A head splittingly loud alarm suddenly explodes into life. I have no clue where it's coming from, but I immediately know what it means. General Mathews explained its significance the day we met Thurian. I've heard it too many times.

This is a Kaiju alert, and we are under attack.

I release my cramped muscles and uncurl myself from the position I've been lying in since I tore apart Lizzys room, before standing up, throwing on my jacket and leaving my room. I stand at attention outside my door, as per the protocol, wiping my sore eyes and swallowing the massive lump in my throat.

Out here the alarm is even louder. So loud I can feel it reverberating in my chest as I slump against the doorway. I don't put my hands over my ears, like I can see some people doing; just let the sound wash over me. Across from me stands Becket, looking far more alert and ready for whatever the announcement tells us to do next than I feel. He's wearing a t-shirt the colour of red wine, and his exposed arms have very symmetrical, almost artificial looking scars running in sooth lines down them. When I look back up to his face he's looking at me. I quickly shift my gaze over to Lizzy, before resigning to looking at the floor. Is there anyone here I can share a glance with without being uncomfortable?

The alarm turns into one long tone and then the voice of the General comes over the loudspeaker.

'This is a code blue, I repeat, this is a code blue. All base to alert level six. Category 4 incoming.' He booms out. Mechanics, engineers and officers begin to move through our hallway, and we wait to see if any of us cadets need to do anything. Code blue means that a Kaiju has just come out from the Breech, and a Jaeger will be sent to meet it and destroy it. Now the General calls the name of the Jaeger for the pilots that need to report to the loading bay.

'Crimson Typhoon report to load.' He says. He should be finished, but he keeps talking. 'Also, Thurian, report to load. E. Stohl and E. Carroll report to pilot. I repeat. Crimson Typhoon and Thurian report to load. E. Stohl and E. Carroll report to pilot. Scientists please report to command level. All inactive staff: move to appropriate safe zones effective immediately. Over and out.' He says. The loudspeaker turns off with a crackle, and the alarms resume, but not as loudly this time.

Shit. We're up. Shit. No time to think. No time to process. I bite down on my lip and make myself focus. I've known what to do for years. Now it's time to do it.

I pull my jacket off and chuck it into my room, before throwing the door shut. I start towards the lifts. When Lizzy steps past me I don't say anything, just follow her. We take the lift down with the three Crimson Typhoon pilots and run down the stairs. It seems to take forever and yet I'm there before I know it. Crimson Typhoon split off from us and disappear into their loading bay. Lizzy and I keep running.

It's a massive rush to get our gear on in the prep area, but every move I make is quick and efficient. I've done this a thousand times before; a thousand runs to the loading area, a thousand simulated attacks and a thousand dress rehearsals of a thousand other things. I don't wonder about why Lizzy and I have to go in with Crimson Typhoon, because I know they'll tell us. I'm so certain of what I'm doing that I need to make sure I'm still alert and focused.

Soon I have my drive suit on; it doesn't fit properly, but then again it wasn't made for me. None of my suits ever were, actually. As I'm adjusting it as much as I can to fit Lizzy taps my shoulder.

'Ellie, I-'

'Not now. We'll sort it out later, but you know that we can't afford to do that now. Just stay focused.' I remind her. When I turn around I notice how red her eyes are. I flex my injured hand and put my helmet on; all the while reminding myself that I cannot under any circumstances let my emotions cloud my judgement. 'Let's go. The launch is in 120, we don't want to be late.'

We clamber down into Thurian's cockpit, locking our boots into the rig and strapping ourselves in. Lizzy takes the left side and I take the right. I take a moment to collect myself again before calling in to Command.

'Check to Command, this is Thurian, over.' I begin. Lizzy beside me is furiously working the start-up procedure, her hands flying all over the holographic screen in front of us.

'Check to Thurian, this is Command, reading you loud and clear. Please relay your current status, over.' The voice comes over our intercom too loud. I quickly adjust the volume and Lizzy signals that she's done.

'Roger Command. We're all strapped in and start-up is complete. All systems at full capacity, fuel cells at 100 percent and coms are clear, over.'

'Excellent.' Says someone else. That's unusual. 'Thurian this is General Mathews. Your brief for this evening is simple. The kaiju, codename Otachi, currently poses no major threat, in your case we are treating this as a test run. You are not to engage under any circumstances. Your job is to sit and watch. Once Otachi is dealt with you'll have some room for getting a feel for how your Jaeger moves, then it'll be straight home, over.'

'Understood sir. Do not engage, and await your permission to begin trial run once Otachi is good and dead, over.'

'Alright, I'm handing you back over to command to begin the Drift. Good luck Thurian.

'Thank you sir.'

'Command to Thurian, begging neural handshake on your mark. Over.'

I look to Lizzy to see if she's ready. We do not want to get caught in the drift, which means absolute focus. I'm relieved to see that Lizzy is giving me the same assessment. We nod and turn back to our displays.

'Roger that Command, we are ready to initiate Drift sequence. Begin neural handshake at your discretion.' I shift in my suit and close my eyes, letting the rig support my weight. My mind doesn't go blank, but it moves into a strange, different kind of focus. Not concentrating on anything, instead letting every thought pass by. This is my first Drift and I do not want to get stuck.

It starts. There are flashes - memories. Both mine and Lizzys, some of which we share. They start of as neutral feelings; vague impressions. A blue basketball bouncing onto the road. One of Lizzys old drawings. A Jet Ski churning up the water just off St. Kilda beach. Then there's more significance. The day my brothers were born, our favourite tree getting one of its best branches chopped off, a boy who gave Lizzy a flower after she sang at assembly in grade two.

And then they escalate into their final stage, until the memories are screaming at us, demanding our attention. The day I broke my arm, Lizzys parents separating, our graduation as pilots. A kaiju shelter. My thoughts freeze. I smell the rot and gore for an instant, and fall out of sync. I get back into the stream before we get caught, but it's a warning. When we found each other after the Melbourne massacre, Lizzy screaming into a pillow. It ends with a shudder and we're pulled back into reality. I shake my head to clear the images.

'Sorry.' I say to Lizzy. She knows I fell out of sync.

'Not your fault.' She says quickly. 'Let's get this started.'

I nod and open the intercom. 'Command, this is Thurian reporting a successful Drift sequence. Requesting Drop and ignition.'

'Confirmed Thurian, Drift successful. Neural Handshake maintaining a strong hold. Nice work. Drop commencing at your call.' Lizzy and I share a smile as we brace for the Drop; where the cockpit falls way down on to the body of Thurian, and we are given total control. This is it. The day we've been waiting for. I call it.

'Initiate Drop on my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark.'