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[ Movement detected. Warning. Kaiju detected in breach. Class three. Codename Hammerhead ]
Kevin was startled out of sleep by the first alarm, but just wiped a quick hand over his face to clear away the sleep and check the screen. Red proximity messages flashed, and stats on the target scrolled by as quickly as the techs watching the radar could enter them.
Kevin grinned, and kicked off his blankets in a flash. Standing, he grabbed his discarded shirt from being draped over the chair next to the bed and hurriedly pulled it on.
“Wake up, babe! Come on, come on. Class three off the coast of California.”
Jordan made a disgruntled little noise and slowly rolled over to blearily try and focus on Kevin.
“What? Huh?”
With her blonde hair tousled and blinking like a mole at the red warnings and louder banging on the door to their quarters, Kevin felt no shame in giving into temptation. Mostly by bouncing on the edge of Jordan’s side of the bed, and leaning in to kiss her soundly.
“They’re playing our song.”
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Five years since the Flynns had become the first line of defense for the California coastline. And in that time their story had become a bit ‘larger than life’. A programmer from silicon valley joined the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps as a tech first. But through a combination of hard work and sheer dumb luck, he became one of the youngest, but brightest Mark 2 pilots in the corps.
The fact that Kevin Flynn seemed to be made for the limelight didn’t hurt either.
One would think that the cheerfully brash, and very charismatic jaeger pilot would all but overshadow his teammate. She was beautiful, blonde, and just as instrumental in the development of the Mark 3 series, with Regulator Gold as their flagship. Jordan wasn’t interested in the notoriety, preferring her work to the television cameras or giving a good sound byte. But when the gossips turned out to be right, and Regulator Gold’s team got married in a small ceremony on-base, the public went mad. The real life drama of jaeger pilot rock stars eclipsed any Hollywood production by a mile.
Kevin Flynn and Jordan Canas didn’t have the largest number of kaiju kills, or the largest jaeger design, but they were easier for the public to identify with. They were a family. And after a year of marriage, while successfully preventing a kaiju from making landfall in San Diego, the Flynn family officially grew again.
The “Little Flynn”, Sam, was immortalized when a photographer snapped a picture of Jordan holding her young son while still kitted out in her neural link armor. Thus the Flynns became a walking morale upgrade for the entire jaeger program. They were proof to the men and women who served in the PPDC that having a life was possible. That they were fighting for something real and tangible.
But on July 10th, 2020, everything changed.
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“Regulator Gold ready for drop.” Jordan confirmed as she tested the clamps on her boots. Kevin was still tapping at something on the monitor but absently answered a short “Confirm, Regulator Gold is go for drop.” But continued to frown.
“Kevin, if you don’t stop fiddling I’m going to smack you.” Jordan sighed. Kevin gave a smirk back that might have been going for sheepish, but fell short somewhere in impish. Whatever he was going to say was lost when the sensation of gravity dropping out from under both pilots. The headpiece and cockpit of Regulator Gold dropped into place, melding seamlessly with the heavy “body” of the jaeger.
“Uplink running?” Kevin asked instead, and leaned back so that he could slide his left hand into the neural glove. Ops confirmed, and Roy added a cheesed “Houston we’re go for launch” that earned a deadpan look from both Kevin and Jordan.
“Engage pilots final protocol.” Roy repeated over the comms line, all traces of humor gone. Marshall Gibbs must have come up to hover behind him.
Jordan tested her fingers inside the left side neural glove and both pilots took deep breaths simultaneously.
“Engaging Neural Handshake in five…four….three…two…”
[Neural Handshake Initiated]
Smiles in the sunshine, light glaring off chrome
-Do you take this woman in sickness and in health
Surfing with Lora – she warned me about you, Kevin Flynn
-For better or for worse
Sam’s first steps, toddling and grinning – so proud, look at him
-For richer or for poorer
A kiss, a slap – yeah but it was worth it
Running lights under waves, hi Clu
-Til death do you part
Scent of men’s cologne, Jordan in a man’s shirt and nothing else
-I do
Deep breath, exhale, and a shared smile. It’s all that matters in the Drift, that comfortable quiet.
"Left hemisphere ready," said Kevin, tensing his fingers into a fist then relaxing so the jaeger’s A.I. could translate the muscle movement into motion for the massive metal hands of the battle mech. “Right hemisphere calibrated.” Answered Jordan, the easy zen stillness of her mind hardly causing a ripple in the connection between pilot and machine.
Nothing can keep us down, babe. Let’s—
“-- go to work.”
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At 75 meters tall and 1,800 tons, Regulator Gold’s independent walking speed was still beating the choppers by the time the jaeger made it to the shallows ten miles off the coast. The lights of the highway were all but invisible out here, but contact confirmed.
“We’re in position, target two miles out and closing.” Jordan reported through the comm.
“Big sucker, but I don’t see him. Repeat, no visual.” Kevin confirmed as both his head and Regulator Gold’s swiveled back and forth to look for the telltale wake.
“One mile, it’s closing right in front of us. Radar says it’s almost on top of us.” Jordan repeated, her anxiety translating through the Drift. Kevin felt it, breathed through it, and both let it pass.
“I don’t see anyth—2 o’clock!” Kevin called out, drawing his left arm up to his chest as Jordan mirrored his defensive position and Regulator Gold braced for impact. In a storm of bony crown and bioluminescent lights, the kaiju broke through the waves of it’s own wake. It came out swinging, too, with a massive set of claws ramming into Regulator’s defensive arm with enough force to rock the jaeger onto it’s back foot. Inside the cockpit, the pilots both mirrored the move, trying to stabilize while the massive bony dome on the kaiju’s head followed up with a headbutt that was more like a giant sledgehammer ramming into Regulator Gold’s cockpit. Sirens squealed, sparks flew and the surge of adrenaline spiked into excitement inside the Drift.
“Light it up, Flynn!” Jordan yelled over the wail of integrity damage and red light flashing. She didn’t have to tell him, because Kevin was already spreading his fingers and activating the 105mm sabot round loaded howitzer mounted in the left “bicep” of Regulator Gold. In tandem both pilots raised their arms, using several tons of metal fist to drill the kaiju in it’s softer underbelly, then again, then finally grabbing onto the bony “nose” protrusion and shoving until Regulator Gold could tear it’s arm free of crushing jaws.
Here’s the line up – and the pitch!
But it wasn’t. Nothing happened. The molten rounds did not light up the night sky, and all that did light up was another flurry of red warning sirens. The mechanism was damaged, front loading offline, and with six out of twelve armor plates torn or wrenched badly, the canon was effectively offline.
“No good, 105 is damaged and shoulder rotor isn’t responding right—“
There’s no time for report back to Ops. No time to hear alternatives. Hammerhead had recovered and broken through the waves again. Only this time the eerily agile kaiju had been able to move faster that Regulator Gold could in the water. Category three, and Hammerhead outweighed a 3 by at least another 600 tons. But all of those things were secondary, because Regulator Gold’s “head” had been forced to pull a whiplash maneuver in order for the shock absorbers to stay attached. Thus, the jaeger pilots were being tossed around like ragdolls inside, and had they not been clamped into their neural armor, would have been little better off than scrambled eggs.
The adrenaline spiked excitement was bleeding into real fear, but the Drift was still strong.
We can still do this!
Jordan was faster at combat tactics than Kevin, she recovered her wits first. Flynn just let Canas lead with the massive metal elbow backwards, slamming into the kaiju’s throat. Left arm was damaged, but finger mobility was still functioning at 44%. They grabbed for the kaiju’s deep set eyesocket, and yanked.
Physics was on their side, and Hammerhead went flying into the dark to crash through choppy seas.
Panting with a mix of his fear, his wife’s fear, exertion and rupture in his oxygen line, Kevin tried flexing Regulator Gold’s hand again. There was a stutter, a start, and the overloaded circuits transmitting a sensation of pain.
“Listen, I’ve still got the arc saw!” Jordan was saying. Kevin could get better thoughts and impressions through the Drift, but verbal communication was instinct and Ops needed to hear what was happening too. ‘We can do this, just follow my lead and we’ll be fine Kev—“
“Regulator Gold, eyes up, target is mobile and closing!”
Roy’s warning was timely, but not enough. The deck swam in a wash of red and the bright light shining of Jordan’s blonde hair. How was this creature so fast? The thought was echoed through the Drift, but no time. No time.
The kaiju was on them again, the heavy back claws raking at Regulator Gold’s legs, rending the left knee joint apart and causing Kevin to reflexively yell from the hot slice of neural circuit pain. Claws that could shred tank armor dug into the right side of the jaeger’s chest plating, getting a good grip and doing damage in the process. And then the hammer came down.
The bony domed skull of the kaiju collided with Regulator Gold’s cracked visor and shattered the screen in an explosion of metal, mylar, and a burst of terrified agony through the Drift.
“JORDAN!”
No, no, no
Kevin I’m scared
It’ll be alright I’ve got you, I’m right here with you.
Kevin’s hand was still strapped in but with the jaeger’s left arm nonresponsive Kevin’s right hand could try to reach for his copilot. His wife.
…Who’s helmet had a burst of red obscuring part of her face. And a four foot shard of Regulator Gold’s visor impaling her through the chest like a glassine pike.
I can’t breathe.
You’re right here with me.
I don’t want to die.
“You’re okay. You’re alright, Don’t look down, look at me, I’m—“
Another world-shattering blow from the kaiju stole words and thoughts. The Drift was only pain, fear, helplessness. Sparks flew and bright glowing blue from Hammerhead’s damaged eyesocket splattered the open cockpit. The screen was gone, Regulator Gold down to one leg and one arm functional. Core still intact. Still standing.
They can’t keep us down, babe.
Silence. The Drift is supposed to be still and calm. The eye at the center of the storm. But this was more than that. This was silence that deafened Kevin to all else. The pain and fear, the helpless anger echoed away into the Drift, but there was no return. No mirror. Just his own heartbeat pounding dull in his head, oxygen loss increasing. And then the jaeger’s AI, for lack of having a second pilot to share the neural load, defaulted back to Kevin. The charge was enough to make him spasm in his harness, fingers tensing and he could taste the scorch of ozone on his tongue.
Pain, fear, helplessness. But anger…anger was useful.
Gritting his teeth, Kevin managed to swap out his glove from the left to the right hand. Jordan’s had gone unresponsive, and the jaeger’s A.I. was furiously trying to reroute enough functioning support to increase her oxygen flow, and seal the breaches in her suit. It was trying to save her, but that monotone flat line wouldn’t flicker. Kevin paid it no mind. He would end this, and take them both home.
Tensing his right hand’s fingers, Flynn and Regulator Gold managed to free the right arm from the kaiju’s claws. Regulator Gold’s “hand” realigned itself as the massive black ring moved down from it’s housing in the forearm to secure at the end of the wrist. The arc cutter was experimental – a discus ring that circulated superheated plasma at 22,000 cycles per minute. In theory it could cut through just about anything.
And as Kevin sacrificed the damaged left arm to Hammerhead’s teeth, he proved that the arc could slice through a kaiju’s neck and gullet like a hot knife through butter. Bioluminescent blue glowed as the arterial spray painted the damaged jaeger, but the molten yellow of the arc cutter burned right through. The kaiju had no throat left to scream with, but it’s back claws scrambled in panicked death throes. So Kevin brought the arc down again. And again. And did not stop until he could not find the bony crest of the kaiju’s head in the mess of glowing blue.
Silence. Kevin could distantly feel the chilly spray of the sea on his face. His helmet’s visor had broken at some point, but he couldn’t remember when. The comm was a mess, the whole cockpit was a mess. It was a miracle that the harness was still connecting Flynn to the jaeger. A miracle Regulator Gold was still standing, even if the jaeger was pouring smoke from it’s shoulder mounted exhaust ports.
“It’s okay, Jordan. It’s gone now. We did it.”
Cold silence. Flynn distantly felt that, too. He felt raw all over, like all of his skin had been peeled away and all that was left underneath was the lump of sick dread sitting heavily in his chest somewhere. The wash of cold numbness took that. And then there was nothing. Nothing but Flynn reaching for Jordan’s hand with the neural glove still attached to his. Regulator Gold mimicked the movement, but the jaeger was only reaching out toward the ocean and the night.
And maybe that was fitting too.
“Let’s go home.”
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It took rescue and recovery teams a full 2 hours to default back to satellite tracking, and activate the beacon embedded in Regulator Gold. It took Kevin Flynn 3 hours to limp the damaged jaeger mech through the shallows and onto a public beach.
By the time recovery helicopters landed, set up the necessary plasma cutters needed to penetrate a jaeger’s armored plating, and carefully work their way into the damaged cockpit of Regulator Gold, Kevin Flynn had been strapped into the neural bridge with his deceased copilot for 5 hours total.
Reports later indicated that even when Flynn lost consciousness due to the leak in his oxygen line, he did not let go of Jordan Canas’ hand until rescue and recovery managed to remove her from her harness.