Warnings: Language, Kaiju Violence
For the next week, Carter kept herself scarce. Jack knocked on her door every day at varying times, but she remained behind closed doors. He tried to convince himself that her seclusion had nothing to do with their talk on the catwalk, but as each day passed the kernel of doubt planted by her reluctance to pilot again worked its way deeper into Jack's consciousness. He distracted himself by working in the kwoon with Teal'c and Team Manhattan.
"What did Pentecost have to say?" Ferretti asked during one of their sparring breaks. "About the thing with you and Hanson?"
"Mark in my record. Verbal reprimand," Jack panted, taking a swig of water. Manhattan's team had found their to Jack's good graces since their defense of Sam outside LOCCENT. Ferretti's amiability in particular eased the dread niggling at the back of his mind each day Carter remained secluded. Both he and Kowalsky seemed to have come to their senses where Hanson was concerned. Jack hadn't seen them with him once since that day.
"Hanson was griping about that to anyone who would listen. Rumor is he got the same. Plus a broken arm." Lou gave him a curious look. "What the hell happened?"
"He knows," Jack growled. "Bastard deserved more than that."
Lou stared, but ultimately decided he wasn't going to get any more details. "That's all fine, I guess. But did you have to break his arm? He won't stop whining about it to anyone within a five meter radius."
Jack shrugged. "Not my problem." The base had gladly listened when Jonas was talking shit about Carter. They could stand to listen to his bitch-ass complaining too.
"All I meant was, couldn't you have busted his jaw instead?" Silence met Lou's attempt at a joke. He took another swallow of water. "You've sure changed your tune, haven't you?"
"Now that my career doesn't hinge on Hanson deigning to pilot with me? Yeah, you could say that. The guy is a bastard, and a bully." And much worse. He didn't deserve to be breathing the same air as Carter, let alone use it to publicly defame her. Jack forced himself to abandon his darkening thoughts when he noticed Ferretti's curious stare. "Let's go again."
"Sure," Ferretti agreed easily. He dropped his towel on the mat, and joined Jack back in the ring. "Just try not to break my arm-"
The shrill alarm of imminent attack interrupted his joke. They both stopped where they were, waiting for the deployment assignment. The familiar sense of mingled dread and excitement washed over Jack, a feeling he saw mirrored in Ferretti's anticipatory expression. The sensation seemed unique to Jaeger pilots: the gravity of a kaiju attack, and the destruction and casualties it would inevitably inflict, coupled with the addictive thrill of moving a Jaeger all rolled into one singular sensation. Jack hoped that Banshee was still on the roster.
"Breach anomaly detected," a mechanically female voice announced over the basewide communications. "Belladonna Banshee, please report to Bay 3."
Jack grinned, and shot an apologetic glance to Ferretti, who shrugged. "Can't say I'm surprised, after Multo. Go kick ass, man."
"Double event detected," the voice added, filling the kwoon with its tinny sound. "Manhattan Bombshell, please report to Bay 5."
Ferretti's face broke into a wide grin. "Right on!"
They bumped fists before Jack gathered his towel and water and bolted from the kwoon. He sneaked a brief shower in before heading to Bay 3's prep room. When he entered, he was greeted by the sight of Carter halfway suited up, technicians moving around her as they began attaching the armor plating to the circuitry layer.
"You're late," she called. The smirk she sent his way blunted the accusation. Jack grinned back, the tight ball of dread loosening. They were back in action.
"Sorry about that, ma'am." He quickly stripped to his skivvies and stepped into the circuitry layer that LCpl Anwar held open for and the rest of his technicians soon swarmed around him as well, efficiently preparing him for the drop. He raised himself up onto his tiptoes to meet her eyes over their heads. "I knocked at your door. When you didn't answer, I thought…"
"I've been helping with some of the repairs on Manhattan," she explained. Then she paused. "Do you even know which bunk is mine?"
Jack swallowed. "Um… Red 23? Over in East block?"
Sam's eyes sparkled with mirth as she shook her head. "I moved to the engineering barracks when I switched tracks. Blue 66. As far as I know, they never filled my old bunk."
Jack froze. "You mean… I've been knocking on an empty room all week?"
Sam giggled, and nodded. "'Fraid so."
Jack feigned annoyance, but soon lapsed into a grin of his own. "Should have figured you were in one of the bays anyway. It is where we seem to find each other, isn't it?"
"I guess so."
They finished suiting up in companionable silence, and soon walked shoulder to shoulder down the corridor to Banshee's connpod. As they neared the hatch, Jack's muscles tightened in anticipation, just waiting for Jonas to pop out from behind the next corner. He almost wished he would, just to have an excuse to beat the guy to death. But the man waiting for them at the end of the corridor wasn't Jonas, but Marshal Pentecost himself.
Jack and Sam slowed to stand at attention. The Marshal's gaze flickered between the two of them briefly before narrowing on Sam. "Are you okay with this?" he asked solemnly. If she needed an out, this was it. There wasn't an ounce of doubt in his voice, nothing to suggest he believed her less than capable in her ability to pilot, but if she took it, the Marshal would honor it.
"Yes, sir," she replied, voice strong and sure. Jack wondered which man she was speaking to- her commanding officer, or someone who cared for her. Pentecost seemed to share the same concern. He stepped closer, softening perceptibly.
"I'm not asking as your commander, Sam. Are you sure you want this?"
To her credit, Carter didn't hesitate. "I'm sure," she said, this time meeting his eyes directly. A soft smile served as added reassurance.
Pentecost searched her gaze, and finally nodded. "We'll keep the control room down to essential personnel." His unspoken meaning was clear. Hanson would not be making a reappearance.
Carter shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me, Marshal." Her gaze traveled to Jack, who gave a solemn nod. After their trip down the RABIT-hole, Hanson would be hard-pressed to find something else that packed the same punch. Still, keeping Bella a safe space for Carter felt right. It could be a place for just for them. Just her, him, and the drift.
After a long moment, Pentecost's features softened as they focused on Sam alone. Jack froze, suddenly feeling very much like a voyeur as the Marshal extended his hand to cup Sam's cheek. "I'm proud of you, Sam."
Carter's eyes shone, her cheeks flushing with pride and adoration. "Thank you, Marshal," she whispered.
Finally, he stepped back with a nod. "Proceed to your posts, Banshee. Godspeed."
Carter's confidence lasted until they reached the connpod. In front of the hatch she paused. Jack saw her weariness plainly; the physical toll of chasing the RABIT mere days ago was strain enough, but the emotional toll worried him more. Her eyes were dry, her tears spent, but there was no denying that she wasn't quite right yet. Jack's breath hitched nervously. Maybe they should have taken the Marshal up on his offer. As soon as he thought it, Jack dismissed the idea. Not even Manhattan could face a double event alone.
Carter beat him to the punch. "Let's go."
Once inside, there was no hesitation. They moved to their places and strapped in, waiting for LOCCENT to cue the neural handshake.
"Smooth and steady as always," Tendo acknowledged. "You are clear to initiate neural handshake, on your mark."
Cater inhaled. "Initiating handshake in 3, 2, 1-mark."
Jack anticipated being the last to calibrate, as he always was, but on Carter's mark he felt a sickening jolt as he was sucked into his thoughts and into a deluge of images, smells, sounds Too many passed in a blur, but some solidified into something recognizable.
He saw Carter's father placing a flower on her mother's gravestone, felt her small hand gripped too tight in Jacob's larger one.
His own mother leaving to get milk, never to return.
They sat on the lap of Sam's father as Marshal Pentecost passed her a Christmas gift. Small fingers unwrapped the gift to reveal a detailed to replica of Brawler Yukon, the same figure that still sat on the ledge above her bunk.
They felt the sickening drop of Jack's stomach when he'd last seen his father, the day he left for the Academy and was told to not bother coming back.
The tears on Sam's cheeks as she pelted towards her father's Jaeger, the cold bite of Pentecost's drivesuit against her cheek when she flung her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Jack saw the Marshal's shell-shocked expression, that of a man whose mind had touched death.
There were no tears on Sam's cheeks when Pentecost bequeathed to her the folded flag of the PPDC at her father's funeral, where she stood between matching headstones.
The heartache shifted briefly to Jack's joy at finding brotherhood among his friends at the Academy- only to face similar loneliness when those friends washed out or graduated without him.
Sam's shock watching Whiskey burn; his struggle to pilot with an incompatible partner. The euphoria of their first fight against Multo. Then finally, the peace of that night in Bella's shadow, the press of their shoulders as Sam allowed him to simply be there with her.
They both spasmed in their harnesses when their minds snapped back into their bodies, but they didn't separate. Their minds remained connected, the other's presence an echo of their own thoughts.
"Whoa," Carter breathed. Her amazement echoed his own, a floaty feeling that made their limbs light. Jack cleared his throat.
"LOCCENT, neural bridge is complete." His voice still cracked.
"No shit," Tendo replied after a heady beat. "Guys, I don't know what the hell you did, but I've never seen numbers like these." He paused. "Ever." Sam and Jack shared a look of mutual feigned indifference.
Sam shrugged. "Nothing like a rabbit hunt to bring two people together," she quipped. "Let's get this show on the road."
"Both signatures have changed headings," Tendo informed them. "Looks like they're going to make landfall in LA."
Jack swallowed a curse. Los Angeles remained one of the largest population centers on the West Coast. Large buildings packed closely together, limited evacuation capability… they had bunkers, but still… No matter what happened out there, people would die.
"Can we beat them there?" Sam asked, her fingers flying to bring up the readouts she needed. If they could beat the kaiju to the Miracle Mile, then they had a chance at preventing any casualties.
Tendo dashed that hope with a brief response. "Negative."
Carter's disappointment coursed through the drift, a wave of grief for the lives about to be lost washing over Jack before it pulled back, replaced by businesslike clarity. "Standing by for tethers."
Jack barely felt the motion when the choppers lifted them up and out of the bay. He sensed Carter deactivate Banshee's response sensors, giving them some room to fidget without having Banshee follow suit. Jack pulled up the news feeds; if the kaiju were going to make landfall first, then there would be no chance of them being surprised in the waves like they had been with Multo.
"Codenames are Baubas and Zhen," Tendo informed them, pulling the sonar images onto their HUDs. Zhen looked far from intimidating. It had a long tail with a vicious stinger on the end of it, not unlike a scorpions, but the broad wings extended to either side gave it the look a manta ray, despite the double row of exoskeletal legs tucked up against its body. Its companion was far more formidable at first glance. Bulbous armor plating ballooned around Baubas' shoulders, sectioned and flexing as the beast swam for the surface. A short horn sat on the tip of its blunted snout, its head seeming to sprout directly from its shoulders without a neck. Long webbed claws propelled it through the water, and as it swam, Jack realized that the most unnatural element of the beast was the opposing joints of its elbows and wrists. It's claws folded in the opposite direction than its elbows. Zhen easily outpaced it out of frame.
"Someone's got a hitch in their giddy-up," Kowalsky commented over their open comms. "Which one strikes your fancy, Banshee?"
Jack looked to Carter who smirked and keyed her own comms. "Nice try, Manhattan. Age before beauty."
Kowalsky chuckled. "It was worth a shot." They keyed off a moment later, leaving the two of them in quiet solitude, with nothing but the thump of the chopper's rotor blades outside the hull to break the silence.
"I don't get it," Jack confessed.
"It's an old San Diego superstition," his partner explained, her hands remaining busy as she checked her systems. "First to call, first to fall."
Jack blinked. "They want us to fall?" Son of a bitch. Over the past week he'd come to like Kowalsky and Ferretti, and now this?
"Relax," Sam assured him. "It's bogus. They were just welcoming me back."
Jack absorbed that information, and all it entailed. It certainly implied she and Manhattan had been tight before May Day. And yet they had bought into Hanson's bull without questioning it even once? Jack found that hard to believe, except… Mitchell had died. Grief could do strange things to people.
"Stop." Carter's voice cut through his dwindling temper. He looked at her, chagrined. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't afford to go there right now. I need a clear head," she told him, her voice betraying her exhaustion. "Let's focus on L.A., okay?"
"Okay," he agreed readily. "Sorry."
A thin smile thanked him. "I know."
The drift was an amazing thing, wasn't it? Though he intended to continue remaining vocal as she'd first requested, he sincerely doubted they needed it. The stories were true; Jack reveled in his own privilege. The deluge of memories had felt like his own; selfishly, he wished they were. Grief and loss featured prominently, but in them Jack sensed that when her father had lived Carter's life had been full of love and laughter. He wondered what she thought about what she'd seen of his own father.
Next to hers spent in the Shatterdome, Jack's life on a farm with a father who cursed him as the reason his mother had walked out, and cursed the government just because, must pale in comparison. His home had been far from the coast, where kaiju were a distant concept, and nutters like his dad could claim that they were a fabrication of the media, designed to keep them cowed into obedience to the federal government who took their food and rationed it back in pieces. If he were honest with himself, Bella's connpod felt more like home than that farm ever had. And Carter felt more like family than his pa ever did.
"I know what you mean," Sam said softly. Jack's gaze flew to her, but she studiously avoided his gaze, focusing instead on prepping Banshee for the drop.
"Baubas has made landfall," Tendo announced. They were only ten minutes out themselves, but they both paused to take a look at the news feed following the kaiju's path of destruction. Baubas looked more ridiculous out of the water than under it; its hindquarters weren't quite strong enough to support its massive trunk, forcing it to move in heavy hopping lunges as it used its front claws to pull itself forward. It looked almost like a defect, but they soon realized the purpose of its strange looking appendages. The news helicopters followed its movement, as it waggled its head left and right, searching for something. Then it paused, staring intently at the ground.
"Shit," Sam cursed. "It's a digger," she realized. "It's going for the-"
"Baubas is digging out the District 5 community shelter!" Tendo called. "It-" As they watched, the pavement cracked and collapsed under just a few powerful strokes of its claws. The awkward bend of its joints efficiently pulled the dirt and rock away while its pointed nose rooted through the debris, seeking its prey.
"Where are the MIGs?" Sam whispered, horrified. She clicked the comm to Tendo. "Where are the goddamn MIGs?!"
As though summoned, the advance flight squadron zoomed through the frame, deploying a barrage of missiles that peppered the beast's hide. The armored plating that had been so unwieldy underwater protected the kaiju. Baubas continued to dig, as though it hadn't even felt the attack.
It was a tank, Jack realized. One with the potential to give Manhattan a run for its money. Banshee would have better luck against it. Banshee was smaller by at least two dozen meters, but she was quick, and had a better chance of landing blows around the armor. Manhattan was limited to blunt force; it's blows would bounce right off those plates. They'd been hoping to hold Banshee in reserve, rather than confirm her increased speed. They may not have the luxury.
"Sam," Jack said, a thought occurring to him. "Is there a way we can limit Banshee's response time? Get us back down to average? Maybe they'll think last time was a fluke. Or at the very least, we can pull it out at the last minute for an ace in the hole if things get dicey."
Blue eyes blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, we can. Good idea." Two good ideas in as many drops. Not too shabby. "It'll take me a minute to…Whoa!" Banshee lurched suddenly as one of the helos lost control. "What the-AUGH!" The helo slammed into their right shoulder in an explosion of fire; its rotary blades sliced into the narrow pocket where the joining cables were exposed. Jack felt the pain, but Sam took the brunt of it, and cried out in pain.
"Sam!" Goddammit. What the hell happened?
"Banshee!" Kowalsky called, fire in his voice. "Zhen took out one of your choppers. Drop! Drop!"
"Disengaging!" Carter called, pushing through the pain to focus on the imminent threat.
Jack tapped his comms. "Manhattan, we've got this! Get Baubas out of the city!" It was all he could get out before his stomach launched into his throat as Banshee dropped. The video feed flipped to footage of their transport, where they watched Zhen's narrow shape slither overhead where their helm had been an instant before. Then they hit ocean floor with a resounding shudder, quickly finding their feet on the bedrock. They were only a little past the mile; immediately they began to move towards the higher ground, keeping one eye on the sensors.
"Sam?!" Jack called, sensing the continuing sizzle of fried systems.
"I'm okay!" she called back, giving her arm an experimental roll. Banshee mimicked the motion, sparking but functional. "We're good!" Alarm jangled through their connection. "It's on our-!"
Zhen slammed into their back, pitching them forward. Banshee could have weathered the hit, but they rolled with the momentum, letting it carry them through the waves towards the mile mark. Their vents sputtered, expelling the seawater that had forced its way through.
"Son of a… Where the hell-"
"There!" They pivoted and caught Zhen by the throat and thorax before it could connect, and heaved it closer to shore. "Cannon loading!" Zhen writhed in the waves and turned to face them. It was longer than the sonar had depicted. Its ray's wings propelled it quickly through the water, making Jack desperately want to find dry land. Trouble was, there was nowhere on the coast they could make land without causing as much damage as the kaiju. They'd have to make do.
The plasma cannon glowed in the periphery of their visual feed, ready to fire. Zhen roared, and then sped through the water. "Shadowcloak, on my mark!" Carter called, typing the command into the interface. She paused, then slammed the button. "Go!" Vents opened across Bella's hull, releasing a dense cloud of black fog that hung in place, framing their outline. As soon as they were obscured they sidestepped to avoid the pounce Zhen made for the dark shape they'd been.
"Fire!" The cannon pulsed, discharging bursts of energy into Zhen's sinuous length, peppering it stem to stern with weapons fire as it passed. The beast shrieked, rearing up and nearly folding itself in half backwards as it instinctively sought the new threat. Upon realizing it was the same threat, its teeth gnashed in challenge.
"Ugly son of a…" Jack muttered, then surged forward with Carter to meet the creature head on, fists to hide. They misjudged the distance, and walked right into a coil of tail. Banshee rolled as the snake bound them like a boa constrictor. Zhen's stinger lashed at their helm, but failed to make so much as a dent, unable to get the force it needed to puncture the hull. Its jaws closed on Bella's torso and clamped down. Bella's titanium hull groaned, then popped as Zhen's teeth punctured through.
Jack's scream tangled with Carter's. Their cannon lay trapped in the beast's jaws as well; they put their combined force behind their remaining free arm, which was already sluggish with damage. They scraped at the beast's eyes, but missed repeatedly, only to lose purchase altogether as the kaiju surged upward. Their video monitors still displayed the footage recorded by the support helicopters- Jack watched as the forward edge of the kaiju's ray-like fins strained sickeningly, then lengthened as a folded hinge extended into a full set of flight-wings. In two powerful beats, the beast began to rise, carrying Banshee and her pilots higher and higher.
"Oh, shit," Carter gasped. Their dials and meters beeped and screamed as the earth fell away from them. In seconds, Jack saw clouds push past their view screen to reveal the stars. Frigid cold seeped into the hull through the holes made by Zhen's teeth, which continued to chomp on them, grinding on metal and cables. Through the agony Jack wondered if they were even still in atmo anymore- of all the readouts and indicators, not one of them was an altimeter. Somehow, no one had thought the Jaegers would fly. A particularly gruesome crunch reverberated through the hull, and for a heart stopping moment Jack thought his own spine had broken. The pain receivers in their suits went dead, but Carter's cry lingered in Jack's ears, until a new sensation pulled his attention. Their plasma cannon shifted position, angling directly down the kaiju's throat. A heartbeat later, Carter realized it too.
"Fire, fire, fire!"
They squeezed off burst after burst into the back of Zhen's throat. The beast shuddered, dropping them almost immediately. Carter snapped their arm up and caught hold of its snout, giving Jack time to empty the cannon down its gullet. Zhen writhed in agony, screeching so loud Jack felt his teeth vibrate. Just as Jack saw the final bursts tear through the Zhen's spine and out the other side, it gave one final spasm. Its tail swung wildly, and lodged its stinger deep into Banshee's hull.
This time, their screams mingled with Zhen's final roar, and then they both were falling. The stinger came loose, sending knives of agony through their drivesuits.
"Sam!" Jack shouted, just as gravity kicked in. Their stomachs lurched at sudden freefall but quickly steadied as they reached terminal velocity. The alarm didn't abate. There was a lot a Jaeger could do, but surviving a meteor strike- as the meteor-wasn't one of them.
"Okay, next upgrade is gonna be a pair of wings, okay?" Jack huffed. Sam gave him a look, panting heavily as sweat dripped into her eyes. "Or a jet pack! I'm flexible."
For a brief moment, Jack caught a breathless glimpse of space before the heat of reentry swallowed their screens in orange fire. A second after that, the screens shut off entirely, leaving them with a blank bulkhead and nothing but the blinking sensors going berserk. Jack's fingers flew across his console, trying to get an accurate read of their remaining sensors. They were in complete freefall, tumbling on more than one axis. The numbers flashing at him were pure chaos, but the one that alarmed Jack the most was the heat building up in the hull. The temperature climbed alarmingly.
"Sam…"
"I see it," she responded. "LOCCENT! This is Banshee! Do you read?" Static responded, sharp and sputtering, distorted by the friction of reentry. Carter cursed, and Jack felt the doubt beginning to creep over her. They had no location, no orientation. Their eyes met, resignation heavy in their gaze. They weren't walking away from this. "LOCCENT, this is Banshee. Do you copy?" The static sputtered, then continued to crackle. "Damn it!" Jack tried to keep up as her mind raced, spotting and disregarding ideas at a mind-bending pace.
"Sam!" Pentecost's voice hissed over the comms, faint and indistinct. Sam jerked, reaching sharply for the comms.
"Marshal!" She called back, only to be answered by more static.
After a long moment, the Marshal's voice came again, fuzzed and almost indiscernible. "...Remember- Whiskey!"
Jack blinked. The only Whiskey he knew was Whiskey Blue; how could reminding Sam of May Day be of any use at all? To his surprise, however, when Sam's mind made the connection, her reaction was jubilant. "That's it!" she called out. Jack perked up instantly. "If we can slow our descent, we might survive. We need to fire the reactor!"
"Like dodging Multo?"
"Yes!" Couldn't the Marshal have used that example? "No!" she amended. "We have a very narrow window to fire the reactor; we'll need more power, and a longer burn." She didn't need to tell him that both those requirements narrowed their window even further. "It probably won't work," she confessed. "The only Jaeger to ever channel this kind of power was Whiskey Blue, and they didn't survive it."
Jack glimpsed that night again as it flashed across Sam's mind. While she struggled to connect with Jonas, she'd watched Whiskey stumble and falter, all of Vala's lithe presence gone. Mitchell wrapped his arms around Athos alone, and fired his reactor to full burn. He hadn't meant to survive. That didn't mean they wouldn't.
"Let's do it," Jack affirmed. He focused on his HUD, and the numbers flashing there. Carter read his intention and it was her mind that made sense of the tumbling numbers. Together, they spread Banshee's limbs to create more air resistance. It gave them just enough room to breathe. "We're upside down," he told Carter unnecessarily. She already knew, and tapped a command into her console.
Banshee's ankle rockets fired, driving her legs forward until they were lateral. Jack tried not to visualize the belly flop they were about to execute. His efforts were rewarded by a brief flash of mirth from Carter, who continued to reroute power, first from their auxiliary systems, then from navigation, then from life support. Jack swallowed his instinctive protest. Their suits had enough air to last them the fall- they wouldn't need it if they failed.
They were cutting it close. Way too close. Against Multo, Carter had been sure. Now her heart thundered as loud as his, uncertainty cutting away at her mental calculations. She wasn't confident they'd survive, even if they didn't blow themselves up. Jack swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit. One of Jack's instructors at the Academy, a retired Ranger, had instructed them to do one thing when faced with certain defeat. "Go out in style and take one of them with you." They certainly met both those requirements. It didn't mean Jack was prepared to kick the bucket.
Their alarms reached an all new octave. "That ground is coming up awful fast," Jack remarked with less panic than he felt.
"Almost done," Sam grunted, not sparing a glance for the blinking numbers showing their steep descent. He felt her count down the seconds as the ground rushed up to meet them, fighting against the instinct to fire now now now. Jack struggled to keep his own panic at bay, but as the seconds ticked by, the need to act grew stronger.
"Sam…"
"I know," she uttered, still counting.
Jack inhaled, his fingers itching. "Sam."
"I know!"
"SAM!"
"NOW!"
The connpod lurched as Bella suddenly decelerated. It wasn't enough. The force of impact caused Jack to black out. When the world came back an instant later, he was hanging in his harness. He checked his readings instinctively. They struggled to come back online, flickering in distress. He instead turned his attention to his copilot, who trembled in her harness.
"Sam?" Her breaths came in sharp wheezes over the headset, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Spasms wracked her entire frame. "Sam!"
Carter's eyes sparkled when she turned to face him, soundless guffaws pulling from her lips as she laughed. "It worked!" she gasped, struggling to breathe. "I can't- I can't believe it!"
"Banshee!" Pentecost's voice squawked across the radio. Jack looked around the connpod, and found that power was slowly returning. They'd fared better than Sam had anticipated. "Banshee, respond!"
Still giggling, Carter keyed the comms while Jack stared at her in disbelief. "Yes, sir! We're both okay!" She laughed again, unperturbed by Jack's speechlessness. "Anything's possible in a Jaeger!"
Jack could almost hear Pentecost roll his eyes and for once Jack was right there with him. "Maniac," he accused, dumbfounded. "My copilot's a maniac!"
Carter laughed again. When she ran out of mirth, she coughed and together they pushed Banshee back to their feet. Their headsets buzzed, unnaturally shrill. Sam looked at Jack, her eyes wide. "Is that…?"
"Screaming," he finished. He tapped his console to pull up the radar. The display glowed, but flickered. He saw nothing, but couldn't confirm the sensors weren't damaged. "I don't see Baubas."
"LOCCENT, we do not have a location on Baubas! Please advise!" Sam requested. "LOCCENT? Manhattan! Does anybody read?"
"Ranger Carter," the Marshal's voice came again. The sound of screaming came through loud behind him, as though it were coming from the control room itself.
"Sir, we don't have a location on Baubas-"
"Check your shoes, Banshee," came the chuckled response. "You landed right on top of the bastard."
A horrified look crossed Sam's face, even as Manhattan whooped over the comms, joining the din. "That was un-friggin'-believable! Banshee! You sons of bitches!"
"Looks like the PPDC has another legend in the making-"
"Banshee! Check out the news feed!" Tendo called.
Sam obeyed and soon the newscast was glowing against the bulkhead. For once the talking heads were absent, and footage of their fall was being shown. Banshee was a meteor, a lump of fire streaking for the ground, making Jack glad that their viewscreen had shorted out on them. Banshee slammed the ground in a plume of smoke and debris, the camera view shaking violently at the impact. The studio was silent for several long minutes, until the smoke cleared, revealing Banshee's batter form as she climbed to her feet. The feed erupted into applause, wild cheering.
"Belladonna Banshee survived!" The anchor told them exuberantly. "We're now receiving confirmation that the kaiju is terminated and both of Banshee's pilots are unharmed!"
"Unharmed," Jack scoffed. "Does she not know how hard I banged my elbow back there?" He was rewarded with the sensation of Carter smiling.
"Banshee is piloted by newcomer Jack O'Neill and renowned pilot Samantha Carter, who has been out of the field for the past two years following the massive loss of two San Diego Jaegers on May 1st, 2026. The reason behind her hiatus is unknown, but I think we can safely say that she hasn't lost her touch."
Jack looked at Sam, concerned the reminder of May Day would dampen her spirits. Instead she seemed thoughtful- he couldn't be sure she'd even heard the broadcast.
"Samantha Carter first made waves when she became the youngest pilot in the PPDC in 2021. Only a short month later she and then-copilot Jonas Hanson were deployed against Kaiju codenamed Shredder off the coast of Long Beach, stopping the kaiju before it made landfall. At the time-"
"You two are heroes!" Tendo shouted. In the background, Jack could hear the cheers of celebration in LOCCENT, probably the entire rest of the base as well. "You're goddamn crazy, but you're heroes!"
The Marshal cut in, his voice a solid counterpoint to the others' enthusiasm. "Dust yourselves off and get back to the Shatterdome. Good work, Rangers."