2025, January 10 – 08:49– Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China
"Sir," Greyson said, popping her head into the Marshal's office, "I've got some updates from K-Science, unless you're busy?"
Pentecost waved her in, eyes not leaving the preliminary reports that he was looking over.
The lieutenant pulled up her holopad, beginning without prompt: "Gottlieb has made it to Ground Zero in the bone slums, and Geiszler relayed some additional equipment that he needs to be brought."
"Why didn't he say so before we sent out the Jumphawk?" the Marshal grumbled, shaking his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Don't worry, Stacks, I made sure to give Newt a piece of my mind when I yelled at him." That almost had the corners of his lips turn up in a smile – almost. Greyson nodded slightly, stifling her laugh. Finishing, she informed him, "He had CC'd me in his report of the inter-species Drifting, and he says that the Baby Kaiju from Otachi has a high probability of being viable."
The Marshal leaned back in his seat, a look of contemplation painting his features. "And that's why he needs the equipment?"
"Yes, sir. I've brought J-Tech in on this as well, to help him re-sequence and recalibrate his…" Greyson hesitated to call the pile of garbage he'd thrown together to Drift with an invention, and she made sure to choose her words wisely. "His discount Pons System."
He swiped through files, silent, and Greyson wondered for a moment what he was looking for before LUCARIO popped up on his screen. She watched Pentecost move into a subfolder, select some prints, and then send them out.
"Was that all, Sonny?" he asked finally, barely glancing up at her.
Greyson's throat felt incredibly dry all of the sudden. She shouldn't ask. She knew she shouldn't. But seeing that whatever the project had been was relevant again, it seemed like fair game. After all, she couldn't really help him with much if she was out of the loop, right?
"Marshal… What's the Lucario Project?"
That simple question about the redacted Marshal-Only files revealed a lot more than the lieutenant had bargained for. Experimentation with kaiju brains, solicited from Hannibal Chau's harvesters? Jaeger pilots recruited as fucking guinea pigs?
When Pentecost confirmed that Newt Geiszler wasn't the first person to Drift with a kaiju, her heart felt like it dropped straight to her stomach. There were Duc and Kaori Jessup, the pilots of Tacit Ronin, before they died in action back in 2016.
And then fucking Yancy.
The files cited Yancy as presumed dead because the kaiju theoretically had a hive mind, and Knifehead had seen the Conn-Pod and known they were there. Throwing around "in theory" only made the lieutenant a lot angrier. Because in theory, some pilots wouldn't have died if it weren't for the Lucario Project.
She was beyond furious, and consequences were the last thing on her mind. It wasn't until she had finished shouting at her commanding officer that Greyson took a breath and realized her error. She didn't even know when she'd started yelling. No one, not even Chuck or Raleigh, got off scot-free when they raised their voice to the Marshal.
(The last person who'd yelled at him—Charlie Kenton—got fired; Greyson knew, because she'd processed his discharge papers.)
Angry tears were still streaming down her face. Her hands were shaking at her side. Her body was all but vibrating with seething anger. Greyson Darcy wasn't sure if she was livid at the situation, or the fact that Stacker Pentecost seemed almost unsurprised by her reaction.
Pentecost had a frown fixed on his lips, and he didn't look particularly fond of her at the moment. Resigned, maybe, and definitely angry in his own regard. The only sign of his irritation was the crossed arms over his chest. He asked coldly, "Are you finished, lieutenant?"
Greyson wiped the wetness away with the palm of her hand. She swallowed, trying to still her quivering lip. "I at least deserve a direct answer, sir," she responded curtly, surprised that her throat only just barely hurt.
"In spite of this delicate circumstance, I hope you understand that you are skating on thin fucking ice, Darcy," the Marshal warned. The curse had shaken her some. His glare was menacing, even for him. "Never raise your voice towards me again."
She sniffed, her eyes locking onto his. There was a fury in them that she hadn't seen in quite some time. Greyson could only nod in defeat, her gaze falling to the desk between them. The hinges of her jaw started to ache with the pressure of clenching her teeth together. "Why?" she questioned desperately.
"Every Ranger knew that we were going in blind despite the Pons science. Lucario was a need-to-know project, and you did not need to know." Each word that came from Pentecost was punctuated firmly with a hidden warning. "We were always fighting battles to win the war, from the very beginning. This was one of them."
"So, all those rumors about you and Chau… You had been colluding with him, even before?" Greyson asked, challenging him. Thin ice or not, she was getting an answer. "Is that why the Defense Corps let him go, before they started shutting down the Jaeger Program?"
"It was a calculated decision on my part. It gave us leverage when we needed his help for funding, and you know that. The things we learned from the project was instrumental in what created Operation Pitfall."
"Did Herc know about the experiments?" Greyson had calmed down some, but the questions still kept coming. She blinked at the Marshal, pressing, "Does Raleigh even know about what happened to his brother?"
"No." The Marshal had said it was such conviction that Greyson was caught a little off-guard. "No, they don't."
"Sir, how could you possibly keep this from—?"
"Easily." Pentecost's eyes narrowed.
She frowned, the pain clear in her voice. "And Caitlin and my Uncle Jasper? They knew, right? You couldn't have hidden it from them. What did you do, bribe them to keep quiet?"
He seemed to bite back a remark; it was just there, obvious on his face. "Dr. Lightcap was our primary scientist handling the Pons remotely," Pentecost answered. "As for your uncle… Well, after the Jessups had died in action, Dr. Schoenfeld walked, remaining at the Los Angeles 'Dome after signing an NDA."
The Filipina lieutenant was finding it very hard to not get riled up again, but she couldn't help a sarcastic, "A tough decision on your end, I'm sure."
The Marshal's eyes were hard. He reprimanded, "We may have known each other from quite some time now, Miss Darcy, but I am still your Marshal. I am first and foremost the fixed point to this Shatterdome, and I don't expect for you to understand every decision I make."
Greyson watched him move around his desk, buttoning the middle of his jacket. For some reason, his words felt like a double-edged sword. "And what kind of decisions would that be?"
"Let Dr. Geiszler know that he will have his equipment," he said simply, ignoring her question. "And should Dr. Gottlieb's predictions come true, make sure DSR has my DriveSuit prepped."
"Your DriveSuit?" she questioned, automatically concerned. She didn't miss the handkerchief that he pressed to his nose. Jesus Christ. Was he…? He couldn't be thinking to get into a Conn-Pod. Greyson let out a strangled, "Stacker, what—?"
"We're done here, Sonny."
2025, January 10 – 14:21– Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China
Greyson had spent the last couple of hours reading through the Lucario Project files, feeling sick to her stomach. She'd had to wipe away so many tears already after reading over the Jessups' dossiers and the Marshal's reports dating up to their death. They'd shelved the project for three years before they had recruited again in 2019, when her uncle thankfully was no longer involved.
Nothing hurt her more than reading the ones on Yancy, from November 2019 to March 2020. It was like reopening wounds that started gushing out pain and sorrow; she wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready to share these with Raleigh. The first sessions with the K-Science division had started just after the Beckets had returned from Manila after a three Jaeger drop. Greyson remembered that night distinctly, remembered his kiss and his smile and his bright eyes when he told her that he loved her.
She remembered that he'd joked about Drifting with a kaiju brain, and she didn't believe him. It was ridiculous at the time. Why would she have? Although, if Greyson had believed Yancy back then, maybe he…
Greyson shook the feeling from her shoulders, knowing that she couldn't exactly change the past. She leaned against the rails on the gantry overlooking Gipsy Danger's holding bay. Seeing her always made her feel better. J-Tech was about done with fixing the large mecha after the last mission, and she was itching to get back in.
Or it could be that she was itching to fall into the Drift and feel Yancy's presence again. For that, she felt a little guilty.
The project files had really messed with her head: there were data tables of each Drift they'd executed (five, over the span of three months), and records of weird memory alteration procedures (which explained why Raleigh never found out about it), and counselor's notes about behavioral changes (from the Drifts or the memory-hijacking, they weren't even sure). Greyson had read the reports, felt a knife twist in her gut when they mentioned her relationship with Yancy.
She didn't dare finish reading them, because the little seeds of doubt were already planted that maybe he wasn't even himself in those last few months. God, what fucking luck if it turned out that her first love was literally manufactured and not—
Mako gently put a hand onto Greyson's elbow to hopefully not startle her. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked quietly, concern clear on her face.
Greyson wiped a rogue tear from her cheek, forcing a smile to her lips. "A little worried, you know, considering everything." A half-truth. She could live with a half-truth. The lieutenant sighed, "I can't wrap my head around why we're doing the op when we still don't know enough about the Breach."
Not like the Marshal hasn't done things without knowing enough about it before, Greyson almost added, but bit it back before she could.
"It will… require more thought than action, since we only have two Jaegers left," Mako said considerately, mirroring the lieutenant and leaning against the railing.
"Do you think it'll be enough?" Greyson worried her bottom lip between her teeth, angling her head to the girl beside her. "I mean, both J-Tech teams have been on full throttle the last couple of days."
"Striker Eureka is all but shined down," Mako explained. "They needed to reboot her after what happened with the EMP charge, but there was not too much damage."
"Gipsy Danger's seen worse," Greyson mused, smiling slightly to herself when she turned back to the larger-than-life Jaeger. "I mean, hell, I've seen worse."
Mako inquired, "The Marshal has grounded you, I assume, already?"
"Grounded so deep, as far as I'm concerned, I'm pretty much underground." Greyson huffed out a laugh, thinking about how Pentecost looked about ready to punish her for yelling if she wasn't so distraught. Maybe that was something Mako didn't need to know.
"Stacker has his reasons," Mako said thoughtfully, smiling genuinely in her direction.
"I sure hope so."
2025, January 11 – 02:44– Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China
Chuck got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, slowly getting out of bed to keep from waking his sleeping girlfriend. He was half-awake as he went about his business, teetering enough on the edge of consciousness that he could probably still fall asleep again once his head hit the pillows.
Greyson was facing the lavatory door, and Chuck smiled fondly before he shut off the light, watching her face and… seeing the tears that ran down her cheeks. His heart started pounding and he crossed the room to crawl back into bed beside her, brows furrowing in worry. Shaking her shoulder lightly, he whispered, "Sonny? Sonny, wake up. What's wrong?"
A stifled whimper escaped her before her eyes blinked open, frantic until they focused on Chuck's. His heart ached just seeing that look on her face, and he immediately wiped the tear tracks on her tanned skin. Greyson inhaled a shaky breath, reaching out to pull him into a hug. She sobbed against his neck, and there was nothing else Chuck could do but to hold her close and rub soothing circles on her back.
Chuck didn't move them from the embrace, even when her wracking sobs subsided and breathing evened out. He continued his comforts, daring to ask, "Was it another nightmare?"
It was quiet for a few heartbeats, until Greyson audibly swallowed and took a breath. "It was… Yancy."
His brows knitted together in both disbelief and confusion. Greyson had told him her life story once upon a time, including the agony of losing her boyfriend and best friend when it happened—the Drift she had with Becket on the last drop must have brought it all back. She hasn't talked about him in some time, at least not at length.
Chuck pulled away enough to look her in the eye. "You know you can talk about it with me, right, love?"
Greyson went to cup his cheek, her thumb lightly brushing his eyelashes. She closed her eyes, still caressing his skin. "I'd argued with Pentecost about—about an old project yesterday, and Yancy was brought up," she revealed quietly, almost like it hurt her to say it. "And feeling him again through Raleigh—it was just…"
"It's okay," Chuck whispered, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the very scent of her, before saying, "I had nightmares, too, in the beginning. About losing my mom. It's sort of why I'm scared of losing people."
The redhead paused, blinked, and then added: "You better not tell anybody I care about them. I gotta keep up my reputation."
She managed a small smile, chuckling quietly under her breath. "I'm scared of spiders," Greyson offered tentatively.
"Huh. I didn't know that."
Greyson shifted in his arms, maneuvering under the blankets as she crawled on top of him and settled against his front. Maybe if he kept her talking, she'd start feeling better and forget about the lingering nightmare.
"How'd it start?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.
"What, my horrid fear of spiders?" she countered, raising a brow. Off of his nod, Greyson considered the words on her tongue. "I was… four? I think five, at most. It was way, way before my mom left us." She cleared her throat. "She got bit by a spider when she was out back, didn't really think much of it. I remember… Raleigh's mom driving us to the emergency room when she developed a bad reaction."
Nice one, dumbass, you were supposed to prevent her from thinking about the Beckets. Chuck opened his mouth to say something to change the topic, but then hesitated. Instead he voiced, "What happened at the hospital?"
She muttered, "I'm not sure. I remember my mom chucking up everything she'd had for the day, crying, and they'd hooked her up to an IV line." Greyson was drawing circles on his chest with her fingertips, her expression remaining neutral as she spoke.
"And that's why you're scared of spiders?" Chuck inquired, fighting back the slightly amused smile that tugged no his lips.
"Well, it was traumatic—" Greyson sighed, sucking on her teeth. "I mean, c'mon, if something that small could potentially kill somebody, why wouldn't more people be afraid of them?"
"You do know we got huntsman spiders where I'm from, yeah? Bastards as big as your hand." Chuck laughed after Greyson thumped him in the ribs, complaining. He grabbed her wrist to halt her attack. "Love, you got nothing to be afraid of if you're with me," he told her. "It ain't in my blood; I'm Australian. Nah, we just step on 'em."
Greyson snorted down a laugh, shaking her head. "My hero," she deadpanned, pressing her lips together to hide a smile when he continued his howling laughter.
2025, January 11 – 22:36 – Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China
The test-run with Gipsy Danger earlier in the evening went off without a hitch. But it was still a little weird having Mako in his head, subconsciously judging him for the dumb decisions he's made so far. It didn't help that Greyson was with Tendo making calls from the LOCCENT.
"Great job, guys," Tendo's voice came from the Conn-Pod speakers. "Looks like Gipsy's gonna be ready to roll for Pitfall."
When he and Mako detached themselves from the motion rigs and pulled off their helmets, Raleigh reached up to the console. He asked, "Hey, does anyone know where the Marshal is?"
"In his office," Greyson answered.
Raleigh nodded—and then rolled his eyes at himself because she obviously couldn't see him. "Thanks, Sonny," he said quickly before releasing the comm button.
Ever since he and Greyson had returned from their last combat mission, and he had seen the blood from the Marshal firsthand, he had been bursting at the seams with questions. In between everything else going on around them, there just ever seemed to be a good time to talk about it until now.
He could feel Mako watching his movements from the other side of the Conn-Pod, curious and wary. She warned, "Raleigh…"
"I'm not going to fight him," he reassured, tucking his helmet under his arm before hitting the hatch release.
Mako sighed, "That does not make me feel better."
Raleigh got to Pentecost's office and found the door open, so he did what any normal person would do—he went in. The sound of running water registered in his head before he saw the Marshal standing at the sink in his office without his uniform, splashing water on his face. He'd just missed him wiping blood away, and they locked eyes in the mirror.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Raleigh asked.
He might've been slow going, but he figured it out eventually. If it wasn't the memories from Mako during their first Drift, or merely just knowing what Pentecost did at the beginning of the war, it was definitely the speed at which they'd given him Metharocin when he arrived at the 'Dome to counteract the radiation.
"What's there to tell?" the Marshal sighed. He set the pill box down onto the counter before leaning against it. His dress shirt was stained red in the front. "The Mark 1s… we scraped them together in fourteen months. The last thing on our minds was radiation poisoning. Lives were being lost. I ran nearly a dozen combat missions in Coyote Tango."
Raleigh remained quiet as Pentecost continued on, explaining how he stayed under the radar with medical before finishing his last deployment solo when his co-pilot, Tamsin Sevier, had passed out. Frankly, he couldn't imagine piloting for three hours, let alone all the brain damage and radiation that the man had sustained. Raleigh only piloted Gipsy Danger for fifteen minutes with the circuitry burns to match—it was amazing that Pentecost was even still alive.
The Marshal confirmed the worst when he explained, "I was warned that if I ever climbed into a Jaeger again, the toll would be too much." He met Raleigh's eyes again, and there was a kind of resilience and resignation in them, all at once. "You and I, we're the only two ever to run a solo combat. I called you here because I needed someone who would never stop. No matter what. Someone who would do the right thing. Regardless of the circumstances, your loss… or me." Pentecost held out his hand. Raleigh took it.
He wasn't sure what to say next, and maybe asking about Mako and Greyson would be the wrong thing to say, but he didn't need to dwell on it much when Tendo's workstation feed popped up over the Marshal's comm link.
Tendo announced, "I just got two signatures with unprecedented dilation, forty-meter spikes."
"Category?" the Marshal inquired.
Greyson leaned into Tendo's side, reaching over to give the instrument readouts another look. "Checking the ratios, sir, both Category 4." For some reason, that sent a cold shiver up Raleigh's spine.
"Where are they headed?"
Tendo answered this time. "That's the thing, they're not headed anywhere. They're hovering just above the Breach. It's like they're protecting it or something."
Pentecost's eyes darted to Greyson's form on the hologram projection. "Lieutenant, did you complete what I asked?"
Her expression was stoic, but even from where he stood Raleigh could see a small frown tugging on her lips. "Yes, sir."
"Alright. Gipsy, Striker, on deck."
"But—sir…" Tendo hesitated. "Herc can't ride. His arm… he—"
The Marshal gave him a stern look, replying, "You heard me." Before leaving his office with Raleigh at his heels, Pentecost had shoved the pill case into his pocket. "Time to get moving."
As they made their way to the DriveSuit Room, Raleigh knew already with a heavy feeling in his chest that Stacker Pentecost was ready to die.
A/N: I've got a shit ton of the timeline and chapters plotted out until the end of Pacific Rim 2, so hopefully the rest of the chapters come out faster! (Honestly, I'm already getting emotional over what's happening so let's collectively cry together, k thx bye)