It's cool to see the level of trust your Agents - sorry, Rangers - have with each other, and the confidence that it gives them.
You also inspired me to write a piece. Sadly, my Rangers have compentence trust issues...
Jaegers of the Plot Continuum: The Dysfunctional Duo
“Beginning drift test 37.” There was a certain weariness to the voice from Mission Control that suggested it had already been a long day, with no end in sight.
Skeet looked across at Amy, both of them strapped in to their piloting harnesses. According to their initial aptitude tests, they were drift compatible – and they could easily initiate the drift, it was just maintaining that level of trust and depth of connection that was proving insurmountable.
“Let’s try not to screw up this time, shall we?”
Amy’s only response was to glare at him.
Yeah, this is gonna go sooooo well, thought Skeet.
“Initiating drift synch test in 3... 2... 1... drifting.”
The two experienced a weird sense of dislocation, almost like being in freefall, and then they were each stumbling around the slightly familiar landscape of their partners’ mind.
::Neural handshake established. Jaeger ready for combat.:: The voice of the support A.I., known as the Ghost in the Machine, echoed throughout the control centre and the Conn-Pod.
In Mission Control, the Marquis leaned forward, a slight adjustment of his petals giving the impression that he was scrutinising the readouts. Well, they’re holding it together. For now.
If the two of them could just make it through the tests successfully, then Logistics and Personnel would have another unit that could be assigned to active duty.
“Beginning movement test. Bring your unit forward slowly please, pilots.”
Skeet felt the neurons fire in Amy’s mind as she complied with the instruction, and he responded in kind.
Those in Mission Control watched as the Jaeger, named Pax Fictionala, began to move. Unfortunately it stumbled as it tried to step off with its left leg and right leg simultaneously.
Automatic restraints activated, preventing the Jaeger from falling, and returned it to the rest position. The drift bond dissolved.
“What the hell was that?” Amy asked, “The instructors said to lead with the left leg!”
“Well, I always lead with my right.”
The airlock to the Conn-Pod opened, and a group of DoSAT technicians filtered in, silently helping the prospective Rangers out of their harnesses while they continued to bicker. Hot on their heels was a swarm of cat-like creatures, who congregated around Amy while managing to remain just shy of tripping up any of the technicians.
“And what do the instructors know anyway?” Skeet continued, “They’re not Rangers. I bet they have the wrong sort of brain for piloting – that’s why they became instructors. I bet they’re all analytical and fluffy, over-thinky types. You need focus and determination to pilot a Jaeger.”
“Yeah, well, for reference: your brain? So not like that.”
“At least mine’s not all pink and fluffy!”
“Not fluffy? Have you seen how easily you get distracted?”
“It’s not my fault; mechs are awesome – the fact that I'm actually piloting one, it’s just makes me fanboy a little, that’s all. I can control it.” Skeet said, sounding defensive.
“Wait, so you’re saying that the fact that you’re piloting a Jaeger is a distraction from piloting the Jaeger. Do you even listen to yourself!?”
“Ummm... if I'm honest, not so much.”
Amy threw up her hands in exasperation and stalked off, her menagerie of minis picking up on her mood and thrashing their tails in agitation.
Something hit Skeet in his shin, and he looked down to see another mini-Mogget, this one with sleek black fur, headbutting him again in greeting.
“Hey Garth, how you doing?” Skeet crouched down and began fussing over the mini, first stroking the top of his head and chin, then playing a game with him. The mini rolled over onto his back, inviting Skeet to scratch his belly, but every time Skeet’s hand got too close, Garth nixes would swipe at it. Skeet could avoid the ‘attacks’ for the most part, and their movements settled into a comfortable rhythm. Whenever he was too slow, Garth would retract his claws before the contact.
“Huh, I’ve probably got a better synchronisation rate with you than I do with Amy...”
The human and the mini looked into each other’s eyes, then turned to look down the corridor where the Pax Fictionala waited, then back at each other.
“This is a spectacularly stupid idea, isn’t it?” said Skeet.
“Meow?”