"Lower! Lower! Almost got it…"

Lightcap-dammit, you idjits! You got it on backwards!

"For the last time, Striker, it ain't backwards! They've just made some changes to the front! Quit your whinin' already!"

I ain't whinin'! I'm statin' a fact! I ain't fightin' Kaiju with my bloody head on backwards!

"Oh, dammit, Striker, just let 'em do their job!"

Well, how would YOU like it if some doctor put YOUR head on backwards, Chuck?

"Humans don't work that way, now shut up and let 'em finish already!"

Sure, you can be patient about all this, it ain't YOUR body in pieces!

Marshal Hansen shook his head, looking torn between laughing and groaning. "Never thought I'd be happy to hear those two goin' at each other's throats again. God, it's good to have 'em back."

Tendo nodded in response, then returned his attention to Striker's assembly. The two Marshals watched from the LOCCENT as the Shatterdome's new cranes – a generous donation from the steel magnate that had long supplied the Jaeger program with raw materials – surrounded Striker Eureka's hangar, lowering a massive torso onto gleaming new legs. Most Jaegers from Mark IV on had at least one set of replacement components kept in reserve for quick repairs, though as Shatterdome after Shatterdome had been decommissioned said components had either been melted down or sold off. Striker's spare parts had been just hours from the auction block, ready to be sold to a private collector with far more money than sense… but at the last minute Rain had intervened, and the auction had been cancelled.

Less than a month ago, he would have called it a miracle had the Sydney museum agreed to not seek a refund for the purchase of Cherno's remains. Never in his wildest fantasies had he dreamed that the museum to go above the call of duty and not only agree to sponsor Cherno, a Jaeger not even native to their soil, but spread the word to other museums and pro-Jaeger organizations. Nor had he anticipated the incredible outpouring of support from the world – not just the nations of the Pacific Rim that had been plagued by the Kaiju, but almost every nation of the world.

The outpouring of generosity and support was nothing short of staggering to Tendo. Dozens of pro-Jaeger organizations were squabbling for the right to sponsor the other sentient Jaegers, or campaigning to have other Jaegers rebuilt or brought to the Hong Kong Shatterdome for revival. Protests raged throughout the world at the news that the PPDC, in retaliation for Marshal Choi refusing to deactivate the Jaegers, was terminating all funding for the Jaeger program. Petitions circulated to re-open Shatterdomes around the world, and donations of all sizes poured into the Jaeger program's coffers – from a few crumpled dollars and a crayon drawing stuffed in an envelope by a hopeful child to million-dollar checks written out by celebrities or corporations hoping to make their own mark… or just generate good publicity for themselves.

There were detractors, of course. Conspiracy theorists cried foul, claiming the entire thing was a hoax. Religious fundamentalists screamed that man-made machines coming to life could only be the work of the devil and/or a sign of the coming apocalypse. And a handful of alarmists echoed Griffin's claims that sentient Jaegers were every bit as dangerous as Kaiju, and demanded they be destroyed. But those voices remained in the minority – the rest of the world seemed perfectly happy to welcome intelligent Jaegers with open arms.

There was still much work to do, he knew. The Precursor base was still out there, building new Kaiju to send out against the Shatterdome, and there were still other Jaegers to rescue. But for the first time, Tendo allowed himself to harbor a flicker of hope… hope that they could win this renewed war and establish a future for the Jaegers.

"Chuck an' I owe Rain a huge thank-you for this," Herc noted. "She's made Striker VERY happy. Even if he don't sound like it."

Tendo nodded, unable to suppress a smile of his own. "It's unfortunate that we didn't think to keep spare parts on hand for Gipsy Danger. She's going to have to make do with her secondhand parts a little longer, at least until we can fabricate new limbs."

"When'd you become a sourpuss? At least we got means to make her new limbs now! Blast, when's that girl comin' back? I could kiss her for this."

"Get in line," Tendo laughed. "Even with the PPDC officials cutting our funding, we've had enough donations rolling in that we can fully repair all our current Jaegers, and keep the Shatterdome going for at least another year. Beyond that…" He sighed.

"What now? Blast it, can't you accept a little good luck?"

"We can't run on luck and generosity forever, though. And I doubt the world is going to continue to donate in such amounts for very long. We need a way to make the Shatterdome self-sustainable, or at least secure permanent funding."

"One thing at a time, Choi," Herc advised. "Focus on fightin' the first Kaiju before you look to the Breach for more. Let's get our Jaegers up an' runnin', an' kick the Precursor bastards back to their 'verse. Beyond that… we'll take it as it comes."

Tendo nodded, relenting for now. "There's still one more matter to clear up, though. We made a promise to Dr. Lightcap. Now that we have the funding, we need to go through with it."

"Right, Brawler Yukon. The Canadian museum get back to you yet?"

At that, he sighed. "It figures, you know. Almost every Jaeger museum out there is tripping over themselves to support us or give back the spare parts they've had on display, and the one holdout is the museum actually holding a living Jaeger."

Herc's jaw dropped. "Yer kiddin' me."

"I wish I was." He stared down into his coffee mug, then sipped at the contents, never minding that it had gone cold long ago. "I told them we were prepared to offer much more than they originally paid for him, and they're refusing to budge. Even pointing out that he was alive didn't help. I'm starting to wonder if they didn't accept a payout from the PPDC to refuse to sell to us."

Herc actually growled at that. "Ain't surprised at that. Ain't the head of the PPDC Canadian? Never thought I'd peg a Canadian as evil, but there ya go."

Tendo snorted, wincing as the smothered laugh forced coffee up his nostrils, and spent a moment trying to compose himself before he could answer. "At any rate, we'll keep trying. Through legal channels if at all possible, but if worse comes to worse…" He let the sentence hang.

Herc raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggestin' we steal a Jaeger? Though technically I guess it'd be kidnapping, wouldn't it?"

"I would rather call it a rescue," Tendo replied. "And while I hate to put a black mark on the Shatterdome's reputation, I despise the thought of leaving Brawler isolated any longer than we have to. He needs his surviving Ranger, needs more of his kind close by… okay, I know that look, Hansen. What are you planning?"

"What look?" Herc demanded, not even bothering to hide his smug grin. "An' who says we need to stoop to kidnapping? Why not just nudge things along on our own? Nothin' the museum can do if Brawler walks outta there under his own power, right?"

Tendo opened his mouth to protest, then slowly shut it. Only a Hansen would have the gall to suggest such an audacious plan, one far too risky to consider, let alone endorse. It was ludicrous, even insane…

Insane enough for a Ranger to pull off. And if success means rescuing another Jaeger – the first Jaeger, no less – it's worth the risks.

"Talk to Dr. Lightcap first," he told Herc. "It'll only work if we have her cooperation. Then go to Dr. Geizler and see if he's improved on his homemade neural bridge yet. It's more low-tech than I would like, but at this point a portable option's our only hope."

Herc nodded. "Will do. An' don't worry." He grinned. "If Lightcap's anythin' like the rest of us Rangers, she'll agree to it 'fore we've finished talking."

"Just make sure we have a complete plan first. We'll only get one shot at this. We need to make it count."

"Check."

Cherno chirped in confusion, chassis listing to one side as he considered the makeshift board before him. That's not check.

Knight is in position to take King. Check.

Oh. I keep forgetting the Knights can jump. Your chess is more confusing than the kind Crimson taught me.

Chess is good for the mind, Coyote informed him. Game of logic and thinking. Pentecost was good at it. Taught it to Mako, and tried to teach it to the Becketts. Not sure how well he succeeded there. She gestured in his direction. Your move.

I'm thinking. He pondered the board, then focused his energy on the synthesizer newly installed in his Conn Pod. "King to D1!"

The engineer standing on E1, wearing a paper with a crown symbol on it taped to his shirt, had been thumbing away on his phone, but he jumped with a yelp and scooted sideways to the next square.

"Sorry for spooking you," Cherno told him. "I'm not used to this voice yet."

"It's all right," Hideaki replied, offering a game smile. "I'm not used to you talking just yet."

"Bishop to G4," Coyote ordered, her new voice a booming but feminine contralto, and beamed smugly as Bailey crossed the board to that position. "Checkmate."

Cherno whined softly and waved his hand at the board. "Surrender."

The engineers, technicians, and crew members who had volunteered to serve as game pieces stepped away from the makeshift board, conversing softly amongst themselves. Off to the side, Mako and Caitlyn were still taking notes and investigating readouts on scanners, comparing their findings in hushed tones. His parents looked on as well, and Aleksis reached up to pat his leg.

"Good game," he told him. "You will beat her next time."

I hope so, Papa. But I'm not good at this one. I'm better with the one with the cards.

"Yes, but Tendo has asked that we suspend poker for the time being," Sasha replied, suppressing a smirk. "Perhaps we should find another card game to teach you."

"I think that'll be the last game for now," Caitlyn told them, shutting off the scanner. "At least the last one for research purposes. How's your new voice synthesizer suiting you, Cherno?"

Cherno winced internally. Do I have to tell her the truth, Mama?

"Tell her the truth," she urged. "It is the only way she can fix anything wrong."

He gusted out a sigh of vented air. "I do not like this new voice. It… doesn't fit." There was more he could have said, but he deliberately clipped his complaint short. He hated his new voice – it was far too deep and monotone for his tastes, with an exaggerated accent as if whoever had installed it was insistent that a Russian Jaeger sound properly Russian. To his own audial receptors, he sounded threatening, even scary, and he didn't want that.

"I know, big guy," Caitlyn replied, giving him a sympathetic smile. "I don't think it suits you either. But it's only temporary. We'll get it recalibrated so that it sounds closer to how you want it to sound, all right?"

He bobbed slightly in a nod of agreement. It was annoying, but he could learn to live with it. Especially given that the alternatives were either forcing his parents to relay everything he said or giving them headaches by "shouting" constantly.

"Dr. Lightcap, I want a word when you're done!" Marshal Hansen called out.

"Go," Mako told her. "I'll finish up here."

"Thank you." Caitlyn smiled at the younger Ranger, then picked up her tablet and hurried out after Striker's Ranger. Mako continued to pack up, while Coyote gathered the cables that had marked the grid of the game board.

I'm going outside, she informed Cherno. I need to stretch my legs. Come with me?

Not right now, Cherno told her. My parents said they had a surprise for me after the game.

Another time, then. To his surprise, she reached out and patted his shoulder before turning and striding for the door. Gipsy and Crimson had been watching the reassembly of Striker's body, but they quickly stepped out of the way to let her pass.

"Now Cherno," Sasha said with a bright smile, "we promised you a surprise. Are you ready?"

Cherno thrummed eagerly and pushed himself to his feet. What kind of surprise?

"If we told you, it would no longer be a surprise," laughed Aleksis, and he waved Cherno toward his hangar. With a little sadness he noted that Papa still walked with a limp – not as bad as before, but he would probably never walk normally again. His parents had recovered as much as they ever would from the double event, and while they still possessed the fire of Rangers, they would forever bear scars… and would probably never fight again.

Then I must fight extra hard for them to make up for it, he vowed as he followed his Rangers. It is the least I can do…

"By Svarog! For once the news got it right! He lives!"

Cherno froze in his tracks. That voice… he hadn't heard it in years! But the sound of it brought back memories of hands nudging open his Conn Pod, the tapping of a cane against his consoles, something foreign but not unpleasant laid at the foot of his controls…

There was someone in his hangar, a wizened old man sitting on the cot where his parents normally slept. Upon spotting the Jaeger he pushed himself upright with the aid of a cane and limped closer, his gait reminding Cherno of Dr. Gottlieb's hitching stride. He was frailer than Cherno recalled, his beard gone yellow and tangled with neglect and one eye filmed over, but there was still no mistaking him… and the sight of him sent a thrill of joy through his core.

"Ilya?"

The old man cackled as he craned his neck to gaze up at the titan. "He remembers me!"

"Who could forget you, Uncle?" Aleksis said with a resigned chuckle. "Yes, Cherno, this is your Uncle Ilya. He was finally given clearance to visit."

Cherno crouched in order to not tower so much over Ilya, feeling a rush of pleasure at the memories. He knew Papa was close to the old man, even if his superstitions annoyed him at times, and Mama had grown fond of him as well. Given his parents' feelings, how could he not take a liking to him?

"It is…" He scowled inwardly at his voice. "It is good to see you again, Uncle."

"Blast it, can they make you sound any more like a robot?" Ilya grouched. "But it's good to see YOU again, Cherno! It seems leaving gifts for the domovoi paid off after all!"

Aleksis groaned. "For the last time, Ilya, it was not the domovoi. It was the consequences of frequent drifting over the years."

"Bah," Ilya dismissed, flapping his hand in the air. "Bunk, I say. Science chalks it up to the drift when they really have no idea, right? I say the domovoi in your Jaeger finally manifested itself."

Cherno gave a chirp of confusion. He had vague memories of Ilya talking about the house spirits in the past, but he had no idea what those had to do with him. He was no house spirit… right?

"I've long said it, and I stand by it," Ilya went on, walking fearlessly forward to rest his hand against Cherno's foot. "The Jaegers are vessels. Vessels for the domovoi of their Shatterdomes. Instead of managing the affairs of the home, however, they have taken on the role of protectors, defending their Shatterdomes and the world from the demons of the deep. And just as the domovoi of our homes respond to kind and respectful treatment, so do the domovoi that now wear bodies of metal respond to the kindness and comradeship of their Rangers."

Sasha opened her mouth as if to protest, then slowly shut it. "I have never thought of it that way, Uncle Ilya. That's actually a lovely way to look at it."

Cherno cocked his chassis to one side as he pondered the old man's words. "If we are domovoi, then how does that explain Mustang Omega?"

"Mustang what?"

"The newest Jaeger," Sasha explained. "The Mark VI. It has not yet shown signs of sentience."

"Hmm." Ilya folded his hands over the top of his cane. "What are his Rangers like?"

"Jerks," Cherno provided, just as Aleksis said "Assholes" at the same time. His engines stuttered in a laugh at that, earning a glower from Sasha.

"They are but children," Sasha clarified. "Recent graduates from training. They are talented, but have no respect for their Jaeger. As far as they are concerned, Mustang Omega might as well be a tank they drive into battle… or worse, a toy to play with."

Ilya frowned, his fingers clenching on the pommel of his cane. "The domovoi are spirits, but even they can be neglected. If disrespected by those who live in the home, they will leave… or worse, play tricks on those who occupy their homes. Sometimes dangerous tricks." He shook his head. "Keep a close watch on that one, young Cherno… for there may come a day when the Rossis need the help of the domovoi within their Jaeger, and find themselves without his aid when they need it most."

The tone in Ilya's voice chilled him, and he couldn't suppress a shudder that made his armor clatter. As much as he wanted to believe his Papa's insistence that Ilya's stories were just superstitious tales, he sounded so sure of himself, so matter-of-fact, that he wanted to believe. Especially since his words weren't so far off from what Lightcap had said, that it was the Rossis' neglect that was keeping Mustang's sentience suppressed.

Aleksis just gave a dry chuckle. "You'll find any way to twist the situation to fit your superstitions, won't you, Ilya?"

"Oh hush," he retorted, giving his nephew a playful glower. "You were once a staunch believer too, young one. Don't make me tell your overgrown son all about it."

Cherno "laughed" again. "I want to hear all the stories! About Papa and about the old tales and the spirits. I only heard a few during your past visits."

"See?" Ilya crowed. "Someone appreciates the old stories!" He hitched his way back to the cot and sat down. "Come in here where we can talk in peace, then."

Cherno turned to face his parents. Mama, Papa, can I?

Sasha laughed. "We invited Ilya here to get better acquainted with you, Cherno. Of course you can talk to him. We'll be in the mess hall while you two get to know one another."

He chirred in delight and stepped fully into the hangar, sitting down with as much care as he could manage. Whether or not Ilya's stories were true, they were certainly going to be fun.

"Cherno?"

That voice, gentle yet insistent, nudged him back to awareness, and he brought his visual sensors online and focused them down at the younger Rossi curiously.

"Hey big guy," she murmured. "How you doing?"

Cherno almost answered her aloud, then caught himself as his gaze rested on Ilya. The old man had regaled him with colorful tales for most of the evening – stories about Vasilisa the Beautiful, Baba Yaga, the Firebird, the Snow Dragon, the Frog Princess, Katschei the Deathless – but at last exhaustion had caught up with him, and he had slumped over on the cot and begun snoring mid-sentence. He had waited patiently for him to wake up and continue where he left off, but at some point he must have slipped into standby mode.

I'm well, he answered, focusing his mental voice at her as Coyote had taught him to do. Where are my parents? They should have been back by now.

"They're at a meeting with Marshal Choi," she replied. "All the Rangers are, actually. It might be awhile before they come back." Her gaze moved to the old man, and she smothered a laugh behind her hand. "Funny old man… is he a relative of your Rangers?"

Cherno bobbed once. My papa's uncle. I like him. He's kind, and respects us.

Bailey nodded back. "Hey… while you're waiting for him to wake up, maybe I could do something about your voice?"

He chirped inquisitively. My voice?

"Dr. Lightcap says you're not happy with how it turned out. I might be able to tweak your synthesizer a bit, modulate the voice until it's closer to what you want. Something that's a little less scary than the Russian Darth Vader you're currently channeling."

Despite himself, Cherno let his engines click in a giggle at her description. I would like that! What do I have to do?

"Just lift me up into your cockpit," she replied. "Then just sit back and let me do the work, all right?"

Cherno bobbed again, and he held his hand flat on the floor for her. She stepped into his palm, and he lifted her to the Pod, unlocking the hatch for her.

I was thinking something not so deep, he told her as she climbed in. Younger-sounding, too. Not quite like Crimson's, though… and definitely not a girl's voice like Gipsy or Coyote's…

Bailey didn't respond, simply moved to his computer console and set to work. She was all business, it seemed, wanting to get this done quickly. He hoped she'd at least listened to his requests, and wouldn't just stick him with a voice that sounded silly or inappropriate.

A command prompt he'd never felt before flashed through his computer core, and he pulsed a questioning thought inward, toward the technician.

Um… Bailey? That's not my voice synthesizer, he told her. I think you made a mistake.

"Trust me, Cherno," she assured him. "I know what I'm doing." And she touched the CONFIRM prompt.

Something twinged in Cherno's core, a sensation almost but not quite pain. A prickle of heat flooded his chassis, slight at first, but rapidly climbing with every second. The lights of his Conn Pod flared bright red as alarms blared, and a stark, terrifying warning displayed on every internal screen and across his own CPU.

WARNING: REACTOR OVERLOAD IMMINENT. THREE MINUTES TO SELF-DESTRUCT.

A squeal of terror tore from his engines. Bailey!

The technician backed away from the console, leaning against the back wall of his Conn Pod. "It's done, Cherno."

Turn it off! He clawed at his Conn Pod with both hands, as if hoping to rip it open and shut down the self-destruct himself. Please! Bailey, what did you do?

"I did what I had to," she replied, sounding far too calm for his liking. "There's no reversing it."

His CPU scrambled for a response, for a solution of some kind. Terror and anger flashed through him in equal measure, pulsing a single word through his mind. Why… why would one of his own technicians do this to him? It was unthinkable… unless… no, it couldn't be…

Why? he demanded.

"Vengeance," Bailey replied quietly. "For the closing of the Breach, for the deaths of countless Messengers of the Deep Ones, for the destruction of our temple. I would have gone for Gipsy, since she's so obviously the hero of the Kaiju War, but I didn't have an excuse to get into her Conn Pod. But you not only had the perfect excuse, you're the Jaeger that everyone loves and dotes on." Her tone became smug, self-satisfied. "Which will make it all the more agonizing when you die, and take half the Shatterdome with you."

The knowledge that Bailey Rossi was the Kaiju cult's spy might have angered him into doing something terrible under other circumstances. But any response on Cherno's part was cut off by a second warning.

REACTOR OVERLOAD IMMINENT. TWO MINUTES AND THIRTY SECONDS TO SELF-DESTRUCT.

Cherno squealed again and shot to his feet, bolting out of the hangar. Gipsy reached out to him as if to block his path, but he batted her arm away and charged for the doors, scattering work crews and crushing a stack of crates underfoot in his haste. He had to get out of the Shatterdome now, get as far away as he could… before the unthinkable happened…

"I'm sorry, Cherno… I really did grow to like you. But we all have to make sacrifices in times of war."

Cherno wanted to tear his Conn Pod open and crush her with his own hands, and the intensity of his own hatred toward a human briefly terrified him. But he couldn't waste time on his own anger. The surf of Victoria Harbor surged around his ankles as he struggled to put as much distance between himself and the Shatterdome as he could, trying to ignore the building heat in his core…

Mama! Papa! Help me!