Author's Note: This update comes to you a wee bit early, since I anticipate getting slammed with work through the weekend, and had a lull today before the storm! As a reminder, when Herc and Chuck are drifting, POV may get a little muddled and shift back and forth between them, because that's how I imagine the drift feels.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Opening Maneuvers
Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…
June 1, 2020…
"You think this is goodbye?" Danny Oliver wondered late that night.
Chuck and Evie had finally managed a standard-form, boy-girl tumble without either of them losing their shit a few weeks before, but tonight the three of them got up the nerve to try that three-way experiment. It… had gone a lot better than Chuck anticipated.
"No way to know," he said, nudging the older bloke aside to get his proper share of Evie's bed. "Assuming none of us fucks up test maneuvers, we'll start team simulations. Or get reassigned to different Domes depending who's short. How's your Japanese?"
"Improving, thanks to her," said Danny, petting the half-asleep Evie. "We're both working on our Korean too, since we may end up in a Shatterdome with Nova Hyperion or Katana Eagle."
"Japanese and Korean?" Chuck had been working on Mandarin for four years and still had to do a fair amount of pantomiming. He couldn't imagine keeping two languages straight at the same time.
But Danny shrugged. "Grammar's easy, especially when the rules are alike. French and German was hard."
That was not something Chuck had expected out of Danny Oliver, but now that he thought about it, another reason he and the older boy hadn't sat many satellite classes together was Danny'd been taking a bunch of non-tech electives. "I never knew 'till now you were a cunning linguist."
"Oh, really, mate, I've never heard that one before - "
" – we're not mates!" they finished in a hissed chorus. Danny had to bury his face in his knees to muffle his snickers so he didn't wake Evie.
"We're frenemies with benefits," Danny concluded, and this time they did wake Evie up with their laughing.
"Shuddup, will you?" she mumbled.
Chuck rolled his eyes. "She had two blokes tonight and both of us got her off. What's she complaining about?"
Anchorage, Alaska…
June 1, 2020…
Herc spent the last night in Alaska on the mainland at a pub near the Shatterdome with the other pilots and J-Tech crew. The hale and hearty ones, anyway.
He wished Duc Jessop hadn't already left for Whistler, but sadly supposed his friend wouldn't be up to it anyway. Stacker Pentecost didn't come either, and a lot of the crew who did would probably have refused if Pentecost had been there. So that made it just Herc, Caitlin, and Sergio from the old crowd, with Herc the one remaining active pilot from that old "class" of 2015.
Chin up, Hercules. It's not the end of the world. Here were two more sets: Ilisapie Flint and Zeke Amarok with their Mark-3, Chrome Brutus, and Juliette and Nathan Girard with their Mark-4, Cascade Victor. If all went well, Herc and his boy would pilot the Mark-5. And maybe Stacker and the others were wrong. Maybe the political climate would shift again after a few more good fights like the one against Cerastes last month, and they would end up with more Mark-5's.
"We've still got good public opinion in our favor," Jasper Schoenfeld was saying. "The Buenakai got busted trying to break into the cleanup vault where they were dissecting Cerastes the other night."
"I hadn't heard about that," said Herc, gesturing to the bartender for another beer. "What're they trying to do, put the things back together?"
Tendo Choi snorted. "Nah, they put pieces under glass on altars in their temples and slobber over them." He smirked. "A mob chased them out of the cleanup zone in Vancouver last year. They showed up in their robes with their incense. Then they sued to have the site declared a sacred burial ground under the Indigenous Heritage Protection Act."
"There is nothing indigenous about the Buenakai," Ilisapie growled.
"Maybe next time you have an engagement in Los Angeles, someone can accidentally knock their temple over," suggested Tendo.
"Don't give them ideas!" exclaimed Jasper Schoenfeld, but he was grinning.
Herc affected innocence. "Sorry, Marshals, no idea how that happened!" They all chortled. "Definitely don't tell Bruce and Trevin. They'd take it as a challenge."
Giggling, Caitlin already had her phone out - then her face changed. "What?" asked Ilisapie.
Sergio looked over her shoulder and winced, then put his arm around her. "Cait, what?" Jasper demanded.
It was Sergio who answered. "Hayase Shindo."
It was all the answer they needed. "Damn," Tendo muttered, shutting his eyes. Juliette turned to the bartender, but the bloke was on the ball, already bringing refills around.
"We knew it was coming," Caitlin said roughly after a long swallow.
The others nodded, hanging onto what scant shreds of comfort they could find in it. They were still digesting it when the TVs in the bar began running the breaking news story of the former Ranger's death. "I can turn those off," the bartender offered. Sergio nodded, mumbling thanks.
The rest of the bar patrons exchanged looks, awkwardly pondering the Jaeger pilots and probably debating whether they should offer condolences (nobody complained about the TVs going silent.)
No good would've come from Hayase lingering on. It'd been over a year since Jiro died, to say nothing of the agony the radiation exposure had put them both through. Finally, she was out of her pain. But that's another one gone. How long until the next? Best case scenario, it'd be Duc Jessop. Worst case... it would be someone else they weren't expecting.
Herc didn't know how long Tendo Choi had known the Tidal Dragon pilots, or maybe he hadn't. It might just be memory that was hitting the former Gipsy Danger crew so hard. Herc raised his pint to the others. "Here's to absent friends."
Along with the Rangers and crew at the pub, he noticed that every civilian in earshot raised their glasses as well.
The sun was already up in the wee hours when they headed back to Shatterdome and Academy, but Tendo surprised Herc by coming after him. "Hey... Herc, can I ask a favor?"
"Of course," he said, turning around curiously.
Tendo held up a small cardboard box. "I, uh... you and Chuck will be back in Australia... when you get there, when you next see Devi and Susanti... would you give this to them?"
No need to ask what was inside. Tendo had been distributing little mementos from Team Gipsy to the personnel all over the bases. He'd sent the Tunaris and Team Hydra Corinthian home from Yancy's funeral with boxes too.
Herc made himself smile. "No problem, mate. I'll get it to them as soon as we're there."
"And..." Tendo's smile was a little shaky, and they both focused their attention on what he pulled from his pocket. "For you."
It was a little Lucky Seven. Not one of the regular action figures, even smaller, from some model set that Team Gipsy's crew had toted around. It looked like the one of Coyote Tango that Stacker'd been holding when Herc got the real story of Raleigh's departure from him. So that's what cracked him. I don't bloody blame him. How'd we end up losing so many kids?
Not really, if he thought about it objectively... Jiro and Hayase Shindo and Jing and Min Li had been close to Herc's age, Miguel and Maria Blanco had been in their thirties, and Yan-Jie and Fang the same age as the twins and the D'onofrios. Even Yancy Becket hadn't been all that young.
Well, Herc wasn't in the mood to be objective. They were all too young to die. To say nothing of Chuck... "What about you?" he croaked desperately. "You staying in Anchorage or off to another Shatterdome?"
"For now, I'll stay put," said Tendo, looking relieved to change the subject. "I'll step in wherever they need LOCCENT techs. It may mean moving. Cascade and Chrome are fully staffed, but it depends on who shuffles where."
Herc shrugged. "Well, whether it's Chuck and me or another team, Striker'll need a LOCCENT staff soon enough."
Tendo grinned, then feigned alarm. "Dunno, 'mate,' I hear everything in Australia's trying to eat you! Kaiju are bad enough!"
"It's all true. All of it," Herc deadpanned. They both laughed, and went on their way feeling a little less beaten down.
Chuck wondered at his own melancholy and anxiety on the flight back across the Pacific. He couldn't figure any reason to feel this way. He was getting everything he'd wanted - a chance to pilot a Jaeger, the newest and best. He'd gotten epically laid last night.
It could be the things the media were saying, calling him a child soldier and his potential deployment a crime. But the brass were standing by him. Even his old man wasn't speaking against it anymore.
He would see Max again, and Herc hadn't made any more noise about rehoming Max either. Surely Max wouldn't have forgotten Chuck in just six months.
And he'd be back with Team Vulcan, not just as one of the Shatterdome kids anymore. A fellow Ranger - if he didn't fuck it up. Or as long as his old man didn't fuck it up.
Devi, Susanti, and Indra's emails had contained nothing but praise and encouragement. Sure, they'd been shocked back in December, but he thought that had been because Herc had thrown such a fit. They were in Brisbane now while Vulcan was getting repaired, visiting with their family. They'd be the first team that Striker Eureka trained with once Chuck and his old man were cleared for launch.
If they were cleared for launch, as Herc would be the first to remind him.
Chuck had no reason to feel nervous about seeing the Hassans again.
He could admit some pangs of dismay saying goodbye to Xichi and Lo Hin, who were off to Hong Kong, and Evie and Danny, since they'd be staying in Anchorage working with Tacit Ronin. They were his classmates, more or less his contemporaries, and it did feel a bit weird to split up before the last term was over. Nothing wrong with admitting that.
He definitely wasn't in a mood because he'd miss Danny Oliver or Evie Nakano, however entertaining (and instructive) their extracurricular "studies" had been. Definitely not that.
"Frenemies with benefits." He stifled a laugh remembering that, and quickly checked to make sure Herc was asleep.
PPDC Jaeger Assembly Facility, Brisbane, Australia...
June 3, 2020…
They'd brought Max with them. Chuck wasn't expecting that, and really hoped nobody noticed the way his face reacted against his will. Oh shit, get a grip, Hansen, get a bloody grip...
But Max saw him and went mad, yanking on his leash and nearly pulling Susanti off her feet. Chuck disguised his emotions by breaking into a run; if he was going to blow PPDC officer decorum, he might as well seem overenthusiastic instead of choked up. To his relief, all he could hear from the witnesses were cheers and applause as he focused on wrestling Max to the ground and rubbing him within an inch of its life and getting his face slobbered on.
"And he was worried Max might not remember him," he heard Herc saying.
Thanks, old man, he thought, but couldn't really keep a cross mood. "You been behaving, Handsome? Well, have you?"
"Apart from scratching at the door in Lucky's old bay, he's been an angel," Devi informed him. "On your feet, junior officer! Gimme a hug!"
Chuck jumped up and saluted them first. "Ohh, it is a proper officer and gentleman! How long 'till he ranks us?" Suze wondered, saluting him back, and shoving her sister for her turn. Her embrace was no less tight, and Chuck felt stupid all over again for his drunken conclusion six months ago that Susanti disliked him. The Hassans were among the few people he could really tell himself didn't just put up with him for his dad's sake. Indra tugged Suze away so he could get a turn hugging Chuck next.
But of course, Chuck's old man had to go ruin the moment. Rising from giving Max a scratch of his own, Herc stepped closer to the Hassans and held out a box. "Before we all get swamped... Tendo Choi asked me to give you this. It's... from Team Gipsy."
All three of them froze, and Chuck glared. Really? Did you have to do it right this bloody second? He couldn't have waited until later rather than wreck Chuck's homecoming?
But there was nothing for it now, so he forced an expression of (he hoped) polite sympathy as Indra took the box and opened it. There were several items inside from the look of it, maybe some books, but Chuck's frustration was replaced by shock at the way Devi's face crumbled as she and Suze drew out two little action figures: Vulcan Specter and Gipsy Danger.
"From their table map in the Shatterdome. Everybody got their own mech, but Tendo thought you should have Gipsy. You meant a lot to them."
The sisters stared at their little sister Jaeger, now in their joined hands. Devi shut her eyes and whispered, "We never did get to ride together."
Indra shifted the box into one hand so he could try and get an arm around them both. Herc looked awkwardly at the ground. "Thanks," Suze said roughly, then buried her face in Devi's shoulder.
Chuck just gave up and walked away. The happy part of the reunion was well over.
Over the next day, Chuck didn't talk to his old man unless he had to while they were getting checked into their shared quarters. The one bright spot was that he could indeed keep Max with him. "He's getting to be the Sydney mascot," Kyrra Taior told them. "Everyone argues over who gets to take him for walks."
"Has Striker got a mascot yet? Or a logo?" Chuck asked.
She grinned, leaning against the corridor wall. "Nope. Ready to meet him?"
It was very hard not to look at his dad or grin like an idiot. Chuck nodded.
Devi and Susanti joined them for the walk down to the huge Jaeger Bay, but didn't go through the final set of doors. "It's tradition," Devi told them. "A Jaeger's own pilots meet him first."
Herc began, "Well, technically, we're not yet - "
" - shut up, Hercules." Susanti pointed imperiously at the doors. "Don't keep your dragon waiting."
Kyrra did go with them, and in the bay, they were met by the Brisbane engineers and Priya Katwal, one of the senior J-Techs from Kodiak Island. But nobody bothered with introductions, which was a good thing, because Chuck couldn't take his eyes off the spectacular figure dominating the assembly bay.
"Behold the Mark-5," said Kyrra. "Striker Eureka."
Chuck could easily have recited every one of Striker's specs from memory. He and Herc had been operating Striker in the simulator almost exclusively for over a month.
XIG Supercell Chamber energy core, fully digital Arbiter Tac-Conn 12 operating system. Seventy-six meters tall, 1,850 tons. Solid iron hull armor, T-16 Angel Wing shoulder blades, retractable Assault Mount 3.25 titanium sling blades and 4.211 solid iron brass knuckles. WMB2x90 AKM Chest Launch, eighteen-round capacity loaded with K-Stunner rockets. Independent liquid neural hydraulic lines for every limb and joint. Solid iron standing shields for major joints and weapons.
He was even more magnificent in person. Not as tall as some of the older models, but with a well-armored upper torso and flexible legs that would give incredible speed on foot for pursuit on land. In close quarters, his joint shields would protect him from strikes to the knees or elbows like the one that had put Vulcan Specter in the shop.
"Care for a tour?" asked Dr. Katwal. Chuck just nodded.
They walked all the way, eschewing the lifts up each level in favor of the stairs, and took the scenic route back and forth across the catwalks, just to look, to take in every detail from every side they could see.
His name was already engraved on his left chest plate:
Striker Eureka
Commonwealth of Australia
Launched:
The launch date was still blank. No logo had been added yet either. Chuck mentally projected that image of Max with the bomb in his mouth and smiled to himself. It'd be perfect. They'd have to ask Sarla... somehow, he doubted she'd object.
Their non-instrument peripheral vision was obscured by the high shoulder armor on either side of the conn-pod, which drove them mad in simulations, but looking at Striker in person, Chuck could see the reasoning. It would be damn hard for a kaiju to get its claws, jaws, or a stinger-barb around the pod the way some of them had struck previous mechs, so long as the pilots were capable of doing something in their own defense. The attacks that had taken out Diablo Intercept, Horizon Brave, and Gipsy Danger wouldn't work on Striker Eureka.
We'll have to overcorrect for recon maneuvers. He can turn almost 360 degrees at the waist. He's also one of the only mechs who can out-and-out a complete pile-drive like Chrome Brutus or the light-footed sprint like Shaolin Rogue, but he could go in for a tackle like a rugby player.
Inside the conn-pod didn't look like he expected. It was very different from the simulator lab, more sophisticated looking. "Separately-powered emergency control and comm panels in arm's reach of each rig," said Priya proudly. "Emergency medikits and monitors on both sides, secondary oxygen tanks underneath. Just pull the mask to activate. Auto-jettison escape pod rigs with double-oxygen processors in the lowest part of the skull plating. Emergency supply and escape hatch controls operate on hand-crank and pressure releases even if all power is lost."
Herc was examining the right-hand motion rig, noting that it was older than the one on the left. "This is actually from Lucky Seven," he mused.
"Something borrowed, something blue. It's just the rig skeleton; the hydraulic lines and sensors have been completely replaced so they're identical to the left side, but it is your old rig. It's tradition," Priya explained to Chuck. "Every new pod has something from a Jaeger previously stationed at that Shatterdome."
Even the ones that crashed? Chuck managed not to ask that out loud.
"While Vulcan's having his knee replacement surgery, we've been appointed your trainers," Devi informed Herc and Chuck in the mess hall that night.
Chuck was pleased, but Herc snorted into his drink. "Can't imagine Ketteridge thought of that."
"He didn't. Technically, you two are still under the Academy's command until you log all your hours and get approved as Ranger Ready. So it was Gagnon and Pentecost's call." Susanti smirked. "Ketteridge made no comments."
"Well, I've got a comment. I seem to remember three years ago, I was training you," Herc declared. Half the table laughed, the other half scoffed. Chuck was startled, then bitterly observed that nobody else seemed to be. Apparently, Herc Hansen would act the fool to cheer up anyone who wasn't his son.
Even taking their first drift in Striker the next day didn't help to see that Devi and Herc had been talking outside after Chuck had gone to sleep.
"Did you see Raleigh before he left?" Devi asked Herc, gazing out at the lights of Brisbane.
"Not after Yancy's funeral. Everything happened pretty fast after that." She'd looked away, scowling, and Herc had guessed what was on her mind. "Dev... there was more to it than anyone realized."
That got her attention. "How do you know?"
He lowered his voice. "I've known Stacker Pentecost a long time. He didn't do it to be cruel. He didn't want to do it at all."
She looked down at the little Gipsy figurine in her hand, stroking it absently with her thumb. Herc wanted to touch her, make her feel better. But he stayed where he was. "What was the alternative to dismissal?"
Stacker'd sworn Herc to secrecy. Herc understood the reason... but Stacker had already brought the Hassans in on one critical piece of information that most Rangers didn't know. Carefully, Herc reminded her. "Remember when he and I called? Before the funeral?" Devi nodded. "You and Suze said him as my partner would be wrong - you were right," he added quickly. "But the problem was still there: keeping the brass from making him a sideshow."
She considered that, pulling her jacket tighter in the brisk air. They'd gone from winter ending in Alaska to winter starting in Australia. Still, at least it wasn't as cold as the Icebox. Nowhere was as cold as the Icebox.
"We wondered... why the press didn't go mad over this."
"The press wasn't told the reason for the discharge. They assume it was medical, like Duc Jessop. And if the brass wants to prevent that scandal, they'll leave Raleigh alone."
In the glow of base lights and city lights, Herc could see the glitter of tears on her face, but pretended he didn't notice. "I don't like it. Him alone out there."
"It's what he wanted. You said it yourself to me: he deserves his freedom." He wanted to tell her Stacker knew Raleigh was safe, but he didn't. Stacker had done what he'd done so the Corps' blame would be drawn on himself rather than Raleigh. He didn't tell her that either. This would have to be enough; Stacker had given his implied consent to dropping enough hints to the Hassans to keep them from taking it into their head to search for him.
Devi was crying. He'd never seen her cry until today. After stewing over it for a few more minutes, he cautiously put a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with hers, and finally turned around and leaned into his chest. He patted her back, but didn't hold her tighter... even though he wanted to. "I'm sorry, Dev. I know what they meant to you. They deserved better than for it to end like that."
Breathing heavily, she stepped away and wiped her face. "I know, every Ranger we've ever lost did, it's just... damn it. Yancy was... he was always a bit older than he seemed. Raleigh... he's a kid, Herc. He's still just a kid!"
"I know what you mean about kids, love. Believe me, I know."
Chuck scowled and focused rigidly on the HUD as the drift surged with Herc's embarrassed dismay. You're full of shit, old man - no. We've got a job to do. They refocused on all the cognitive tests and the of the Jaeger's systems, one by one, and Chuck kept himself focused on the knowledge that Striker was his Jaeger, waiting for the nameplate above the motion rig to be filled in with his name.
If he met all the benchmarks.
Suspecting that thought had come from the right side of the conn-pod, he shot back, If my old man doesn't screw us up. Hearing/feeling Herc's mental sigh, he rolled his eyes. His dad was a fine one to sigh when he'd been pining for Raleigh bloody Becket, letting Devi cry on his shoulder and hoping she'd let him -
The drift flashed with Chuck's memory of Danny and Evie. HEY!
Mind your own...bloody...business and get your eye on the bloody ball, Candidate, his old man's mental voice snarled at him.
Well, fuck you, sir, Chuck shot back. But he stayed in alignment and slid Striker's systems into the next phase of testing. Despite the thrill of actually being in a Jaeger, his own Jaeger, the calibration maneuvers were dead boring. Even so, they stayed in alignment, and if LOCCENT could detect the acrimony in the two pilots' brain waves, nobody mentioned it.
After morning drills in the Assembly Building Kwoon, the Hassans put the Hansens through their paces while they waited for the J-Techs to call them in for calibrations of Striker Eureka's conn-pod. "Come on. Show us what they're teaching at Academy these days. Chuck, you first," Suze ordered. "Attack."
Chuck was gleeful to get to spare with her again and sense she wasn't holding back. Eight months ago, all the "grown-up" Rangers had been so cautious about sparring with the "kids," even Chuck who was easily taller than either Hassan and had nearly a hundred pounds on them. He unleashed every Bushido technique that had been drilled into him by the Fightmasters and the Rangers on duty in Anchorage, but to his frustration, he didn't beat her half as handily as he expected.
In the end, he lost, three hits to four. Dammit! All that training and he still came up short!
He fared even worse against Devi, and found himself wondering if every match he'd ever won against either of them had been deliberately thrown. He did manage to beat Indra - four hits to three - but it did nothing for his mood to see the way Devi and Herc grinned at each other when the old man stepped up for his turn.
They went at it like a dance, all light on their feet like a couple of bloody pixies when Chuck had felt like a lumbering giant troll. And the air between them practically buzzed. Really, Hassan? You can't do any better than a man ten years older?
He almost laughed out loud when Herc tripped himself up and took a hit in the process. Devi could have pressed the attack and ended the match with a volley - but she didn't. So, Herc she'd let win. It was all Chuck could do not to spit.
He couldn't decide whether to be relieved or sorry when Kyrra called Herc first to the drivesuit lab for testing his suit inputs. (Sorry because he really wanted a round and a chance to kick the old man's ass; relieved because it would be damned hard to hide the mood he was in, and that wouldn't look very good in front of the other Rangers.)
Devi glanced at the clock and called after her, "Has Chuck got time to take Max for a walk before you need him?"
"Yeah, it'll be an hour or two."
"Come on. He's used to going out at lunchtime, and he's missed you."
What with her being his superior officer now, Chuck couldn't really refuse... and he didn't really want to. Did you miss me too or just my old man?
He swallowed that and pretended everything was fine. They jogged along the testing grounds and threw Max's Frisbee for him, and Devi demanded he repeat some of the new katas that had been added to the Jaeger Bushido repertoire. That made him feel better. "Fighting you this morning, I figured you knew them all!"
She smirked. "I know you did. I'd be stupid to telegraph what I don't know during a spar." At the look on his face, she laughed. "It's something the Gages taught us: lots of people have more experience than you, more black belts, and more trophies. But when they know they're more experienced, it can be their weakness. Because they're focused on themselves instead of on you, the opponent. You only need to know one way to unbalance or stun if you can slip it past them."
In other words, Chuck had walked right into it, too busy showing off to pay attention to what she and Suze might do. "I want to go again."
"Out here." Devi glanced around and released Max's leash to let him wander nearby. "Slow. Concentrate." She dropped into stance. "Attack."
He tried bando on her first, guessing that she wouldn't know it because the Fightmasters reported that they'd only introduced it during the Mark-4 classes after the Koreans sent more instructors. It was fast and close-quarters, but he slowed it down as ordered. Now he could see how she responded: evasion for a few steps, gauging the style, finding his openings. Seeing that she returned with a judo reap, he tried to block it, but she stopped him.
"No. You're not picking your katas off a menu, Candidate. I'm a kaiju. Do what will work and don't think so much about what's 'right.'" She dropped into a standard forward stance. "Ever seen a kaiju look like this?"
"Not on two legs." He stepped back. "Meathead was... praying mantis plus scorpion." Devi nodded and dropped back into the pose. He imagined a barbed tail whipping behind her and couldn't quite hold back a grin.
"There you are. Attack." She stopped being human in his mind's eye, and he could see her extra limbs. It irked him when she declared a "hit" from an invisible stinger, but each time they went over the blows they'd exchanged, he had to concede she was right.
Tension eased and they got sillier, coming up with more and more bizarre poses to try and mimic the movement of four and six and eight-limbed kaiju or the ones with flippers rather than legs. Some were... more successful than others.
When Chuck hip-checked Devi hard enough to knock her off her feet, he whooped triumph, and she bellowed, "I have NEVER seen a kaiju do THAT!"
"Then why'd they teach us the tango at Academy?" he crowed.
"Hey, that's right! Come on, dance for me!" Chuck groaned loudly, and she snapped her fingers. "Do I have to pull rank on you, Candidate?"
"You're gonna play that for all it's worth, aren't you?"
"Believe it, Hansen, move your feet!"
"I'm not very good," he warned, but obediently started stumbling through the steps they'd all been drilled in along with the Jaeger Bushido. Most of it was meant to be done solo, side-by-side and in mirror image regardless of whether the partners were male or female. In theory, Chuck knew it wasn't that different from martial arts - hell, in some ways, the dance steps were simpler, more repetitive. But he felt like the biggest klutz on earth, while Evie Nakano, Lo Hin Shen, and even Dan Oliver had been the epitome of grace.
Devi took pity on him and let him stop after trying to follow along for a few rounds, and they went back to the Kwoon. To his embarrassment, Suze wanted to see the dances too, but she only made him repeat them a few times before she switched to the Viennese waltz. "The dance part's mostly meant for the drift dial-up," she told him, patient even when he stepped on her feet. "But even the stuff you're worst at can teach you something. It's bloody good for coordination."
She searched out a video on the internet and pulled it up on the main screen. Chuck recognized the four dancers: it was the Tunari brothers and the Tanaka sisters, Echo Saber's pilots. The quartet began with the same steps he and the Hassans had been attempting from the Academy, but gradually got more and more elaborate until it looked like some kind of professional ballet.
Chuck watched the two teams and felt a stab of envy. Not just for the intricate steps and the way they made it look easy, but... how comfortable they all seemed. Switching positions, switching partners and leaders, and all four knew where the others would be, going over and under and around each other without having to look even once. Chuck and his old man knew the forms and the drills, and could spar each other to a standstill. But he doubted either of them could even make Bushido look as effortless as this.
To Chuck's mortification, when he and his old man got back into the conn-pod a few hours later, he discovered that he and the Hassans had had an audience.
Herc was peering around the Kwoon entrance like a movie spy, watching Chuck, Devi, and Suze dancing.
"For god's sake, just go in!" Kyrra exclaimed when she spotted him.
But Herc refused. "If he sees me watching, he'll stop."
Annoyed and embarrassed, Chuck hauled them back to the center of the drift. I'm not some stupid schoolkid, old man. It's part of the drills; I won't stop.
He regretted his impulsive declaration later when he saw Herc waltzing with Devi. But his old man shot him a challenging look, so he just shrugged like it was nothing and remarked to Indra, "At least I know where I got my two left feet from."
June 15, 2020…
After ten days of calibration, Herc and his son were cleared to start powered maneuvers on the test grounds. Herc couldn't deny being nervous, and it got to the point that he and Chuck bounced it back and forth like a Ping-Pong ball in the drift, half-crossly, half-playfully accusing each other of being the source of the nerves they sensed. Like the drift, emotions between them slid back and forth between frustration, anger, hurt, and bitterness, but always settled into something like aligned equilibrium so they could move forward.
Always forward.
Herc was cross (and worried) that unlike Kodiak Island, the testing grounds of Brisbane couldn't be completely isolated from the prying eyes and zoom lenses of the media. Chuck was eager at first, until he saw the latest slew of articles proclaiming his presence in the conn-pod to be a disaster waiting to happen, a travesty of humanity, and an affront to decency. There were petitions being signed, inflamed opinion columns being published, and lawsuits being contemplated, all centered on the insistence that Charles Hansen was simply Too Young To Be A Jaeger Pilot.
Oh, and Hercules Hansen was surely the most miserable excuse for a parent to ever live for consenting to such a thing. Whatever their differing reasons, Herc and Chuck were very much in alignment on their ultimate attitude towards the naysayers and do-gooders: Fuck you very much.
Then Herc got the shock of his life when Sasha and Aleksis Kaidanovsky contacted him. "We know how it came about, after Manila," said Sasha over the vid-comm. While Herc was still debating what to say to that (not bothering to wonder how she knew - the Russians could find out anything), she went on. "Your son has done well in training. He shows great promise."
"Yeah, he does." There was no denying that.
He waited, and she came to her point. "Is this what you want, Hercules?" He just blinked, and Sasha huffed. "We all know the boy wants this. He's young and full of spirit. But what of you?" She folded her arms and considered him over the camera feed.
Aleksis surprised him further by chiming in. "You are good pilot, Herc. One of the best. But none must force you. If they are forcing you, we must make them stop."
To Herc's embarrassment, his throat got very tight. So it wasn't just Stacker and Caitlin and the Hassans who knew. Had word traveled so far in so much detail, or was it just the Russians and their inexplicable, uncanny ability to know everything about everybody? He ought to tell them to butt out and not mention it to anybody, but... it meant too damn much to hear them say this. To know that out there in the Corps were others who gave a damn.
At length, he pulled himself together and took a deep breath. "Thanks," he told them, glad that they wouldn't be put out by the gruffness of his voice. "I appreciate it, but... I've made up my mind. I didn't like... the way it started, but that was before Chuck went through training. He's done everything he needs to do, to qualify as a pilot in his own right. He's ready. I'm ready. We'll do this."
They took him at his word, and he knew he could take them at theirs. "Remember, you're not alone. You will never be."
The next day, he and Chuck walked Striker Eureka out of the assembly bay doors into the Australian sun and listened to cheers on the speakers from LOCCENT. "Gorgeous!" Kyrra crowed. "Now once more with feeling!"
Chuck laughed and asked in the drift, Does that mean we get to make him dance after launch?
Herc grinned in spite of himself. Maybe, kid. Maybe.
"Begin test maneuvers, Striker Eureka. Steady as she goes."
"Acknowledged. Beginning walk-around." Chuck was dying to exercise all the power in their hands, but forced himself to concentrate. One step at a time. This was a test, not a game, and a foul-up could cost lives, not to mention billions of dollars (as the commentators never hesitated to point out.) Enough people thought he was a careless kid who couldn't possibly be responsible enough -
Focus, Herc told him. Chuck managed not to growl out loud. Still, Herc knew the kid sensed that he wasn't unsympathetic. Herc didn't buy into the talking heads and their casual insults either. His kid wasn't brainless, and he wasn't some infant being enslaved either.
Oi. Now whose mind's wandering? Chuck smirked at Herc's sudden chagrin. Well, Herc had never pretended that parts of being a pilot weren't dull as ditchwater. Not just for the pilots either, judging by the banter coming over the speakers. But he and the kid dutifully kept their attention on the "feel" of the systems, since there was only so much that a non-human computer could sense.
Such as when they started testing evasive maneuvers. "Let's limbo!" someone yelled.
"Come on, Striker, give us a back-flip!"
Maneuvers weren't as eagerly-anticipated as firing Striker's weapons, but seeing how far they could pivot on one foot and bending nearly double was pretty damn cool - until Chuck stopped them. "Hold it! Stop!"
"What's wrong?" Herc leaned forward in his rig to look the kid up and down.
Chuck was frowning up at the rig mountings over his head. "LOCCENT, run a circuitry check on my motion rig again. Have I got full connectivity on my right side?"
"Hang on, Striker Two, initiating test pulses...whoop! That's a negative - good call, Chuck. We had full send-receive when you started, but you're down to ninety-three percent. Something's gone unresponsive."
"I've got range of motion..." Chuck tested his limbs, still frowning. "Dunno, it just feels... off. Troubleshoot or emergency test?"
Priya buzzed in from J-Tech. "What I don't like is that your oxygen line runs along your right side. Striker One, any difficulties on your left? Your rig connections are mirror image to each other."
Herc flexed everything, but couldn't sense the faint mental tug that he could feel from Chuck's side through the drift, like a pulled muscle. "No problems here."
"All right, let's slowly finish those maneuvers. Chuck, be ready to yell if you feel anything change, and both of you be ready for us to hit the kill switch if it gets any worse."
They finished the maneuvers without incident, both feeling the faint distortion in Striker's body. "I'm showing more heat above Chuck's right side, LOCCENT," warned Kyrra.
"Okay, I don't like it. Striker, return to the crawler - actually, cancel that, let's kill to birds with one stone. Run an emergency shutdown drill for me. Go!"
Chuck hissed as their minds raced through the protocol, but to Herc's approval, he'd committed every step to muscle memory. In twenty seconds, the drift flowed away as the handshake deactivated, and Striker Eureka settled into silent rest around them. "Emergency shutdown complete, LOCCENT. Permission to disengage?"
"Striker Two, keep connected. Disengage, Striker One. Can you see anything with Striker Two's rig?"
Herc disconnected and walked around Chuck. "Nothing visual." Chuck flexed his arms and tugged on the rig before disengaging, then shrugged at him. "Guesses?"
"Metal fatigue?" Chuck went to check out Herc's rig, transplanted from Lucky Seven. "Or not, actually. Your side's got the metal. I thought a blown circuit, but nothing hurt. Those burn, don't they?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that wasn't it," Herc mused.
But when they got safely into the pickup chopper, Greg Oliver had turned over the controls to one of the other pilots, and was waiting for them in the cabin. "What's wrong?" Chuck demanded.
He held up a tablet. "Olivia Morton's filed a lawsuit. She and her cronies are calling for an order to take Chuck into state custody."
To Be Continued...
Coming Soon: Herc and Chuck, their crew, and their fellow Rangers must close ranks and prove Chuck's readiness to pilot a Jaeger in the court of public opinion - and possibly real court in Chapter Twenty-Seven: Minor Setbacks! (Pun intended.)
Original Character Guide
Juliette and Nathan Girard: pilots of Cascade Victor, a Mark-4 Jaeger jointly launched by the US and Canada. First cousins from Quebec in their mid-20s, both were pilots-in-training with the Canadian Air Force before joining the Jaeger Academy Class 2018-B.
Olivia Morton: Licensed on-site teacher for the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she didn't think much of the Hansens - and they knew it. Vehemently opposed to Chuck's quest to become a Ranger at age 16.
Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He and Chuck clashed as teens in the Shatterdome but resolved their differences (and engaged in some sexual experimentation) at the Jaeger Academy, where Danny achieved drift compatibility with a partner and won the assignment to Tacit Ronin.
Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another graduate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She is drift compatible with Danny Oliver, and they have been assigned as successor pilots of Tacit Ronin.
Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.
Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
Late Rangers
Miguel Blanco and Maria Lopez-Blanco: Rangers of the Mark-1 Jaeger, Talon "Tango" Tasmania. Late 20s. Argentinian Navy pilots, they discovered their drift compatibility by dancing, and started the Ranger tradition of making their Jaeger dance. Married shortly after Christmas 2016. Tragically, they were the first Rangers to die in battle only a few months after their wedding against the kaiju Vaulimi in February 2017.
Jiro and Hayase Shindo: pilots of Tidal Dragon, Japan's Mark-2. Foster siblings from Nagasaki, Japanese martial arts teachers in their mid-30s who helped develop Jaeger Bushido. Tidal Dragon had only one engagement (Razorfin in mid-2018) before her reactor design was proven unsafe, and exposed the Shindos to high radiation. Jiro died less than a year later. Hayase (along with Duc Jessop, whose wife Kaori died of cancer from radiation in Tacit Ronin) has been treated by the PPDC as a propaganda tool ever since, to the deep resentment of their fellow Rangers.
Yan-Jie Lim and Fang Lao: Pilots of Silver Lion, China's Mark-2 Jaeger. First cousins in the Chinese Army, part of the inaugural group of Jaeger pilots. Officially, they were killed in action against kaiju Raythe off the Japanese coast in August 2018, but in fact, they were killed along with their support crew by a massive malfunction that crippled Silver Lion.
Min and Jing Li: Pilots of Horizon Brave. Brother and sister in their late 30s, Chinese Air Force officers and China's first Jaeger pilots, they helped shape the program that would become the Jaeger Academy and recruited many talented people into the program, including a certain set of triplets. Killed in action in Manila on December 16, 2019 during the engagement that destroyed Lucky Seven.