Five years of waiting, wondering, and soul crushing loneliness. Doubt, pain, and bitterness had tried to consume her (they’d been constant companions during this time of her ‘life’), but she was resolute.
Eventually -- someday -- the prodigal son would return to her.
Raleigh had needed to heal, and Gipsy understood. She needed to do the same, though admittedly it would have been an immeasurably lighter burden to bear had he actually been around. The feeling of Yancy’s death through her own receptors and coping mechanisms had been one of the most horrible things that she’d ever undergone – she could understand Raleigh’s need for solace, for peace. Grief was something the jaegers could – and did – experience, though it was in different ways than humans. What taught the jaegers to truly feel and know and experience (and appreciate human life more fully than just what they were programmed to do) was the neural connection to their pilots. That’s part of how the jaeger AIs had slowly started to evolve, after all.
Experiencing Yancy’s fear and panic had been a double whammy she hadn’t anticipated – and as far as she knew, no one had ever experienced such a thing. Most pilots that went down went down together, and the jaeger with it. She knew of one other unit that had been through something similar, an old Mark I, but even old Tango couldn’t boast the price that Gipsy had paid.
It wasn’t just Raleigh and Yancy’s arrogance that had gotten him killed – it had been hers, too. She knew better than to turn her back on an unconfirmed kill. She should have made a suggestion, nudged her pilots during their celebration, anything.
Any little thing could have saved Yancy, but she’d done nothing.
Feeling Yancy’s pain through Raleigh and in turn, Raleigh’s own pain – physical and mental - had been nearly unbearable. It had been so great it had been nearly tangible, something that could be physically touched as opposed to simply felt.
The moment she and Raleigh had mutually realized they were ashore and safe – so to speak – he’d disconnected, and everything had gone black.
That had been the last she had seen or heard of Raleigh Becket, until the night that he had returned to her, seeking her forgiveness – forgiveness she gave immediately, because he is her pilot, and he is hers.
Now, amidst the hustle and bustle of the active jaeger crew, Gipsy is still and quiet though internally she is a bundle of anxious nerves, eager to receive her pilot but apprehensive about the new addition. He’s in the area, she can feel him, and when the connection initiates and her consciousness is sucked into the drift, she can also feel that smile on his face, so broad, so crooked - so familiar.
The handshake is strong and firm; Gipsy Danger is welcoming her pilot home with open arms.
Her voice – not the lilting, unnerving tones of the LOCCENT AI, but something much, much different and far more dulcet in its range – greets him, accompanied by a flood of affection that seems to surround his consciousness.
Hello, Raleigh Becket. Welcome back to Gipsy Danger.
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Five years of waiting, wondering, and soul crushing loneliness. Doubt, pain, and bitterness had tried to consume her (they’d been constant companions during this time of her ‘life’), but she was resolute.
Eventually -- someday -- the prodigal son would return to her.
Raleigh had needed to heal, and Gipsy understood. She needed to do the same, though admittedly it would have been an immeasurably lighter burden to bear had he actually been around. The feeling of Yancy’s death through her own receptors and coping mechanisms had been one of the most horrible things that she’d ever undergone – she could understand Raleigh’s need for solace, for peace. Grief was something the jaegers could – and did – experience, though it was in different ways than humans. What taught the jaegers to truly feel and know and experience (and appreciate human life more fully than just what they were programmed to do) was the neural connection to their pilots. That’s part of how the jaeger AIs had slowly started to evolve, after all.
Experiencing Yancy’s fear and panic had been a double whammy she hadn’t anticipated – and as far as she knew, no one had ever experienced such a thing. Most pilots that went down went down together, and the jaeger with it. She knew of one other unit that had been through something similar, an old Mark I, but even old Tango couldn’t boast the price that Gipsy had paid.
It wasn’t just Raleigh and Yancy’s arrogance that had gotten him killed – it had been hers, too. She knew better than to turn her back on an unconfirmed kill. She should have made a suggestion, nudged her pilots during their celebration, anything.
Any little thing could have saved Yancy, but she’d done nothing.
Feeling Yancy’s pain through Raleigh and in turn, Raleigh’s own pain – physical and mental - had been nearly unbearable. It had been so great it had been nearly tangible, something that could be physically touched as opposed to simply felt.
The moment she and Raleigh had mutually realized they were ashore and safe – so to speak – he’d disconnected, and everything had gone black.
That had been the last she had seen or heard of Raleigh Becket, until the night that he had returned to her, seeking her forgiveness – forgiveness she gave immediately, because he is her pilot, and he is hers.
Now, amidst the hustle and bustle of the active jaeger crew, Gipsy is still and quiet though internally she is a bundle of anxious nerves, eager to receive her pilot but apprehensive about the new addition. He’s in the area, she can feel him, and when the connection initiates and her consciousness is sucked into the drift, she can also feel that smile on his face, so broad, so crooked - so familiar.
The handshake is strong and firm; Gipsy Danger is welcoming her pilot home with open arms.
Her voice – not the lilting, unnerving tones of the LOCCENT AI, but something much, much different and far more dulcet in its range – greets him, accompanied by a flood of affection that seems to surround his consciousness.
Hello, Raleigh Becket. Welcome back to Gipsy Danger.