Note: Written for norwegiansteamboat in the gift exchange of AH FanCon 2014.

Drift-compatible responder number zero one six seven activation protocol delta six: former Jaeger pilot requires emergency stabilization.  Previous drift partner killed in combat.  Physical status: compromised. Mental status: compromised.  Duty status: active.

Designation: John Kennex.

Jaeger pilots use names.  They react adversely to fast, unpredictable movement.  They typically withdraw after the loss of a partner, so he reaches out.  Slowly.  Unstable pilots are a danger to themselves and others.

"I'm Dorian," he says, as soothingly as he can.  "How are you?"

Kennex pulls back, and as his files update, he sees that the man's drift partner was killed ten years ago.  He didn't leave active duty until a recent coma unrelated to neurological scarring forced him out.  He's returned on the authority of one Sandra Maldonado: the same name responsible for activation protocol delta six. 

The connection is unclear, and he stops waiting for the man to explain it when he gets a finger in his face on the way out of the lab.  "Listen," Kennex says.  "I don't drift anymore and I don't need a DRN.  So I don't want to hear anything about a bridge or b-to-b with you, okay?"

He holds up his hands in a placating gesture.  "Your call, man.  I don't even like drifting."

It's true, though he probably shouldn't admit it.  It's what he was designed to do.  Jaegers are expensive resource pits in a post-Kaiju world, but the technology that drove them left a robotic legacy in coastal enforcement.  The systemic reluctance of the DRNs to bond with multiple partners is what got them shut down in the first place.

He doesn't remember refusing.  He's not refusing now.  He just doesn't want to, and Kennex says he doesn't want to either, so there's no reason they can't work together.

They do.  They work together very well.  Kennex tries to find out why they were put together when he realizes Dorian wants to know, and he seems personally offended when he can't.  It brings them closer together instead of driving them apart.

They talk about drifting.  Not with each other, never with each other.  But he learns that Kennex drifted with his dad until he died, and one night he tells his partner that he thinks he remembers what the drift feels like.  It's not much: they erased his memory when they shut him down the last time.  Kennex says he's lucky.  Dorian's not so sure.

It takes him a while to realize that Kennex doesn't have any friends.  The man bonds with his division the way everyone in a war zone does: tightly, out of necessity, but not deeply.  They could clear the coast tomorrow, put down all the hackers and protectionists and genetic engineers gone rogue, and the division would dissolve.  None of them would ever see each other again.  They’d probably be glad of it.

Except Maldonado, he thinks.  She won't tell them anything, but she likes Kennex.  They might stay in touch.  Dorian's not allowed to contact humans outside of enforcement, but the ones in it treat him well enough.  They follow Maldonado's lead, he thinks, and she humors Kennex.  If Kennex wants to pretend his partner is a real person, she'll go along with it.

Kennex does pretend he's a real person.  It's a leftover imprint from before Independent Technology, maybe, from the days when robots were controlled in the drift or not at all.  Maybe all the way back to the Jaegers.  Kennex says he doesn't drift, but he remembers what it feels like, and sometimes Dorian does too.

It feels like you're whole.  Like everyone in that headspace is whole with you.

Like the drift makes you real.

Dorian doesn't want it.  He doesn't want to be controlled again, not even by Kennex.  But he owes his existence to the Kaiju that devastated the planet, and he probably owes what happiness he's found to the subconscious assumptions Kennex developed while fighting them.

The XRNs are easier for the division to work with--and to ignore.  They're soldiers, through and through, and they're turned loose on violent populations with little supervision.  Dorian befriends one named Danica, and what he learns about her methods makes him wonder if humanity will ever recover from the fear they’ve known.  She laughs at his concerns and promises to come for him when Kennex gets tired of him.

He's not sure whether to be reassured by that promise or frightened by it.

The day he learns true fear comes too fast.  He should have expected it, should have known Maldonado was right through observation if nothing else: Kennex is unstable, he's compromised and conflicted when he can least afford it.  So when Dorian goes down, overpowered and alone, and he hears Kennex reveal his location with a shout, it's the sound of gunfire that scares him more than the imminent neural failure.

He might die.  John Kennex has to live.

"You're a goddamned idiot," he hears a voice say, some time later.  He can't see anymore.  "I swear you did this on purpose.  You're gonna make me wear the clamp, aren't you.  Hold on.

"Seriously," the voice adds, "hold on.  I got no plans to die twice."

He thinks he can still feel the ground underneath him, but maybe that's because he knows it must be there.  He can also feel someone lifting his head, so clearly there's a sensory disconnect somewhere.  Probably everywhere.

Then his visual input goes wild and bright and he thinks he's done for until he realizes he's seeing himself.  He's seeing John.  He sees everything, he remembers everything, and it’s all bursting behind his eyes.  If he's dying it's the most vibrant thing that's ever happened to him.

Drift-compatible responder number zero one six seven initiation protocol alpha two: human-responder drift initiated.  Neural load rebalancing.  Emergency shutdown aborted.  Stabilization: complete.  Synchronization: complete.  Neural handshake: strong.

Drift partner: John Kennex.