AN: This is my first fic so no flames plz! Reviews are welcome and appreciated :) This is based off of the lovely photoset of the Shatterdome Collective by archadianskies.

EDIT: I DO plan on making this multi-chapters. With school coming up soon, I'll try to update as much as I can before going back. Your reviews motivate this story so review away!

Disclaimer: I do not own Pacific Rim

Stepping off the plane into Hong Kong was a mistake. The ride from the airport to the agency's headquarters was a blur as Raleigh tried to contain his emotions. He shouldn't be here. If he had any sense, he'd turn around and go back to Anchorage. Back into hiding where at least he knew it was safe. Where he knows he can't be hurt again. But there it was again, that same sense of duty and the reluctant consent to a promise that brought him here in the first place. Damn it, Yancy. He clenched his fists and opened the cab door.

Raleigh stood in front of the looming entrance to the building, every bone in his body resisting his decision to be here right now. Here, headquarters for the Pan Pacific Spy Agency, created to protect and serve the twenty-one countries that make it and to fight justice all along the Pacific.

Raleigh scoffed. All hail the PPSA.

Inside, he was directed to the top floor, where Marshall's- no, Pentecost's office was. It had taken the girl behind the counter a while to recognize him. His hair had grown past his ears, but he had taken to tying it up. His stubble was now a small beard. If Yancy had seen him now, he'd probably call him homeless. The last time he had seen this place had been five years ago when Pentecost had brought them in for the Xian drug cartel assignment. The girl wouldn't have remembered him if he hadn't convinced her to look up his file.

The place had changed very little since he'd last seen it, with its high ceilings and gray walls. The Shatterdome, as many of the agents took to calling it. A running joke until even Pentecost had started calling the whole team, the Shatterdome Collective. Now years later, there were only a handful of agents left, not that you would notice from the atmosphere today. Everyone, from the secretary behind the counter to the scrawny intern in the back, was buzzing with anticipation. Or maybe nervousness.

He just hoped it wasn't because of him.

"Mr. Becket," boomed a voice to his right. Stacker Pentecost's large frame spilled into Raleigh's view and suddenly he wished he had prepared a bit more for this meeting. Pentecost was a leader first and a businessman second, known for his clean cut image and no nonsense attitude. There wasn't a man alive today who had ever seen the man out of his traditional suit and tie, except for maybe Hercules Hansen, Pentecost's oldest friend. So standing next to him today, Raleigh had expected to feel uneasy in his worn out sweater. Right now, it felt a lot closer to intimidation.

"Sir," Raleigh greeted him with a nod.

Pentecost looked at him curiously. "I have to be honest, Mr. Becket. I didn't think you'd come."

Raleigh considered this. "Neither did I."

Pentecost nodded, five years of pain and regret between them. He motioned to the hallway in front of them. "Follow me."

Pentecost led him into his office, a simple tasteless room with almost no furniture and even fewer decorations. He quickly sat down and pulled out a few files and folders that lay sprawled across his desk. "Now," he began. "Before I begin, you should know that the PPSA council wishes to express their dearest apologies for Yancy." Raleigh narrowed his eyes at him, whether in disbelief or silent rage Pentecost couldn't say. "They also would like you to know that your service to our cause has been greatly appreciated and will not go overlooked when all is said and done."

Raleigh leaned forward in his seat. "Cut the crap, Pentecost. I don't want to be here any longer than I have to. And by the twitch in your eye, I can see you feel the same. Now, why am I here?"

Pentecost sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. "I hate protocol as much as you do, Mr. Becket. I hate it, but I have to follow it." Here, he looked down at the file in his hands, a strange kind of sadness in his eyes. "But sometimes it's the only thing that keeps us going."

At Raleigh's confused silence, Pentecost stood up and dropped the file onto his lap. "Your assignment, Mr. Becket, is to retrieve a fellow Ranger from a botched mission in Tokyo, Japan." Raleigh hesitantly flipped through pages of data and test preps, settling on a picture. In the corner, were the words 'Name: Mako Mori. Alias: Gipsy Danger'. She looked to be about fifteen in the picture, wearing a standard issue uniform for cadets going through the training program. Her eyes were wild with excitement. Behind it was a more recent photo taken in a dark lit restaurant. An older gentleman of maybe sixty was seated at the head of the table, guards surrounding him, and Ms. Mori to his left, eyes downcast. Her hair had grown past her shoulders, but from the angle the picture was taken, Raleigh couldn't determine how long. Her hand was tightly wound in the man's own hands. Among the various thoughts rolling around in his head about the unusual assignment, the thought that Raleigh kept coming back to was what Ms. Mori would look like smiling.

Pentecost was talking. "I have had several of my own agents personally go there to ask her back, but she stubbornly refuses to leave till the mission is done. I would go myself, but I'm afraid I'm no longer welcomed in Tokyo." He moved to the window, all of Hong Kong lay before him. "It's part of the reason why the agency had to move our headquarters to China. We were facing death threats from the yakuza there."

Raleigh looked up from the picture to see Pentecost standing with his back to him, turned toward the window. "You're worried that she may have turned."

Pentecost sighed heavily again. "I don't think Ms. Mori would willingly double cross this agency, but… her father's the kumicho of the Nakamura clan." Raleigh blinked. Boss. Pentecost turned back to Raleigh, his tone insistent. "You should know the sway family has over one's self."

Raleigh closed the file. "Is that why you're sending me? To persuade her with my own tragic story?" The words were biting and he meant them. The past aside, Raleigh Becket was no one's errand boy to use his own demons for the benefit of someone else's piece of mind. The only reason he even agreed to come was for the chance to settle things with Pentecost. Not to come back to work for him.

"I'm saying," Pentecost said a little more forcefully. "That she won't listen to anyone right now. She's as stubborn as you are." He looked pointedly at Raleigh now. "You were one of the best agents the PPSA has ever seen. If anyone could bring her back, it would be you." Raleigh shook his head and laid the file back on the desk before moving to the door.

"Mr. Becket." Raleigh reluctantly looked back, his hand on the door. "If you do this, you're debt with me is paid." Finish the mission, Yancy's voice choked out from the turmoil of his thoughts. With Pentecost pulling him in and Yancy at his back, Raleigh was helpless to the sudden turn of events. In a way, he always knew he would accept the job, whatever it ended up being. But whether it was for Yancy's sake or his own, Raleigh couldn't tell anymore.

Besides, given the choice of Anchorage or Tokyo, where would he rather die?