Chapter Text
There had to be a smarter way to make people into pilots, and make them last. And so Project Quarry was born - children handpicked using a set of perimeters modelled on the traits of successful pilots, encouraged to grow into the types of personalities that tended to be drift compatible while being trained to be good fighters and keen strategists.
The isolated environment of the Quarry was designed to encourage bonding. It had unpredictable results. Many of the kids missed their parents. The realisation that only the most successful few would become members of the jaeger program made them competitive, viciously so. The drop-out rate within the first five years hovered around 50%.
Gerard’s parents hadn’t wanted him to be a pilot. He was supposed to go to a good school, get decent grades and have a perfectly nice life. His family were well off enough to ensure that. After all, the monsters at the gate didn’t stop people needing brain surgery.
The first time he saw Coyote Tango fight on TV, though, he knew. He didn’t want a comfortable, easy life. He wanted to fight monsters.
*
In round five of the entrance tests, Gerard saw Cesc Fabregas for the first time. He was the only one who scored higher than Gerard. Which was pretty impressive for a scruffy, skinny kid who didn’t know his elbow from his knee, and Gerard said so, at volume.
The very first thing they did was fight. If they hadn’t been so talented, so exceptional, they’d have been kicked out before a single day of training.
But they weren’t just talented - they were compatible.
*
Gerard didn’t take notice of Leo’s existence for months, not until he glanced up at the latest ranking of test results and saw somebody new at the top.
“Messi? Who’s Messi?”
“The new kid. You know, the little one,” Cesc mumbled through a mouth full of sausage. “Always sits by himself. Name’s Leo.”
“Swallow first, Jesus!”
“Shut up, do you want to know or not?”
When he finished wrestling Cesc into submission, Gerard glanced back at Messi. The kid looked kind of sad, all alone in his little corner. So Gerard started asking around.
Something was different about Leo. He hadn’t tested in at the same time as everyone else in their year. One day, he just appeared in the dorms, followed by all sorts of weird whispers. Something about his brain made him an exceptional jaegar pilot. His simulator scores were off the charts.
At this rate, though, he wasn’t going to make a jaegar pilot. No friends equals no co-pilot, see?
Gerard couldn’t help but think what a bloody tragedy it would be if Leo Messi never made it.
