The Fall
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Chapter 25: The Fall
Soarin rose sluggishly, a nightmare of screeching metal, fangs and talons being chased from his mind like a half-forgotten memory. He chewed absently, ignoring the almost subconscious lines of pain which ran down the side of his body. He knew by now that they matched the scars that Wild Mustang’s hulk bore, but it didn’t make it an any more pleasant feeling. He looked at the small clock sitting beside his bed and sighed quietly, very early. He shrugged off the thoughts of going back to sleep and slipped out of bed, stretching his aching body as he did so.
It wasn’t just the nightmares. As of late he’d been feeling bilious and uncomfortable, suffering from shakes, aches and pains, particularly after waking up. It reminded him of a addict suffering from withdrawals. The shatterdome’s physician hadn’t found anything wrong with him, but Soarin trusted her about as much as he trusted each of his aunts to not give him a horrendous sweater for Hearth’s Warming.
Instinctively, Soarin knew something was wrong, even if he couldn’t place his hoof on exactly what it was. He yawned loudly, feeling very hungry. That was one thing at least he could fix easily.
He set off towards the mess with purpose, the aches and pains subsiding as the grumble of his stomach grew. Food truly could fix anything. It briefly occurred to Soarin that the watch would soon be changing, accounting for the surprising number of ponies up and about despite the early hour. Despite the lack of lack of clear and present danger many seemed overly skittish or bore barely concealed looks of worry. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
Even over a month later, Harpy’s incursion into the heartland of Equestria had quite handily dispelled the notion that the interior was safe. Up to now, it was assumed an attack so far inland would be all but impossible. Refugees, displaced ponies and others just seeking a safer place from the Kaiju had flooded the interior of Equestria, swamping the populations of the numerous small towns and villages which made up a large part of central Equestria. Being one of the few large cities in the interior, Canterlot had been similarly crowded and it was all the authorities could do to try and settle them as best they could. Now though, another mass wave of migration was happening to the west coast of Equestria. He’d learned from his family that the housing market was booming in places like Las Pegasus, Seaddle and Vanhoover.
While the east coast remained well populated by those too poor, stubborn or had enough faith in the Jaegers to leave, even in the short time he’d spent in Trottingham, he’d noticed less and less ponies around. Soarin reflected on this glumly, finding a suitably large meal to sate his hunger on. How many would be left in six months? A year?
The effect of the attack hadn’t just hit the morale of the civilian populace, the Jaeger Corp was also reeling. There was a definite air of tension and unease hanging around the shatterdome, everypony was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. The Rangers under his command were less confident and chatty, even Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust hadn’t been bragging as much when they practiced drills, though they certainly maintained an apparently unshakable ‘Can do!’ attitude which Soarin found comforting. His biggest concern was Wave Chill though, his co-pilot starting to become reclusive and uninterested in the goings on around the shatterdome. Not only had he neglected the few command roles and administrative tasks Soarin left him, their last few simulated sessions had been dismal, Soarin had apparently died on two out of the last six simulated drops, not a particularly encouraging statistic. That thought was enough to remove what was left of his appetite and after leaving the mess Soarin made a start on the veritable mountains of mundane paperwork that seemed to pile up at an unsettling rate. It would be a few hours yet before it would be reasonable enough, in his mind at least, to wake his co-pilot and start the day proper.
‘Time to knock some sense into him.’ Soarin thought after putting a rather insignificant dent in the work, plodding along the hallway towards Wave Chill’s quarters. He hadn’t made an appearance as of yet and it was getting well into the morning. Although they had no rostered duties until the early afternoon, it was high time for him to be up and about. Besides, there were some new toys to play with which Soarin had seen arrive some hour beforehand.
He entered Wave Chill’s quarters with little issue - even if the stallion had bothered to set a door lock, Soarin would’ve known it anyway. A solid wall of musk slammed into Soarin’s nose like a brick, making him recoil slightly.
“Urgh.” Soarin groaned, wishing there were a window.
“You’ve changed, I don’t remember you being so stallion-like last time.” Wave Chill rumbled dryly from his bed.
Soarin snorted. “Not your usual squeeze, sorry. How about you get up?” He suggested nicely.
“I don’t need to be up for another… two hours.” Wave Chill guessed with a yawn, burying himself deeper into his cocoon.
“Come on, get up.” Soarin said to his co-pilot, punctuating the order with a prod.
Wave Chill grumbled loudly and rolled over, putting a pillow over his head like a foal trying to skip school might.
“When my little brother doesn’t get up, the next step involves me jumping on him. Do you really want that, Wave Chill?”
The other pegasus rolled up with almost indecent haste. “I’m awake, I’m awake.” He affirmed, staring at a point somewhere behind Soarin’s head blearily.
Soarin wrinkled up his snout. “You smell.”
“Haha, yes, thank you, good morning to you too dunderhead. I’m sure you’re the sparkling visage of pony cleanliness.” Wave Chill rattled off, rubbing an eye irritably. “I hope for your sake you didn’t wake me up just to say I smell.”
“No, we’ve had some kit arrive. Thought you might want to see it.”
Wave Chill went stiff. “It’s not Thursday already, is it?”
“Nope, arrived early.” Soarin beamed. “Come on, clean yourself up a bit and come down to the bays. I mean, seriously, you reek.”
“Since when did you become my mum?” Wave Chill growled, throwing a pillow at Soarin as he rolled off his bed and started searching for a towel.
“Want a recaf?” Soarin asked, watching the pillow sail across the room far away from him.
“Yes please. Like I like my mares; hot, unbridled and very, very bitter.” Wave Chill groaned, butting his head up against the wall in his search for a towel.
“Shower first.” Soarin ordered, pointing him in the direction of the suite adjoining Wave Chill’s quarters.
Wave Chill make an annoyed whine, following Soarin’s instruction with all the grace of a spoiled twelve year old. While he waited for his co-pilot to make himself presentable, Soarin found himself a bagel and Wave Chill a thermos of liquid which could’ve been mistaken for raw, liquid bitterness. By the time he returned to Wave Chill’s quarters, the stallion was looking, and more importantly, smelling, considerably cleaner.
“Y’know those’ll make you fat if you keep eating them.” Wave Chill said in way of thanks as they plodded down towards the bays.
“Tfghhugg erhgff.” Soarin replied cheerfully through his bagel, chewing louder for Wave Chill’s benefit.
“Wonderful.” Wave Chill drawled, averting his eyes from the mess unfolding in Soarin’s mouth. They made their way down to the shatterdome’s small Jaeger bay in a timely fashion, neither bothering with small talk. When you shared your consciousnesses on a regular basis, there was surprisingly little to talk about.
As usual the Jaeger bay was a hive of activity. Even though none of Trottingham’s Jaegers had been actively involved in the last incursion against Harpy, they were both being bothered over all the same. Daring Dragoon was down on all fours, its head lifted clean off its body and its access panels all open. The highly strung Jaeger had sprung a reactor leak towards the tail end of its last deployment, a worryingly common occurrence for the maintenance-intensive Jaeger, and was being meticulously being stripped and searched head to toe by engineers armed with radiation counters and wrenches. By comparison, the ever reliable Frontier Justice was just receiving a new coat of paint along with fresh insignia and markings. Looking at the two pony-made demigods towering over him was enough to make Soarin's skin prickle uncomfortably.
Most of the attention was on the newcomer though.
It had arrived in the small hours of the morning, loaded down between two flights of rotaries and overseen by a small army of support staff. The new Jaeger was several weeks ahead of schedule, amazing considering the number of design changes, modifications and issues which had cropped up during manufacturing. Fresh off the assembly lines in Manehattan, the Jaeger and its component parts had been flown north for the final touches - namely the installation of the conpod and potentially weeks of calibrations, trouble shoots and other pilot tests. Soarin considered that a little odd, given that could easily be done in Manehattan. The more politically aware side of him wondered if the move had anything to do with the developing fiasco in the aftermath of the Canterlot attack.
Unlike their previous Jaeger, Wild Mustang, this machine was much slicker. Gone were the huge missile pods, replaced by internal weapon bays built into the roof of the Jaeger’s shoulders. Large vertical stabilisers hung from the Jaeger’s back, tucked in close like a pair of wings. The neck was considerably more reinforced and armoured, and the solid traction pads had been replaced with flexible cloven hooves, giving the machine better traction on any surface. The Jaeger’s conpod, hanging a few metres above the neck seal, had long swept back ‘ears’ and a massive centreline mounted searchlight built into the crown of its head. The vision port was tinted a stunning shade of royal red, contrasting sharply with the machine’s dark grey paintwork. Its build was much bulkier than either Daring Dragoon or its cousin, Everfree Bandit, giving it more of a masculine appearance. The Jaeger positively towered over the comparatively tiny Daring Dragoon, almost matching Frontier Justice in height.
Both Soarin and Wave Chill had seen the Jaeger multiple times during its construction, but even now, it sported several late-stage design changes neither hadn’t seen. Most prominently, a massive sloped fin jutted from the Jaeger’s thick chest directly in front of the conpod, a heavily banded and reinforced edge facing outwards. The Jaeger’s wrists and shoulder guards, while slimmer, looked considerably more reinforced than either remembered.
“Gee whiz, ain't she a beauty." Wave Chill remarked with a trace of awe. For the first time in weeks, he seemed to be excited about something.
Soarin nodded in agreement, his heart almost doing backflips at the thought of being in a Jaeger again. The thunder of iron hooves, the roar of the reactor and the mind-melding process which made pilot and machine one was exhilarating. Intoxicating. Addictive. Soarin wondered if that was the source of his ills.
Wave Chill cast an inquisitive eye over the huge fin set into the Jaeger's chest. “Interesting design choice I guess?”
“I’d say it’s meant to help block blows going for the head, well, from the front at least.” Soarin guessed, peering at the thick bands which ran around the slanted fin. “Depending how strongly they’ve reinforced it, you could probably also wallop something pretty hard with it. I think a couple of the human's Jaegers had them as well.”
“For headbutts when you don’t want to use your head.” Wave Chill muttered, his gaze dancing over the Jaeger eagerly. He fixated on something above them but Soarin paid him no heed, casting a scrutinising eye over the Jaeger.
Soarin nodded. “Something to work out. It’s not something we’ve had in the simulations.” He mused. True enough, the fin would make it awkward for anything trying to hit the conpod from the front, but it could also serve as a very large, very convenient handhold. That could be a problem, but it’s something they’d work out together. If nothing else it might be something else to get his less orthodox partner motivated.
“Hey Soarin. check out the gals. I don't recall a forecast for rain in the Jaeger bay.”” Wave Chill sniggered with amusement.. Soarin followed Wave Chill’s gaze upwards, immediately spotting Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust way up in the upper rafters of the Jaeger bay.
“Oh...” Soarin breathed, amazed to find the ceiling seeded with a couple of cunningly hidden rainclouds. At first hidden by the blazing downlights and support beams, Soarin could now spot a whole cluster tightly packed above Frontier Justice, threatening the Jaeger with a massive downpour. He looked back down at Wave Chill, unable to stop a whisper of a smile forming on his face. “Those two have an inexhaustible amount of enthusiasm.”
Wave Chill just grinned knowingly.
‘Of course.’ Soarin thought with a trace of irritation. He didn’t let it show, addressing Wave Chill again. “Well, I guess if we left now it can be somepony else’s problem.”
“Agreed.” Wave Chill grinned, eyeing the two mares fondly. “Anything else come in?"
“Yep, we have new drivesuits as well. Give them a look over and make they have the right size on the label. I've kept the receipt so we can take them back to the shop if they don't fit” Soarin joked.
“I don’t think that’ll be an issue for me. You, on the other hand…” He gestured vaguely at all of Soarin. “I don’t know how you still fit.”
“Lots of patience. At least I’m not cold.” Soarin remarked. “Come on, I’ve got them upstairs.”
They exited the Jaeger bay before the two Rangers floating above them could cause any real trouble, Wave Chill tossing the scene a furtive look as he followed his partner out. They made their way upwards, Soarin having had the new suits sent to one of the shatterdome’s practice areas.
The training room was conspicuously crowded, a gaggle of technicians pouring over two metal crates and a few battered looking mannequins. One had an old drivesuit on it for comparison. A mess of large paper sheets were spread over the floor, the ponies frequently checking it, arguing over something, checking again and then arguing again as they figured out the new suit.
“Pretty.” Wave Chill remarked, trotting over and peering at the half-assembled drivesuit. The suit was thinner and sleeker than their old ones. Each plate was a vibrant shade of midnight blue, freshly polished and stamped with a string of white serial numbers which neither of the Rangers had never bothered to understand the meaning of. The undersuit was still jet black, with a hundreds of gold strands of circuitry running up and down the length of it. The helmets, Soarin noted, were fully sealed, with their own supply of oxygen built-in.
Wave Chill fished out a helmet from a crate with his cutie mark crisply stamped on the back. “You thought of a name for it?” He asked, giving the helmet an approving nod.
Soarin looked blankly into another neatly packed crate, the lights gleaming off the armour within. “I was thinking of calling it Sceptre Six.” He said dumbly, noticing Wave Chill’s head incline in an incredulous manner. “I mean, it’s where we both started, and it’s the sixth Jaeger. Seemed fitting.” He justified quickly.
“Sceptre Six.” Wave Chill stated, looking at Soarin with dumbfoundment. “Really? Really. Couldn’t come up with anything better?” He asked with a note of exasperation.
“I didn’t see any suggestions from you. You’re barely contributing anything at all as of late.” Soarin countered tersely before lightening his tone a bit. “Besides, doesn’t it just bring back happy memories? Such a bright-eyed cadet you were back then. A better time…” He said wistfully.
“All I remember was being yelled at and cleaning.” Soarin’s co-pilot said with a pout, clearly remembering all the ‘fun’ hazing he had undergone aboard the Wonderbolt’s school ship under Soarin's tutelage. He looked down at his helmet, his face reflected perfectly in the freshly polished visor. “Guess things haven’t really changed that much.” He said after a short moment of silence.
Soarin picked out his own helmet, surprised at how much lighter it was. Wearing his old one for more than a few hours at a time hurt his neck, the newer model had definitely taken steps to alleviate that problem. “Suppose so, though the lack of yelling as of late is a nice change.”
“Command has its benefits I guess. Well, for you maybe.” Wave Chill shrugged "Are we done here?", putting his helmet back as his interest waned. Soarin was sure there were other things, or ponies more accurately, around the shatterdome he was eager to get to. He shook his head slightly, amazed at how quickly Wave Chill's thoughts had shifted. Soarin subconsciously found himself pursing his lips, tempted to chew out his friend’s lack of discipline and motivation.
“Don’t you even start.” Wave Chill said without even looking at Soarin.
“I wasn’t going to-.”
Wave Chill cut him off. “I don’t need to be plugged into a computer to know exactly what was going through your head, Soarin." He muttered irritably, giving Soarin an irritated look. "As much as you might try to be, you’re not my damn dad, okay?” Wave Chill added.
“Given your history, I would’ve thought you’d have an appreciation for more professional behaviour.” Soarin chided him gently.
“Not in the air force anymore old boy. Rules aren’t the same, before you throw the bloody book at me.” Wave Chill said back, giving Soarin a pointed look over his new helmet. There was a uncomfortable moment of silence, the two pegasi stewing in their own thoughts. Wave Chill's face was unreadable before he piped up. “She asked me, for the record.”
Soarin blinked, slightly surprised that Wave Chill had assumed that’s what he was being berated over. Soarin knew, he'd known for almost as long as Wave Chill had known it, and he couldn't care less. “And I suppose it’d be impolite to say no, wouldn’t it?” Soarin said smoothly, hoping his momentary lapse hadn’t been noticed.
“Damn straight bingo-bango.” Wave Chill replied. “Besides, it’s technically not fraternisation, as you’re the one in command, not me, and we’re technically in separate units.” He added with a smug look. Maybe he had bothered to read the book after all, if there was a book in the first place. “You going to get that?” He asked as a pager chime went off simultaneously in their ears.
“There’s a special place in Tartarus for lawyers.” Soarin shrugged, filing away a mental note to chase Wave Chill up later. Maybe when he was thinking with the smarter head. He chinned the pager, careful to mask any lingering irritation in his voice. “What’s up?”
The clipped tone of his LOCCENT manager sprang into his ear. “Soarin, you’re wanted by bossman in Manehattan. There’s a ship warming up outside for you now.” She dutifully informed him, cheerfully throwing any semblance of protocol out the window in her usual fashion. “Be ready in fifteen.” she added before clicking the channel off.
“Gee, wonder what that’s about.” Wave Chill pondered aloud, sarcasm practically oozing from his mouth as he spoke. No doubt it was more bad news.
Soarin ignored this, instead honing in on the typical short conversation he was getting used to with the new head of house. “Be ready in fifteen. Y’know, sometimes I really wonder who’s in charge, me or Skyray.”
“No denying it, she’s got you by the balls Soarin. It takes orders or it gets the hose again.” Wave Chill said in his best impression of the scarred mare. “You should probably get ready then I guess.” He said diplomatically after a moment of slightly painful silence. Soarin could tell he was just happy that he’d spared from further grilling, for the time being.
Soarin looked back at his new drivesuit dejectedly, slightly disappointed he wouldn’t get to try it on just yet. “Yeah, I guess. Hopefully I’ll be back in one piece. Must be pretty bad in there right now”
“You didn’t hear it from me, but I heard from a friend that humans eat horse meat when they’re cranky.” Wave Chill winked, stowing his helmet back in the box. “Have fun out there mate.” He added before trotting out with an obnoxiously cheerful whistle before Soarin could decide whether or not to throttle him.
He resolved that if either Shane or Michael were hungry, he would make a good recommendation for Wave Chill. Soarin scowled, the thought of eating making him realise he had missed a real breakfast and quite possibly second breakfast, the bagel he’d eaten earlier doing little to sate his voracious appetite. He spent another few moments huffing and glaring at the room in general before collecting a few things and heading out. This ship had better have a well stocked galley, there wasn’t much more he hated than flying on an empty stomach.
***
“So we’re screwed.” Shane summed up succinctly.
“Royally.” Michael agreed, dropping the copy of the report he held on the conference room table. The rest of the shatterdome’s senior staff looked on in mute horror, blown away by the sheer ramifications of the document which lay in front of them.
“All of it?” Shane asked, as if asking again would change the situation.
Michael nodded somberly. “All of it.”
Shane leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest and scowling. “Well that’s ridiculous.”
Michael cradled his chin between his hands, his eyes avoiding the document on the table in front of him. The seal of the Equestrian Senate seemed to sneer at him from the front page. “We did wreck a city. A big city. An important city.” He pointed out, a growing pit of nausea growing in his gut.
“We also killed a Kaiju. If we hadn’t there wouldn’t be anything left at all.”
“I don’t think we can can it a win, in anyone’s terms.” Michael pointed out. “Collateral damage during the engagement was… extreme.” He decided, trying to not recall the numbers he had seen. By Earth standards it would’ve been considered a disaster, both for civil authorities and the PPDC. If it had been him and Shane, Stacker would probably already have had them out the door. Or worse.
Shane shut his mouth, tacitly conceding the point.
The room fell into an uneasy silence, each of the divisional heads digesting the ugly truth. Of every senior member of the Jaeger Corp, the only one missing was Twilight, who had reportedly locked herself in her office.
“So how long do we have?” Soarin finally asked, the stallion looking amazingly unfazed by the news.
“A year.” Michael answered as calmly as he could, resisting the urge to grab the report and start ripping it up. That wouldn’t help matters at all. “Then a review, then who knows what.”
“So, nothing.” Someone muttered hollowly.
Michael nodded. There were in the deep end now, and the sharks were starting to circle. “In addition to the cuts, all funding for our ongoing requisitions are being drawn back considerably. That means weapon development, new reactors, K-Science…. new Jaegers.” He said uneasily, chancing a look at the report in front of him. “Gone.”
“Good thing we had the last Mark II off the line early.” Someone from J-Tech remarked.
Michael nodded again, grateful for that one small mercy. Truth be told, it had been rushed off and stamped complete when word of change to the Jaeger program's financial situation had been flagged, but that wasn’t important now. “We should be able salvage one of the Mark IIIs as well. Although we have nowhere near enough funding to finish it as designed, we should be able to make up the difference through preemptive cuts to other divisions. We need that Jaeger now more than ever.”
“We don’t have pilots for it.” Shane put in sharply, sounding more and more bitter with every word. “And I doubt we’ll be able to train any more. The academy is being shut down and handed back to the army.”
“We’ll figure something out.” Michael reassured him before addressing the table at large again. “For the time being, business as usual. Tell your staff what’s happening. Next couple of weeks will be hard, not going to lie. Each of you are going to have to think carefully about projects you have going on in your departments and start thinking about what we can cut, and what we still need. I expect recommendations from each of you as soon as possible.”
There was another drawn out silence.
“Come on, we’re not sunk just yet. Let’s make the most of what we have.” Michael said in a vain attempt to inject some life into the meeting.
“We were dead before the ship even sank.” Someone put forward darkly as the meeting broke up, the various heads muttering quietly to each other as they filed out. Soon Shane and Michael were the only two left in the room, an ominous silence hanging between them.
“This is verifiably insane.” Shane put forward first. “Gut the one thing that’s kept the world running for the last few years. What will they replace us with, huh? A wall? This is just like what happened back home. You screw up once and this how they reward your time and effort.”
“Preaching to the converted, Shane.” Michael remarked. “But unless the senate has a sudden change of heart though, we’ve got to work with what we got. We can either resign ourselves to being decrepit, or work with what we have for as long as we can.”
“At the moment I’m wondering if they’re really worth saving.” Shane muttered crossly, casting a deep look at the wall.
“Well if not us, who will?” Michael put forward. “We’re their best chance right now, even if these assholes hate us.” He tapped on the report. “Giving up isn’t an option in my books.”
Shane glowered. “Suppose not.”
Michael smiled thinly. “Besides, we have a vested interest in the shit staying out of the fan.”
“Because we are the fan.” Shane finished knowingly.
“Exactly.” Michael nodded, giving him a firm clap on the shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an alicorn to see.”
“I don’t envy you in the slightest.” Shane replied as Michael strode out. He made a beeline for the elevators, riding down a couple of levels before disembarking into the shatterdome’s huge J-Tech labs. Although it was unlikely most of the staff knew exactly what was going on just yet, the mood around him was decidedly dour. There would no doubt be some idea about what was about to happen, the all senate hearings were all recorded for the public of course. He walked to Twilight’s office, knocking on the door and waited patiently.
“Damn it.” Michael muttered, not receiving a timely reply. He quickly keyed in his personal access code into the door, opening the locked door smoothly. The office was dark, only a single desk lamp providing illumination. Twilight was slumped over her desk, her face pressed against the cluttered wooden surface in an uncomfortable looking fashion.
“Nice decor you’ve got going on here.” Michael remarked, gesturing around the room. It was messy, even by Twilight’s standards, stacks of paper, quills and other odds and ends scattered around with little apparent organisation.
Twilight didn’t immediately respond, almost digging her head deeper into her desk.
“This is very bad.” She finally said in what Michael considered a gross understatement.
Michael placed his hands on his hips. “Yeah, just a bit.” He agreed in a straightforward manner, any levity being left at the door.
Twilight looked up, her face haggard and streaked with fatigue. A stray quill clung stubbornly to her mane, dangling wildly as she moved. She brushed it aside, flushing slightly at Michael’s hard look. “Sorry, I’ve just been…” She trailed off, words failing her. She made a passing semblance of cleaning up slightly. “Not the best outcome.”
"We tried." He replied.
"Months of inquests and inquiries... more like a witch hunt." Twilight fumed, her eyes narrowing. "It was all to make heads roll."
“It’s a bit of a kick to the teeth.” Michael agreed. “You alright?”
Twilight nodded slightly, the anger in her posture vanishing. “I’ll be fine. Just a bit crushing to have your work for the last few years relegated to the trash.” She sighed quietly, looking around the office dejectedly. “What are we going to do?”
“Keep calm and carry on.” Michael replied without a trace of irony.
“Easier said than done.” Twilight muttered. “What about Pinkie and Maud?”
Michael folded his arms across his chest defensively. Twilight’s tone was almost accusatory.
“If I were home, and it were me, I’d be in deep shit, to put it mildly.” He cut Twilight off before she could argue. “But, given our situation I’m not willing to throw two good pilots under the bus just yet. And I never did. I could've done the easy thing and sacrificed them, but I didn't. I'm sure that there will be more hard questions and even harder answers but at this point I’ll jump through whatever damn hoops I need to to keep them around. Pilots are a premium now.”
Twilight nodded tiredly, looking a little happier.
“But that’s not what I need you thinking about.” Michael riposted before he got sidetracked. “We’ve got one Jaeger we can possibly salvage, and it won’t happen without you.”
“And it’s rather central to our plans.” Twilight added. She finally plucked the quill from her mane and starting taking rapid fire notes. “We’ll need to cut back almost the entire J-Tech department and salvage as much as we can from the other Mk. 3 hull.”
“Franken-Jaeger.” Michael noted wryly.
A hint of a smile graced Twilight’s lips. She understood enough Earth pop-culture to get that reference at least.
“Do you see any huge issues with getting it deployed?”
“We’ll need to cut back its armament a bit I think. Keep it simple.” Twilight guessed, dropping her quill again. “More pressingly though, it doesn’t even have pilots. I’ve mentioned more than a few times that we need some very spec-.”
“Could you do it?” Michael cut her off. “You’re one of those fancy unicorn things. And you’ve been testing it”
“Alicorn.” Twilight corrected him automatically before she registered what he’d said. “What.” She added flatly.
“You could, couldn’t you?” Michael said, rephrasing the question into a statement. “You have a brother don’t you? He’s that shiny guy in Canterlot, isn’t he?”
Twilight stared at him agape, her jaw working up and down slightly. If the situation had been better, Michael would’ve found it amusing.
“I-I guess.” Twilight stammered eventually. “Surely you can’t be serious though?”
“Well, I’d personally rather keep you on the ground and keep the fleet running, and I really don’t see a whole bunch of other alico-.” Michael cut himself off mid sentence, a thought occurring to him. It suddenly seemed so obvious, right in front of his face this whole time. His eyes narrowed in thought. “I need to send a message.” He said quickly.
Despite her tiredness, Twilight latched onto his errant thought immediately. She jumped up, a look somewhere between outrage and disbelief on her face.
“No, you are not asking Princess Celestia and Luna to become Rangers!” She yelled far too late, Michael already out of her office. She stared and spluttered a moment longer before galloping out after Michael.
***
“You did what?” Shane asked, his voice betraying a small amount of incredulity. He sipped carefully on a mug of whatever the Equestrians passed as coffee and carefully readjusted himself in his chair.
Michael hand up a hand diplomatically. “I know, a bit radical. But I think it’s our best shot at getting some new pilots.”
Shane could barely suppress a grin. “This is a bad idea.” He remarked with a remarkable amount of cheer. Michael could already imagine him drilling the two Alicorns with unrestrained gusto.
“We’ve had worse.” Michael countered.
Shane snorted with amusement. “True, but this is like asking the president if he’d please like to step into the conpod. Bad idea, Mike.”
“If I remember the president correctly, I’m sure he would’ve jumped right in without a moment’s hesitation.” Michael mused absently. “Also, the president isn’t an immortal alien-space-wizard-equine who raises the sun and moon.” He paused for a moment. “Though who knows at this point.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure.” Shane muttered with a smirk. It only took a moment for his face to harden again. “You don’t believe really all that do you? I mean, raising the sun and all.”
“Not really.” Michael admitted. While they’d seen some truly weird and wonderful things while they’d been in Equestria, he still had issues believing the outrageous idea that Celestia raised and the sun and Luna the moon. He’d even been to one of the Summer Sun Celebrations, and while very impressive, he still didn’t quite wrap his head around it. True he'd seen it with his own eyes but the physics of the feat made no sense to him. “If she could move a freaking star, she could hurl a continent into low orbit before her morning coffee.”
Shane grunted in agreement. “Still doesn’t make your hair-brained thought a smart idea though, they're practically gods Mike. What if they, you know..." Shane sounded the slightest bit concerned, a true rarity for him, "Die?"
“No, but unless you just happen to have spare alicorn’s falling out of your pockets, you have a better one? We want a new Jaeger, we need new pilots. We don't exactly have much of a pool to chose from.” He said as if explaining the process to an executive board comprised of five-year olds.
“Suppose not.” Shane admitted quietly. He pondered quietly for a moment. “They might not agree to it, y’know.”
“I know, but we’re already up to our necks in it so it can’t hurt to try.” Michael said, tapping his fingers impatiently on his desk. It had been a day since he’d sent the message to Celestia and she was usually much more prompt in replying. He’d already suffered one yelling session from Twilight, the mare almost choking on her disbelief at the prospect. He’d managed to survive by prying her for an alternative pair of pilots. That had at least shut her up, although he was sure she’d left him partly deaf and singed.
Shane grimaced slightly and took another sip of not-coffee. The cup was halfway to his lips when a loud crack split the air and two tall, almost proper horse-sized ponies appeared out of nowhere next to Shane.
“Oh hello.” Michael remarked casually, completely at ease with the two princesses suddenly appearing out of thin air. After living on base with a couple of unicorns capable of teleporting, he was used to them popping in even at the most inopportune moments. This was tame, by comparison. Shane, on the other hand, now had a healthy coffee stain on his trousers.
Celestia nodded her head as way of greeting.
“And Luna as well. I thought you were still in the hospital.” Michael remarked, smiling softly at the midnight-blue princess. He tried, and failed, to suppress a smile at the tirade of almost-silent profanity spilling from Shane.
“Discharged this morning.” Celestia explained simply. “We’re both very fast menders, or so I’m told.”
“Live to a thousand and I suppose it’s all just scratches, right?” Michael joked.
“We’ve each seen our fair share of injuries. Ageless, yes. Immortal, not quite.” Luna admitted.
“Well for fighting a Kaiju in close quarters you came off pretty well, I can’t think of many people who could boast the same.” Michael remarked, ignoring the fierce scowl aimed across the table at him from Shane. He decided it was best to move past the small talk. “Did you consider my message?” He asked, jumping straight into the tank to wrestle the proverbial shark.
The two alicorns exchanged a glance.
“It was…” Celestia started.
“Interesting.” Luna finished in a tone Michael found pleasantly encouraging.
“Well, princess, you’ve fought two Kaiju now and come off little worse for wear. Gave Harpy a good go of it if the stories don't exaggerate. By all accounts you’re more experienced that some of my Rangers.”
Celestia shot her sister a slightly concerned look. “You have to understand that the political situation around your Corps at current is somewhat…” She fished around for a word for a moment. “Complicated.”
“Understandable.” Michael replied, thinking back to the nightmare-inducing decree he had stuffed in his desk somewhere. Complicated didn’t even start to cover it. Twilight hadn't been wrong about the commission set up in the wake of the Canterlot incursion. It had bayed for blood, sought something to blame and now what he had started considering his life's work was out in front of the firing squad.
“Doing something so bold such as joining your program would be seen as providing overwhelming support for what much of the aristocracy,” A note of distaste entered Celestia’s voice, “And evidently the majority of our elected officials, now see as a failed, financially unviable venture. They appear to have placed their faith in other projects, some which I must admit, have a measure of merit to them.”
“And you need to remain impartial.” Shane finally spoke, at least showing a measure of understanding of Equestrian politics for someone who apparently didn’t give a rat’s arse about it.
“Tis convention.” Luna remarked with abject irritation.
“Of course.” Michael said as if he wholeheartedly agreed. “Surely with the great upheavals in the last few days though, convention is a bit old hat. While the government’s position on whether it will continue to fund the Jaeger program is questionable at best, in my opinion, we most continue what we do here while we still can. Duty demands it. I'm sure that's something you hold close, your duty to your subjects. The matters we will face in the near future will not be won by majority votes and political intrigues, but with steel and grit. The monsters at your door can't be bargained or reasoned with, but only defeated head on. That means we need pilots, pilots with special skills, if we want to try and preserve Equestria’s best hope at ending the Kaiju threat.”
Celestia looked quietly impressed, clearly recalling the last time Michael had tried his hand at diplomacy he’d ended up in a jail. “You don’t need to convince us, Michael.”
“Oh good. Why are we talking then?” Michael asked with a faux smile.
Celestia cleared her throat subtly. “If I understand your letter correctly, you are trying to preserve an unfinished Jaeger in light of your upcoming...” She searched for a polite word. “Budgetary restrictions.”
“We are, though if you two aren’t on board it’ll be pretty much as useful as harsh language.” Shane explained darkly.
“Could we see it?” Luna asked, a hint of excitement in her voice. Unlike Celestia she had not been overly involved with the Jaeger program and had seen the machines on relatively few occasions.
“Sure. Just if you break it, you buy it.” Michael noted wryly. He led the group out of his office and directed them towards the manufactory spaces behind the Jaeger bays. As they walked he fell in step beside Celestia.
“We’re being replaced then.” He remarked. He’d been aware of other projects in the pipeline, but he hadn’t thought they were being seriously considered as an alternative. “Let me guess, heavy armour and artillery projects, up-gunned attack craft… a wall.”
Celestia's look remained neutral. “There are a number of other projects being investigated-.”
“They won’t work.” Michael cut her off, feeling a sickening case of deja vu. This was the same arguement which had been tried and failed with Earth's politicians. “We’ve explained this. The little things just don’t have the presence to pin down a Kaiju like a Jaeger does. We’ve seen it before. And now that some Kaiju can evidently fly, I don’t think a wall will stop them.”
“A wall is not on the table.” Celestia bristled slightly. “These arguments were all made in the committee hearings for your program, I'm well aware of them. Clearly though, it's not enough to counteract the actions that your Rangers did in eroding their confidence." Her look softened, and her critical tone dropped with well practiced ease. "Michael, it’s been many a year since a monster has inflicted such widespread damage on a populated centre. We've suffered invasions and attacks, to be sure, but nothing quite on this scale. This new scenario we're in is a distinctly unpleasant blemish on your Ranger’s otherwise exemplary service records, it's a shame that a number of key players aren't willing to overlook it.”
“Noted.” Michael said stiffly.
“For what it’s worth, I still support your endeavours wholeheartedly. Perhaps things will change for the better.” Celestia encouraged him.
Michael gave her a hard look, keying in an access code for the manufacturing spaces. “I’d like to believe that. But somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen.*
**
In stark contrast with much of the shatterdome, the manufactory was perpetually hot and noisy. The grinding, clangs and buzzing of machines filled the air and ground away in the background. Steam hissed, and as one entered, they could feel the temperature rise noticeably.
It was already considerably less busy than it had been though, the massive cutbacks slashing the procurement of several Jaegers and associated pieces of equipment. Much work had been put on hold, and now faced an uncertain future. There was now only one machine being actively worked on, the other hulk now being torn down for any useful parts that could be scavenged.
The Jaeger was still a skeletal frame in many places, but even now there were still stark differences to those which had preceded it. Most pronounced was the large fin which jutted from the Jaeger’s head like a horn. This, coupled with an ingenious amplifier and a very complicated crystal-lattice control matrix allowed a sufficiently powerful magic wielder to use the Jaeger as an extension of their abilities. In their simulated tests, Twilight (who, being an alicorn, was generally the only one powerful and skilled enough around the shatterdome to use the thing properly) had managed to do mundane things ranging from firing supercharged blasts of energy and widescale telekinesis, all the way up to very short teleport jumps. The extra equipment and new weapons necessitated a larger, heavier reactor which in turn made the new machine the heaviest of any Equestrian-built Jaeger so far. Unlike the preceding Mark I and IIs which had cribbed much of their systems from Midsummer Night, the new Jaeger was largely built with indigenous systems and technology. Although it was some time off being finished, the machine gave off an almost palpable sensation of power, the air seeming to tingle with purpose around it.
“Interesting.” Celestia looked up at the Jaeger's faceplate, her face completely unreadable. “I must ask, how will this machine so greatly change our prospects?”
“Because with it we can mount a credible assault on the breach, stopping the Kaiju at their source.” Shane piped up. “Nothing else could do it.”
Celestia nodded as if that made sense to her. “And how will it close this breach?”
Michael spread his hands cluelessly. “Magic.”
“Yes, magic.” Shane agreed.
“And how does that work?” Celestia asked with a trace of bemusement.
Michael and Shane looked exchanged a look of confusion. “...Magic.” Michael reiterated as if that answered everything.
Celestia and Luna chuckled lightly. “Oh, I see.” Celestia answered dryly.
“I’ve always been curious,” Luna asked, her eyes dancing across the Jaeger’s unfinished hull. “Why do they need a head? It seems like it would be an obvious vulnerability. Why not put the pilots in the chest?”
Michael sighed and drew out an invisible clipboard from behind him. “Do you wrestle bears?” He asked, pretending to write something.
Luna was taken aback by the seemingly random question. “...No?”
“Okay, do you drink unreasonable amounts of grain alcohol?” He continued blithely.
“Well there was that one night…” Celestia muttered just loud enough for Michael to hear over the grinding of a crane. Luna’s face reddened slightly.
“I don’t see th-.”
“Do you mind the almost inevitable death from radiation poisoning by virtue of having a nuclear reactor ten feet from your ass?” Michael asked, looking up from the fake notes he was writing blankly.
Luna blinked, her expression unamused.
Michael tucked the clipboard back behind him. “Congratulations Moonbutt, I can ascertain from your answers that you are not, in fact, Russian, and therefore not crazy enough to pilot a Jaeger whose conpod is within farting distance of its reactor. You are henceforth deemed of relatively sound mind and body... and apparently, mostly free of alcohol poisoning.” He said without the slightest trace of amusement.
“Do you always speak this way?” Luna asked after a moment of silence.
“With how things are going, I find that my judicious use of sarcasm and quick wit are the only things managing to keep me sane.” Michael remarked, “Otherwise, I’d probably be in a much worse spot right now.”
Celestia look slightly guilty. “It’s a very impressive project. It’s admirable that you continue to work with such enthusiasm, even with the obstacles set in front of you.” She said, bringing the conversation back to a point.
“It’s what we can do.” Michael answered dutifully. “We do need kinda your help though, and not to sound impatient, but it’s kind of important that we get an answer from you… sooner, rather than later, preferably.” A loud echoing boom resonated around them to underline the statement.
Celestia shot her sister a barely perceptible look. “I think I can safely speak for the two of us in saying that you have our support. When do we start?”
Stats
Page generated in 0.021 seconds
Total duration
1,011 users online
332,919 hits today, 1,996,409 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I suspect Pacific Rim 2 has proved inspirational?
I love this STORY!!!!!!
Another wonderful chapter. I wonder if Celestia and Luna will still call their Jaeger Royal Flush, and if Twilight will join the rangers too?
nice to see you lurking around here again, I hope there will be more of it again soon. I would love to see an illustration of that new Jeager of Soarin and his partner has now. I wonder what ever happened to that that thing that had left the ghost ship. I was wondering with the massive budget cut in the story was a plan of cutting a few story arcs out of the story to make the story short, I hope it's not the case. For the OOC part the only issue that I she was Windsheer seem to be lethargic compared to his bunghole attitude was a little jarring but he never had much as much development to his character compared to the others.
I was hopping that the Flim Flam brother would have become pilots would have been funny to see and would have gotten in easy being twins and such.
Looking forward to the next chapter.
Hooray, it's back! I like what I see in this new chapter, and will be eagerly awaiting more.
Hahahah! This is amusing, but I got to ask, what about Griffon Jaeger?
Where's the pic for Scepter Six? BTW, I have an idea for a name for the Mk III, Royal Renegade.
Someones aiming for Grand King Ghidorah gravitonic conflict?
Back from the dead! I'm so glad you didn't abandon this story, and I can't wait to see what you do with this fic going forward from here.
March 23rd get here soon enough!
Geez its been awhile for you there.
And I am glad to see that politicians are the exact same idiots as expected, praise something until it breaks something they want to be petty about and ignore all voices of reason.
8766053
If I am connecting the dots appropriately, the thing that left the ghost ship was the micro Kaiju that separated from... one of the big ones. Forget which. Last we heard, he's growing up and partying down in Griffish lands. Hence the griffons commissioning Jaeger stuff.
And I agree, there's no way that the Flim Flam brothers aren't drift compatible.
8767692
Could you imagine how much they would drive pore misty crazy with their antics by driving her up the wall?
That might make sense for the griffins actually.
As a preface, this comment makes me reflect on the fact I use parenthesis (Brackets) far too much.
8769420
Which I am. (Gasp!)
I blame everything on them.
8768668
I would probably hate myself for even writing it.
8767632
Maybe I'm just overly cynical when it comes to politicians, but I'm fairly sure they're the same no matter where you go or which alternate dimension you happen to find yourself in. Yay.
Cynicism aside, I actually have a bunch of notes to rationalise (Ha!) their point of view which I sort of want to publish as a transcript of a committee hearing. Important parts of this will make it into the story one way or another.
8765907
Pretty much all but confirmed (the first point, not the later) as I'm lazy and also really really like the name Royal Flush. Seriously, sometimes you just find a name that clicks and sticks like superglue does to the floor. Some Jaegers, like Frontier Justice, have had the same name as they did in the first draft of this story. By comparison, Sceptre Six went through about half a dozen bloody name changes before I settled on what I still think is an 'okay I guess' name. (Fits with a theme at least, if anyone bothers to remember the airships the Wonderbolts have/had)
Twilight could totally be a Ranger, and was slated to be in an earlier draft, but I did a 180 on that because lol, I don't think I could've pulled that off. Also, I think she'd explode. Maybe.
8766053
Ghost ship? Ghost ship!
Yeah, that'll be resolved. Uh. Soon.TM
Next chapter
As for budget cuts. Always intended, it was slated to happen at some point, though how aggressively depends on which draft of my notes I look at. This ended up just being much earlier in the story because, well, I'll be frank, I'm not sure I have the time, energy or motivation to write as much as I had originally envisioned. I've cut a considerable amount of characters, Jaegers (4! Yes, 4!) and other knicks and knacks, some of which I now have to tie up in a way which I'm sure won't (read:will) bite me in the arse.
On the plus side, I have a dozen less characters to introduce and since I think I've been pretty shaky a the whole 'maintaining a consistent, developed character' thing this is probably a good thing. Like, yeah, Wave Chill. What a guy... who I've never really actually dived into what makes him tick. Which is terrible because he might be important at some point. Yes, I know there's a distinction between supporting and main characters but... uh, again, I'd have to scratch my head and think a little before saying who exactly the main characters in this story are.
I'm happy to give a quick run down of the stuff that was axed at some point if you're interested because well, they (probably) won't see the light of day otherwise.
8766427
It'll be explained in whatever is published next (Chapter 26 or the transcript I mention above)
8766516
I don't have one I'm 100% happy with and I'm not an artist. Well I am... with words. Arguably. Maybe. Don't quote me on that.
Pragmatically, I also haven't talked with any of the people (in the description) involved with this for... a while, mainly because I don't think I can be consistent enough with this for them to justify (in my mind) spending their time on it. But hey, I could be wrong. I often am.
8765477
Surprisingly not. While conveniently timed I will admit, I'm (unfortunately, as I'm a mega-huge fan of the PR franchise) actually not looking forward to the new movie that much. The art style, aesthetics and the general plot really rub me the wrong way (Seriously, a prequel would be way better. From a storytelling perspective, the fact that it's a sequel completely invalidates the entirety of the first film and any sacrifices made by the characters in it. There's more than enough material to make a prequel with, and seeing the Jaegers in their Golden Age would be fucking epic). As with all things though, I'm totally willing for it to prove me wrong. Maybe it'll be great, in which case there will be much rejoicing.
8769420
I do know a little about warhammer but I just know a lot about random mythologies because I have been interested in them since I was little, for instance did you know there are 4 different versions of the legend of king Arthur? All from the same place
8769561
Not asking for spoilers, but I would like to know if you still plan for Twilight to get a bigger role, her time to shine, something like that?
8769561
I wonder how well their 'alternate' plans fail when the kaiju suddenly are unopposed?
8769671
Oh, amazingly, I'm sure. But Equestria has had the fortune of having a Jaeger present for each of its attacks (discounting Switchback and Harpy, one showed up... eventually) and in the grand scheme of things, most things are still 'Okay I guess'. They haven't had the pleasure of a Kaiju running rampant for a week or two because there was nothing around to actually keep it in one spot (Which Jaegers are uniquely suited at doing... Kaiju don't know what the term 'Suppressive fire' is for some reason). Ignorance is bliss I guess.
And preemptively before anyone calls potential bullshit, it is totally possible for conventional (I say conventional in the reference to 'Crunchies' specifically designed to tackle Kaiju, so really not 'conventional' in common parlance) forces to take a Kaiju down in a reasonable time. The issue is actually keeping it one spot long enough for them to be effective. Kaiju brake for no one and are (usually) quite fast.
Yikes.
8769664
Very likely. With draw-downs in department staff she's likely to start taking on more (!) work, possibly out of the usual Jaeger development/design field. I like imagining her poking parts of a Kaiju with a very, very long stick.
8769739
If I recall the movies intro it took them a week or two, and a nuclear bomb to stop the damn thing utilizing those traditional means.
Means that the Equestrians are lacking in large order
I suspect that once the jaegers are sidelined the people will VERY quickly be clamoring for them to return seeing just how much WORSE it can get
8769739
Hmm... The idea of Twilight doing the drift with a piece of Kaiju brain might be interesting.
8773389
Fortunately, I don't live in America. I live in the Pacific.
And I'm technically an outcast for being the only Brony in my community.
Anyway, I'm not really that popular and I don't care about the cliche stuff that goes on in school. The only thing popular about me is that I'm a mentally ill misanthropic psychopath that everyone keeps avoiding like the plague, but that didn't stop me from having my own fun.
And yes, I have a lot of friends that are always there for me, even though I didn't want any in the first place. It's like Fate giving me the middle finger when I refused to play her game. There were so many times I tried to get rid of them but they always stuck to me like glue, even my cleverly made disguises never work!
I also hate math with a passion. High school sucked but I can always pretend I had fun there.
Every new chapter is like Christmas! I feel like you may have hinted at the possibility of alicorn-piloted Jaegers before, but the way it comes on the heels of the last chapter makes this well-timed.