Canon Note: Guillermo del Toro reported that Matador Fury's pilots were prisoners, repeatedly given a promise by the Mexican government that they would earn their freedom if they piloted Mexico's Jaeger "one more time." Travis Beacham further blogged that even so, the two Mexican Rangers were not actually "criminals." This chapter contains my conclusions from these intriguing tidbits, but I've deliberately left some aspects vague.
Author's Notes: This chapter also contains blunt portrayal of bigotry and injustice, but I want to make clear that innocent people can be imprisoned by their government in many countries for having the nerve to teach or learn - including here in America. History backs that all the way to Socrates. Kennedy LaRue's personal history in this fic is my own invention, but Mexico's aid to the US after Hurricane Katrina isn't - it was the first time Mexican Armed Forces had operated on US soil since World War II.
Character Notes: If Yancy's motives in this chapter seem a bit confusing, that's because Yancy himself is a bit confused. Also, just a reminder: this story is Gen. All non-canon relationships are casual.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Maestro
Los Angeles Shatterdome…
Late January 2018…
After the January engagement, it was Musical Shatterdomes for the Jaeger Program again, as the irreverent called it. Romeo Blue swapped places with Yankee Star, partly to get yet another refit to their reactor, but also to put Yankee and her pilots back on their home turf with their tried and true partner.
"There's public pressure at work in stationing you," Carolina explained as she and Brady Harris briefed the four pilots. "Mexico wants Matador on their soil, but having him launch ready so far from a Shatterdome is a problem. So for now, he's coming to Los Angeles with you."
"Why don't they add a Dome in Mexico?" asked Raleigh. "They've sure got enough coastal cities to worry about."
Carolina's voice took on a rare, snide tone. "They want one. But even after Cabo, and the impact on the coastal economies, some within my ancestral country's government aren't willing to cede the control that the PPDC requires." She leaned towards them. "For their Rangers' sake, I'm glad."
Raleigh and Yancy looked at each other, as did Caleb and Tanisha. "We heard about that," Tani said. "They were prisoners. So were some of the other recruits."
Caleb mused, "I thought it was a little weird, when we met 'em in Anchorage. They're real educated. College educated."
"Marshall Pentecost wanted to get them all amnesty, we heard," Yancy said, lowering his voice.
Carolina nodded. "Be very careful, my boys. And you two. Stacker Pentecost is a good man, with good judgment. This isn't just a delicate matter because of public relations and politics. Kaiju aren't the only threat to some of your fellow Rangers."
"What can we do?"
"A year ago, you four were the untried ones, being advised by the experienced teams. Now you've looked the devil in the eye – all four of his eyes," Brady smiled. "Teach them what you taught each other. Teach them what you've been taught and what you've learned. You four are very different people, but when it counted, you got the job done. I don't think there's any reason any team on Earth can't learn to work with another. No matter what anyone says, the enemy here will always be the kaiju."
Even so, Yancy wasn't at all sure what to make of the situation, and the shadow of threat that seemed to be hovering over their newly-arrived colleagues.
What did that imply about how they'd come to be imprisoned in Mexico for untold years? Nothing good. In a way, it was an alternative far worse than if these two Rangers actually had been criminals. At least then, it was just the two Rangers, here in front of him, that he might have to worry about.
Having learned from their previous mistakes, Team Gipsy and Team Yankee started training with Team Matador with drills and sparring rather than jumping straight into the simulator. Those first few days in late January were interesting, everyone sizing each other up again.
Where Raleigh and Yancy were among the youngest Rangers, Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno were the two oldest, both nearly forty. They were quiet and serious, but didn't have quite the standoffish vibe that Yancy had gotten at first from Caleb and Tanisha. They were articulate in English and Spanish, and Andrés impressed Raleigh with his knowledge of war history. Like a lot of the elder members of the Jaeger Program, they seemed to alternate between finding Raleigh's energy endearing and exhausting.
Rationally, Yancy knew that being well-spoken and well-mannered didn't mean somebody wasn't capable of committing crime… but even the members of the crew who were far more worldly than him or Raleigh seemed to be getting a vibe from Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno – a good vibe.
That was really disturbing.
"Isn't there anything we can do?" he asked Carolina shortly after Team Matador arrived.
"At this moment? No." She smiled and cupped his cheek like he was a kid. If they'd been in public, he'd have been mortified, but in private, he could admit he kind of liked it. "I know it bothers you, muchacho. That you care only reflects well on you and Raleigh. But there are steps being taken, and you must focus on your job – the threat coming out of the Breach. Don't let yourself be distracted."
So, as when he or Raleigh caught themselves drifting off target, they refocused their attention. And Yancy tried not to notice the way Daniel and Andrés sometimes eyed the fence around the Shatterdome and the people who crowded around it whenever they drilled outside. He told himself he was imagining the haunted look he sometimes saw in their eyes. After all, Tani and Caleb sometimes got that way; if Daniel and Andrés had been in the military, maybe they'd been in combat too.
It was quite a while before anybody got up the courage to ask.
February 2018…
Stacker wasn't surprised by the reports that came out of Los Angeles once Matador was installed. "Training is going far more smoothly from the start than it did with Gipsy and Yankee. Matador's pilots aren't interested in being in charge, though they certainly have impressive skill," Marshall Ramirez told him.
"I didn't think we'd have personality trouble with Team Yankee. How are the Beckets interacting with them?"
"They've heard the rumors. I think D'onofrio or Lightcap gave them some opinions, or maybe Olivares. Raleigh seems to like them; Yancy is a little more cautious. He'd probably like them more if his brother didn't like them so much."
"Alcazar is a war historian, isn't he? Has he seen the Beckets' map?"
"He has. That was the biggest smile I've ever seen from him. He had Raleigh absolutely enthralled, filling him in on Mexico's World War II involvement; that's not something most American schools teach. Raleigh drives some of the senior officers crazy, but he mostly tickles Daniel and Andrés. I can tell by the way they watch him. Daniel's been teaching capoeira to the Americans with some of his Brazilian crew. That won a lot of them over."
"Good. The more popular support we have for them, the better." Stacker was getting frustrated. He had nearly two dozen capable, trained recruits from 2017 who were stuck in limbo because Mexico would only consider clemency to the ones who made Ranger Ready.
"If you weren't prepared to give them to us, why'd you release them in the first place?!" Herc Hansen demanded during one of those frustrating conference calls.
"We agreed to let you train potential pilots of the Jaeger that we funded," Mexico's liaison retorted. "You are the ones trying to renege on the agreement by not returning the ones who failed. They all still have a sentence to serve."
"So let them serve it for all humanity," Admiral Yamamoto wheedled.
That same exchange was going round and round for weeks, then months after Matador Fury's launch. The UN didn't want to alienate Mexico entirely by overruling them on the subject of their citizens, but Mexico didn't want to risk its entire shoreline by destroying the cooperation of the PPDC and trying to publicly force the men's return. "What does it say about them that they had to raid their prison population to get drift compatible candidates?" Tamsin observed when Stacker told her about it.
It was all so much more complicated than good guys and bad guys, good cops and bad cops; Stacker knew that. But did it have to be so complicated when the ultimate bad guy was coming out of the Pacific Ocean every three to four months and smashing everything?
The breakthrough came from the last place any of the senior officials expected… but later on, Stacker wondered if he should have expected just that.
The human race had come together, setting aside old rivalries and pooling their resources... but only to a point. The leadership might have mostly prioritized the greater good, but within the general population (and the media) old rivalries and quarrels were still very much alive.
"Even in the Jaeger Program, we're still carrying Latin America's dead weight!" a bombastic right-wing pundit ranted. "So-called Matador Fury is parked in our Shatterdome, using our resources and our support staff, getting trained by our Rangers. Have they offered to cover their own coastline with their own troops? No. They funded the construction of that multi-billion dollar monster with money borrowed from our banks! And there they are, a couple of Mexicans with shady pasts, hanging out on our military base teaching Spanish and their damn Latin dance-fighting to our officers!"
"Why is Hydra Corinthian assigned to Panama City? Can't we have American Rangers defending American soil?" another bellowed.
It was actually Ranger LaRue who was the first one to challenge the xenophobes from her home country. "Kaiju don't notice national borders, and neither do Rangers. I feel the same duty to defend the people of Central America that I do for the United States, Asia, or Australia."
"But do foreign Rangers feel the same about America?" the reporter pressed.
The young woman's eyes narrowed. "Did you know I was born in New Orleans? The first rescue workers who reached my family after Hurricane Katrina were Mexican, not American."
Well done, Miss LaRue. Of course, that wouldn't get through to anyone who didn't want to hear it. Bigotry and xenophobia couldn't be overcome by either facts or sentiment, however powerful. The worst of the blowhards in the US media promptly dismissed Kennedy's remarks as "air-headed liberal parroting by a black lesbian cheerleader who went from the New Orleans projects to some hipster commune in Seattle."
However, word was getting around the Shatterdomes, and the ire of the other Rangers was rising. Whatever external challenges - and prejudices - they faced, Stacker's hopes for a community of mutual respect and protection among the Rangers were very much coming to fruition.
It came to a head early in the spring. The usual crowds had gathered around the Los Angeles Shatterdome to watch Matador doing a deployment drill. His sister Jaegers were out of sight, but their four pilots were on the edge of the grounds chatting with local children and occasionally fielding questions from reporters, also as usual.
Yancy Becket and Tanisha Davis were demonstrating the Bushido drills, while Raleigh and Caleb were narrating and explaining the exercises to a small army of grade schoolers - Caleb in English and Raleigh in passable Spanish. "You speak Spanish very well," a teacher said to Raleigh admiringly.
"Gracias!"
"Have you been learning it from Matador's pilots?" a reporter asked. Nobody missed the snide tone.
One of the children's chaperones said quickly, "I don't think so. Ranger Becket's using European grammar, not Latin American. Spanish-Spanish, you could say."
"We spent almost a year there when we were kids," said Yancy without breaking the rhythm of the drills. "Raleigh's got the mad language skills in our family. He picks 'em all up fast."
"I took it in high school too. I like learning languages."
Just then, an order came through some of the radios in earshot from LA's LOCCENT - in Spanish. "Do Matador's Rangers speak any English here in America?" sneered another reporter from some Fox subsidiary.
"Their English is perfect." The edge in Raleigh's voice was unmistakable, but for the professional agitator paparazzi, it was blood in the water.
Yancy and Tanisha had the sense not to show alarm, but concluded their spar and strolled with deceptive casualness towards the scene. "Our turn, Rals," murmured Caleb.
The youngest Ranger didn't move, eyes locked on the reporters as the teachers made ready to pull the kids out of the way. Watching the broadcast, Stacker could imagine someone (possibly Tamsin) shouting, Danger, Will Robinson!
The aggressive pseudo-journalists pressed on: "Why is it that out of all the Jaegers, Matador Fury is using the most resources from other countries? Shouldn't a country with as big a coastline as Mexico be contributing more people and funds if they want us to protect them?"
"Jaeger Program support crews come from all over the world," Raleigh shot back, eyes flashing. "And there are actually over a dozen qualified officers who could be on Matador's support crew from Mexico if the work visa situation could get straightened out. Dunno if it's their immigration issue or ours, but it'd be nice if it could get straightened out before the next attack!"
That generated a lot of confusion among the media, followed by a lot of digging... and with their backs against the wall, Mexican Immigration finally signed off on the release for the recruits who'd failed the Academy cut to become PPDC officers.
Caitlin Lightcap crowed about wisdom from the mouths of babes, which drove Stacker mad. None of the Rangers were children, not even Raleigh Becket.
Tamsin sent him an amused email that evening. How I feel for Yancy Becket. Keeping that headstrong boy reined in must be a full-time job.
Los Angeles Shatterdome…
March 2018…
After Team Matador had been on-base for about six weeks, Yancy's tension level finally got unbearable, and he decided he had to do something about it.
He timed his own move for when Raleigh was at the beach with a bunch of Team Gipsy's crew. The angel of his better nature warned him that Raleigh would not be pleased, but he shoved it aside. This was a long-overdue conversation.
He found Andrés and Daniel in the Kwoon, sparring with a combination of capoeira and kickboxing rather than Jaeger Bushido. They nodded to him and finished, but he made no move to join in. The knowing look they exchanged then was the same as what would pass between any other pair of Rangers. "Is something on your mind, Ranger Becket?"
"Just seeing what I can learn," Yancy deadpanned.
That got a faint smile from Andrés, and they didn't resume their match. "Raleigh doesn't try to hide what he thinks."
"No." He hasn't figured out that sometimes it's a good idea.
Daniel picked up his water bottle and observed, "You try, but I'm afraid you're not very good at it." He took a swig, but beckoned with his free hand as if inviting Yancy to attack in a spar.
What could he say that wouldn't sound ridiculous? I don't like you impressing my kid brother with Mexican war history? Quit being so polite and complimentary during training? I don't actually think you're up to something but I still don't want you to get too close?
His face was starting to get hot. He really hadn't thought this through. Now Raleigh was going to see it in the drift and be pissed - with justification. What was Yance's problem?
"You don't have to worry about us," Daniel told him.
Yancy sighed and went for a hanbō, starting drills just for something physical to do. "I'm actually not," he admitted. "I don't think you're up to something." I'm just a whackjob who gets bent out of shape when anyone who isn't me mentors my brother.
To his surprise, both older men seemed to understand. "You've always been responsible for him. That's a hard habit to break." Andrés met him in slow motion, unarmed, but still scored the first hit.
"You have brothers?"
"Not anymore." Yancy winced and backed out of the spar. Serves me right for asking. "It has been a long time. Come," said Andrés. Yancy reluctantly returned, but his heart was incredibly not in it. I don't even know what it is I'm so scared of.
After winning three rounds in a row - four hits to zero - Andrés gave up and just sat down on the edge of the mat while Yancy paced. Daniel watched. "We know word gets around. Some of the rumors are true."
"Which ones?" He studied the concrete walls, imagining not a gym, but a prison. "The ones where you're all here under duress?"
That was the idea that had Raleigh the most worked up: that Matador's pilots and the other former prisoners had been forced into the Jaeger Program, turning fighting kaiju into some kind of half-assed Hunger Games. Appalling for sure, that the position of Ranger could be used as a tool of oppression, but Yancy also considered the converse: that all the other jockeys in this fight would be at risk if their back-up wasn't here by choice.
But Daniel and Andrés were shaking their heads. "To pilot Jaegers is the greatest honor either of us have ever been given," said Andrés. "It's a joy, driving Matador. Not easy, no, but I don't think you would call it easy to pilot your Gipsy."
With a weak smile, Yancy shook his head. "I doubt I'd love it so much if it was easy."
That was what it all boiled down to, wasn't it? Maybe just pride, that two guys dismissed as no-accounts and also-rans had succeeded where thousands of star athletes and valedictorians had failed. They could control the greatest, most dangerous and complex weapons ever invented by human hands and killed the greatest monster ever seen in human history. It was dangerous, it was painful, it was scary... but they'd done it.
People call us heroes. We can save the world.
"Some men back home believe they have us under duress," Daniel mused. "We don't mind letting them think so. It's one more protection for the few hostages we have left."
"Hostages?" Yancy's blood ran cold.
"When power is at stake, entire towns can become hostages. The quest for power doesn't stop, not even now with monsters in our midst. For some people, K-Day was only an opportunity."
Yancy leaned against the wall, waffling back and forth over whether it was absolutely necessary or absolutely heartless to ask the question, and finally decided there was nothing for it. "What were you before? What'd you do?"
"The most dangerous things in the world: writing and teaching. History and law are even more threatening weapons than Jaegers to some people."
A part of Yancy supposed that he had no reason to take these men at their word. The story was like a movie cliché... but all clichés started somewhere, as Raleigh liked to point out. And it certainly fit with the facts and the attitudes he'd seen from the others. The bigots in the US could assume that they were a bunch of drug lords, and maybe Godfather types could be as articulate and engaging as Daniel and Andrés... but Yancy wanted to think that the whole damn Jaeger Program wasn't so collectively gullible.
"Getting the other officers assigned... did that help or make it worse?"
"It helped." Andrés chuckled. "Your brother's an impulsive boy, but we're all grateful."
"Are they your family?"
"No, there's no blood family left for either of us." Jesus. "But they're friends, some we only met recently, but who all were locked away for similar reasons."
This was scary as fuck. "Is the whole government corrupt down there?"
"No, not at all. But there are corrupt and powerful factions in every country, and challenging them can be dangerous." Daniel gave him a smile that finally looked a little calculating, but it didn't bother Yancy much. "From here? Standing in the shadow of our Jaegers before the eyes of the world? It will be different. And in the process, we can still protect our homes."
He felt like a complete idiot. "You know Raleigh's going to see all this."
"Of course. You're drift partners. We wouldn't have told you if we didn't want him to know." Yancy raised an eyebrow, and the older men shrugged in unison. "He's not the most discreet, but we do owe him for the risk he took. We will take the risk to trust him - and you - with the truth."
Pride shimmered to life at that, not for himself but for his headstrong, temperamental kid brother who was so easily ruled by his heart instead of his head, but would pick principle as his guide every time no matter the risk. So much of the objective data labeled Yancy Becket as the "better pilot." But maybe Raleigh Becket was the reason they could be called heroes.
On the other hand, Yancy would now have to explain this conversation the next time they drifted. "He's gonna be pissed at me for talking to you like this," he admitted.
That got him a matched pair of knowing grins. "Then don't wait for the drift to make your confession." Andrés gestured to the clock. "Kaiju wait for no man."
Yancy had to laugh.
The weather was perfect, and the beach was crowded. In Anchorage, people would still be wearing snow boots. Not that Yancy and Raleigh hadn't spent plenty of winters in warm climates, traveling with Dad's jobs when they were younger, but there was a real mystique about California that was hard to resist.
Rumor had it that the Gage twins could find each other in the woods blindfolded thanks to the drift. The pair did seem to have an uncanny awareness of each other even days after their most recent handshake. On a whim, Yancy tried it once he found the small flock of Jeeps and Hummers that had been checked out from the base.
The results of that experiment were inconclusive; he couldn't be sure whether he was sensing Raleigh or just very aware of the place Raleigh would be most likely to hang around - namely, with the crowd of bikini-clad women playing beach volleyball.
Tendo spotted him first and yelled; Raleigh turned around and grinned like the sun coming out. "Look who finally dragged himself out of his cave!"
"Come help us, man, it's Team Gipsy against the world!" urged Antwan.
"I suck at volleyball," he laughed.
"So do the rest of us; you'll fit right in. Come on!" Nicola Harris moved to haul him into their eleven-person formation against about twenty people on the other side of the net. Yancy didn't know a lot about volleyball, but was pretty sure they weren't following any Olympic-sanctioned variation.
And only after he missed a shot did he discover there was a penalty: being dunked into the ocean by your own team. Oh, well.
By the time the sun went down, Team Gipsy had a disgraceful point deficit, and Tendo was convinced that Nicola Harris was missing shots on purpose because she was enjoying getting thrown over Raleigh's shoulder for her penalty dunking. "He better watch it, though - he does know she's Brady's niece, right?"
"Cousin, twice-removed or something like that," said Brandon Pines, digging around in their cooler to see what drinks were left. "They're cute. Whiskey Gamma approves. What've you been up to all day?"
"Relaxing. You whippersnappers work too hard at having fun," Yancy replied, sprawling on the sand. "Well, this isn't bad. Maybe I'll try sunbathing next time."
"First time you fell asleep? Brother, I can't even imagine what Rals would do with the suntan lotion," said Tendo.
"No kidding. I'd have to hire a bodyguard."
Raleigh now had Nikki on his shoulders, playing chicken with another boy and girl in the surf. You could almost imagine there were no kaiju, thought Yancy.
He didn't recognize the other couple; they weren't wearing dog tags, so they weren't from the base. College kids? Locals, vacationers on spring break, maybe? Would that be us if we weren't Rangers?
A wave of melancholy went through him completely at odds with the happy scene, and Raleigh suddenly turned and looked at him. His inattention got Nikki knocked into the water, and for a few minutes, he and his playmates were preoccupied with fishing her out.
"It's gonna be really embarrassing for this crew if one of you drowns," Tendo yelled at them as they came back up the sand.
"Not my fault he's got no balance!" Nicola protested. "Besides, we got our lifeguard." She pointed at Antwan, who did seem to be on the constant lookout.
"Someone has to make sure these Alaskan polar bears survive down here," the Jamaican shouted over his shoulder. He eyed the beach patrol and observed, "They'll be running us off as soon as it's dark."
"Aww, we've got leave 'till eleven!" Raleigh whined, and Nikki and some of the others joined him.
"Come on, come on, people recognize us, let's set a good example," Yancy urged. He joined Antwan and Brandon and the fuddy-duddies among Team Gipsy in rounding up the rest of the crew, getting appreciative mutters from the cops.
"Hey, none of us are drunk," Raleigh pointed out, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "It's been good wholesome water sports all day. You should've come earlier."
"I like my peace and quiet, and my air conditioning," Yancy replied. To his relief, Raleigh had definitely sensed something was on his mind, and he waved Nikki and Tendo off to one of the other cars.
"What's going on?" his brother asked once they were driving. Yancy swallowed and stared at the road. "Yancy, what's wrong?"
"Nothing... nothing major, just... " He pulled them over at the entrance to one of the parks that had closed at sunset and got out. Just get out with it, dumbass, you're freaking him out, and it's your own fault. "I needed to tell you before we drift, I kinda got into it with Daniel and Andrés today," he explained in a rush.
Raleigh froze, the passenger side door still half-way closed. "What?!"
"I mean - not a fight. Not even an argument, really." For what that was worth. He sighed. Why was he doing this? Because if he sees it in the drift - and he will - it'll be a fight then, and we can't afford that. So we have to talk about everything, like the therapy session that never ends. It was a choice between talking it out now in semi-private, or talking it out with the psych team breathing down their necks. "It was about you," he mumbled. He didn't even have to look up to sense his brother's change from confusion to wariness. "I didn't... I thought they were trying to influence you."
Sort of. Actually, I didn't even think they were trying to, just that they were.
A long, painful silence followed, and when Raleigh finally broke it, his tone made Yancy cringe. "Sometimes I do not have a clue what's going on in your head, Yance, and by now, that's kind of weird. Do you seriously buy that Fox News bullshit about them being drug kingpins?"
"No! No, nothing like that. It's what everyone with a brain smelled from the beginning: a political thing. Andrés is a historian... I think Daniel's a lawyer, actually. Or a law professor. They pissed off somebody powerful and got shoved into jail to shut them up."
Although Raleigh had been gnawing at the gossip like a dog with a bone for weeks trying to figure it out, he seemed barely interested now. "So what was today about?"
This was so damn embarrassing. "You," he muttered. At the exasperated huff, he sighed, trying to hold off a reaction he knew he deserved. "Don't be mad."
"I'm not mad, I just don't get what you're talking about!" For someone not mad, Raleigh's voice was rising. "After everything, you still think I don't know how to take care of myself?!"
When he put it like that, Yancy felt like even more of an ass. "No. I know you can. You proved it a long time ago."
"Then what's the problem with..." Raleigh trailed off, and Yancy could almost see him running his mind over his own interactions with Andrés and Daniel, now measuring Yancy's reactions. "Yance?"
"Yeah. That's what you'll see in the drift, me being an insecure idiot, making a fool of myself. Surprised they didn't laugh in my face."
"You mean you're..."
Was it really such a stretch of the imagination? Then Yancy pondered their history, everything he'd seen in the drift from Raleigh's perspective and even his own, and his heart sank. Maybe it really was astonishing for Raleigh to hear anyone suggest that Yancy was the insecure one. Let alone that Yancy would be jealous.
Yancy Becket was the accomplished brother, the one with the higher grades, the sports skills, the natural pilot. They both knew the entire litany. Yancy tried not to lord it over his brother, but... that awareness had been there in both of them, even before they'd ever heard of drifting. And Yancy was supposedly the confident one, the strong one, the clear-headed one.
Almost two years in, the damn drift is still teaching us lessons about all the things I'm really not... except maybe a phony.
Worst of all was the way Raleigh's voice changed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't," he almost exploded, and felt his brother flinch. SHIT. "You're not the one who's supposed to apologize! I'm the one being stupid."
"Maybe." Raleigh's hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Yancy covered it with his own, glad it was dark so his brother couldn't see the look on his face. "Or maybe I just assume too much. That you know stuff because we drift, and I don't have to tell you." He gave a ragged laugh. "Maybe those damn psychs actually do have the right idea when they keep telling us to talk about stuff."
Laughter burst out of Yancy too, but it eased the knot in his chest, and he let Raleigh pull him into a hug.
They managed not to chase that rabbit during the next drift, but what did flow through it was their shared awareness of where questions like that did come from. Inside our own heads, not each other's. Raleigh had it too, that deep, gnawing fear of loss that obeyed no rational knowledge or emotional reassurances.
It really wasn't fair that even drifting couldn't completely wipe it out.
To be continued...
Chapter Twenty-Eight: All a nineteen-year-old guy wants is some uncomplicated fun in Los Angeles. But nothing's uncomplicated when you're a Ranger in the spotlight of the world, as Raleigh is still discovering the hard way in Chapter Twenty-Eight: Something To Talk About!
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Original Character Guide
Tanisha Davis and Caleb Mitchell: The pilots of Yankee Star, America's Mark-2 Jaeger. Former US Marines, late 20s. Tanisha is African-American from south central Los Angeles, while Caleb is white from a small, rural town in central Oklahoma.
Brady Harris: Yankee Star's Public Relations Representative. Late 30s, African-American from San Diego.
Carolina Olivares: Gipsy Danger's Public Relations Representative. Mid-60s, Mexican-American from San Francisco, survived K-Day and came out of retirement to join the PPDC.
Antwan Ferrier: Gipsy Danger Personnel Coordinator, directs Whiskey Gamma, a team of Strike Troopers. Age 39, Jamaican national.
Brandon Pines: Support chopper pilot for team Whiskey Gamma, one of Gipsy Danger's four strike trooper teams, early 30s from Monterey, CA, transferred from the US Air Force.
Nicola Harris: Rescue/recovery EMT with Whiskey Gamma, age 21 from San Diego, CA, daughter of Brady Harris's cousin and a Guatemalan immigrant.
Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno: Matador Fury's Rangers, Mexican nationals, age 39. Andrés was a historian and Daniel was a lawyer, both writing and working against institutional corruption before imprisoned for an unknown period. They were released along with other non-violent prisoners to attempt the Jaeger Academy, but have not yet been granted a pardon.
Marshall Ana Ramirez: commanding officer of the Los Angeles Shatterdome, Mexican-American, mid-40s, formerly a US Army Lieutenant Colonel
Admiral Daichi Yamamoto: commanding officer of the Tokyo Shatterdome, Japanese naval admiral, mid-50s.