dejah_thoris | [oom] A visit to the Milliways Garage with Adrian Shephard

"That's them," says Shephard. "I know a fella here who used to pilot one."

He smiles a little at the response. "Hansen says this one's called Tacit Ronin," he says. "It was the first in the field, from what I hear. Somethin' like that, anyways."

"I knew they were--big. I mean, he told me the dimensions of the things." Her voice is tinged with awe, and the skimmer drifts as she lets her gaze travel up and up and up.

"But knowing and seeing are two entirely different things."

"No kiddin'," Shephard agrees. "There ain't but one flyin' machine I ever had to pilot that I liked flyin' in, and I thought it was pretty fuckin' big- until I saw it up against this."

She turns in her seat, and gives him an incredulous look.

"These machines... fly?"

"Naw, naw, Jaegers don't," Shephard says. "But the lion I flew's the only thing I seen that's near as big and still moves."

She nods, and turns back to contemplate the monstrosity she sees before her. "The resources alone needed to build such a machine, much less pilot it... It must take a small city to keep it maintained. Do you mind if we get a better look?"

"Go right ahead," Shephard says. "Only seen it up close once myself. Things're supposed to be as expensive as aircraft carriers, and those were small cities themselves."

She nods, and leans forward, bringing the skimmer back on course. Woola had just returned to their location from wherever he'd been exploring, and was glad to get moving again.

"Aircraft carriers, those are the waterborne ships, yes?"

She waited until they were within yards of the Jaeger before she began increasing the altitude. It gave the impression of being on a lift. The engine hum was almost silent, even against the hard surfaces of the garage.

"Yep," says Shephard. "I dunno how you arrange things on Barsoom, but in my day there weren't no other kind. Think we used to have some lighter-than-air ships you could land real small planes on once, but we ain't had those in ages."

"No oceans on Barsoom," she explained, her gaze still fixed on the Jaeger's outer hull. The scaffolding around it rattled and Woola appeared in a blur, chuffing happily. They ascended another ten yards, and Woola appeared again. She grinned at the beast.

"Our carrier ships are like this craft, but much larger. They hold dozens of skimmers this size, as well as squadrons of warriors ready to engage in hand to hand combat."

Shephard whistles. "Turbulence on something like that's got to be a pain in the ass," he says. "I got to hand it to you if your people're up for walkin' around on a deck like that."

"Inertial dampeners help. As does having a significantly thinner atmosphere. They also don't rely on lift the way your fixed winged craft do."

"Okay, fair," says Shephard. "And here I was thinkin' magnetic boots."

She chuckled, and shook her head. "No, that could get a bit dodgy when contact is lost."

The skimmer took a quarter turn and drifted out from under the overhang of the Jaeger's midriff, bringing them in close so she could view the power unit at the center of its chest.

"I can't wait to see the plans for these. I bet they're interesting reading."

"Reactor's still pretty well shielded. Ain't much more'n background levels of radiation comin' off it, least not when I came through here the first time," Shephard says. "Looks like Hansen's been tryin' to look after it some. Thing's practically a holy relic to him."

And he can't say he blames the man one bit, given what his world and his country and his city went through.

"I spoke briefly with Mister Pentecost the first day I was here. I gathered their situation was pretty grim."

She turns her head again, slightly.

"Do you know if they're still besieged by the creatures?"

Shephard's quiet for a few moments.

"Hansen is dead," he finally says. "He came in from his final mission. He'n Pentecost were tryin' to seal up the Breach once'n for all. Only the Pentecost who's here ain't from that mission, he's from seven days before it. Either way, Hansen doesn't know if they pulled it off or not."

Dejah's lips press thin, and she nods, turning back to the machine.

"This place. I do not understand it, and I'm not sure I ever will." She deliberately turns her thoughts away from the memory of her dead husband.

"I wish there was something we could do to help."

"Sometimes you can," Shephard says. "We brought folks from a shitload of different worlds into mine for a number of battles against the Combine, including the one where I lost my arm. I dunno if there's shit we c'n do for Pentecost, though. Not from the way Hansen was talkin'."

Dejah's jaw sets.

"One of the most infuriating things about knowing such things. I despise the idea of leaving such things to chance. Or fate, or what have you."

She urges the skimmer higher until they're looking into the cockpit face of the machine.

"I hate being helpless in the face of oncoming tragedy."

"Ain't gonna find me arguin'," says Shephard. "If Hansen could git his door open I'd be offerin' my ship's assistance, but..."

Seriously, if the Jaeger people can't figure out how to use a teleporting vessel to their own advantage then he doesn't know how to help them.

"He showed me the inside of the control pod. I ain't really comfortable with openin' the thing up without him around, though."

"Indeed. And if I got inside, I suspect you'd have to bring me dinner and possibly breakfast before I emerged."

Woola chuffed down at them from the scaffolding above.

"I suppose I should take us back down again. How are you doing, Mister Shephard?"

"Long as I don't look at the wings I'm all right," says Shephard. "I ain't got a problem with heights, it's just flyin' I got issues with. It'd be the same if we were on a dragon, tell you the truth."

And he should know. Kreyu, and all.

She smiles and keeps the descent just as gentle as the ascent.

"A dragon? That sounds like it would make even my stomach churn. As strange as the skimmer seems, at least it won't turn around and eat you."

"Aw, Kreyu's all right once you git to know her," Shephard says with a crooked grin. "She's the smart-as-hell kind of dragon, not the eat-everything-that-moves kind. And I ain't just sayin' that 'cause she helped me git my new hand, neither. She's been like that ever since I met her."

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