gentle and considerate of her inexperience. He took it slow, making sure she was comfortable before exploring anything new.
It was a night of passion and longing, a far cry from what she thought one-night-stands were supposed to be. Once the pain of a first time was over, she was much more receptive to his wants. He was gentle, yet firm, his touch lighting a fire that she'd never before felt.
When she woke the next morning, Charles was gone. She knew she shouldn't be disappointed, but part of her had hoped he might have taken a further interest in her. But why would a guy like that go for a girl like her? She was just plain old Doja.
So she'd quickly gotten dressed and left his house, calling a cab to take her back to the Shatterdome as the sun's rays were just starting to peek over the horizon.
All the while, thoughts of Charles filled her mind.
"So?" Elena Cortez-Vasquez, bumped her shoulder into Kat's, peering up at her with excitement, "You didn't come home last night. Where were you?"
"I got lost." Kat answered. It was technically sort of truthful.
The look Elena gave her, said that she definitely didn't believe her, "Yeah right, you were out finessing the cute Australian boys, weren't you?"
"No."
"I can tell when you're lying." Elena grinned, "You totally met a boy didn't you? I'm so pissed I didn't go out with you now!"
"I'm not, you would have stolen him from me." Kat said jokingly. Standing at 5'3" and weighing in at 112 pounds, Elena was a tan-skinned, raven haired, hispanic beauty, with freckles peppering her cheeks. She was naturally petite, but don't be fooled, Elena could kick ass. As the number one pilot of their crew, Elena was a certified badass.
"Oh shut up, Kat. You underestimate how hot you are." Elena said, throwing her hair over her shoulder. Most days she had it in a single French braid, but that morning it flowed loosely to the small of her back. Most likely, the night owl had slept until the last possible moment, not giving herself enough time to braid it.
"If you say so."
"So what's his name?" Elena continued, "Are you going to see him again?"
"He said it was Charles, if that's the truth." Kat sighed, "And probably not. He was gone when I woke up this morning."
"Aww, that's a bummer." Elena frowned, and then grinned, "We'll just find you a new guy. Chuck Hansen is basically a god among humans, and he's one of Striker Eureka's pilots. We have a fifty-fifty chance of being assigned to his Jaeger."
"This sounds more like a plan for you." Kat said with a small smile.
"I mean, I wouldn't say no. No offense."
Kat laughed, "None taken."
"Is that all you think of, Ellie?" Matthias asked, throwing his arms around the girl's shoulders and poking his head in between them.
"Boys?" She thought about it and then ginned, "Yep pretty much!"
Matthias rolled his icy-blue eyes. He was originally from Germany, recruited by San Fransisco for his expert piloting abilities, making him their number two pilot. The tallest member of their crew, he was 6'4" and 189 pounds. Platinum blonde hair was cut short and tight, skin a smooth pale. He was the epitome of European descent, and a real hit with the ladies at the bar.
"Oh come on, give her a break Matt," Momo said from behind them, "She's gotta think about them, because she's never gonna get one."
Elena gasped, craning her neck so she could glare at him, "Take that back!"
"Nope." He joked.
Momo was short for Mohammad. His parents moved to the United States from Egypt before he was born. He was the second tallest of their group, at 6'0" and 167 pounds. He was much like Elena, with slightly darker skin and equally dark hair. He had eyes like a hawk, which came in handy when looking for survivors of a decimated city. This made him an asset for their team as the spotter.
This left Kat, a good 5'7", and 136 pounds. She had rich chocolate hair that fell to the small of her back when down, but much like Elena, she wore it up. Usually in a high pony tail. Her skin was tan as well, stained from the many years spent on her family farm. She was born and raised in Wisconsin, choosing to leave their simple life to fight a war that her parents didn't believe was theirs. She was the least skilled of their crew, but a good shot, so she was designated as their gunner.
The mood shifted as they arrived at the door to the Shatterdome's bay. Inside, it was just as hustle and bustle as San Fransisco. Vehicles sped back and forth, groups of people running around, leaving Kat to wonder if they even knew where they were going.
Two Jaegers stood in their ports, towering over the dome. Vulcan Spector and Striker Eureka. Both bots looked beautiful to Kat, but it was Striker who really captivated her. The one and only Mark 5, the fastest and strongest of all Jaegers. She was a sight to see.
"They never fail to make me speechless." Momo mumbled behind her.
"You must be the crew of Mr. Jones."
They turned to see a man who was the epitome of military. Light hair cut into a high fade and uniform cut and crisp, he extended a hand to each of them, "My name is Marshall Oliver White. I'm in charge of the Sydney Shatterdome." The crew introduced themselves, and then followed his lead across the dome, dodging traffic as they did. "How was your travels?" He asked, glancing back at them.
"Long and boring, sir." Elena answered, "We're happy to be here."
"Good to hear." He said with a smile, "I would also like to express my condolences to you. I heard you were good friends with the pilots of Romeo Blue."
"We were." Matthais said, "Thank you sir."
"It was terrible what happened to them." Marshall continued, "They were a good team."
Kat cleared her throat, "So, Marshall, are we here to receive our assignment?"
"Yes," He answered, holding up an index finger, "forgive me, it has been quite a busy morning already."
They followed him further into the dome, until they were standing in front of Striker Eureka. He held out his hands on either side of him, "I have assigned you to Striker Eureka. Her crew has been transferred to the Hong Kong branch."
Kat hid her smile. The fact that they would be running support for Striker Eureka, of all Jaegers, making her giddy with excitement. Oh the fights they would see! The same feeling was shared by her friends, as Elena turned to look at her with raised eyebrows.
Turning back to the Marshall, Elena asked, "Can I ask why their crew is being transferred?"
The Marshall hesitated, his smile faltering for only a moment, "Ah, yes. One of Striker's pilots requested it. They didn't get along very well."
"What happened to Vulcan's crew?" Elena asked again.
"They were killed in their last battle."
This sent a hush over the crew. It was well known that they were also Kaiju targets, but it made it all the more real when a crew was killed.
"Now, I asked Striker's pilots to be here today. Coincidentally they just finished a simulator testing and should be here any moment." The Marshall said, and no sooner as he had, a middle aged man appeared from behind one of Striker's supports. He was dressed in a light, almost silver, green armor, the Pan Pacific Defense Corps' emblem emblazoned on his shoulder pieces.
He saw the Marshall and then eyed the crew before him, flashing a small smile, "Good morning, Marshall."
"Herc, this is your new assault crew." Marshall said, clapping him on the shoulder, "Crew, this is Hercules Hansen, one of Striker Eureka's pilots."
"Good to meet you." Herc said as he shook their hands.
As he did, Kat noticed another man in the same armor standing apart from them. There was a towel draped over his head as he flipped through some sort of manual, back facing them. Herc noticed as well, and called, "Chuck, your new crew is here."
"Yeah, yeah, one second." The one named Chuck said, waving his hand dismissively.
Herc sighed, but didn't say anything as Chuck threw down the manual on the table in front of him. Removing the towel from his head, he turned and started walking toward them.
As soon as he did, Kat felt like the whole room was spinning. She inhaled sharply, feeling the heat traveling to her cheeks. Blonde hair tousled and unkempt, chiseled jaw, and ocean blues.
It was him! It was Charles! The guy she'd hooked up with the night before! But, that was impossible, it couldn't be him. Charles was a useless bum jerk, not Chuck, a famous Jaeger pilot. She would have known if it was him.
Deciding that he just looked nearly identical to him, she clenched her teeth and shifted behind Matthias. Chuck hadn't seen her yet, or at least she didn't think he did. His reaction to her would tell her everything she needed to know.
Unlike Herc, Chuck didn't shake their hands. Instead, he stood before them and said, "Alright, let's get one thing clear between us. I don't need you."
Nope. It was definitely Charles. Kat wanted to crawl into a ball and die. She'd hooked up with Chuck freaking Hansen and didn't even know it.
"I was told we need assault teams to back us up out there, that's the only reason you're here." Chuck shrugged, "If you're a competent crew, we might get along."
Debatable, Kat thought to herself.
"And-" Chuck's gaze flicked to Kat's, and he faltered, clearly surprised to see her. Clearing his throat, he recovered, "Just…stay out of my way."
"Charming." Elena muttered next to Kat.
As they were following the Marshall for the tour of the Shatterdome, she felt slim fingers wrap around her arm, much like the night before. She was tugged behind one of Striker's supports, and leaned against it as Chuck stared down at her. His eyes were wide as he exclaimed, "What the fuck?"
"You tell me, Charles." She emphasized the fake name he'd given her.
"That's my name, dimwit." He said, "Charles Hansen."
"Literally everyone on the planet calls you Chuck." Kat shot back, "You neglected to tell me the fact that you're the pilot of Striker Eureka. I think that's some pretty important information."
"You neglected to tell me you were on the crew assigned to her!"
"i told you I was finding out my assignment today!" She exclaimed, "If you were the one who asked for a new crew, don't you think that maybe I was you're new assignment?"
"If you tell anyone-" He started.
"Oh please," She rolled her eyes, "Get over yourself. Now if you excuse me, I have to get back to the tour before they realize I'm gone. We can talk about this later."
He watched her go, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of all the situations he'd gotten himself in before, this had to be the worst. What a pain in the ass, Kat Doja, but oh was she a good pain in the ass.
Perhaps, Chuck hoped, this wasn't such a bad thing. Perhaps Doja would be someone he could get along with.
A/N: Hello! Okay, so I've been wanting to write a Pacific Rim fic for Chuck since 2013. I've written so many possibilities and deleted so many possibilities because I've never liked anywhere I was taking them. Originally I was going to make Kat a pilot, but the route I wanted to take is much like Raleigh's story, and I don't want that.
I like to think that each Jaeger also has a helicopter team that watches over them, which I know there are helicopters out, but ones specifically for them. To provide support and such. So here we are!
I don't know why I love Chuck as much as I do. Like, I'm high key obsessed with him and Striker Eureka, and I would go to the theater every day if they made Striker a movie. Literally every day. I'm still trying to get a feel for writing his character, so bare with me if he feels a little oc. I also know that Chuck isn't very old in the Pacific Rim universe, but I'm just pretending he's a bit older. He's also one of those people that only smokes when they drink in this story, so we probably won't see him smoking much anymore. And as a useless fact, this was Chuck's first hook up, so he's not a thot. Just to clarify.
As far as my oc, Kat, I got inspiration from Doja Cat. I'm all about her song Tia Tamara right now, and I was like omg Kat Doja. She's perfect! So thanks Doja Cat!
Anyway, thank you for reading this bit here! Hope you enjoyed it and decide to stick around!
Major song influence for this chapter is: Climbing the Walls - Backstreet Boys.
Until next time!