THERE’S A HUMMING IN THE RESTLESS SUMMER AIR
[CORUSCANT CITY - KAIJU YEAR 15]
Ezra is glad to rest his muscles after his shift building the Anti-Kaiju Wall was over. The heat got to him today, slow-cooking his brain and browning his copper skin. Sweat percolates around his white undershirt, scuffed jeans, and work boots. He tucks a stray hair behind his ear from where it fell out of his bun earlier.
He drops down from the ladder and shakes out the dirt from his clothes. He leans down to pick up his thermos. He unscrews the cap and swigs the rest of his water.
His boss, Maul, nods from afar. Ezra clears his throat and takes his cue to leave, holding the empty thermos.
Ezra ducks under an awning as he strides across the unsafe industrial area. He squeezes in the alleyway between two skyscrapers, the sunset bleeding orange across fading blue.
A passerby slides past him, eyes blown wide at the presence of Ezra’s scars. Ezra is used to it, so he pays the man no mind.
There’s plenty that Ezra doesn’t remember from that day on Hoth Island. Getting dual cheekbone scars displayed prominently on his face was one of the many things Ezra would rather not think about.
A lot has changed in five years. The Jaeger program was on its last leg, most of the metal monsters having been destroyed completely or desperately needing repair, all because Padmé Amidala had to die in the Alderaan City massacre.
The Jaeger program’s saving grace, snuffed out by a venomous Kaiju. An entire city leveled by a category five behemoth.
That’s when mysterious new Jaeger pilots cropped up.
Ezra was quick to assume that the only pilots he knows that are still in the program are the Prowling Ghost crew: Hera, Sabine, and Zeb.
He counted two more Jaegers in operation, one of which being the rebranded veteran Aggressive Negotiations.
The final Jaeger was shiny and new. The holo outlets called it Dazzling Fury.
Ezra has no idea who pilots these Jaegers, but they prove to be impressive counterparts. They were deployed after the Alderaan City massacre while the Anti-Kaiju Wall was being drafted. Since defense was imperative in the interim of the wall’s construction, the three remaining Jaegers have done well at beating back the Kaiju.
Ezra reaches the apartment sector for builders. He pads over to his unit and uses his employee card to unlock the door.
After a slide-and-click, Ezra is inside his three-room household. He flicks on the kitchen light, setting the thermos and key card on the counter.
As he washes his hands thoroughly, a purr resounds from the refrigerator. A bengal-striped tail swishes into his sights. Ezra snorts.
“Katja,” Ezra sounds out, shutting off the sink and toweling off his hands, “what did I say about sleeping on top of the fridge?”
A half-meow precedes the Loth-cat’s landing beside the sink. Katja stares up at Ezra with saucer eyes and twitching ears.
Ezra rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky I found you, huh?”
Katja emits a “mrow.” She plops on the counter expectantly, tail nudging the handle of the refrigerator.
Ezra sighs, understanding the prompt. “Alright.”
He opens the fridge, plucking out a tin of Katja’s food. Katja hops over to the adjacent counter to watch Ezra open the tin. She does not interrupt as Ezra plates the meal and sets it in front of her.
While Katja eats on the counter, Ezra heats up a packaged meal. It does not look appetizing, but Ezra isn’t in the mood for cooking anything of substance.
After eating and showering, Ezra sits with Katja on the couch. He turns on the holo screen, cuddling up in his pajamas.
The reporter’s voice assaults him: “Breaking news: a category four Kaiju has been spotted approaching Lothal City!”
Ezra bristles, Katja emitting a disgusted “mrow” as a result.
Ezra leans forward, eyes glued to the screen.
“This is the first time a Kaiju has attacked the same city twice,” a panicked reporter explains. The image of reptilian scales parting the sea is shown as the voice continues, “Lothal City has been ordered to brace for impact and hide in basement levels of the nearest building. The streets are clearing out for a shelter-in-place.”
Ezra sinks into the couch in disbelief. Helicopters show an aerial view of the city, still torn asunder from the last Kaiju attack fifteen years ago. Ezra glimpses the half-rebuilt skyscraper that crushed his parents’ bodies amongst the chaos.
His kin scatter in the filthy streets, and he wishes he could be there to guide them.
“Aggressive Negotiations is deployed and will intercept the Kaiju,” a female reporter says, calmer than the man. “These two pilots have been collecting accomplishments for the past three years. Cities can now rest easy because of-”
Ezra drowns out the reporter listing statistics. He never understood Jaeger gamblers, but he can imagine them shouting out sickening bets as to who will win the fight, what will be damaged, what will be left when the dust clears.
Katja nudges Ezra’s hand, her striped head tucking between the cushion and his uncurled fingers. Ezra slackens his grip and breathes, brushing Katja’s fur as she gets comfortable.
Ezra regards the holo screen. Aggressive Negotiations treads the ocean, arriving at the Lothal City Anti-Kaiju Wall. The Jaeger remains a reinforced monstrosity, compacted with layers of metal shields thickening the body that could both catch a jet mid-stream and crush a Kaiju’s skull in seconds.
The faceless spectre, impersonal save for a single slit down the middle for the pilot viewport, arms its fists with an electric shock. The gloves snake with sparks around the fingers, dancing around the conductive titanium.
The Jaeger program made sure that no one else would die from electrical shock. It comes too little too late for Ezra.
The reptilian Kaiju rises from the ocean. It is covered in scales, each one a knife popping a balloon.
Aggressive Negotiations fires an electric blast. The Kaiju shakes it off and roars. It charges faster.
“Damn,” Ezra says dumbly.
“Mrow,” Katja agrees. She paws at Ezra’s hand absently. Ezra strokes her ear.
The Jaeger powers up its flamethrower, the sizzling of the embers apparent through news microphones. Ezra grits his teeth; fire and water don’t mix. Neither does electricity. This has potential to go horribly wrong.
Aggressive Negotiations coats the Kaiju in flames. Its reptilian scales simmer and burn, unused to the maximized heat exposure.
But it moves. It reaches the Anti-Kaiju Wall.
And with its last steps, it takes the wall down.
Dust billows across the eastern section of Lothal City, a smoking crater destroying the Anti-Kaiju Wall and the buildings closest to it.
The Kaiju’s corpse ruins Lothal City for miles. Reporters estimate the death toll to be at least one hundred.
Ezra exhales deeply through his nose. Aggressive Negotiations is praised and congratulated, reporters saying “oh, that could have been much worse!”
Scoffing, Ezra switches the channel. This news outlet is preparing for a press conference.
When Mon Mothma approaches the podium, Ezra is compelled to listen, if only for a moment whilst his rage boiled.
Mon struggles to keep it together. Ezra can count the cracks between her wrinkles.
The woman says, “the Anti-Kaiju Wall has been broken tonight. Lives were lost. It is disheartening to see, but there is an alternative plan to be proposed.”
Mon leans closer to the microphone as cameras zoom in on her.
She announces, “nuclear weapons are developed and will be dropped on the Breach. Our Jaegers will carry them.”
Ezra raises an eyebrow. Interesting.
As questions fly at Mon, Ezra shuts off the holo screen. He rises from the couch, Katja trailing after him in concern.
Ezra lays in bed and hardly sleeps a wink.
~
Thermos full of water in hand, Ezra returns to the construction site for Coruscant City’s Anti-Kaiju Wall. When he notes that builders are still working, Ezra hums. He expected nothing less.
As he breaks away from the awning, the sunrise casting a glow on his skin, he hears Maul’s voice.
“Bridger,” the tattooed man growls, “you have a visitor.”
Ezra tilts his head to the right, where his usual supplies are stocked by his section of the wall. Maul stands with an unpleasant expression beside a stoic older woman in white.
Ezra arches a brow as he approaches, Maul grumbling away as Mon’s figure becomes luminescent.
“Well,” Ezra clips, “I’ll be damned.”
Mon doesn’t regard his condescending breezy tone. “It’s good to see you, Bridger.”
“So,” Ezra puts his hands on his hips, “the attack last night made you think of me, huh?”
Mon’s gaze is careful and calculated. “We’ve always kept an eye on you.”
“Have you?” Ezra harrumphs. “Just cut to it. You’re making everybody uneasy.”
Mon looks around. As Ezra predicted, the builders gawk whilst working.
Mon returns her beady eyes to Ezra, hands clasped over her waistline to emphasize her importance.
“We want you back,” she says.
Ezra is unimpressed. “Of course you do,” he sighs, “but why now? Won’t your nukes do the job?”
“We need a Jaeger pilot,” Mon reveals.
“Two pilots,” Ezra corrects, “you’ve forgotten that a Jaeger needs two pilots.”
“Yes,” Mon says, “there are plenty of prospective Jaeger pilots eager to make an impression.”
Ezra narrows his eyes. “Sounds like a bloodbath I don’t want to endorse.”
“You don’t miss it?” Mon crosses her arms. “Not even a little bit?”
Ezra shakes his head. “My life doesn’t revolve around the thrill of the chase. Not anymore.”
There is a pointed silence. Mon ducks her head. Ezra does not look away from her.
When Mon addresses him again, a tad sheepishly, she says, “he was right. I shouldn’t have let you pilot a Jaeger so young.”
Ezra purses his lips. He believes the contrary. Despite everything, he was glad he learned a hard lesson in control at only sixteen years old. It ensured he never made such foolish mistakes again.
“You don’t have to come back,” Mon says tactfully. “You don’t have to choose a partner. You don’t have to get inside a Jaeger again.”
Ezra is familiar with Mon’s political persuasion techniques. She had gotten the world to manufacture nuclear bombs, after all.
“I’m asking,” Mon emphasizes, “for your consultation.”
“That would require coming back,” Ezra points out, “and you just said-”
“Bridger,” Mon sighs in exasperation, “I understand how you feel. I do. Kanan was my friend.”
“And he was practically my father,” Ezra gets choked up, but he swallows thickly to prevent rising tears, “so you don’t hold a monopoly over him.”
Mon nods. “It hurts. I know it does. It could have been prevented easily. I hate myself every day for that.”
Ezra senses the anger edged in her tone and connects with it. No matter how much time passes, he’ll always think of something Kanan would say or do in a certain situation. When Ezra started adopting Loth-cats, he could hear Kanan’s drolled complaint about picking up strays wherever he went.
“But if Hera can stay and believe in the cause,” Mon murmurs, “you can certainly return and offer insight to the Skywalker twins.”
Ezra blinks. His brain short circuits, and it takes a moment for his mind to catch up with the words.
Ezra must admit: he is starstruck. Anakin Skywalker was the poster boy for the Jaeger program before his untimely death in combat alongside Obi-Wan Kenobi. He never got to meet either of them, but they were idolized by kids and older adults alike.
His mind folds in on itself and careens to a crash. When Padmé Amidala died during the Alderaan City massacre, their twins were orphaned as teenagers. They must have returned to the Jaeger program with nowhere else to go.
As he opens his mouth, Mon says, “you may know one of them as the flamethrower of Aggressive Negotiations.”
Ezra’s mouth dries. “And the other?”
“If you come with me,” Mon says airily, “I’ll tell you all about them.”
Ezra huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes at the climbing sunrise. “I don’t know, Mon. I’m pretty fucked up.”
“Then use it,” Mon says nonchalantly.
Ezra is smacked with the realization that he would have to see the Prowling Ghost trio again. If he went back, he had to face everything he ran away from five years ago.
He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. He freezes up at the prospect of looking into Hera’s round green eyes. His tongue would tie and twist until he couldn’t even make a sound, clamming up like an idiot.
But he couldn’t run forever. He was already so tired.
Ezra’s entire body collapses with the force of his acquiescence. “Only if I get to bring my Loth-cat.”
Mon smiles. “Of course.”