To Fight Monsters, We Created Monsters (Pacific Rim)

Chapter 13: Simple and Clean

2025, January 2 – 19:58 – Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China

Following the impromptu tour, Greyson led Raleigh along the hallways and corridors until they reached his designated sleeping unit. Raleigh nudged the door open and strode into the barren room. He dropped his bag on the bed and started to unzip it, eager to be done with unpacking.

Greyson had followed him in, only taking a few steps over the threshold. She wanted to give him space, even if it did seem like they merely picked up where the relationship left off. The lieutenant watched his movements, patient. With his back to her, Raleigh finally spoke. "So, Sonny. What's the word?"

As a slight smirk pulled at her lips, Greyson huffed out a laugh. "Well, I do believe it's a shortened version of my name."

"No, seriously." Raleigh pulled some items from his duffel bag: a jacket and a stack of pictures all in a bundle. "You're restoring old Jaegers, cozying it up with Hansen, showing has-beens like me around." He finally turned to her, still fumbling with his belongings. "I know you; that can't all be it. What, you pilot now? Chief Officer?"

"I still help in the LOCCENT and do my work with J-Tech." Greyson shrugged noticeably, crossing her arms. "I'm, uh, actually under Herc — I guess he's considered the Marshal's second, despite retaining his Sergeant title."

"Isn't lieutenant above sergeant?"

"I don't know. Different department." She leaned against the doorframe, dismissing his question about military rank. "As for being a Ranger? I'm just not up for it."

He laughed, "Sure. But your simulator score was the highest in our class, back in the day." Raleigh's face changed into the expression he always made whenever he couldn't believe what someone was saying. "I know you're comfortable with the Drift, more so with Jaegers."

"It's been a while," she muttered. Greyson's eyes scanned the floor; avoiding the look she was given. "Things change. I wasn't Compatible with anyone else, but you already knew that."

"Are you not one of the candidates tomorrow?" Raleigh began to step closer to Greyson. Likely out of habit, but she figured old habits die hard.

She jutted her chin out, saying, "Nah. I'm apparently too cool to be on that list, y'know." After letting a short laugh roll through her, Greyson sobered. She sighed. "Familiarity aside, the Marshal—"

"—has his reasons," Raleigh finished for her. He looked down for a moment, sifting through the photographs in his hand. "But with you being the only other person we know that's Compatible with me, I can't imagine what they could be."

Raleigh was right, and she had wondered the same thing. Greyson had voiced her opinion to Marshal Pentecost before, that they were wasting valuable time with even looking for others. Hell, she saw that even Mako could have been a good fit. One day, she'd get her answer.

Greyson decided to change the subject, clearing her throat. "Miss Mori chose tomorrow's candidates precisely by your scores, runs, and... other mental tests she'd reviewed. She thoroughly studied your techniques and strategies." Lightly, she added, "And I've approved most of the reports."

"She doesn't like me much, does she?" Raleigh inquired.

"If it's any consolation, I think you proved her wrong." Greyson smiled again. "Before she met you, sure, you could say Mako didn't like you, though all she knew of you were skills, fights, and stats.

"She had seen you as unpredictable, a risk-taker." Greyson gave him a look, a comforting one, and made sure to add: "But I know you. You may be all of it, but so is everyone else in combat."