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“Something is not right.”
Those weren’t words Crimson Typhoon wanted to hear from anybody. It went without saying that there were a lot of things wrong with the world: Kaiju topped the list, along with an uncertain world economy, famine, political discord, environmental catastrophe and Striker Eureka’s ego. They were all topics that were simply a fact of life, and there were no immediate solutions to any of them. But when Cherno Alpha said something was not right, he paid attention. The Russian jaeger was steadfast and resolute, so capable of solving her problems by weathering them and…
Well, her problems usually went away right after they took one look at her.
“What is not right?” Crimson Typhoon asked, single optic narrowing in concern. There was no way for him to look her over discretely, even if she’d said before that she didn’t mind. It was broad daylight at least – he’d found her sitting here on the beach to watch the sunrise hours ago.
“Here,” Cherno Alpha lifted one hand, pointing towards her cylindrical head with one finger. Crimson instantly felt anxious – was it her reactor? Was she overheating? Was there a leak? Was it – “Listen.”
Cherno leaned forward, and Crimson stilled. He strained to listen, but heard nothing other than the mechanical hum of their own systems. He leaned in a little closer, putting one hand on her arm to stabilize himself. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t using the opportunity to get closer to her, though. In fact, he was starting to think this was some ploy on her part, even if it seemed way out of character, but he could go –
Wait.
“Yes?” Cherno recognized the way his optic lit up. “It is not right.”
“I think…” Crimson had two hands on her arm now, boosting himself up by stretching out his digitigrade legs. The aperture of his lens narrowed again, yellow light flashing into the seams of her armor. The noise was obvious this time, and well outside the range of his experience. “Oh. We’re going to need help.”
“I tell you she sits too much,” Sasha was saying, waving her hands up at Cherno Alpha. “I tell you, you do not listen, and this is what happens.”
Her hands came back down to indicate the bundle of twigs in Aleksis’ gloved hands. Somewhere inside, the unsure peeping of five baby birds could be heard.
“Tell all you want, Sasha, but Cherno will do what she will,” he replied gruffly. It had taken him three hours to find the nest, going off the directions of his own sense of hearing and Crimson Typhoon’s incessant interference. He could have done the job just fine with his own flashlight, but the Chinese jaeger insisted on sticking his light bulb face in anywhere he could manage. Aleksis was still seeing spots.
“This cannot go on,” Sasha’s hands were on her hips now. “What will be next? Rats?”
Well, that was a valid concern, he supposed, but still. Cherno didn’t move fast, or even a lot, and that was just her. Besides, Crimson Typhoon had enough energy between the two of them to make up for Cherno’s sluggishness. Aleksis frowned – he really didn’t like that Chinese jaeger hanging off his Cherno all the time, but it couldn’t be helped. The only reason he didn’t throw rocks when Crimson came around was because Cherno seemed to fancy him back.
Silence reigned, and he turned to find Sasha staring at him, red lips pressed flat and one brow arched. She didn’t even have to say anything for him to know he was getting scolded for being so hypocritical. He tried not to look back at the two Jaegers, where Crimson Typhoon was meticulously searching every inch of Cherno Alpha for more stowaways. Doubtful, but Crimson was a persistent little bastard.
“Perhaps Doctor Geiszler will know of an animal sanctuary,” Aleksis said, sidestepping that topic in favor of the nestling’s wellbeing. He started the walk up the beach towards the Shatterdome, and Sasha turned to follow him. They could discuss it on the way, and he had no doubt this conversation was far from over.
“Perhaps,” she replied, looping one arm in his. “Everything will be alright.”
Maybe not now, he thought, but someday. He could live with that.