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“Jyn! Listen to me! Trust in the drift, you have to-”
The sentence died in a howl of torn metal and the shriek of the monster that just robbed her of her bond, her co-pilot, her mother. She doesn't remember her own pain in that moment, only her mother's desperate, screaming agony. There was a tear, the neural load being all at once ripped away and then doubly forced upon her already crumbling fortitude.
The burden echoed along every synapse and cell of her own body. It was a phantom misery, haunting every move she now made as she struggled to block the attack of the Kaiju. She was barely able to heave her Jaeger's arm up enough to deflect a swipe from the roaring monster. The impact pushed her back and she snapped against a glacial piece of rock jutting out from the water.
“Trust in the drift!” Her mother's voice echoed against the inside of her head, deafening and punishing and by God she screamed until her throat felt like glass. Tears of loss and pain fell from her eyes and she gasped to breathe as the beast rammed it's head straight through the side of her Jaeger. Her ribs set ablaze with what she knew was the finishing blow for the machine she piloted.
But she always fought against the odds. She was always a little bit rebellious. Her mother had taught her that. Right now, it wasn't the drift she could trust; it was that deep, stubborn instinct punching it's way across every last fiber of her strength.
Her plasma cannon was charging, and each second it did, the Kaiju ripped more of her Jaeger apart. She felt every wire and scrap of metal as if it were her own flesh being torn piece by piece and flung into the icy waters now prickling her skin through the cracks in her armor.
With a final screamed curse, Jyn fired her cannon into the Kaiju, pooling the last of her energy into one, ultimate explosion. The suit could only block so much of the blast, and she swore her heart stopped and her vision blurred, even as she squeezed them shut.
“Jyn! Listen to me!”
Her eyes flew open and she bolted awake from her sleep with a puff of air and adrenaline. Something wet hit the top of her head and made her shiver. Even in her hidden alcove next to the lockers of the rest area, the harsh elements of the Alaskan wilderness still found it's way inside.
As she got up from her spot and flexed her stiff muscles, she remembered why she hated the time between shifts. When she could, she would pick up double shifts. She didn't keep much of a social life and time off just seemed like a waste.
When she was up high enough to touch the clouds, among an endless horizon of metal lattice and durasteel plates, she could lose herself in the work. She could lose herself in the routine, and not think about anything, and most of all, not dwell on memories.
Work, rest, eat, repeat. Some of the other men and women she worked with called it a prisoner's life. It wasn't too far of an analogy.
She was about to heat up a tray of frozen food in the line of microwaves, to continue the normalcy, when people began to gather near the news feed station. Someone clamored for the volume to be raised and she couldn't help but peer up at the dusty, old flat screens.
“-I'm here at the New Bay Bridge, where earlier today a Category 4 Kaiju tore through the Pac Coastal Wall in less than an hour! The Shield Wall had been deemed impenetrable by it's builders.”
The American newscaster announced as footage of a Kaiju bursting through the San Francisco wall like it was nothing but a minor obstacle.
“Decommissioned just days earlier, Jaeger Redwing Force, piloted by Luke Skywalker and Biggs Darklighter, finally took the beast down.”
Jyn watched with keen eyes, even amid the shake of the civilian video clips, as the Jaeger hammered away with speed and accuracy. It was a strange sort of pride and jealousy, watching the Jaeger and it's pilots quickly wrestle the Kaiju and pummel it with rockets. Her free hand clenched in a fist as the monster was finally killed.
Close videos of the pilots, still in their polished silver and white suits, flashed on the screen. One, a shaggy-haired blond with sparkling blue eyes, gave a cheeky smirk to the camera before saying, “look, mediocre pilots can be any program's downfall. This is Redwing's tenth kill to date. New record. Just like bull's-eyeing prairie dogs back home.”
She kind of wanted to punch him; across the ocean and through the screens, she wanted to smack that arrogant, naive grin off his face.
Another reporter pressed on with questions for the pilots. “Are you still headed for the Alliance Hong Kong HQ, at a time like this?”
“We have to follow orders. There's a plan.” With that he turned away, distracted by his co-pilot's hushed whispers in his ear.
“That was Luke Skywalker, one of the pilots that took down the Kaiju here in San Francisco,” the reporter continued as more footage of the demolished hole in the wall.
People around her began to protest loudly, the initial shock of a Kaiju attack melted into a panicked fury. “What are we even doing building this thing!” Some questioned. Others just cursed. Jyn was silent.
Until she heard the high clip of blades against the cold air outside the building. She weaved through the bodies of the crowd and came out the loading bay doors to see a black, military helicopter landing quickly on the concrete pad. Her feet were heavy but some kind of damn loyalty made her continue to advance on the two men who approached her.
“Marshal Draven,” Jyn addressed the man she knew, giving him a sarcastic salute. “Few more gray hairs, I see.”
Draven straightened his black jacket and gave her an impatient glare with a withering sigh. “It's been a long time... Jyn Erso. Or is it Liana here?”
“Keeping tabs on me? Touching.”
“You were hard to track. Different alias, different city, different piece of wall.” The way he sneered that last word gave her every indication of what he felt about the wall that was supposed to replace his Jaeger program. “Melshi here was finally able to track you to this company.”
The worn man next to Draven nodded, his fur-lined trapper hat covering most of his face. He seemed just as interested to be there as she did. They shared eye contact for a fleeting moment before she glared defiantly back at Draven.
“What do you want? You can't be that desperate for pilots?” Jyn snapped, even though it was evident at how forced his cordial expression was, that she was indeed right.
“I've spent the last 6 months activating everything I can get my hands on. Even an old Mark 3. Rogue class.” Draven let that sink in for her. She fought the urge to shiver, the thought of her and her mother's Jaeger being recommissioned felt like someone knocking over a gravestone. “It needs a pilot.”
She let out a breath she had been holding, hoping it came out sounding like a scoff and not something more telling. “I'm guessing I wasn't the first choice.”
There was hesitation on Draven's face. He said nothing.
“There's something else, isn't there?”
His next words were slow, careful. “When was the last time you had contact with Galen?”
One of her gloved hands touched her other arm's wrist and encircled it, gripping tight. “My father? Why?”
Draven gave a conspiratory glance around, something she would have found funny had her father not been mentioned. “We need to bring him in. To talk to our own research division.”
“If you could find me, why haven't you been able to find him?”
“We think he may be with Saw Gerrera, the Kaiju black market dealer.”
She didn't need to be told who Saw Gerrera was. “And what makes you think I can get you to Saw? You both have a deal, don't you? They fund you and in return you give them what they want: Kaiju remains.”
“The deal ended when Lyra died,” Draven said bluntly. “She was our contact to Saw, always. We can't get close to him now.”
“Not only do you need me to get to Saw, but you need the funds again. I assume that stopped five years ago, too?”
“And I do need a Mark 3 pilot. All the others are dead.”
“Lucky me.” Jyn crossed her arms over her chest, looking to the sky as she rolled her eyes.
“I have a handful of candidates to see if you are compatible. I think it would benefit everyone if you would come with us,” Draven offered in a flat tone. He was always shit at this sort of thing, and Jyn knew he must actually be desperate if this was his best at cordiality.
Something in her burned; lingering memories of her mother. She had always been better at dealing with his stern and dry personality than herself. Jyn closed her eyes, and opened them slowly, before gritting out, “I can't have anyone in my head again. I was still connected when she died.”
For a brief moment he looked just a grieved as she was. But instead of that emotion lighting aflame, like it so often did with her, he squashed it down under a professional blank face and set jaw. He was silent as she continued.
“I don't think I can go through that again,” Jyn warned. “And I wouldn't place that mental burden on anyone else, especially some rookie you recruited off the street with delusions of grandeur about becoming a hero.”
Draven had the alarming audacity to smirk at her. His smug, fond smile made his eyes twinkle. The urge to punch someone was building again. “Let's save the world, Jyn. Big damn heroes.”
She cursed. How long ago had she said that to him? She had to have been sixteen, a kid off the streets of London with her headstrong mother behind her, just as passionate and fierce as she was to save the planet.
Jyn had been a naive fool back then. Sometimes, even in a world with Kaiju and Jaegers, things never changed.
It was raining when they finally arrived at the Alliance Headquarters on the shore of Hong Kong Bay. Jyn had one backpack over her shoulder, the sparse contents rattling around as she moved quickly under an umbrella handed to her by Melshi, who scampered off soon after.
The tarmac was a bustling horde of equipment and personnel, even in the downpour. It truly was an Alliance, as she saw insignia from many different countries attributed to Jaeger programs. Over the intercom squawked announcements in several languages and she saw a British man shouting in choppy Japanese, hovering over encased Kaiju remains.
There were two silhouettes ahead of them, one holding a large umbrella over both of the figures. Draven led her close enough that their umbrella's touched, creating a temporary bubble of relief from the rain.
“Jyn Erso, this is Lady Mothma, former Prime Minister, as you may have recognized her.”
“Of course,” Jyn remarked, nodding her head. Mothma was a tall, elegant woman whom Jyn had only seen in the news. It was no surprise that the former Prime Minister could wear a regulation uniform and still manage to look like a regal figurehead.
Mothma had been one of the founders of the Jeager Program at it's infancy, negotiating between countries to organize resources and pilots. She was a legend, and Jyn tried to hide her awe. It became apparently easy as her gaze shifted to the cold brown eyes belonging to the man next to her. He was holding the umbrella's pole in a tight grip, and a clipboard in the crook of his other arm, his gaze flicking over her carefully.
“This is Cassian Andor, one of our most dedicated. He is also the one in charge of the Rogue Class restoration program. He picked your copilot candidates himself.” Draven introduced.
Jyn glanced over this Cassian person, noting he looked a little rough around the edges, but otherwise collected and focused. If he had an emotion in that moment, Jyn had no guess at what it was.
Instead of introducing himself further, he turned to Mothma and muttered politely, “No es lo que esperaba.”
Mothma had a smile in her eyes, but before she could answer him, Jyn scoffed loudly, catching his attention.
Their eyes met, and Jyn quirked an eyebrow. “Buena o mala?”
Still no emotion, not even a tinge of embarrassment. “Lo siento, Miss Erso.” A pause as his eyes flicked over her again. “I've heard a lot about you,” he replied, his accent clipped with his gravelly tone.
He still didn't answer her question, she mused. He was sizing her up, calculating. No judging, simply observation. It still unnerved her.
Lady Mothma had the grace to shift direction. “I want you to see the facility, Jyn, then Cassian will show you to your Jaeger. Please, come this way.”
Jyn fell into step with Cassian, defiantly following close to Mothma as she led them to an elevator. Draven was on their heels, almost forgotten as they huddled into the large cargo lift. Jyn noticed several specimens and containers full of equipment crowding the space. One tank with a wiggling Kaiju body part stole her interest for a moment and she leaned closer, a morbid fascination with the hunk of flesh.
“Stay back.” A voice from the doorway warned, as a tall British man stalked up to her, his pale eyes glaring down a narrow nose at her. “I'm a Kaiju scientist and astrophysicist. Do not even try to get close.” His smug posture made him seem even taller in his wet, black trench coat. “Kaiju specimens are extremely rare. Look with your eyes, not your hands,” he scolded.
“Oh, I think I know quite a bit about close, hands-on experience with those rare specimens,” she taunted back. The look on the taller man's face was shocked perturbance. She had a feeling he was not challenged often. She pointed to a book in his hand, a familiar Kaiju on the cover. “Like that little Kaiju? Grievous? My mother and I took him down in 2017.”
“One of the largest Category 3's. Approximately 2,502 tons,” he supplied in a monotone.
“Yeah, I know. 2,500 tons of rare specimen no one would even be able to study if not for the Jaegers.” Jyn and the other Brit shared a tense eye-lock.
Just as the taller man was taking a deep breath to say something, Cassian lodged himself between them, a hand on the other man's shoulder. The minor deflation from the taller man was evident.
The lift stopped and opened not a moment too soon, and the scientist excused himself quickly, hauling his equipment behind him and down a side passageway.
“Excuse Kay, he tends to say whatever is on his mind,” Cassian said casually, like he had to use that line often.
“Bit like a machine, that one.” Jyn stepped off the lift with the others in tow. She shot Draven a glare. “That's your Research Division?”
“Things have changed, Jyn,” Draven replied.
Mothma held out a palm to invite her into the main hallway that led to a large shield door. “We aren't an army here, Jyn,” she said to her, “we're the resistance.”
Cassian continued ahead of them to punch in the codes to open the door. Mothma turned her gaze to the door as it opened, looking sideways to Jyn. Light and sound flooded Jyn's senses as the main hanger was revealed.
“Welcome to the Alliance.”