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Summary: Inspired by the Pacific Rim Johnlock AU devised by @jbaillier, this story explores what happens next after the events of Drift Compatible, especially the pressure Rangers Sherlock Holmes and John Watson will face in their drifting relationship that lies at the heart of their control of the Jaeger, Ravager. It is worth reminding readers that the Atlantic Marshall, Mycroft Holmes, is not a fan of his younger brother and quite hostile to Sherlock and John’s recent success at bringing the Ravager to battle-readiness.
The Atlantic Marshall takes a moment to stand by the forty-fourth penthouse floor's window and survey the iconic view of the Thames, noticing that the tide has turned. Time and tide wait for no man. It is a reminder that some things have not changed. The ancient proverb is a cautionary tale; today, the Marshall feels like a modern-day King Canute, assembling his courtiers to demonstrate that even a king cannot stall the forces of the inevitable.
“A pleasant view.” This judgment is offered by the petite, middle-aged Chinese woman standing beside him.
“Is it?”
Perhaps Mycroft Holmes’ questioning makes her consider the contrast between it and what she sees out of her office window in Hong Kong, which still bears the scars of the kaiju. In any case, her eyes narrow and she retorts bitterly, “London is fortunate. It has become a magnet, attracting those who have the money to flee the battle zone.”
Mycroft decides she has a point. From this height, the Thames is a ribbon of silver cutting through London’s thriving conurbation. Fuelled by rich Asians fleeing from the battle zones of the Pacific, over the past twenty years London’s property values had skyrocketed as much as the high-rise buildings that now litter the landscape. Apart from Singapore, London now hosts the largest number of Chinese expats in the world.
Liwen Shao had flown in from Shanghai this morning, but shows no sign of jet lag. In her clipped but fluent English, she continues, “What Asia lost under the onslaught of the kaiju, London gained. I would have thought this would have pleased you, Marshall.”
He lets his eyebrows shrug his scepticism. “No one could be pleased at the devastation of another city. And what you see as success here has its own consequences. Expansion has been at the expense of the local British population, many of whom can no longer afford to live in the capital.”
“This is the yin and yang, the push and pull of globalisation, nothing more.”
He wishes he could be so philosophical about it. Political pressures in Western democracies curtail choices that are less problematic for the mainland Chinese government.
There is a faint smile on Liwen Shao’s lips, heightened by the bright red lipstick that she has matched to her severe suit. “This old building… an unusual choice for the Pan Pacific Defence Corps.”
“On the contrary, Miss Shao. You, above most, should appreciate the irony. It was the London headquarters of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation, the very symbol of Asia’s commitment to London’s role as the world’s international banking centre.” Mycroft has always had a liking for the building. The Norman Foster design is twentieth-century brutalist, angularly square and defiant, echoes of a time when architects assumed that the British ruled a world empire and humanity ruled the universe. How little we knew.
“Ancient history,” she says dismissively. “HSBC was just another casualty of war.”
They both know that the first breach war changed the face of Asia’s future forever and led that continent’s premier financial institution to eventual collapse. Re-purposing this building as what is essentially a military embassy has always struck Mycroft as wholly appropriate, a sort of physical statement of the commitment of the British Government to the PPDC’s role as the defender of earth against aliens. It was rare enough British generosity—a sentiment perhaps—for a nation so far away from the battle zone.
...
“Sir? We’re ready to begin.”
His ADC, Anthea McAllister pitches her voice quietly, but with enough urgency to break through the Marshal’s reverie.
Into battle. He straightens his shoulders and pulls his dark blue jacket down. He doesn’t often feel the need to wear the official uniform—his job is more political than military command—but today it is needed to make a point to the Chinese.
As Marshall Holmes shows Liwen Shao to her seat, the lighting in the Comm room dims to blue; the plasma screen windows darken to shut out the view completely. As his eyes adjust, he moves to take his seat along one side of the upper circle, raised and banked to allow the audience to focus on the full impact of the holographic displays and the connected Fog Screens used to create realistic 3D landscapes with weather effects. The latter is for show but sometimes smoke and mirrors are needed to convince a potential backer that the PPDC is the most cutting-edge means of preserving human autonomy.
"Begin," he commands.