Mako put her hand to the window as the helicopter dropped and then crashed into the ground. The helicopter skidded across the asphalt and smashed cars as it careened down the street. Gipsy crashed to the ground from its missed leap, and the windows of the surrounding buildings exploded from the force.
Jake dropped down from a hatch on Gipsy Avenger’s head and ran full tilt toward Mako. His face was full of horror and fear. He ripped off his helmet as he sprinted to reach the smoking wreckage of the destroyed copter.
Obsidian Fury started to move toward a downed Gipsy Avenger, but then three other PPDC Jaegers flew into Sydney via Jumphawks. So instead, Obsidian Fury turned away and slunk back into the water. Its metal disappeared beneath the waves.
Jake stood in the Hall of Heroes. In front of him, a plaque read: IN HONOR OF THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES IN THE SERVICE OF THEIR WORLD.
Digital memorial screens lined the wall.
Raleigh Becket. Copilot of Gipsy Danger who, with Mako Mori, saved the world by crossing the Breach and entering the Anteverse.
Yancy Becket. Raleigh’s brother and original copilot of Gipsy Danger. After completing many successful missions in the Kaiju Wars, Yancy gave his life in a battle off the coast of Anchorage in an attempt to save a fishing vessel.
Chuck Hansen. Copilot of Striker Eureka during the Kaiju Wars. He died in the Battle of the Breach alongside Stacker Pentecost. They sacrificed themselves so that Raleigh and Mako could cross the Breach—a heroic sacrifice still honored and celebrated around the world.
The Wei Tang triplets. The pilots of Crimson Typhoon during the Kaiju Wars. They killed seven Kaiju, before losing their lives in battle.
Sasha and Aleksis Kaidanovsky. The husband and wife pilot Jaeger team that hailed from Russia. They killed six Kaiju before also losing their lives in battle.
Jake stood in front of a memorial—Stacker Pentecost. His father was in full uniform. His stern face looked down at Jake.
Slightly to the right was a brand new memorial for Mako. She was also in full uniform, and her face beamed with pride for the Jaeger pilot program. Spread around Mako’s memorial were fresh flowers and candles, placed there by mourners. Jake stepped up to her memorial.
“I’ll hit ’em back for you, Mako,” he said. Then he taped up a photograph of their family—Stacker with his arms around a young Mako and a young Jake.
Suddenly, a noise pulled his attention to a door labeled DRIFT TRAINING—CADET LEVEL 1. Muffled yelling came from inside. He entered the room.
“Neural connection failed,” said a computer voice.
Amara punched a holo screen, getting madder and madder. Then, she saw Jake. It was the first time she had seen him since the Sydney attack. She tried to find the right words but couldn’t.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” said Jake.
“So I’m not great with feelings, but I’m sorry about your sister. Half sister?” she said uncertainly.
“Her parents died in the Onibaba attack. My dad took her in. She was my sister My family.”
The weight of the loss crushed down on Jake. Amara was still unsure of what to do. She tried to shift his focus.
“Better not let Ranger Lambert see you out of uniform. He’ll take the stick out of his butt and beat you with it.”
Her approach worked. Jake laughed. “Think I’m safe. It’s wedged in there pretty tight.”
He approached the drift rig Amara was punching. He saw that one side was occupied by a human brain floating in a container of synthetic cerebral fluid. A plaque mounted below the brain read: THIS IS SARAH. SHE DONATED HER MIND SO THAT YOU COULD TRAIN. TELL ME HER FAVORITE CANDY BAR.
Jake smiled. “They’re still using Sarah, huh?”
“I can’t get her to drift with me,” said Amara. “The other cadets have been training forever. Hate feeling like the slow kid.”
“You gotta relax, or you’re just grinding gears,” said Jake.
Jake punched holo commands. Sarah retracted. She was replaced by a regular drift rig.
“Relax. Got it, coach,” said Amara.
“Don’t call me coach,” said Jake.
“Sensei?” joked Amara.
Jake took the drift helmet and slid it on. “Just shut up and clear your mind. Can’t connect if you’re running your mouth. You ready?”
Amara gave him the double thumbs up.
“Let’s see if we’re drift compatible . . .” said Jake.
Jake punched commands. Amara gasped as she got sucked into the drift space. Their minds were melding. Abstract memories rushed past.
Amara as a kid: laughing as she chased her brother through the backyard, her on a bicycle. Then her father teaching her how to rebuild a car engine in the garage.
The memories transitioned easily to Jake as a young boy in his father’s study. He put on his dad’s hat, which was way too big for him, and saluted. Young Jake in military school jogging in formation with a teenage Nate. Then, a younger Mako teaching Jake how to staff fight.
Then, they were sucked out of the drift. “Warning! Neural connection unstable,” said a computer voice.
Jake whipped his eyes to a holo drift connection meter. The strength of their connection dropped down to the red zone.
“Stay focused,” instructed Jake. Amara concentrated. The connection meter started to climb.
“That’s it. The stronger the connection, the better you fight,” said Jake.
Amara grinned. She was getting the hang of it. She picked up one of Jake’s memories. “You lived in a mansion?” she joked, referring to the time he spent in an abandoned one in Santa Monica.
WHAM! Amara winced as a memory slammed into her.
The Santa Monica Pier. People running and screaming. She was little and standing frozen in the middle of the chaos, clutching a Polaroid photograph.
Jake winced. Warning alarms wailed. “Don’t let a memory pull you in. Let them pass through you. Amara!”
Amara turned to Jake, but she didn’t see him. Instead she was looking at—
Her father on the pier. Holding a Polaroid camera. “Amara! Get
