Ring of Fire Chapter Three
Here we are with the first submission! A little Juggernaut type for yas! ;)
I'm sorry this one took so long, I've been a little caught up with Pacific High. Anyways, subs are still open for Kaiju and Jaegers, but I don't think I'll be able to take any more Jaeger Pilots.
Good hunting.
~Pyro
(UPDATE! Re-arranging time passages slight to fix continuity)
-.-.-.-
Colin and Jack Grayson, Canadian pilots of the CEF Crusher, stared at the TV screen in their bunkroom in awe.
World War III had started.
America, for whatever reason that hadn't been announced yet, had pretty much declared war with the Russians. And, as a result of what was supposedly bad Shatterdome orders, had accidentally kicked the rest of the world into frenzy.
"This is crazy, man." Colin, the younger brother, muttered while pacing in a small circle behind the couch. "Now are we going to get out there and help the United States, or do we need to defend ourselves from them?! It's insane!"
"Oh quit yelling and listen to the news," Jack ordered, leaning forward, perched on the edge of his seat. "It might actually answer your questions."
-.-.-.-
"Within the last six hours alone," the news reporter began, "A total of twelve Jaeger battles have been reported. Of these, a third ended with nuclear explosions close enough to contaminate the local cities and Shatterdomes. HAZCHEM crews from all nations are on standby, including America's, for a global truce so the radiation can be contained and dealt with. This act was prompted by the Global Climate Crisis treaty, which every nation signed."
A clip was brought up. Jaegers were fighting Jaegers just in Magadan bay… in Russia. "In this particular battle between four local Russian Jaegers, three American Jaegers, and two Canadian Jaegers, the fight ended with a nuclear meltdown, resulting it the total loss of six Jaegers, possible destruction or retirement of the rest, and a whole city destroyed."
The clip ended with a nuclear fireball engulfing the news helicopter.
"Australia and New Zealand are at high tensions, but we have just been informed that there is an alliance between them and the Pacific Island regions, where another battle took place. The thirteenth battle is likely to take place there, with more Jaegers incoming. At this time we are unable to confirm their nationality or allegiance, but we can report that one Jaeger is a Mark-VII artillery, and at least two are what is commonly known as "Jaeger Tanks". We will be continuing with live updates and feed as we get it. Be warned that in our haste to get the pictures to you, they will be unedited in the first viewings."
The next clip was of a rather unprofessional report by Janet Davies, detailing the events of the battle that had occurred only a short while ago. The Basilisk Centauri leaping off a cliff and trigging a backup-core meltdown in the Delta Fenris was a sight to behold.
"Unfortunately the broadcasting gear was damaged after the thermonuclear meltdown of the Delta Fenris. Our tech support staff are already working their hardest to bring it back online before the next conflict emerges. Interviews are being conducted at the local Shatterdome to see if any more information can be gained. At the current ETA, the Blue Reef Shatterdome will have peace for two hours; a squad of interceptor jets forced the Jaegers to drop and activate earlier than planned, as far as we can tell."
Next, a clip of something completely unrelated to WWIII came up; Raleigh and Mako Becket-Mori, one of whom was heavily pregnant.
"In other news…"
-.-.-.-
=This is a bad idea=
Trust you to think that. I may be a suicidal maniac, but I'm not ready to die just yet.
=Don't forget the bloodlust=
They can't pilot the Valkyrie Chaos until they get her repaired anyway.
=Byron, you have literally nothing in common with them; attempting to Drift with them is the stupidest plan you could possibly come up with=
You're in my head. I thought you'd at least know everything I did concerning the plan.
=I can allow you to pilot solo; but that doesn't mean I can allow you to Drift with anyone=
Better to try and fail then not to try and something else happens.
=I hate those sayings, but only because you can't completely remember them all=
Get over it. I'm in charge.
=Ah yes, wonderfull=
Byron groaned and looked around his bunk room for a magnet. There wasn't one immediately visible in the huge mess. Not that they'd let him have a magnet in the first place.
"Sir?"
Byron turned around to look at the poor man shaking in the doorway. Couldn't really blame him for being scared. Byron had been known for his violent approach to… well… everything, really.
"Whattaya want." He grunted in response.
"Clarisse and Veronica are awake, sir. They're waiting in the Kwoon Combat room for you." The messenger said, quickly scampering off as soon as Byron nodded his thanks.
=I still think this is a terrible plan=
Better than nothing, you sad excuse for a supercomputer!
=I'm an AI, not a supercomputer; there happens to be a difference=
DOES IT LOOK LIKE I CARE?
Bloody hell, that thing could be a menace sometimes.
-.-.-.-
Veronica was awake… but she felt like she had the hangover from hell. Plus her nose was still dripping bloody practically every time she moved her head. "Cee, can you remember what happened? Last thing I knew our arm got ripped off and then… umm… something exploded. Something big."
Clarisse sighed loudly; staring up at the roof like it might hold the answers. "That's the fifth time you've asked me that. Are you sure you don't have concussion or something?" she asked, professionally worried.
"Uhm…" Veronica hummed, unsure.
Loud, heavy, uncaring footsteps could be heard stomping their way down the halls towards the combat room. Clarisse sighed again. Byron. It had to be. Nobody else but… well, actually, there were only a couple of people who could walk that loudly, but they had to put effort into it.
"Veronica, Clarisse," Byron nodded to them in turn as he came in. Wow, he was being polite today.
"What do you want, Volt-Head?" Veronica asked, still woozy from her nuking.
"I want you two to help me pilot the Basilisk."
Veronica stopped her swaying and stared at Byron, eyes open like saucepans, mouth hanging open like a flytrap, bloody tissue hanging out her nose… to say she was shocked would have been the understatement of the century. "What?"
"You heard me." Byron gestured to her, ignoring the looks he was getting from Clarisse. "I need your help to- oh for the love of god, WILL YOU SHUT UP!" he suddenly shouted at the ceiling, giving everyone a fright. "Anyway, I need help piloting the Basilisk Centauri. You two don't have a Jaeger until the Valkyrie is repaired, and frankly we can't risk another EMP surprise like last time."
Clarisse kept opening and closing her mouth, trying to form the right words, but failing completely. "Who-wha-why-ho-… ungh?"
Byron grunted as if to say, 'maybe you aren't good enough. Maybe I shouldn't have asked'.
"Why?" she finally spat out at the mountain of a man in front of her. Clarisse immediately bit her tongue, fearing she might have… umm…
"No better option. Plus it's no help to anyone to have two perfectly fine Jaeger pilots lying around when there's available Drifts and a damn hard fight ahead." Byron shrugged. "Meet me at the Conn-Pod when you're ready. I'll be taking her out for a test run on the repairs about forty minutes to the hostile ETA."
And with that, he left the room, loudly and uncaringly as he had entered it.
Veronica and Clarisse, still both in a state of shock, stared at one another, then the door, and back again, before finally getting a move on to get their drive-suits back on.
-.-.-.-
"The repairs on the Basilisk went pretty well considering the time limit we were on." Tendo Choi began, talking to Janet. She was a pretty thing, but Tendo was married and had other problems right now… but he'd always liked being on TV every now and then. "The inner workings of the mechanical stuff is still in bad shape, but with the armour all fixed up it should be able to survive until more permanent repairs can be done. As you can see, most of the damage is just aesthetic right now."
Janet flashed him a huge smile, complete with unnaturally white TV-Presenter teeth. "Do you guys here at the Shatterdome have any idea what might have caused what is now commonly known as World War Three?" she asked, stepping to the side so Greg could get a decent shot of the head LOCCENT technician.
"Well, we've had a couple of theories on Russia or America making a move for a land-grab, maybe China, but we honestly have no idea." Tendo answered. "By the time we realised the Delta Fenris was hostile, WWIII had already been going on for a good six hours or so, I think. We've kinda made a decision to have the news channels on 24/7 up in LOCCENT now, so we don't miss anything else important." He joked, before becoming serious again. "That blunder very nearly cost us two Jaegers and three pilots. And one of those Jaegers might still very well be out of commission for a month or eight."
Janet looked up at the Valkyrie in its dock. "Yes, one of them does seem to need a hand. And an arm… so," she said, turning back to Tendo, "After the new threat has been successfully dealt with, or god forbid, we lose, what's going to happen?" she asked.
Tendo whistled slowly and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, if we lose, prepare the get the hell out of here. I don't know what's going to happen but they're likely to try smashing the Shatterdome or something. But if we win, we'll probably be staying on defence until we get some proper co-ordinated intel on where our loyalties lie." He said, completely serious. "Fighting a war is easy; just point and shoot. Or punch, depending on how you're fighting. But winning a war? That requires for you to know who's on which side."
-.-.-.-
"Remember, no matter how interesting our pasts are, do not chase the rabbit," Byron said, warning the girls as they hooked themselves into the two harnesses at the front. Byron's spot was the main one at the back, on a slightly raised platform in the slightly cavernous interior of the Basilisk Centauri's head.
The plan was for a dry-dock run, disconnected from the Jaeger's body, to make sure they'd be able to Drift. Best not to leave anything to chance in a battle where you're heavily outnumbered.
"Initiating Neural Handshake," the Jaeger AI stationed back at LOCCENT intoned over the loudspeakers in both LOCCENT and the Basilisk Centauri's systems. "Prepare for drop."
"Override drop sequence; delay code 'I know where I can find a magnet big enough to erase you'." Byron said loudly. A moment passed before the Jaeger AI complied, the docking clamps locking back onto the head with a clang.
"Dry-dock Drifting confirmed."
Veronica was a little edgy about this. Byron had been heard violently yelling at his AI implant quite often. To share her head with his was quite… well, she didn't know how to put it. Would she be sharing her head with his AI too? So many different factors to account for, but the huge concern for her and Clarisse was the rabbit. Once or twice in their first Drifts, they had not only chased a rabbit or two of their own, but also their co-pilots rabbits.
The mystery of each others pasts might be too much to ignore.
Clarisse was thinking of the exact same thing, analyzing everything. She could ignore her own and Veronica's rabbits, but should she worry about Byron? His mind was usually focused, only occasionally stopping to yell at something. As far as she could tell, he could keep his mind and his rabbits under control.
Byron wasn't worried at all. Well, he was a little bit. It was more of his childish jealousy in sharing the AI than anything else. He didn't care nor need to know about their pasts. He just needed to get the job done.
Redemption.
-.-.-.-
Analysis; desperation in current situation calls for extreme actions. Reasoning: four to one odds: Storm Andromeda's backup taken into account, Basilisk Centauri's damage also taken into account.
Probability of extra pilots increasing odds of survival: small to reasonable. Reasoning: EMP could disable me and in turn Byron should such a tactic be employed by hostiles. Chances of such tactic: high. Reasoning: no warning of extra pilots, and the same tactic worked well last time.
Should no EMP be deployed by hostiles: Jaeger will be ambidextrous – doesn't really help. Reaction times, strategy, and employment of said qualities: likely better.
Overall analysis: we are so very very screwed.
-.-.-.-
The three Rangers (if they could still be called that since they weren't even part of the PPDC) all felt the Drift-kick. That first momentary loss of sensation and motor control when the minds meld.
Everyone's pasts raced through their singular consciousness akin to the "life flashing before my eyes right before I die", preschool years, fun and oblivious. School years, recognising the system of life. The Kaiju attacks throughout it all.
Then, their pasts began to differ. Clarisse went straight into the military, focusing to do whatever it took to defend her home from the Kaiju, namely through being in a Jaeger. Veronica was a bit more flighty, skimming through a million job interviews, avoiding watching TV for the horrors it contained… it was then that she lost everything she knew and loved to the Kaiju. A survival story akin to Mako Mori's, but so much different. Byron's years were clouded… deliberately held back. Small glimpses of crime, biker thug life, drug dealings… sent to military prison to see if they could work the kinks out of him. Didn't work so much. Spent almost the rest of the entire Kaiju War in that prison. And when he was finally out, he called the suicide hotline; "Find me some Jaeger-Drift-Scientist or whatever that needs a live subject."
I've done things I'm not proud of.
=Indeed=
The girls gasped at the new voice in their heads. One they had never heard before. "AI?" Veronica asked, staring wide-eyed at Byron, who nodded resignedly.
And then, their most recent memories flashed past in the blink of an eye. The designing and building of the Valkyrie Chaos and Storm Andromeda. A month or two spent designing the Basilisk Centauri, and the next four and a half years building it. Byron's brain operations to twine him with the AI. Clarisse and Veronica being sorted out as perfectly Drift compatible pilots.
Then, the war.
"Ah, now we're ready," Byron rumbled. Veronica could have sworn she heard a slight tone of happiness in his voice.
=You did=
Um… Hello? Veronica thought back. She had forgotten that this would be a four-mind Drift, rather than just three.
-So now what?- Clarisse asked, -Are we gonna drop or what?-
Now we get out there and destroy those assholes.
=Oh goody=
Since when did AI's get so sarcastic?
Since he's-
=I thought I was female=
Fine then. Since "SHE'S" been stuck in my head for five or so years.
-If you two would just stop arguing…- the other three could literally feel Clarisse's facepalm. Professionalism just drifts away in the Drift, doesn't it?
Their arguing/thinking/whatever the hell they wanted to call it was interrupted by Tendo's warning back at LOCCENT. "Hey, guys!" he shouted, trying to be heard, "Hostiles inbound and within range of engagement in about ten minutes! We're going to be deploying the shoulder-blades on the Basilisk. Andromeda is already deployed on top that hill you used as a diving board earlier. Good hunting, Rangers, and remember not to die on us."
"Redemtion," the pilots growled in response, the overwhelming feeling coming straight from Byron. The lights flared along the trim of the Basilisk Centauri as it prepared itself for the war that was never meant to be.
-.-.-.-
A lizard-like hiss came from the smooth, slick face of the being. It looked so reptilian yet so different. –What is going on up there?– It asked it's companion.
–It is almost time– It responded, looking back down to the murky depths. The bioluminescent glow of many creatures, big, small, and gigantic, covered their claimed seabed. A sudden burst of underwater lightning was all the pair needed to confirm their suspicions.
–Oh yes, the waiting is over– The second said, pushing the first towards one of the smaller, faster beasts. –Alert the others, we strike in four tekra–
It didn't wait for an answer. It merely swam downwards, trailing a clawed digit along the lines of biotechnology that covered every available nearby surface, a soft pulsing orange glow following every touch.
-.-.-.-