Notes: I'm so sorry, Kaddy. I couldn't wait.
Chapter TextThe entire base grinds to a halt as the deafening Breach alarm sputters to life. Red lights flash in the corridors, but only one person responds. Marshall Hansen barrels past the frozen crowds and shoulders his way into the LOCCENT, the source of the alarm.
"Choi!" he barks, and Tendo comes in from a side room with his arms full of tech. "What's going on?"
Tendo frowns, depositing his armload onto a nearby table and coming over to the main console. "Good question, I thought I took the important parts out."
"So it's just scaring us all half to death because you didn't turn it all the way off?" Herc demands. Tendo shrugs, prodding at the flickering holo-screen. It flares to life in all its tri-color glory for them to examine. The alarm is still blaring.
"What is it?" Herc says irritably, crossing his arms.
"Jesus," Tendo manages. "That's a Breach." He swallows, takes a moment as the Marshall peers over his shoulder. "Four miles from our location."
"It's real?" Herc asks, and Tendo can only nod. They thought they were done with this, thought they were packing up the last remnants of their past and going home. But, "is that a kaiju?"
Tendo stares at the yellow dot, hands moving instinctually for the intercom. "It is. Unknown category, I just brought in the last of the sensors yesterday." The display flickers, then reappears. They both jump.
"Shit!" Herc swears, batting Tendo's hand away as the other man stares. "It's right on top of us!" He flicks the speaker on, makes the announcement to the rest of the 'dome. The cameras outside show a ragged little kaiju, neon eyes flashing in the green glow of the night vision camera. Its thick skin is raw in places, massive wings torn around the edges. Hooked claws scrape furrows into the concrete platform, oozing blue ichor. It looks about the size of a category I, hunched and sick, but vicious in a feral sort of way the other kaiju never were. A twenty-foot long tail sweeps trucks and machinery into the water, but it pays them no mind. It bends its head to snuffle at the doors of the Jaeger hangar; they watch with morbid curiosity as it shivers and rears back, opening its dragon mouth to hurl an ear-splitting shriek at the sky. It's a horrid, drawn-out sound, long nails clawing down a miles-long chalk board with a crack in the middle that seems to throw the kaiju off. It coughs, shudders, and begins to pace around the Shatterdome. Its furious cries can be heard clearly where they stand in the center of the LOCCENT.
"What's it doing?" Tendo breathes, horrified and curious and dreading the answer to his own question.
The Marshall scowls, recrossing his arms over his chest as they watch. Below them, the forty-odd staff left scramble about the 'dome in search of something to do about it. "It's looking for something. We still have a simulator?"
Tendo narrows his eyes in thought. "We do. Mako and Raleigh are playing around with it. But it's just a Mark I Jaeger skeleton, nothing on it, and it's got a limited charge off the plug. Like an old laptop, I guess. No," he adds in alarm at Herc's thoughtful expression. "A SIM Jaeger is completely useless, you can't even Drift in one. There isn't even a Conn-pod!"
"Wouldn't that be better, anyways?" Herc challenges, hand hovering over the button of the intercom. "If the SIM falls, we don't lose the pilots' lives."
"It's made for trainees!" Tendo protests. "Even if we cut it from the hangar, the pilots are stuck in the simulator room. How are they going to see?"
"They get a basic HUD," Herc assures him. "And most of our armory's in the hangar." Armory meaning small missiles and three fighter jets.
There are a thousand ways for this to go wrong; the ancient wireless connection between suit and Jaeger could fail, the pilots' reaction times could be too slow, the power surge from disconnecting the SIM from the grid could short out the HUD. The hangar's not big enough for any number of jets to be flying around in it, no matter how many Jaegers it was built to house. But they have no choice, and they're wasting precious minutes while the kaiju paces outside.
"Who do we have?" Tendo sighs, rubbing his temples in hopes of postponing the imminent headache.
Herc bares his teeth in something resembling a grin. "Mako and Raleigh."
On the screen, the kaiju leaps.
**8**
The burst of cold air on his face burns, on the other side of the Breach. It's bright out here, a unusual sort of direct sunlight that stings his eyes. He understands, now, why most of his brethren attacked at night; the solitary light source is clouds are puffs of icy breath, cool one moment and gone the next. It's almost relaxing, but
"Parts, kaiju."
he was given a task by the Precursors, the Masters themselves. This takes precedence to any and all of his own thoughts or needs.
He thinks again of the images of the giant monsters provided by the Masters. What strange creatures, he muses, and by prodding the hivemind he's allowed to see that the tiny beasts - the humans - created them, live in them. The Jaeger can usually be killed by the death of the humans inside. How unusual.
He appreciates the kindness of the Masters demonstrated in the closeness of the Breach to his destination. It takes mere moments to land next to the strange land mass -
building Shatterdome
home
- and that is quite interesting. The quick lick of thought did not taste of kaiju, nor did it have the authoritative air of a message from a Master. Is there something else?
"Parts, you foolish creature."
Ah, right. Jaeger parts. This building, Shatterdome, a home not his own (is it? nonsense) contains them, he can smell it. He breathes in the reek of ancient oils and hot metal, revels in it and memorizes it, with the abstract familiarity of the hivemind's experiences. His tail lashes, scattering tiny human toys and scraping across the unnatural land surface under his feet. The not-rock is unkind to his damaged claws and he bleeds, hissing at the sting of it. The fun is over, and now he must complete his duty.
Well, always start with the entrances. He lumbers over to the largest doorway, feeling inordinately clumsy amongst all these small things. His nose collides with smooth metal too thick to tear through with his claws the way they are - he suppresses a flash of irritation at how he was given only enough energy to survive, not to heal. Scowling, he steps away and howls his growing frustration at the sky. There must be a way in without risking damage to the parts!
But how, exactly, does he even know there are parts here?
spacious room metal jaeger
hangar
ruined chunks of armor an arm a leg the empty shell of the conn-pod, torn through by ten-foot teeth
oblivion
Now this, he cannot ignore. These thoughts are from the hivemind, but they are too simplistic. Too small.
"PARTS."
No, but this is bothering him, and the tiny voice is only growing louder, projecting its distress where no one can hear it but him (the distress is his own and he wants to cry but what are tears?).
"Gather what you can, you silly beast. Now."
So the Masters order, so he must obey.
Maybe the top (roof) will have a way to see in? Temporarily consoled, he rears back and takes to the sky.
No such luck, he mourns. The roof is as solid as the rest of it. Wings fold and the surface creaks as it takes his weight. To his dismay, it caves, and he tumbles into the building with a squeal of shock and terror.
stop, he hears. don't.
He hits the ground with a great thud, pain racing through his limbs as his head collides with (concrete) more of the surface from outside. He blinks rapidly, fighting for the return of his stolen air while coughing out the lungfuls of dust he receives instead.
Parts, he thinks, and raises his head.
Dozens of little humans stare from where they've been scattered about, some dazed as he is and some not moving at all. Chunks of roof are still falling, he notes with chagrin. They crush machinery and people beneath them, and he almost feels a pang of pity but changes his mind. They've killed his kin, he reminds himself.
Jaeger parts.
There they are, laid out on pallets as though just for him. A thin red arm, he sees, is damaged by his fall, but he thinks it's okay. His tail scoops it up and pushes it deep into the pouch the Masters installed; it digs uncomfortably into his soft underbelly. There is a collective shriek of protest from the little creatures, easily ignorable but unsettling all the same, as he roams around the room in search of machines the right size to steal. He must be quick, he knows, before they come out of their shock and rally against him. He keeps an eye on them while his tail picks things up and weighs them, tucking them away if it's deemed useful.
nono no no no NO
Human, he realizes suddenly. The tiny voice is a human, in his hivemind. A part of him. Such a weak and pathetic beast has somehow settled into the kaiju bond. And that voice is here.
He whips around, listening intently, while his tail continues to work. A soft growl crawls out of his throat. How does one deal with an intruder that really isn't? How, he wonders, do you handle a human embedded so deeply into your own being? Surely there's no precedent for this.
help, he hears. help me.
please.
Oh, how he wants to help. How he wants to shut it up, lock it away. His gaze swings over the room, noting and rejecting all the faces as strangers. Where, then, is his little charge?
He is distracted by a loud sound from the other side of the room. Suddenly the whole area is devoid of humans, everywhere but there.
Jaeger.
It looks odd, he decides, all skinny and silver. The Jaeger looks starved, like everything has been taken away and it is so painfully defenseless he almost wants to let it die on its own. But it is here to stop him, and he can't allow it to get in the way of his hunt for the hum-
for the parts. His hunt for the parts, which this pitiful thing is trying to interrupt and the Masters are quite curiously silent.
The Jaeger rocks backwards, movements a touch jerky, and the hivemind alerts him a split second before it lurches forward with a fist cocked.
He reels back, but not quick enough; the Jaeger's fist collides with his shoulder and it's a lot stronger than it looks, but so is he. Machinery abandoned, his tail whips around and slams into his opponent's ribcage. The thing staggers, grabbing at the appendage and yanking. His whole body jerks, thrown off balance and he roars in pain and fury.
"Kill it!" he hears, and it's not the voice of the Masters. It's the voice of a human, and his own little one's conscience is whispering a translation into his ear. His stomach drops.
Kill it.
He pays for his momentary distraction dearly, in the form of the Jaeger shoving him onto his side and getting a grip on a wing bone while he squirms. It pulls, and he screams.
**8**
Newt wakes to the sound of his own raw screaming and the taste of copper in the back of his throat. He swallows, forcing the bile down. He can still feel the pain of the dislocated joint, damage to a limb he doesn't have. He senses it somewhere above his shoulder blades, intangible but present all the same.
Is it a good idea to drink something right now? Probably not, since his stomach is still rolling, but Newt sits up and reaches for the bottle of water on his night stand anyways. The sheets are damp with sweat and a little bit of blood, sticking to his skin as he moves. He ignores this, sticking a corner up his nose and sighing. What a weird dream.
The longer Newt sits there, the more aches and sudden sharp pains make themselves known all over his body. He feels like he went ten rounds with a bottle of vodka, lost miserably, and keeps getting back up. He fumbles for his glasses so he can get up, walk it off, and maybe change his sheets if he decides to go back to bed. His clock reads 4 pm.
Kill it, he hears, and drops to his knees as a Jaeger buries its fist into his stomach. He chokes, gags, bites his tongue until it bleeds and when he pulls his arms away from his gut he's spitting red and breathing through the pain. That, that was not normal. That wasn't - no.
Newt lifts his shirt up and stares at the dark red mark forming. It's as if someone really punched him. He closes his eyes and thinks, okay, this could be cool. Let's try something new.