Domovoi Part 22

Despite the defeat of two Kaiju – and the loss of two Jaegers and their Rangers – there was time to neither celebrate nor mourn.  Never had the stakes for the war been higher… and with only two Jaegers remaining to lead the assault on the Breach, never had circumstances been so desperate.  Repairs on Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka were well underway, and Pentecost and Tendo scrambled to find a replacement for Strikers’ wounded Ranger.  Any tears shed over Team Crimson and Team Cherno were shed quietly, or simply held back for a quieter moment.

Through all fuss and preparation for the final strike, Gipsy and Striker stood in silent vigil.  Neither Jaeger made to contact the other, each lost in their own private thoughts.  A few of the more seasoned technicians and maintenance workers noted the change – usually both Jaegers were quite “vocal,” their engines crooning or growling almost constantly, so this sudden quiet on both their parts was baffling.

Finally Striker broke the silence, engines coughing, his “nudge” toward Gipsy oddly subdued for his arrogant nature.  Gipsy shook herself out of her apprehensive funk and turned her attention to the Mark V.  What did he want?

The dun Jaeger coughed again, his presence colored with an emotion that could best be described as an embarrassed blush.  She had done well out there… better than he’d expected.  And he supposed he should be thankful to her for saving him and his Rangers.  If she hadn’t come when she had, he would have been torn to pieces.

Gipsy crooned softly in response.  It was nothing, really.  She had simply done what any Jaeger would have done – responded to a threat, and protected both a city and a fellow Jaeger.  She only regretted that she couldn’t be there to save Crimson and Cherno.

At the mention of the Mark IV and Mark I, both Jaegers fell silent again.  The enormity of what had just happened was finally sinking in.  With the loss of Crimson and Cherno, they were now the last of their kind.  And the fate of an entire world now rested on their shoulders.  It was a sobering thought, one that hung over their heads like a storm cloud.

Striker huffed, and had he possessed the ability to control his own limbs he might have shuffled from foot to foot in awkward fidgeting.  It dented his pride far worse than Leatherback could dent his chassis to admit it, but he owed her an apology.  He’d insulted both her and her Rangers, and given that she’d had every right to let the Kaiju take a piece out of him…

Gipsy cut him off with a sharp growl.  No… no Jaeger deserved to be destroyed by the Kaiju.  Not even one as rude and narcissistic as Striker.  She would not have let him be taken apart.  It was as he had said after her failed drift – the last of the Jaegers had to stick together.  And if that meant putting aside old grudges and old insults, then so be it.

Striker hummed in response.  She was a good fighter, he noted, and both she and her Rangers were some of the most resourceful warriors out there.  Even he could admit that he could learn a few things from her.

Her engines sputtered in a laugh.  Maybe he should pay attention to what an older Jaeger had to say every so often.  He just might learn something.

He snarled in response, though more jokingly than in irritation.  She wasn’t THAT much older than him.  And besides, she might have seniority on him, but he still had the higher kill count, even taking Leatherback and Otachi into account.  Maybe she could learn a few things from HIM.

Not that there would be much more time to learn anything, they both knew.  The attack on the Breach – their final battle – loomed ahead, and beyond that… who knew what lay in store for them?  Best to focus on the now, on the moment, and not speculate further.  

In those final stolen moments before Operation Pitfall went into full effect, Striker and Gipsy continued to talk, exchanging stories and friendly jabs, establishing a bond between them – perhaps not quite the same bond of friendship she had enjoyed with Cherno and Crimson, but a bond nonetheless.  It was too short a time for both of them, but they would take whatever they could get.

***

The Ao Kuang had dropped anchor a few miles from the island, a large atoll on the outskirts of the Polynesian islands.  From there, Crimson Typhoon waded the rest of the way to shore, cupping a “welcoming committee” consisting of Tendo Choi, Hercules Hansen, and Caitlin Lightcap in his hands.  It had been decided that the best way to convince the natives to part with Striker Eureka’s remains was through a Jaeger – who better to make the request than one of the titanic mecha that they supposedly worshiped.

Cherno had wanted to come, but Crimson had insisted he be the one to make this journey.  He was curious about the possibility of a Jaeger cult… and just a little jealous that Cherno had been the one to bring Coyote home.  It was his turn, he reasoned, to retrieve one of their own, even if it was only a lifeless Conn Pod.

Or not so lifeless, perhaps.  For the closer the Ao Kuang got to the island, the more a familiar presence grew in the back of Hercules’ mind.  He tried his hardest to ignore it, to control the excited trembling in his hands and wear the same stoic face that everyone was used to seeing from him, but it was impossible.  The more he fought it, the more it tried to worm its way to the forefront of his thoughts, commanding his attention…

Ya gonna ignore me all day, old man?

Herc prided himself in being able to keep an iron grip on his emotional state, but that voice broke through his control, already worn thin by the revelation that his son was alive.  He burst out laughing and crying in the same moment, eliciting stares from Tendo and Caitlin and a worried whimper from Crimson’s engines.

“I’m all right, I’m all right!” he insisted, waving their attentions away.  “It’s Striker sayin’ hello is all…”

Tendo’s jaw dropped.  “Striker’s alive?”

“His computer core must be still intact,” Caitlin noted, her face splitting in an eager grin.  “Another living Jaeger!”

Herc wiped furiously at his eyes, struggling to get himself under control.  He was an officer in the PPDC; he had a reputation to uphold, dammit.  But even he wasn’t immune to the rush of emotion that accompanied being reunited with a Jaeger he’d given up as destroyed.  Striker… the moment he’d felt that spark of sentience in the drift, he’d come to think of him as another son, a brother of sorts to Chuck.  And though Chuck had denied it at first, calling his father crazy for even entertaining the notion, soon he had come to accept Striker as part of their family as well.

When Chuck and Pentecost had detonated the bomb meant to destroy the Breach, Herc had given both his sons up for dead.  To know that they had somehow been granted a miracle, that he hadn’t just lost the last fragments of his family… it was more than a little overwhelming.

Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ sappy on me, old man.

“Don’t call me old man,” Herc grumbled under his breath, though his grin didn’t fade.  “An’ I’d given the both of you up for dead.  I’d say I got a right to be a little sappy.”

Maybe a little, Striker replied, sounding amused.  Don’t worry, Chuck’s fine.  A little grouchy, but when isn’t he?

“What about you?  You all right?”

Oh, just peachy, Striker grumbled.  Bloody fantastic.  Always wanted to be just a head, ya know?

Crimson stepped onto the island’s shore and crouched down, lowering his “passengers” to the sand.  A sizable crowd had gathered to watch Crimson’s approach, expressions of awe and wonder on each face save one.  Men and women gasped and murmured words that sounded remarkably like prayers, and children dashed forward to run circles around the Mark IV’s massive feet.  A few islanders even stepped forward to lay flower garlands and palm fronds on his feet, bowing and babbling in an unfamiliar language.  Crimson, for his part, looked profoundly embarrassed at the attention, ducking his Conn Pod and fidgeting all three of his hands together.  

A few of the islanders stepped forward to pay attention to Crimson’s human companions, and Tendo and Caitlin accepted the welcome, shaking hands and allowing a woman to drape leis of fresh flowers around their necks.  Herc brushed the attention off, holding a hand to stay the eager girl who wanted to loop a string of flowers over his head.  His attention was focused on the surly young man at the head of the group, arms folded over his chest, gaze fixed on the elder Hansen.

In a few ways, Chuck had changed remarkably over the past few months.  Herc had last seen him in his drive suit, but now he was bare-chested and wore what looked like a skirt or a kilt – a lava-lava, if Herc was remembering his terms right.  His skin was deeply tanned, though not nearly as dark as the islanders, and livid red-pink scars stood out on his skin where the circuitry of the drive suit had burned into his flesh.  A necklace of shells hung around his neck, bearing an abalone pendant with a reasonably-adept carving of Striker Eureka’s bulldog sigil on it.  Overall he looked more scarred and rugged than before, no longer a cocky fresh-faced rookie but a soldier who had undergone his baptism by fire and come back worn but stronger.

The younger Hansen’s expression hadn’t changed much from its usual default – sullen and angry, looking out at the world with judgmental eyes and finding it wanting.  But his eyes were bright with emotion, despite all his attempts to school his expression.

Don’t let the grumpy look fool ya, Striker advised.  He missed ya more than he’ll admit.

“Bloody hell, will you shut up, Striker,” Chuck muttered.

“Watch your mouth,” Herc snapped out of pure reflex.  “Have a lil’ respect for your Jaeger.”

“He sasses me plenty,” Chuck retorted.  “I should be able to sass back some.”

Father and son regarded each other for a long moment, neither speaking further, neither making a move to step closer or to do anything to break the ice between them.  Herc worked his jaw and looked down at the ground, struggling to hold back the tide of emotion.  Chuck, too, seemed to be holding back, rocking back and forth on his heels and trying to delay the inevitable.

Will ya two swallow your pride an’ hug each other already? Striker demanded.  I can read your thoughts, dammit.  I know ya missed each other, even if ya won’t say it out loud.  Let’s get the mushy stuff over with.

Chuck laughed softly.  “You were always blunt, Striker,” he noted, and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the elder Hansen.  

“Not too tight,” Herc warned, returning the embrace.  “Got somethin’ in my jacket.”

“Came all this way to smuggle me some good booze?” Chuck laughed, then yelped and pulled away as something began squirming under Herc’s jacket.  “The hell you got in there?”

“A friend,” Herc explained, unzipping his jacket enough for Bruno to poke his head out.  “Gift from the city of Sydney.  His name’s Bruno.  Been keeping Max company while you’ve been gone.”

“I go save the world an’ you replace me with a dog,” Chuck grumbled, but a smile lit up his face as he pulled the pup out of Herc’s coat.  “Cute lil’ devil…”

“Chuck Hansen!” Tendo exclaimed, waving away yet another islander trying to drape him with flowers.  “It’s good to see you again!  We all assumed you’d been killed when Striker’s payload detonated!”

Chuck smirked.  “Can’t get rid of me that easily.  Or Striker, for that matter.  We’re Aussies; we’re used to everythin’ tryin’ to kill us.”

“Point,” Tendo replied.  “We’d like to hear just how you managed to survive a nuclear explosion, though.  And with Striker’s Conn Pod intact, to boot.”

“We’re also here to retrieve the both of you, if possible,” Caitlin added.  “Do you think the natives will permit it?”

Chuck looked Dr. Lightcap up and down, his expression one of puzzled amusement. “Who’s the lady?  She’s not that bad to look at…”

Herc cuffed him on the back of the head, though not nearly hard enough to actually hurt.  “Have a lil’ respect for Dr. Lightcap, kid.  She’s the one that founded the Jaeger program.”

“…oh.”  Chuck looked away and hurriedly changed the subject.  “Yer gonna have to take that up with the elders.  They’ve adopted his head as a shrine, an’ they’re not gonna take kindly to havin’ that desecrated.”

My head ain’t a religious object, Striker grumbled.  

Herc couldn’t help a laugh.  “Here I thought you’d enjoy bein’ treated like a god, Striker.”

Did for the first lil’ while, Striker admitted.  But now it’s just annoying.  Bloody kooks keep throwin’ stuff on me, chanting gibberish all day, not givin’ me a moment’s peace.  Gets old.  An’ tellin’ ‘em to bugger off don’t help much – they think I’m givin’ them some kinda sign and just repeat it back to me.

“Wait, you can talk to the natives?” demanded Herc.

Caitlin’s eyes widened.  “Another Jaeger’s learned to communicate?  This is wonderful news!”

Takes some effort, Striker admitted.  Like I gotta “shout” my thoughts to be heard.  Gives Chuck headaches, so I don’t do it too often.

“The first couple weeks we were here he kept callin’ out for you,” Chuck told Herc.  “I got migraines, but I let him do it… he missed you.  Finally he figured you were just too far away and gave up.”

“Well… I’m here now,” Herc said with a smile.  “An’ we’re gonna try to get you two home.  Where’s this elder you’re talkin’ about?”

“Back at the village,” Chuck explained, waving them further inland.  “With Striker’s head.”

Tendo, Herc, and Caitlin trailed after Chuck, but a shuddering impact on the sandy beach made the young Ranger halt in his tracks and turn around, eyes wide.  Crimson had made to follow, but now regarded Chuck with a quizzical tilt of his Conn Pod.  The islanders had backed away from his feet, though out of respect more than terror, and they still chattered excitedly and regarded him with sheer awe instead of fear.

“He’s coming with us,” Tendo explained.  “There’ve been some interesting developments while you’ve been gone.  For one thing, a few of the Jaegers are now fully sentient… and moving under their own power.”

Chuck stared at him.  “You’re jokin’!”

“Nope,” Caitlin replied with a wide smile.  “It seems the secret’s out about the Jaegers, at least within the Shatterdome.  We’re still trying to keep it hush from the rest of the world.”

“And even better news,” Tendo added.  “Crimson and Cherno – and their Rangers – survived the double event.  And they’re recovering quite well.”

Chuck gave a disbelieving laugh and shook his head.  “Wow… that’s wild.  Guess me comin’ back from the dead is kinda boring in comparison, huh?”

“Walk an’ talk, all right?” Herc told him.  “We wanna hear everything.  How’d you escape?”

“Not much to tell,” Chuck replied as he led the way further inland, Crimson picking his way after them with infinite care.  “An’ I think it was Striker’s doin’ more than anythin’.”

Course it was! Striker cut in.  Jaegers protect humans.  Think I was gonna let you two vaporize yourselves when I could stop it?

“What’d Striker do?” asked Herc.

“Right after we activated the nuke, the Conn Pod detached,” Chuck explained.  “Always thought it was kinda stupid that they copied the Mark IIIs by makin’ his Conn Pod a separate piece instead of part of the Jaeger… but I guess it paid off.  We were already floatin’ to the surface when the bomb went off… an’ boy, was that a wild ride.  Never wanna do THAT again.”

“So Striker made his entire Conn Pod an escape pod,” Caitlin realized.  “Incredible.”

“Anyhow, by the time I came to, we were washin’ up onshore.  By the time I disengaged the harness an’ climbed out, the natives had found us.  Thought I was a goner, but… turns out it was a group of ‘em that considered the Jaegers gods for fightin’ the Kaiju.  They made a harness outta ropes to drag Striker’s Conn Pod to their village, an’ made it into a shrine.  An’ they let me hang around, I guess as kinda a high priest or somethin’.”

Tendo nodded slowly.  “It makes sense… but what about Pentecost?”

Chuck frowned and looked down at his feet before replying.  “He… he didn’t make it.  Dunno if it was gettin’ thrown around by the blast or just that a final drift was too much for ‘im.  But he was dead by the time we got to shore.  He’s buried back at the village.”

Tendo’s face fell – evidently he had been holding out hope for one last miracle.  But it wasn’t to be.  “Do you think they’ll allow us to take his body back with us?  I think many of us would appreciate the closure that a proper funeral would give us.”

Chuck shrugged.  “Don’t see why not.  They’re probably a lot more likely to give up Pentecost than Striker, actually.”

The unlikely group crested a small rise and were treated to a picturesque view of the island village… and of Striker Eureka’s Conn Pod.  The thatch-and-bark huts of the islanders were positively dwarfed by the Jaeger cockpit, and its metallic gleam and sharp lines contrasted with the rough-hewn walls of the natives’ homes.  Flowers, palm fronds, seashells, fruits, and carved wood or bone trinkets lay spread before the Conn Pod like offerings, or were draped in elaborate festoons over the metal.  An elderly man was carefully arranging said offerings to his liking and shooing away a flock of birds that were trying to help themselves to the fruits.

Tendo whistled softly.  “Here I thought the tabloids were exaggerating.”

“Yeah, some nosy reporter was here awhile back,” Chuck noted.  “Told her to get a message back to the Shatterdome if she could.  Guess she figured sellin’ her scoop was more important, though.”

“Her message came back,” Tendo replied.  “Just not in the way you expected.”

“Point.”  Chuck walked up to the Conn Pod and patted its side.  “You ready to go home, Striker?”

Am I ever, Striker huffed.  Then his “voice” intensified, as if he were shouting.  YA HEAR THAT, BLOODY WANKERS?  WE’RE BLOWIN’ THIS JOINT!  NOW COME GET THIS CRAP OFF ME!

“Watch your mouth, Striker!” Herc snapped.

The elderly man fussing with the offerings jumped in place at Striker’s mental shout, dropping the handful of flowers he’d been clutching.  “Wankers!” he exclaimed, and turned to bow deeply toward the Conn Pod.

FOR CHRISSAKES, STOP THAT!

“Chrissakes, stop that!” he repeated, an enormous smile on his face.

Chuck looked torn between laughing in amusement and facepalming in exasperation.  “Shut it, Striker, an’ let me handle this.”  He put a hand on the old man’s shoulder and spoke a few words in whatever dialect these particular islanders used.  The man spoke animatedly, waving his hands, and Chuck sighed and turned to the others.

“He says if we take Striker, the villagers’ll resist,” he replied.  “Maybe violently.  As far as they’re concerned, Striker’s presence protects the island.  They’re not about to give that up.”

I’ll give ‘em violence if they want it, Striker growled.

“Striker, you’re a talking head,” Chuck pointed out.  “What’re ya gonna do, swear at ‘em?”

Crimson crouched lower at that moment, still towering over the three humans but making some effort to put himself closer to their level.  The elder murmured softly and fell to his knees before Crimson, hands raised in supplication.  Crimson crooned deeply and reached out with one finger, lowering it with infinite care until the old man could reach out and touch it with his own hands.  For a long moment Jaeger and islander remained frozen in place, Crimson thrumming and the elder’s eyes shining with emotion.

The elder spoke a few more words, patting Crimson’s finger, then lowered his hands and turned to Striker.  He bowed deeply to the Conn Pod, spoke a little more, and walked away, still with that beatific smile on his face.  Chuck just stared, as if not sure what had just happened.


“What did he say?” asked Caitlin.

“That if ‘the red one’ – Crimson – wants to call his friend home, he’s welcome to do it.”  He shook his head.  “Damn, I knew people idolized the Jaegers, but not literally.  Still surprises me.”

Herc relaxed at that.  One more challenge surmounted.  Though some small part of him wondered if rescuing Striker from the island would actually benefit him.  The Shatterdome was barely scraping by as it was, and after Gipsy and Coyote’s repairs, they had nothing left to finance a complete rebuild of Striker, even if they resorted to junked Jaeger parts to do so.  Had they saved one of their own, only for him to remain helpless and crippled for the rest of his days?

He pushed those thoughts aside.  He had his sons back.  A miracle had been granted today.  That was good enough for now.

“Crimson, get Striker’s head back to the ship.  Chuck, Tendo… let’s find Pentecost’s grave.  Mako an’ Coyote deserve some closure.”

***

Cherno was bored.

It was late at night in Hong Kong, and the Shatterdome was largely silent.  A few techs were still working on Coyote, smoothing out the last of her repairs and replacing the wiring and plating that had decayed during her years in Oblivion Bay, but otherwise there were no humans in the Jaeger bay.  Even the Rangers had retired for the night, opting to go to their own quarters instead of spending the night in the hangars.  

Cherno fidgeted his hands together, wishing he had some company.  Too bad Crimson wasn’t here.  The Mark IV was always the source of some great stories, collecting Jaeger lore and perfectly happy to share it with anyone who would listen.  But no, the lucky mech was off bringing Striker home, having his own adventure and leaving Cherno to die of boredom back at the base.

His parents might have been good company.  Ever since he had achieved full sentience they had taken to sleeping in his hangar, even having a bed moved in beside him so they wouldn’t have to leave his side unless absolutely necessary.  But tonight they had declared a “date night,” and gone to their own room for some privacy.  They assured Cherno that he would see them again in the morning, and he believed them, but all the same, it left him feeling restless… and not a little irritated.  He didn’t understand what they were doing, only felt through the drift that they were enjoying it very much.

Humans are strange, he concluded finally.  Despite loving Mama and Papa and pledging to protect them and all humankind, he found a lot of their practices baffling.

His engines groaned in dismay as he leaned against the wall of his hangar.  Lightcap, he was bored.  Usually, even if his parents weren’t around, he could find some entertainment in Crimson.  But only Gipsy and Coyote were here, and despite having mellowed over the past few days Coyote was still snappish and antisocial with everyone but Gipsy and Mako.  Somehow he doubted she’d be up for a game of Go or checkers.

Gipsy, though… perhaps she could help alleviate his boredom.  Ever since Mako had gotten her that projection screen she’d been absorbed in watching things, but perhaps she’d at least let him watch with her.  She wasn’t the selfish sort, and unless her trip to the Anteverse and back had drastically altered her personality, he was sure she’d let him sit by her.

The blue Jaeger turned slightly as he approached her hangar, and she “nudged” him happily and patted the floor beside her.  He obliged, settling his bulk in as carefully as he could.

What’s this? he asked, pointing at the screen.

An anime, Gipsy replied.  Mako calls it Brave Police.  It’s about robots too!  They’re not as big as us and they don’t have Rangers, but they’re still cool.

Can I watch too?

Sure.  You missed the first couple episodes, though.  I’d go back for you but only Mako can work the controls.  My hands are too big.

That’s okay.  How is it so far?

Pretty fun.  Deckerd’s the best part of it, though.  He turns into a police car!  And he’s noble and brave, just like a Jaeger should be!  And I like his face – I know Jaegers don’t have faces, not like human ones, but his face is pretty nice…

Cherno’s engine stuttered in a laugh.  You like him!

What?

You have a crush on a robot in a cartoon!

Do not!  She lightly punched his arm, the clang of metal on metal echoing through the bay and startling the technicians working on Coyote.  I think he’s cool, but I don’t have a crush!

Do too, he giggled.

Do not!

Coyote gave a warning snarl.  Children, behave.  Don’t make me come over there.

Cherno quieted down, though he couldn’t suppress his amusement.  Gipsy pretended to sulk as she returned her attention to the cartoon, but her bad mood didn’t last very long.

I’m starting to get tired of just watching stuff all day, she admitted.  I know it’s bad to think it, but… I almost wish we’d get another Kaiju.  Or Mustang going crazy again.  Anything to get out of the base for a little bit.

I thought you were scared of fighting Kaiju again.

I was scared of seeing Leatherback again.  After what the first one did to you and Crimson… I didn’t want to see his ugly face again.  But if they send another Kaiju, I’m more than ready!  She pretended to crack her knuckles.  So long as it’s not a clone of Knifehead, I guess…

Despite himself, Cherno couldn’t help but silently agree with her.  He was starting to get tired of the Shatterdome.  Not the people in it – his family was here, and he considered the other Jaegers and many of the humans his friends.  But he was starting to feel antsy, almost claustrophobic, from seeing the same walls around him day after day.  He wanted to go out, to see the city at night with his own visual sensors and not through his parents’ eyes, to feel the surf on his legs and the wind on his plating.  

But Tendo had made the rules clear before he left – the Jaegers were not allowed outside unless there was another Kaiju attack.  They couldn’t risk the PPDC learning the truth about the Jaegers, not right now.

It’s not fair, Gipsy huffed.  We’ve spent so long helping humans.  Why would they be scared if they learned we were alive?

Humans are strange, Cherno replied, drawing his knees up to his chest.  They like to be in control of things, I guess.  Even with us – they built us so they would be in control no matter what.  Tendo thinks that if the humans in charge learned that we were out of their control, they’d want us destroyed.

But we’ve never hurt humans before.  Not on purpose, anyhow… I know sometimes we destroyed property, but that wasn’t ever on purpose!

Cherno shrugged, not having an answer.  He knew a lot of the fear had to do with size – a Jaeger didn’t have to be malicious to cause a lot of death and destruction, a fact the Shatterdome could attest to multiple times.  But all the same, if they just had a chance to prove themselves, perhaps people would think differently.

Something “nudged” at him again, and he turned to find Gipsy looking at him instead of giving her attention to the anime.  Jaeger faces weren’t built to convey emotion, but she practically radiated mischief and anticipation anyhow.

Let’s go outside.

Cherno whined and made a negative gesture with one hand.  Tendo said to stay in the Shatterdome.

Tendo’s not here.  He doesn’t have to find out.

Gipsy, we’re huge!  We’re not going to be able to sneak in and out that easy!

Okay, so Tendo will find out, but it’s not like we’re going to hurt anything.  Just go outside, go for a walk, and then come back in.  If people ask questions, our Rangers are just taking us for test runs.  Besides, I want to see Hong Kong when I’m not being distracted by Kaiju.  I didn’t get a good look at it last time, but what I saw was beautiful.  I want a closer look.

Cherno looked toward Coyote, wondering if the gray Jaeger was hearing this.  If she had overheard, however, she gave no sign.  She had leaned back and tilted her Conn Pod toward the ceiling to allow the techs to access the wiring in her “neck” connections.  Reassured that she was occupied for the moment, he turned back to Gipsy.

What if we get caught?  Or worse, what if a Kaiju comes while we’re gone?

If we’re caught, we freeze and play dead until the Shatterdome comes back for us.  Tendo and Raleigh will come up with a cover story.  If a Kaiju comes, we’ll hear the sirens.  And we’ll be ready to fight anyhow.

You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?

The feeling she gave off could best be described as a smirk.  Ever since I got new legs.

Something told Cherno this wasn’t a good idea.  But he couldn’t deny that the thought of going outside and stretching his legs sounded wonderful right now.  And he’d been wanting a chance to explore a bit on his own for a while.  When would they get this chance again?  Besides, they were Jaegers.  There wasn’t a whole lot anyone could do to stop them from leaving.

We’d better hurry, Cherno said at last, pushing himself to his feet and offering his hand to Gipsy.  If we’re gone for too long, my parents and your brother might worry.

She nodded.  We’ll only be gone an hour.  Just long enough to get a good look at the city.  Come on, this way!  They never close the main doors all the way.

The techs were so used to the Jaegers getting up and milling about by now that they didn’t question why Gipsy and Cherno were walking toward the main doors until they had already forced them open.  By the time they thought to call in an alarm to the LOCCENT, where Bailey kept watch over things in Tendo’s stead, they were gone.

Coyote growled and ordered the techs working on her neck to buzz off, then stood once she was sure they were a safe distance away.  Lightcap dammit, this base was full of children instead of competent Jaegers.  Someone was going to have to go after those two and make sure they didn’t do anything stupid, and it looked like it was going to have to be her.