It was like walking into a myth, stepping out of the physical world and into a living legend.
A hush fell over the prospective pilots as they filed into the hangar, ready for their first sight of the ultimate prize. No one dared so much as whisper as they gaped at the titan before them, a towering juggernaut of titanium and steel that gleamed silver-green in the hangar lights. Over eighty meters tall, broadly built and thickly armored, it seemed to radiate an aura of sheer power that threatened to overwhelm all who looked at it. And more than one rookie swore they could feel the giant looking back at them, leveling its own iron gaze upon them and passing its own judgment on whether they were qualified to serve as its pilot.
Aleksis Kaidonovsky couldn't suppress an excited grin. It was beautiful – far more beautiful than he had ever imagined. The photographs and film footage he had seen of its construction hadn't done it justice. This was more than a mere machine – it was a physical god, a slayer of the demons from the abyss.
"Cherno Alpha," the commander of the Vladivostok Shatterdome announced, nodding forward at the enormous mecha. "The most advanced Jaeger constructed to date… and our last hope for defending our homeland."
An appreciative murmur passed through the gathered candidates.
"Twenty of you have been selected for this program," he went on. "The best of the best chosen to participate in the coming trials to determine Cherno Alpha's pilots. Only two of you shall make the cut to be Rangers."
"He states the obvious," muttered someone directly behind Aleksis, and he turned to find a young blond woman raising a sardonic eyebrow at the commander.
"Obvious or not, it's truth," Aleksis countered softly. "I just hope to be one of the two."
She smirked. "Simply hoping doesn't get you anywhere. You have to act, not just hope."
"Lieutenant Kaidonovsky, Lieutenant Pevtsov!" the commander barked. "Do either of you want a demerit for speaking out of turn?"
The woman stood stiffly at attention and raised her chin. "No, sir!"
"No sir!" Aleksis echoed.
"Then remain silent during the briefing!" He kept his stern gaze on them a moment longer before looking away. "Report to the barracks. In the morning, the tests begin… and we shall separate the dross from the gold, and determine who is best suited to defend our coasts from this Kaiju menace." He nodded sharply. "Dismissed!"
Most of the candidates dispersed immediately, talking amongst themselves. A few remained behind to stare at Cherno Alpha a little longer, their eyes shining with awe and desire. Aleksis was among them, leaning on the railing and gazing upon the Jaeger with an eager smile. So close… he had come so far in so short a time, working feverishly to increase his standing in the army and trying to catch the attention of his commanding officer, in the hopes of being selected for this exclusive program. He was almost there, and he was secretly terrified that he would have his hopes snatched away at any moment, so close to securing his goal of being a Ranger.
Movement to his left caught his eye, and he turned to see the blond woman joining him in his study of the titan, a covetous gleam in her eye. He noted with interest that she was surprisingly tall for a woman – still shorter than him, but then, he had always been the giant of his family…
"Beautiful, isn't she?" Aleksis noted.
She chuckled. "He. He is beautiful. He looks rather masculine, don't you think?"
He frowned. "I always thought of them as being like boats – don't captains call their ships female?"
"A Jaeger is not a boat," she pointed out with a laugh. "Each has their own distinct look, and some are suited to be female… but not this one."
He shrugged. "If you say so. You seem to know a lot about the Jaegers."
"My uncle worked at the assembly yard where Brawler Yukon and Romeo Blue were constructed," she replied. "He was not directly involved in building the actual Jaeger, but he learned a lot from the builders." She folded her arms on the railing and rested her chin on them, eyes shining. "I'd love nothing better than to be a Ranger. The Jaegers have always fascinated me, and this is my chance to finally get close to them."
"Well… good luck to you." He extended his hand. "Lieutenant Aleksis Kaidonovsky."
She took his hand, her grip surprisingly firm. "Lieutenant Sasha Pevtsov. My pleasure. And good luck to you as well, Aleksis. May the best candidate win."
Pain… searing, shattering pain that obliterated all thought, all memory… it was as if the entire world were composed only of the burning pain, throbbing and pulsing with every heartbeat…
Are you there? Can you hear me?
A voice… but not a physical one. The agony seemed to swamp all the senses – vision, hearing, even smell and taste. It beckoned and called, but it was so much effort to respond…
Answer me! Please! Talk to me! Can you hear me?
Blackness slid closer, smothering the pain, offering comfort in the form of the void. It was so tempting to give in, to let the darkness overwhelm all else… to finally be able to rest…
Don't leave me! Don't go! Please, stay… I need you…
That voice… it seemed so familiar… someone beloved, someone closer than life itself… someone who was worth more than freedom from the pain. Reaching out to it took so much effort, though… and the darkness beckoned more than ever, offering relief, offering peace…
Don't go! Please don't go! I'm scared… I need you with me, I'm so scared…
The fear and longing in that voice cut into the heart. No… it wasn't time to leave… not today. The blackness might offer relief, but it was a relief that meant death. If staying behind meant pain… then so be it.
It took every ounce of strength to fight the encroaching blackness, and it seemed reluctant to give up its prize… but at last it receded, ready to bide its time for another day. Pain returned with a vengeance… but with it a burst of relief and even joy…
Aleksis opened his eyes, wincing. The light was far too bright here – it felt as if someone had thrust knives into his eyes. He blinked furiously, squinting against the brightness, and tried to raise his hand to shield his vision. That movement sent every muscle and nerve in his arm screaming in pain, and he lowered the limb with a grimace.
He must have cried out, or perhaps someone had been watching him while he moved, because there was suddenly a presence at his side – a short, balding, white-coated doctor who rested a careful hand on his shoulder.
"He's awake!" the doctor barked, too loudly for Aleksis' tastes. "Hold still, sir… don't move too much if you can help it. You're still healing, and we don't want you to tear the skin grafts."
He blinked up at the man, baffled. Skin grafts… what was he blathering on about? "What…"
"Just relax, sir. You're in good hands." The doctor smiled, an expression that didn't do a whole lot to mask the tension in his face. "I won't lie, it was rather touch and go for you for awhile, but if you've made it this far, you're going to be okay."
A soft moan drifted from the bed on his right, and he turned his head to investigate. He paid for that movement with fire snaking up his neck and jaw, but what he saw made him forget the pain – Sasha lying in the bed a short distance away, scars marring her proud features, her blond hair shaved down to a light layer of fuzz. She was so utterly still that had it not been for her earlier sound of pain or the monitors hooked to her body, Aleksis might have mistaken her for dead. As it was, he felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach – his wife, badly hurt, possibly dying…
"She's waking up!" the doctor shouted again, the exclamation aimed at someone outside Aleksis' field of vision. "Let's get another physician in here, stat!"
"S-Sasha…" Aleksis groaned, trying to sit up. His nerves seemed to burst with pain, but he struggled for a good minute before finally lying back, exhausted. How did he get so weak so quickly? "My Sasha…"
"She'll be all right," the doctor assured him. "The two of you have been in medically induced comas for the past five weeks. You were very severely injured during the battle at Hong Kong."
The battle… the Double Event! Memory returned with such force he gasped for breath. Two Kaiju had threatened the city, and they had gone out with Crimson Typhoon to face them. Crimson had gone down, and the last thing he remembered was water flooding Cherno's cockpit, and a horrible face leering down at them, its reptilian eyes seeming to glow with triumph at having bested not one, but two Jaegers…
"You'll need to stay here awhile longer," the doctor went on. "We need to make sure infection doesn't set in, and you'll need physical therapy to regain your strength after so long under sedation. But if you've come this far, I don't see any reason why you can't be out of here in less than a month."
"Don't have a month," Aleksis insisted, trying to push himself upright again. He managed to raise his head from the pillow, and figured that would have to do for now. "We have a mission…"
The doctor stared at him, frowning in confusion. Belatedly Aleksis wondered if he'd said too much. News of the planned strike on the Breach wasn't supposed to leave the Shatterdome, and if this wasn't one of the Shatterdome's physicians…
"Sir… the Breach was closed five weeks ago," he replied slowly. "The Kaiju War is over. Over for good."
Over… it took a minute for that news to sink in. The strike on the Breach had already taken place, without his or Sasha's involvement. There would be no more Kaiju, no more PPDC, no more need for Jaegers or the Wall or anything else. They had staved off the apocalypse and saved the world.
He supposed he should feel either triumph that Pentecost's plan had been a success, or disappointment that he and Sasha had been unable to play a part in it. But to his surprise he felt… empty. As if the news meant nothing to him, was only a curious bit of trivia instead of the world-changing event it should have been. Perhaps it was because he had to receive the news secondhand instead of taking part in the final battle himself, or perhaps it was simply because, in light of his injuries, so little else mattered…
Or perhaps it was something else, a worry that gnawed at him and wouldn't let him think of anything else until he had put it to rest. This doctor might think it trivial compared to all else… but he had to know.
"Cherno," he murmured. "What about Cherno? Is he… is it badly damaged?"
The doctor bit his lip, seemingly debating whether it was worth telling his patient the truth or not. In the end, he opted for honesty.
"Your… superiors… left a message for you, sir, in the event that you woke up and we judged you in good enough condition to know." He looked down at his feet. "They said to inform you that they're sorry, but your Jaeger was damaged beyond repair."
Tendo Choi, Commander of the Hong Kong Shatterdome in the absence of Marshal Pentecost, had to resist the urge to rub his temples as he faced down the wall of screens depicting the various representatives of the United Nations. How Pentecost had been able to deal with these people on a regular basis without suffering an aneurysm was anyone's guess.
"I tell you, we need more funding," he said as calmly as he could manage. "Simply because the Breach is closed now doesn't mean it can't be opened again, or that the Precursors won't just open another somewhere else. We have to be prepared…"
"We are preparing," the UK delegate replied in a matter-of-fact tone, as if Tendo should know this by now. "And we feel the best way to defend humanity from another attack is to extend the Wall of Life project to cover all populated coastal areas, not just those bordering the Pacific."
"The Anti-Kaiju Wall is ineffective," Tendo protested. "Mutavore's attack on Syndey proved that. Our best hope for another attack is to bolster the Jaeger program."
"The Jaegers were falling right and left at the end of the war," the Chilean delegate retorted, scowling. "The public had lost faith that the Jaegers could protect them-"
"And they have any more faith in the Wall?" Tendo asked with an arched eyebrow. "Or has the UN forgotten about the Sydney attack and the ensuing riots already?"
"The Wall WILL work," the American delegate insisted. "It simply needs redesigned, with better reinforcement and perhaps anti-Kaiju missile-launchers placed at strategic locations."
"And if even that fails, what then?" Tendo countered. "What will you do if a Kaiju breaches your new and improved wall, somewhere too far away for us to fly our single Jaeger to in a timely manner?"
"We will deal with that as the time comes," the Canadian representative replied. "But the new and improved wall WILL work. We have faith in the Wall of Life program, and we suggest you put your trust in it, Mr. Choi."
Tendo stifled a groan, feeling the beginnings of a migraine brewing behind his eyes. Despite their victory over a month ago, the governments of the world were all too willing to dismiss the success of the Jaeger program, sweeping it under the rug in favor of focusing on rebuilding and maintaining their precious coastal wall. Never mind that the wall had proven to be a dismal failure, and that it would cost far more to complete such a structure than to continue funding the Jaeger program – they chose to focus on playing defense, on pouring all their funds into a virtual black hole.
Hercules had his own theory on why so much focus was being put on the Wall, and Tendo had to admit that it made sense – not that it made him feel any better. The PPDC and governments had been responsible for the development of the Jaegers in the first place, and had wanted some sort of recognition for the program that had ultimately saved the world. But the public chose instead to lavish attention on the Rangers, and in many cases on the Jaegers themselves despite them being mindless machines. If the government could undermine and discredit the Jaeger program, and promote the Wall as a more viable alternative, they could make themselves the heroes instead.
That left a sour taste in Tendo's mouth. This war should be about protecting humanity, not about who got the glory in the aftermath.
"Our decision is final, Mr. Choi," the UK delegate said in conclusion. "We will provide you with enough funding to build one new Jaeger, and to restore one of the retired Jaegers to full functionality. They will be kept on standby in case any new Kaiju attacks are reported, until the Wall is completed."
Tendo forced himself to maintain a bland expression and gave a stiff bow. He held his expression until the last screen had blanked out, then blew out a frustrated sigh.
"Damn fools," Herc muttered from his vantage point in the corner of the briefing room. "Gonna get us all killed just to make a point."
Tendo sighed again and turned away from the vacant screens. "There's very little we can do, though. Except take what aid they give us and secure whatever else we need through Pentecost's black-market channels. And hope that's enough."
Herc snorted. "Won't be enough. Damnit, good men and women died saving their hides and they spit on their memories like this…"
"Hansen," Tendo said softly, "there's nothing more we can do. They've made their decision, and we can either stand here complaining about it, or we can do the smart thing – mourn and honor our dead, pick up, and move on."
Herc scowled at that, but Tendo could read the sadness underlying his current anger. Despite their constant bickering and Chuck's hotheadedness, Hercules had been close to his son. Like many Jaeger pilots, they had shared a strong bond that went beyond mere teammates or even family. And though Chuck had died a hero, sacrificing himself and Striker Eureka to clear the way for Raleigh to close the Breach, Herc was still reeling from losing the last of his family to the Kaiju War.
Tendo closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, hoping the budding migraine would fade on its own. So much had been lost over the course of this war. So many Rangers had died against the Kaiju, and millions had perished in attacks around the world. There were few lives among the population of the Pacific Rim who hadn't somehow been affected by the war, whether by direct loss or simply the side effects of a prolonged war. Even Tendo hadn't escaped unscathed – he still clearly remembered Trespasser's attack, trying to evacuate as many as he could aboard a ferry, having to watch his grandfather slowly succumb to the effects of Kaiju Blue…
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Lingering on the past did no good. Thanks to the closing of the Breach, they had a future to focus on now.
"Any messages?" he asked.
Herc shrugged. "Ain't your secretary."
"'I don't know' works as an answer too, Hansen," Tendo noted dryly.
"There's somethin'," Herc amended. "Message from the hospital in Hong Kong. The Kaidonovskys are awake."
Tendo blinked, surprised but not altogether disappointed at the news. When Cherno Alpha had been obliterated by Otachi and Leatherback, everyone had given its pilots up for dead. It had come as a welcome relief when a salvage crew had reported back that Aleksis and Sasha had survived the battle, albeit half-drowned and severely injured. But when weeks had gone by without any word that the two had recovered from their injuries or even awakened from their comas, the crew of the Shatterdome had gradually given up hope.
Knowing that two of the best Rangers in the PPDC program had not only survived, but made progress in their recovery, was the best news he'd heard in a long time. Now he only hoped the Wei Tang triplets could make a similar recovery. The three had been recovered from Crimson Typhoon's cockpit shortly after the Kaidonovskys had been found, but two had suffered severe head trauma and remained in comas. Though an MRI had shown that the third brother's injuries were relatively minor, he, too, had yet to awaken. The doctors were baffled by this, though privately Tendo was convinced that the bond between the Weis was so strong that the condition of one brother could adversely affect the condition of the others.
"That's good news," was all he said aloud. "Anything else on their conditions?"
"Sasha's walkin' some, though the doctors want her usin' a wheelchair for the next little while. Aleksis' still bedridden – leg infection – but he's rarin' to get up and get his strength back." Herc's mouth quirked in a fraction of a smile. "Gotta admire that kinda spunk."
"Not a lot keeps those two down," Tendo admitted. "Anything on the Weis?"
"Nothin'. Same condition as always."
Well, they couldn't expect five miracle recoveries in one day, Tendo supposed. "Anything else?"
Herc shook his head. "Just a word from the Kaidonovskys. They're wantin' to come back and see what's left of Cherno one last time."
Tendo frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Herc eyed the man critically. "An' why not?"
"Cherno is… not like how they remember," Tendo replied diplomatically. "It was quite literally taken apart in the battle, and it might be rather shocking for them to see it in this state."
Herc just gave Tendo a long look of the sort he had once given Chuck when the younger pilot had done something particularly bone-headed. "You don't understand, Tendo."
"Try me," Tendo countered.
Herc looked skeptical, but nodded and continued. "A man gets in the cockpit of a Jaeger the first time, he thinks he's the boss of it, that it's just a weapon he uses to go kick Kaiju ass. But sooner or later, 'less he's an idiot, he learns you don't control a Jaeger – not the same way you control a jet or a tank. It's more like ridin' a horse – a partnership, if you will. You learn its habits, how it moves an' handles, what spooks it an' what it can do under pressure. It's a give an' take, an' just like a rider who don't learn that right away gets thrown, a pilot who don't learn that right away is liable to get his ass handed to him the first time he takes that thing into battle."
Tendo frowned. "Are you saying the Jaegers are alive?"
"Not in the same way you an' I are. Or like Max here." He nodded down at the bulldog, who was sprawled beneath a chair at the moment. "But it's the same basic thing. You're not just driftin' with your co-pilot, workin' with them – you're workin' with the machine, too. You come to see it as a member of your team, same as your co-pilot. An' maybe losin' your Jaeger isn't as traumatic as losin' your co-pilot… but it's mighty hard, hard as havin' to put down a good dog or horse. Maybe harder, since you've shed blood, sweat, and tears in your Jaeger, an' been through Hell with it.
"I dunno if that makes any sense to you, Tendo… but a Ranger, they understand. Ask Beckett sometime about Gipsy, an' Mori too." He reached up to scrub at his face with one hand. "An' as much as I miss my boy an' want him back… there's part of me that wishes I could see Striker too… just one last time."
Tendo mulled that over, then nodded slowly. What Herc said made total sense to him. He'd heard of Air Force pilots developing similar bonds with their planes, even taking to naming them and giving them their own distinct personalities. And while it was rare for a Ranger to survive the destruction of their Jaeger, it had happened… and said pilots were often left shell-shocked enough by the loss that they almost never got into the cockpit of another Jaeger after that. Pentecost was the only one in recent memory… but that had been extraordinary circumstances.
"We'll hold off on dismantling Cherno Alpha until the Kaidonovskys are well enough to travel," Tendo replied. "We can let them have one last look."
Herc seemed to relax a notch at that. "What's gonna be done with it?"
"There's a museum in Sydney that's going to be adding an extensive wing on the history of the Jaeger program, and they've expressed interest in displaying Cherno. They're offering a good price for it, too, which will help us with rebuilding Crimson Typhoon and finishing the Mustang Omega project."
Herc screwed up his face in disgust. "Aw, hell no!"
Tendo cocked his head. "Don't like the idea of a Jaeger on display? Or do you think we're restoring the wrong Jaeger? Crimson would be a lot easier to repair than Cherno…"
"Don't tell me we're going forward with that stupid Mark VI project!"
"Hansen, I know Striker Eureka was your Jaeger and you're rightly proud of it. But there's been promising new technology developed since then, and we'd be stupid not to incorporate it in the new Jaeger."
"It's not that I think it's gonna outshine Striker," Herc retorted. "It's that I think Mustang's gonna be a waste of good resources. Why not use the funds to restore Cherno or remake Gipsy or Eureka – or hell, even Coyote – instead of dumping them on something that's gonna be as much a bust as that buggin' Wall?"
"The decision's already been made, Hansen," Tendo told him. "If that's all, then let's get back to work. We've got a lot to do."
Herc grumbled under his breath as he walked out, whistling for Max to follow. Tendo gathered up his papers and tablet before heading out after him. Add cleaning up Cherno and making it presentable for company to their ever-growing list of things to do – it wouldn't make the Mark I look factory-fresh, but it would at least make it look less ghastly for its former pilots.