2020, April 17 – 17:23 – The Ice Box, Kodiak Island, Alaska, United States
17 April 2020
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
United Nations to sunset Jaeger program; Pan-Pacific Defense priorities shift to coastal defense, resettlement
Effective immediately, the United Nations Subcommittee on Kaiju Defense and Security, Pan-Pacific Breach Working Group, is reassigning funding from the Jaeger program.
The costs of the Jaeger program have proven unsustainable in view of the limited returns the program offers. In the last three years we have spent trillions on Jaegers. A member of those Jaegers has been destroyed and losses to life and property are devastating.
It could be argued, and has ably been argued by Marshal Pentecost, that our situation would be much worse were it not for the Jaegers. Perhaps so. Yet this is a hypothetical argument, and we are faced with the real-world problem of bankrupting the economies of the developed nations to continue a program whose successes—however notable—no longer justify such an outlay.
We will sunset the Jaeger program in a manner that continues to prioritize the safety and security of the people of the Pacific Rim nations. While we do this, we will redirect funding toward the following initiatives:
COASTAL BARRIERS
No kaiju has attacked a currently standing Wall. The building of these fortifications is the simplest and most cost-effective tool humanity has to combat the kaiju threat.
EVACUATION AND RESETTLEMENT PROGRAMS
Citizens of the Pacific coastal cities will be receiving further information as new housing is constructed farther inland, prioritizing according to progress on the Wall.
COMPLETION OF UNDERSEA BARRIERS IN THE SOUTH PACIFIC
The kaiju must be contained at all costs, and under no circumstances will they be allowed to break out of the Pacific and threaten Europe, India, or the East Coast of the Americas.
The Working Group's members wish to thank Marshal Pentecost, his Rangers, and the entire staff of the Jaeger program for their courageous service.
For a long time, the wait leading up to the conference was like the slow and painful pulling of a Band-Aid. The Alaskan base was the first of many Shatterdomes scheduled to be sunset, and its proposed closing disheartened thousands of workers. The media had been hovering over the topic for a while, waiting precisely for the right time to buzz around. They all dreaded the conversation with the UN Pan-Pacific Breach Working Group. Word hadn't been good. Hopefully, they had convinced them otherwise.
Stacker Pentecost was front and center, the Marshal after all, when it came to being viewed on the monitors. Tendo Choi and Herc Hansen were both present alongside Greyson Darcy in the closed-down LOCCENT, away from view.
"The Kaiju are learning our defenses. They're adapting, evolving. And we're losing Jaegers faster than we can build them." Taylor, the American United Nations representative, started naming cities where Jaeger teams had fallen: "Lima. Seattle. Vladivostok. Category 4 Kaijus are now coming through the Breach. I think even you can see, Marshal, this is no longer a sound strategy." Taylor continued, "The Jaegers are not the most viable line of defense anymore."
Greyson's eyes scanned the faces and expressions of all the United Nation reps. Canada's Wilson and Japan's Satou definitely seemed like they wanted no part of the conference.
"I am aware," Marshal Pentecost forcefully stated, and then stopped himself. "Those are my Rangers that die every time a Jaeger falls, which is why I'm asking you for one last chance—" The British advocate, Cole, started to interrupt the Marshal's plea. "One final assault with everything we've got—"
Cole barked for attention. "Excuse me, Marshal — Marshal, listen to me!" The stern expression on his face matched even the one of Taylor's. "The Jaeger Program is dead, Marshal. On the other hand," he continued, "the Coastal Wall Program is a promising option."
The Australian rep cut in, "We've been through this before. The simple fact is the Breach is impenetrable."
"With our current assets, perhaps," Pentecost said. "But just as the kaiju have evolved, we are evolving as well. We have the Mark 5-E Jaeger through the design phase and ready for prototyping. It's ready to go as soon as the funding is released."
"That just isn't on the table, I'm afraid," the Australian said.
Greyson looked to her side and made eye contact with Herc. No words were exchanged, but she knew what they all were thinking: The V-E was supposed be built in Australia. If their own rep wouldn't stand up for it, how could it survive?
The Marshal pushed forward with the conference, trying to convince the United Nations still. He explained how K-Science has made strides with understanding the Breach, and that they were so close to destroying it. They couldn't stop now, after so many had been sacrificed to protect the world.
Taylor took head of the conversation once more, speaking as if he had scripted it. "The world appreciates all that you and your men have done, but it's over." It was always like this; curt, short; no say one way or another. "We will authorize you to take all remaining Jaegers to the last battle station: Hong Kong. We're prepared to fund you for the next eight months while the Coastal Wall is completed." There was a lingering silence. Again, all was quiet until: "After that, you will receive no further support. You are free to continue it, and I'm sure that a man of your determination will find a way to keep Jaegers in the field."
For the first time since the start of the video conference, Wilson shared his voice. "You have your answer, Marshal."
And one by one, the nine United Nations representatives signed off, leaving behind nothing but black screens.
There was a stunned silence. Stacker took a moment to collect himself before turning to face the others.
"So, that's it?" Three other occupants of the room focused their attention on Tendo Choi. "It's over?" he asked in reference to what was left of the barely upright Jaeger Program.
Herc sighed and, upon seeing his best friend and commanding officer step down the platform, said, "Suits and ties, flashy smiles. That's all they are, Stacker."
Greyson stood in stilled silence as they conversed. Her eyes followed the hand of Pentecost as a Metharocin pill went from the canister to his mouth. The Marshal's lips formed the words, "We don't need them."
"We're… going to follow through with the op, then?" Greyson had her thumbs hooked into the pockets of her slacks, and though she appeared relaxed, the woman was as tense as a spring. "What are we going to do now? That Mark 5-E was supposed to run point."
Pentecost licked his lips, thinking. "It's too early to decide, now that we can't build the new Jaeger. On the other hand, K-Science is getting close to an answer; hopefully, in the end, we won't need it."
They watched as Pentecost unclipped the Marshal's wings from his suit, and placed it on the table. It was an act of defiance, if anything, and Stacker Pentecost never liked disobeying authority. The three of them knew what was running through the Marshal's head.
"Yeah, but don't forget, after eight months we're kaput." Tendo crossed his arms over his chest. "How are we going to keep the Program afloat once the year ends?"
"Well, there might be a way. We still have the Defense Corps contact," the Marshal said slowly. "He's been an ally over the years, albeit a criminal one."
The pieces started to fall together in Greyson's head: The rumors she'd heard months ago about Pentecost and Chau dealing right under the PPDC's nose was a complete lie. Well, that is, until now.
Her eyes narrowed. "Sir, are we really going to Hannibal Chau for help?"
Herc's eyes widened, stricken. He questioned, "Stacker, are we that desperate?"
The Marshal frowned. It seemed he had made up his mind. "It is distasteful, perhaps. But this? This is war."
2021, July 28 – 12:45 – The Ice Box, Kodiak Island, Alaska, United States
Ironically enough, Hannibal Chau was let go by the PPDC once the new year rolled around; something about beginning to cut off all ties from the Jaeger Program and its divisions. But in secret, Pentecost had made an arrangement with the black marketeer in order to be provided funding.
Greyson Darcy was seated in the Marshal's office, examining files and looking for prospects digitally, per say-so of her CO. Pentecost sat back in his chair, listening to the lieutenant, his own holoscreen sitting on his desk.
"Sir, I've got a handful of Marshal-Only clearance dossiers and a couple project files here." Greyson tapped on her holoscreen before looking up at Pentecost.
"Which files, Darcy?"
"Looks like… both Beckets', the three Hansens', and one for Chau — updated recently, by you, sir."
The Marshal's eyes scanned the holoscreen, which mirrored the same one as Greyson's. "Redact Chau's… and Scott Hansen's."
Greyson did so without question, and then made a face when she read the other project files. "That leaves the Jaeger Restoration and Mark V-E prints…"
The last file folder was labeled LUCARIO, dated from late-2019 to the month Yancy died. The lieutenant didn't want to ask questions. For some reason, redacted files on him were inside. She found it disturbing that this was the first she was hearing of it.
What the hell was the Lucario Project?
2022, January 31 – 14:19 – Sydney Shatterdome, Sydney, Australia
Boxes. Greyson Darcy was close enough to retching with the smell of that god awful cardboard. How many boxes does it take to put away files and staff dossiers? A lot of them, apparently. Why did they still even use paper? It was 2022, for God's sake!
When the PPDC started cutting funds to the Jaeger Program two years ago, every Shatterdome started shutting down lesser needed functions. Back in '21, Pentecost had moved Gipsy Danger's crippled body to Oblivion Bay, the Jaeger graveyard in Oakland, California, otherwise known as the first kaiju's final resting place.
The Marshal had transferred Lieutenant Darcy to the Sydney 'Dome temporarily. Striker Eureka was being deployed more often than others, and Herc Hansen had wanted to have someone Stacker trusted close by.
Majority of the space was emptied out, and more staffers would be helping her out if Striker hadn't been deployed a few hours prior. Greyson figured it wouldn't be much trouble to take them on her own. She stacked them on top of each other, and then took hold of the bottom box. There was one problem that the lieutenant hadn't thought of.
As Greyson maneuvered the floors blindly, vision obstructed by the boxes, she was cursing every other second. Her arms were getting sore and her fingers were chaffing against the box handles and her breath made her correction glasses fog up, and if this wasn't the most uncomfortable day of her life, Greyson didn't know what was.
The next thing she remembered was tripping over her own feet, and then feeling someone catching her, but the boxes in her hands imitated the Washington Monument in that old movie Olympus Has Fallen. Greyson felt herself within strong arms; a hand was placed at the small of her back, and even through the fabrics of her layers, she could feel the warmth that came from it.
"Christ. Are you okay?"
Greyson came face to face with none other than Chuck Hansen himself. Of course. She had come across him enough times to be considered well acquainted, yet, at this moment, she found herself turning red-faced.
Slightly embarrassed, Greyson answered his question, saying that she was indeed fine. Clearing her throat, she bent to pick up everything, glowering at the jarred boxes and scattered papers. The woman sighed loudly, blowing hair from her face.
There was talking and footsteps and engines, and then Chuck was at her side in a moment, shuffling the sheets together. When his hand grazed over hers, they gave each other a lingering look.
She was caught off guard when he asked again: "Sure you're alright?" Chuck's eyes were all blue, like the sky outside on a good day, and his dimples were prominent when a smile tugged at his lips.
"Peachy."
In haste the boxes were righted. Greyson and Chuck took hold of two boxes each and got to their feet. As the two walked, the former couldn't help but to stare. "Thank you," she eventually spit out.
Chuck turned his head. For someone four years younger than she, Greyson noted how much taller he was in comparison. He dipped his gaze to meet her eye, and the smile that followed after seemed to brighten them more.
2022, February 3 – 06:23 – Sydney Shatterdome, Sydney, Australia
Whoever said "diamonds are a girl's best friend" was most obviously wrong; headphones, in fact, took that title — at least, that's what Greyson figured. They were the universal prop that exclaimed to the world, "Leave me alone!"
Every time Greyson woke up in Australia, she would remember that once upon a time, going there had always been a dream; she just never thought the push that would bring her there was work. On top of that, sometimes work ran over personal time, and other times people missed their birthdays.
It was one of those years. She had celebrated her twenty-third birthday alone. Tendo was the only who remembered, frankly.
As she walked around the large Shatterdome, Greyson began putting names to the familiar faces of the many passersby. Jacqui, Rich, Mel, Savannah, Laura, Raj—
"Sonny! Hey!" She immediately knew the voice even before turning around: Chuck. His footsteps echoed as he approached. Greyson turned to him, looking curiously at the arm shifted behind his back. Huffing, Chuck let out, "I've been looking for you."
Greyson nodded to him in kind, pulling down her headphones and letting them rest on her shoulders. "How can I be of service?" She smiled up at him. There was no apparent hint of distaste in her words and for that Greyson gave herself a mental pat on the back.
Chuck's ears visibly turned a dark pink hue. She bit the side of her lip to hide a smirk. "So, I heard from a few others that it was your birthday the other day, and I just…" The Australian, with a large, heartfelt grin, pulled from behind his back a bouquet of hydrangeas, irises, daffodils, carnations, and primroses. "I got you these."
Sheepishly, he added, "I hope they're okay. The shop clerk said these would do fine, y'see, and I didn't know if…"
Her face hurt so much from smiling that Greyson was afraid her cheeks would burst. But she didn't dare care. Cutting off Chuck's ramblings on, she accepted the bouquet and went on the balls of her feet to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "I love them, Charlie, thank you." Greyson lifted the flowers to her nose and took a whiff.
Chuck hadn't even argued about whether or not he liked being called 'Charlie', and that made Greyson ponder on things she had yet to factor.
About three things she was absolutely positive: First, Chuck Hansen had those eyes as blue as the sea on a peaceful day, the kind of blues everyone would love to jump into. Second, there was a part of her, and she didn't know how strong it was, that most probably actually may have found him somewhat attractive. And third, Greyson Darcy wouldn't regret accepting that invite to spend her day with him.