Jazmine didn't start right away. That would have been ridiculously obvious. Chuck needed to think that she was just going to lie down and take whatever he threw at her, then she'd go to work.
This is so immature, a voice at the back of her mind told her. It's pathetic. She agreed. It was pathetic. Especially in the big scheme of things. What had happened to not bothering about whether or not she liked a guy, because at the end of the day the world was at war and that was what needed her attention, not Chuck Hansen? Well, that still applied. Nothing had changed there, except that Chuck Hansen had now demanded her attention, and until she'd captivated his just as forcefully, she wouldn't be satisfied.
It was that irritatingly competitive side of her that was responsible. She sometimes had doubts about whether or not she actually did have feelings for Chuck, and whether it wasn't just her competitive nature coming out to play to try and make him jealous because she knew that that was what he had been doing to her, and she just wanted to prove that she could make him jealous if she wanted to. It made everything so much more confusing than it already was.
Back in her room, Jazmine was going through her stash of photos, the ones she couldn't fit on the wall. She'd gone through them so many times that she was surprised that the images weren't burned permanently onto her retinas. Sat in her room, on her own in the silence, without Chuck and Natalya flaunting their…whatever it was they were doing, she was able to think clearly. Perhaps playing his game wasn't such a good idea. She was twenty-one years old, and still acting like a petulant school girl. She was a Ranger, for god sakes. Rangers didn't play immature games with boys they had crushes on. They fought Kaiju and saved the world. Crushes didn't get a look in.
She picked up what had once been her favourite photograph. It was of her and Raleigh. It had been taken on Raleigh's 19th birthday, and neither of them had realised the photo was being taken. They'd been laughing at something Yancy had said, some stupid knock knock joke, and someone, she couldn't quite remember who, had snapped this photograph of them. They looked happy, that was what she'd liked about it. They didn't look like two kids who had lost their parents and were now trying to make their way through life in the midst of an alien warzone, they just looked like kids who were laughing at a joke their big brother had told them. They looked happy and uncomplicated and like simple kids. After Raleigh had left, she'd considered ripping up every photo that she had of him, to get rid of any evidence that he'd ever existed, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it.
There was a knock on her door. Jazmine shoved the photos back in her drawer before getting up and pulling it open. She found Hannah on the other side. It might have just been her, but she thought Hannah looked a little uncomfortable.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Marshall Pentecost sent me. He wants to talk to you."
"What about?"
"He didn't say."
Jazmine shrugged. It wasn't unusual for the Marshall to communicate with his Rangers from time to time. Perhaps he wanted to berate her for her last performance with the Drift, or to demote her from piloting Gipsy Danger. Though the idea pained her, she couldn't exactly blame him.
"Miss Becket." The Marshall nodded his head in acknowledgement and gestured for her to sit down.
"Marshall." Jazmine replied with a curt nod.
"How are you?"
"I'm good, thank you for asking."
He gave her a small smile before falling into silence. Jazmine felt a stab of nerves, what was it that he was about to say to her? She could tell from his demeanour that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good.
"You're aware of the Mark-3 restoration programme, Miss Becket?" What sort of a question was that? Of course she was aware. Gipsy Danger was the focal point of the Mark-3 restoration programme.
"I am, yes."
"And you're aware that your brother was a Mark-3 pilot?" Jazmine stiffened. Where exactly was the Marshall going with this?
"Yes…"
"We have a plan, Miss Becket. A plan to hit the breach with a thermonuclear bomb, but we need Gipsy Danger to do it, and in order for Gipsy Danger to function, we need someone who can pilot her."
"You're getting rid of me." It wasn't a question.
"No, I'm not getting rid of you, Jazmine. I'm going to look for your brother. I haven't made this decision lightly. We need Gipsy, we can't afford to wait for you," Jazmine knew that was his way of telling her that, although she was good, she wasn't quite good enough. Not as good as her brother, anyway. "I've had a list of candidates drawn up to find a co-pilot for Raleigh. You and your co-pilot are both on that list. If you can work with your brother, if you can prove yourself Drift compatible with him, then you'll be piloting Gipsy Danger as was originally planned."
"You're bringing Raleigh in?" She said it quietly, because she knew better than to lose her temper with the Marshall. She could feel it stirring, though, that special kind of anger and hatred that she held especially for her brother. She wanted to scream at the Marshall, to rage at him until he changed his mind. She wanted to tear his office apart, to rip it to pieces with her bare hands to prove her worth.
"If I can find him, yes."
"He's almost certainly dead, you know that, right?" There was no need to mention the letter.
"For all our sakes, I really hope not."
She wasn't good enough, that's what this was about. She just wasn't good enough. She wasn't a good enough Ranger, and she certainly wasn't a good enough pilot.
Jazmine Becket, sister of Raleigh and Yancy Becket. That's all she'd ever be remembered for, if she was remembered at all.
The thought made her blood boil.
"Jazmine?"
"Go away, Chuck." If she had to look at his face for even a second she knew that she would not be able to keep the lid on her increasing fury.
"C'mon, I just want to talk to you." He didn't sound like he was mocking her, and that only made her angrier.
"I said, GO AWAY!" Her feelings were not at all complicated in that moment. She didn't care about Chuck or Natalya or her plans to make Chuck jealous. None of that mattered anymore. How could it have ever mattered in the first place?
"Hey," he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to a stop. It was a move he'd come to very much regret. Without thinking about what she was doing, she pulled her arm out of his grasp and shoved him very hard in the chest. The last time she'd done that, he hadn't moved an inch. This time he staggered back several steps, his expression a mask of pure shock.
"I told you to go away. I have nothing to say to you."
"Is this about Nat?"
Jazmine stared at him blankly for a few seconds. "Nat-? Natalya? Is this to do wi-? NO IT'S NOT TO DO WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND, YOU ABSOLUTE DICK!"
"Your brother, then?"
Jazmine froze. "How do you know about that?"
"I've known for a while now." Chuck admitted. He wasn't grinning or smirking or pulling any of his usual facial expressions. In fact, he looked a little scared.
"Oh, you've known for a while now. And it never occurred to you to tell me?"
"I couldn't tell you! We were sworn to secrecy!"
"We? We? Who else knows?"
Chuck wanted to slap himself. He'd really dropped himself in it. He should have left it alone, walked away when she'd told him to. "You know, I should really go. Max needs walking, you know how it is…"
"WHO ELSE KNOWS, CHUCK?"
"Jesus Christ, all of us, ok? All the pilots."
"Why am I the last to know? He's my fucking brother!" She was livid. Livid. How dare they!? How fucking dare they decide to go looking for her waste-of-space brother and tell the other pilots before telling her? She felt betrayed. By all of them, every single one. Hannah, her friend and co-pilot, the Marshall, even Chuck. Had he known about this the day she'd got that letter? Had he sat there with her on that platform knowing full well what the Marshall had planned? The idea made her want to rip him in half.
"Look, Jazmine," Chuck stepped forward again. Whatever he was going to say, she never found out. She didn't want to find out. She didn't want to listen to any more of his lies. She snapped. Her hand acted of its own accord; one minute it was clenched at her side, the next it was colliding with Chuck's jaw. He let out an angry cry of pain, his hands clutching where her fist had made contact with his face. "That bloody hurt!"
"It was supposed to. Now, stay the fuck away from me."
