The Wonderful World of Pokemon

[Ragnell]

I haven't been active around here since I canceled my last story, but I've finally come back for a bit. While I'm here, I figured I should post one of my new projects, a Pokemon fanfic. The idea for this story came to me when I thinking about how to make Pokemon a bit more mature and realistic. I was wondering what kind of uses there would be for Pokemon in modern technology, doing stuff like generating electricity, pumping water, and transporting people. Then I thought it would be a cool idea to write a Pokemon story set in a dystopia. This story is a combination of those ideas, set 100 years after the stories of the main videogames in the series (including Coliseum and X D). My goal is to give my version of what would really happen in my sarcastically named 'Wonderful World of Pokemon'. Enjoy!

Oh, and as always, criticism is welcomed and encouraged. But please keep it in the feedback topic that shares this topic's name.

The Wonderful World of Pokemon

Prologue: X in the Dark

“Therefore, it is the opinion of the legislature that the creatures known as Pokemon are an unmistakable threat to society and common law. As such, the possession of said creatures is hereby prohibited in all cases except in those in which a permit is granted to the creature's owner by the executive governing body of the region. And in all cases, so called 'Pokemon battling' is prohibited, due to its cruel and unusual nature.”

-2120 Final Ruling Regarding Pokemon

Only a thin glimmer of light illuminated the tall woman as she strode briskly down the dark alley and towards a small, battered shop packed between what seemed to be two abandoned bars. The entire town was silent, and each of her footsteps echoed off the walls of the nearby shops, returning to her ears almost as loud as they had left her feet. Cans, bags of trash, and old boxes were littered across the street, and not a soul was in sight. The only light on the block was a streak of moonlight from a crack in the cavern ceiling far above.

The woman was thin and pale, wearing a tight silver uniform with a tall collar, flaring sleeves, and knee-high, blue-lined boots. There was a dark blue 'X' emblazoned on the left side of her shirt, and she wore a pair of silver half moon spectacles in front of her narrow bright blue eyes. Her hair was startlingly white, and seemed to almost shine in the dark street. The shimmering locks were pulled back into a tight braid that hung down from a large, crescent-shaped pin.

Arriving at her destination, the woman reached out one of her sleek, white-gloved hands and knocked almost silently on the shop's door. It didn't matter that the shop's occupants couldn't hear the knock; they would already know she was there.

There was a crunching noise on the other side of the door, and, after a moment of waiting, it slid open before her. Just inside the doorway was a tall, muscular man wearing a dark blue uniform with silver trim, holding a machine gun over his shoulder. He also wore an X shaped badge on his chest.

The soldier saluted to the woman and said quietly, “The Executive is waiting upstairs.”

The woman nodded curtly to the man and entered the battered shop, which looked just as antique on the inside as it did on the outside. The machinery lining the walls was nearly ancient, and the woman couldn't even recognize the function of half of the devices hung by the door. She even spotted a computer in the corner of the room with a two-dimensional display.

Almost immediately, the woman found the tall, thin staircase headed upwards, and she gracefully ascended it to the second story without another word. The hall upstairs was much more tastefully decorated than the mess downstairs, with ornate rugs, skins, and tapestries lining the walls and floors. The door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar, and a faint glow emanated from around the steel frame.

Without any hesitation, the woman pushed open the door and entered the lit room. The walls and floors of that room were covered in exquisite art pieces, exceeding even those in the hallway. But the only pieces of furniture in sight were a small wooden chair and a large desk, which sat perpendicular to the doorway and a window on the wall opposite the door.

A single figure sat behind the desk, staring intently at a holographic computer display. It was a young man, no more than twenty-five years old, with brown hair combed neatly forward on his head. He was tall, tan and was wearing a black, unbuttoned, single-breasted suit, a blue tie, and a white dress shirt.

As the woman entered the room, the man raised his gaze from his hologram and smiled warmly at her. “Ah, Commander Lunette, I'm glad you could make it.”

Lunette wanted to reply in kind, but just as she was about to speak, she remembered that she had never actually heard his real name. Most others referred to him as The Executive, if they mentioned him at all. Usually, people would omit his name and just say that they 'received orders,' since everyone understood exactly where the orders were coming from. Normally, Lunette agreed with the need for secrecy, but as she stood there awkwardly for a second, she wished she could have at least some name to call him by, since The Executive hardly seemed an appropriate way to address someone to their face.

Realizing that she still hadn't replied, Lunette nodded and answered, “Yes, as am I. As you most likely already know, Solari was occupied elsewhere today. I will have the recordings of this meeting sent to him, so that he may remain up to date with his orders.”

“Recordings?” the man said with a slight air of disdain. “I'd rather you just send a synopsis of the orders to him via computer. As you know, I recently acquired a safe network for us to operate through.”

“Of course,” Lunette responded almost immediately, “it will be done.”

He smiled, obviously humored by her quick response. “Now, onto business... regarding what I sent you, I have a new client with a rather unusual request.”

“From what you said in the letter, they sounded quite unusual indeed,” Lunette said, remembering the email she had received just days ago. “But what is it exactly that they have requested? If it is the capture of a Pokemon, it cannot be too unusual.”

The man paused for a moment, his grin widening. “Are you familiar with the legends surrounding the universe's creation?”

“Which? There are several that I know of.”

“The story of Arceus, of course,” he answered quickly, obviously expecting Lunette to have recognized which tale he meant.

“Yes, I know that one,” she said, analyzing the young man's warm expression. He nodded, so she continued, “It is said that the Pokemon Arceus was born from an egg before the universe existed, and that he created the creatures Dialga and Palkia to rule over time and space. He then created Giratina to rule over another dimension and created Mew and the three spirits to give life to all humans and Pokemon.” The man nodded again, seemingly staring at the wall behind Lunette pensively. “But I must ask,” she continued, “what does this have to do with our client?”

The man stood from behind his desk and strode lazily over to the single window in the room, looking out over the dark street. After a moment of silence, he said, “I must admit, that tale has always intrigued me. I consider myself a Pokemon expert, and theories regarding the four Pokemon that rule over the universe are particularly interesting subjects. The thought of a Pokemon shaping the universe seems almost too ridiculous to grasp in these modern times. After all these years of human dominance over Pokemon, I think we all assume that we have always ruled over our Pokemon counterparts.”

“Yes, but what does this have to do with our client's request?” she asked again.

The young man turned away from the window and faced Lunette directly, obviously masking a small grin. “Those legends are entirely true. Scientists have known it for years, as our client made apparent to me. There was even a time in history, about a hundred or so years ago, when the four ruling Pokemon came to the region of Shinnoh. Of course the government has covered it up, claiming secretly that it will prevent dangerous people from seeking out these powerful creatures. But our client would like us to find those four unique Pokemon for them. And, for what is easily the largest payment we have ever been offered, they would like us to capture the beasts.”

Lunette stood in shock. The idea was insane! It was ridiculous and impossible! Even if the four god Pokemon did exist, there was no way to capture them. Arceus created the entire universe; how were they supposed to subdue a force like that? “I... I don't- I don't know...” she stammered, utterly at a loss for words.

“This task will require our team's full effort, so I am assigning both you and Solari to individual sub-objectives. I too will be taking part in this particular mission, so I will be in contact with both of you for the duration of this task. I would like you to personally head up a team of researchers to find a way to capture the Pokemon of time and space, Dialga and Palkia. I would suggest viewing any available records of the technologies used at the time of their last appearance, since it is rumored that a certain Pokemon Master was able to conquer both of them around that period. If you would like more specific details, I can provide them, of course. Solari will be researching the methods of summoning the beasts, since I'm sure you are aware that they reside in alternate dimensions. I will lead the research into Giratina, the alternate dimension Pokemon, here. I think it would be wise for us to capture the first three before we worry about Arceus.” The man returned to the chair behind his desk, and gingerly sat down on the leather cushion, his gaze never leaving Lunette.

She noticed that her mouth was gaping open as she watched him. “I... I don't... yes, of course. I will begin research with my factory team immediately. Any documents that you can provide will be greatly appreciated.”

“Do you have any other concerns?” he asked, leaning back in the chair.

“...Yes,” Lunette answered after pondering for a moment. “What should I do if the Red Army interferes?”

The man laughed in what seemed to be genuine enjoyment, a truly rare occurrence. “I assure you, they will not be a problem. They're too busy chanting about their 'Right to Fight' and terrorizing government facilities to worry about us. If they do get in the way, eliminate them. I have many contacts in high places. They will cover up any unfortunate slips.”

“Thank you. I will await your further instruction,” she said, turning to leave the room.

“Oh, one last thing,” he said quickly as she reached the door.

“What is it, sir?”

The young man's lips were shaped in a smile, but Lunette could tell that he was making several calculations behind those deep blue eyes. “...My name is Rynce.”

Edited November 23, 2010 by Ragnell

[Ragnell]

Chapter 1: Gotta Catch 'Em All

(Three Years Later)

To: Agent 56

From: Agent 2

Subj: Agent 298, Obj. 23920

Captain Johnson,

Agent 298 has still not reported back from his most recent objective. It is requested that he be located immediately. Please assign one mobile agent to the task. Agent 298 was operating in Objective 23920, and last reported from the desert two and a half miles north of Site L. He was in possession of a silver Mach 9000 desert motorcycle, license plate number 6436-ML. Report back if the target has not been found within two days of mobile agent deployment. If found, communicate back his condition, and further actions will be assigned.

Commander Smith

The metal door slid shut with a clank as a tall, thin boy jogged into the narrow steel-walled corridor, a large brown sack slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a dark blue jacket over a white and red shirt, and had several skid marks on his worn blue jeans from months of sliding, fighting, and infrequent washing. A pair of large black goggles were lodged in his long mess of brown hair, which hung down to his dark eyes.

After scanning the hallway for any other bystanders, the boy walked confidently forward to what he deemed was a safe distance from the door and drew a small metal device from within his jacket. The device resembled a metal pen, with a small red button where its eraser should have been. He examined the pen for a second and then pressed the button with a grin, bracing himself for the result.

The room behind him exploded.

The blast shook every wall of the complex, and a bright red and white light flashed below the door behind him. Without waiting another second, the boy took off running, racing down the corridor towards the building's exit. He knew the alarms would go off at any second, and then the security would arrive. But it would be too late for them; by the time they got to the room, he would be long gone.

The boy flew around a corner and down another hallway, this one lined with doors. As he passed the second door on the right, several spinning red lights on the walls began flashing, and a voice on the intercom announced, “All personnel evacuate immediately. I repeat, all personnel evacuate immediately. This is not a drill.” The boy grinned; a slow reaction, as usual.

Before any of the doors around him could open, the boy had rounded another corner, heading down a relatively wide hallway. As he slowed for a moment, he noticed that the building around him was eerily quiet, besides the annoying squealing of the alarm. According to his research, there should have been at least a hundred people in that wing of the building, and about then they all should have been fighting to escape. But nowhere could he hear the familiar scuff of footsteps. The boy took off again, unease slowly filling his dark brown eyes. He cleared another hallway. Then another. Still, he was completely alone.

“Two more corners and I'm out,” he mumbled to himself as he ran. He dashed around yet another corner, and found that a room about fifty feet away was open. As he neared the door, two tall men in suits stepped out from within, and one drew a gun.

“Stop right there,” the man said in a deep, gruff voice, pointing the gun at the boy.

Watching as the second man – who was oddly wearing a pair of sunglasses, even though he was indoors – also drew out a gun, the boy skidded to a halt and swore, raising his hands over his head and dropping the brown bag to his feet. It looked like the security wasn't quite as bad as he had hoped.

“Step away from the bag,” the first man said, inching closer to the brown sack.

Face slowly turning pale, the boy took several steps backward. The man lifted the sack and loosened the drawstrings, peering inside. Satisfied with what he saw inside, he tossed it to the sunglasses-wearing man and returned his attention to the boy in front of him.

“What's your name, boy?” he asked calmly.

The boy's eyes widened, and he glanced down the hallway in both directions before he answered, “...My name is... Blaze.”

The suited man's eyes narrowed. “Not a very common name, Blaze. You sure that's it? Wouldn't want to be caught lying now, would you?”

The boy just glared at the man in contempt.

The man laughed and said quietly, “That's a lot of Pokemon you just stole. And setting off that bomb wasn't very smart on your part.”

“Stealing back stolen Pokemon isn't a crime, it's a duty,” Blaze replied blankly.

“So you're with the Red Army, are you?”

“I never said that,” he answered quickly. “I just said I did what was right.”

The suited man's grin faded. “Not feeling like telling the truth, eh? You terrorists sicken me.” He strode slowly around Blaze, taking up a position behind him. “We better take this scoundrel to the mayor,” he said to his partner. The other man nodded, and the first man jabbed Blaze in the back with the barrel of his pistol.

Blaze began to walk forward, and was lead down two more hallways before he was told to stop in front of a silver door by the second man.

“Alright punk, empty out your pockets.”

“You sure you don't want to frisk me?” Blaze asked sarcastically.

“Shut it,” the first guard said angrily, holding out his hand. Blaze reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a gun and a pokeball. He dropped both in the man's extended hand, and took a step back.

“Just so you know,” Blaze said smugly, “There's a homing device in that pokeball. So my friends will go pick it up for me from wherever you send it.”

The first guard snorted. “Like you Reds could afford homing beacons. You fools'd probably go bankrupt if we left you alone.”

Blaze grinned; his facade had obviously worked marvelously. While the man had indeed called his bluff on the pokeball, the man failed to realize that Blaze had only mentioned it to see if the guards expected him to have a homing beacon in the first place. Because, as luck would have it, Blaze did, in fact, have one strapped firmly to the palm of his right hand, hidden inconspicuously under a black leather glove. A single click of a button on the device's face would send help racing toward him by land, sea, and sky to free him from any prison.

“Hey you little sneak, what's that bulge in your other jacket pocket?” the sunglasses-wearing guard demanded, pulling Blaze from his mental gloating.

Blaze's face paled a bit. “You want my wallet? What, you gonna rob me?”

“Hand it over,” the first man said, shaking his gun at Blaze's face.

Blaze hesitated for a second and then pulled out his black leather wallet. He had never expected that they would know to check his wallet for anything. Trying to sound confident, he said, “Hey, I'm really thirsty from all that running, so could you go buy me a soda from a vending machine or something? I've only got like a hundred bucks in there, so its not like you could buy anything else with it.”

The red-faced man snatched the wallet from Blaze and shook it upside down, dropping all the money and cards within to the floor. He scanned the cards on the floor and then turned the wallet over again. Blaze's mind was racing. He couldn't let the men find his Pokemon trainer card; with it, they could get into any of the Red Army's bases. It listed all his personal information and would give them access to virtually all of the group's secrets.

“So,” he babbled reflexively. “I guess that's a no on the drinks.”

There was a tearing sound, and the man tossed a ripped piece of black cloth to the ground. Blaze waited in anticipation, hoping futilely that the cloth wasn't the false back to his wallet. Triumphantly, the man drew out Blaze's sleek gray trainer card, flashing it briefly to his comrade. Blaze groaned loudly, looking into the man's fiery eyes.

“Nice try, kid. Next time, make the fake back the same shade of black as the wallet.”

Regaining his composure, Blaze held up his hands sheepishly and retorted, “I swear officer, that's not mine. I've never seen it before in my life.” As soon as his right hand reached his head, he wished that he hadn't moved; if the guards noticed that one of his hands was gloved and the other was not, he'd lose his last plan of escape. If they pulled of his glove, he could kiss his emergency homing beacon goodbye. And if he was held captive long enough, the Red Army could easily be infiltrated by any number of government agents now that they had a trainer card.

Slowly, and as discreetly as possible, Blaze lowered his hands, sliding them into his jean's pockets. He could press the homing beacon's signal button at any time, but the guards still had his trainer card and his pokeball, so what was the point in escaping?

The second man stepped forward and pressed several buttons on a keypad next to the door before them, causing it to slide silently open. The room beyond was fairly small, with a few tables and chairs and a large desk inside. Leaning against the desk was a middle-aged businessman with neatly combed, pitch black hair, whom Blaze assumed was the mayor. The man was wearing dress clothes and a tie, and Blaze noticed that a suit jacket was hanging on the back of the chair behind the desk. Two soldiers were crouched down beside the desk, both pointing large automatic guns at the opening door. As they saw the two suited men with Blaze, they stood and moved to the side of the room, raising their weapons.

The mayor smiled and clapped his hands. “Ah, Damian and Harold. This is the person behind that explosion, I assume?"

“Yes sir,” the sunglasses-wearing guard beside Blaze answered, “we found him running out of the building with this bag of pokeballs, and he admitted to setting off the bomb. I have the recording here.”

Blaze almost swore again. The men had tricked him into admitting that he had blown up the room. Now he'd have that to deal with too, if he didn't escape.

“Excellent work, as usual, Damian,” the mayor said. “What is the boy's name?”

“He says his name-” the man, apparently named Damian, began.

But before he had a chance to finish, Blaze stepped forward and interrupted angrily, “My name is Blaze.”

“Blaze is it?” the mayor asked, standing up straight and slowly approaching his prisoner with a quizzical but sly expression. “I've never met a Blaze before. What area is that name from? Certainly not from Orre.”

“Sir,” the second guard, Harold, interrupted, “it says on his trainer card that his name is David Arthur Jones. He's nineteen years old and he's from New Phenac.”

The mayor's eyes narrowed. “Let me see that trainer card,” he ordered. Harold meekly handed the card to the mayor, and set Blaze's gun, wallet, and single pokeball on the desk beside him. The mayor examined the card briefly and then pocketed it. “Well, David,” he said, returning his attention to the boy before him, “I'll cut right to the chase. You were just caught stealing over fifty legally confiscated pokemon, owned by the national government, and you personally admitted to setting off an explosive device inside a government facility. You've also been found to be directly linked to the Red Army, a dangerous terrorist organization. Given that, I could lock you up for the rest of your life, and no one would ever even think twice about it.” The man paused for a moment, as if allowing his message to sink in.

“But I'd like to propose a bargain with you. I will let you off with five years in prison and a couple of hours of community service, and all you have to do is tell me the exact location of the Red Army's headquarters and how to get inside. As you know, we already have your trainer card, and we have scouts scouring the countryside, so it's only a matter of time until we locate it even without your help. But I'm offering you your life back. I like to believe people should always be given a second chance. One should always look to forgive before they look to condemn.” The mayor smiled quickly, but his face quickly turned blank again. “But first, I need you to prove that you want to change and start a better life. I know it's a lot to ask, but I need an answer now. Do we have a deal?”

Blaze almost grinned. The mayor obviously thought he had the mind of a second grader. While beginning to talk, the boy slowly pressed the emergency button in the palm of his right hand. It was now or never; he could very easily find himself in a jail cell within minutes. “With all due respect sir, I'm going to have to decline your offer. You said it yourself: no one will ever ask what's happened to me if you lock me up. I'm a nobody. So what's to stop you from putting me in prison for the rest of my life anyway? No one will notice that you accidentally forgot to hold up your end of the deal. I know your type. And I know you're bluffing about finding the Red Army's base too. Your scouts gave up weeks ago! The whole world knows it. How dumb do you think I am?”

“Hey!” Damian cried, stepping close to Blaze and raising his fist. “Remember who you're talking to, punk! This is the mayor of Gateon!”

“That won't be necessary, Damian,” the mayor said quietly. “Now David, I've given you a choice and you've decided to...” But his voice trailed off as his eyes fixed on Blaze's right hand. The glove was shaking about wildly at Blaze's side as the metal homing device below it flashed and vibrated. A tinge of fear flashed through the mayor's eyes, and all four of the guards in the room raised their weapons.

Blaze glanced quickly at the sole window in the room and saw a flash of green shoot by. He had no idea how his backup had arrived so quickly, but the fact that the mayor and his cronies seemed to think that the beacon was a threat was very encouraging. “Now, I think you all understand that I will not be going to prison,” Blaze said calmly, slowly stepping towards the guards. If he was going to get out alive, he'd need to convince all five government agents to leave the room. An idea instantly popped into his mind as he slowly paced forward. “In a few seconds we'll all be blown into little pieces by this bomb in my hand.”

“Now now,” the mayor said hastily. “I'm sure we can work up a deal.” Even as he spoke, he was slowly creeping towards the room's single exit, with his guards closing in around him. Never once did his eyes leave Blaze's glove.

Thinking quickly, Blaze tried to calculate what he could say that would prevent the guards from shooting him immediately. “Sorry,” he said with a slightly insane grin, “but there's no off button on this bomb. No more deals.” Trying to solidify himself as a maniac in the five men's view, and make it look like he wouldn't pursue them into the hallway, he sidled over to the desk and sat smugly on the end of it. “So now... any last words?”

Suddenly, without warning, all five men spun and sprinted out the door, obviously trying to put as much distance between themselves and the bomb as possible. The electronic door slid shut behind them before they had even had time to make it down the hallway. Blaze grinned and hopped off the desk as soon as they were around the corner, striding over to a panel next to the door, and pressing a small red lock button. The guards were idiots; they didn't even bother to shoot him, and they left him his pokeball too. Returning to the business of escaping, he snatched up his pokeball from the mayor's desk and shoved it in his jacket. He hopped up on a thick metal table in the corner of the room, right beside the sole window, and kicked the glass as hard as he could. The window didn't even budge. Blaze began to panic; the window was his only means of escape, and the guards would call his bluff soon. If the window was reinforced well enough, he was trapped. He backed up again and kicked with all his strength at the middle of the window. A crack moved across the glass, but still it didn't break. One last time, Blaze wound up and struck out at the window, this time shattering the glass outward, and leaving only a few fragments of glass in the frame. Down the hall, he heard the guards yell something as they began thundering back towards the room. Obviously, they were beginning to realize that they they had been duped.

Blaze pressed the button on his glove again, silencing the irritating alarm and alerting his backup that he was ready to get out. The footsteps in the hall were nearing every second, but nowhere in sight was a sign of his help. The rough sounds of boots on tile reached the door within seconds, but still no help arrived. Even from across the room, Blaze could hear the guards rapidly pressing the buttons to unlock the door. Blaze took one last fleeting look at the room behind him, roughly jammed his goggles onto his face, and threw himself out the window, trying his best to avoid the remaining shards of glass in the window frame.

Around him, wind rushed by as he began to plummet downward five stories in what he estimated would take less than a quarter of a minute. As he looked up, he spotted that the window he leaped from was right above a large sign that read 'Orre Region Administration Building'. Even as he was falling to his death, it struck Blaze as odd that the more secretive a building's purpose, the more bland and uninteresting its name seemed to be. Suddenly, Blaze's legs brushed up against something long and solid. He wrapped his legs around the form, and turned to see that it was a large, green, dragon-like creature. The creature – which Blaze found had bug-like wings, bulbous red eyes, and two backward-pointing horns – pulled sharply out of the dive and swooped several feet above the ground, before finally regaining some altitude.

On the creature's back sat another person: a slim woman slightly taller than Blaze wearing a green and black leather flight suit and a small jacket. She had short golden hair pulled back into a small ponytail and was wearing a pair of dark green goggles over her eyes.

“Hey Blaze, how'd it go?” the woman shouted friendlily to him.

“How do you think?” Blaze yelled back, wrapping his arms around her waist as her bug pokemon, Flygon, swerved to avoid a small flurry of gunfire from the building. Scanning the ground below, Blaze shouted forward, “Jade, can you drop me off at my motorcycle?”

Jade just laughed and pointed her left hand to a small plume of smoke rising from what was apparently the smoldering remains of his motorcycle on the ground near the building. “Oh...” was all he managed to respond with. He was sure that he could get another bike when he returned to the Red Army's base, so it wasn't a huge loss, but he still felt a bit sad that he had lost his favorite bike.

“Did you get back the stolen pokeballs?” The Jade shouted while signaling Flygon to increase altitude by kicking it softly with her right foot.

“Yes,” Blaze responded quickly, “but a couple of guards took them. They got my gun and trainer card too.”

“Wait!” Jade shouted frantically. “You lost your trainer card?!”

Blaze paused for a moment to scan her unbelieving expression. “Yeah,” he answered slowly. “They took my gun, my card, and my Pikachu, but I only managed to get Pikachu back. The mayor of Gateon has my card right now.”

“The mayor?!” she shouted. Her face had visibly reddened.

“Uh-huh,” he responded quickly, hoping to change the subject. “But, uh... anyway, how did you respond to my distress signal so fast?”

“The mayor, really?! ...ugh, crap, the Commander's going to blow a fuse...well, I was just checking in on you today because it's been two days since we heard from you, and... really, the mayor has it, c'mon?!”

“I couldn't fight back, they had guns!” Blaze defended. “I had to jump out a window, for god's sake! You saw me!”

The Flygon dove downward and landed on the hard desert sand with a signal from Jade. She gracefully hopped off the beast's back and pulled a small phone-like device from her jacket. She gave Blaze one last glare and dialed a number.

“Hello, this is agent Jade,” Blaze heard her say into the speaker, a slight twinge of annoyance in her voice. “Yes, yes, he's fine... I've got him right here. But he's lost his trainer card... ...Yes, I'm sure. No... he looks completely normal... fine, yes. So... what do you want me to do with him?”

“Wait a second!” Blaze interrupted in alarm, jumping off the Flygon and landing next to her. “What do you mean 'do with me'? C'mon, Jade, we're friends! You know me, I'm a Red through and through. You don't honestly think I've turned traitor just because I've lost a piece of plastic?”

Jade didn't even glance at him, remaining entirely emotionless as she listened to the speaker on her phone. Finally, after seconds of waiting, she said quietly, “Really? Is that necessary? I know there was that business a while ago with the lookalikes, and it's been a few days since he left, but-” There was another pause as the person at the other end of the phone spoke. “Fine,” Jade responded firmly, “I'll take him to Site F.”

Blaze's jaw dropped. His arm shook nervously and he felt a trickle of sweat drip down his forehead. Of all the places he could have been sent to, why did it have to be Site F? Why couldn't they just shoot him and be done with it? “C'mon, Jade... I'm not a traitor” he mumbled.

Jade pocketed the phone and stared off into the distance for a moment. “We don't think you're a traitor,” she said coldly. As if it pained her to do so, she reached into her jacket again and pulled out a gun. Without pausing for a second, she twirled around and pointed the barrel of the weapon at Blaze's nose, right between his eyes. Her lips were clenched together and her eyes were grim and determined.

“We think you're a fake. Empty your pockets, now.”

Edited December 1, 2010 by Ragnell

[Ragnell]

As a note to the readers, I've now added a short email before chapter 1, and I've moved the original excerpt from before the prologue to the beginning of the prologue. There will now be a short message -- be it a letter, some dialogue, or an email -- before every chapter. I would highly recommend reading them, though they aren't usually integral to the plot. Typically they will explain a bit of background about WHY the events of the story are occurring. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Site F

To: RagenL [office of defense]

From: Nelson [investigative bureau]

{Erase after Reading}

Subj: Oak Industries

As you requested, the bureau has investigated Oak Industries' recent expenditures. As you previously knew, their profits have decreased enormously since 2120's legislation took effect. Their main products: pokeballs and pokedexs, have been virtually eliminated, leaving them to sell only less Pokemon-centered products. However, in recent years their spending has increased markedly. The enclosed graph displays earning and spending for the past sixteen quarters, and you can clearly see the increase beginning two years ago during the second quarter. I would like to add, though, that the object of this spending has not been identified. As your agent so kindly informed me, this should be the extent of my bureau's involvement. All our findings are being encrypted and sent to your database.

Aaron Nelson

The next sixty minutes were the longest and most uncomfortably tense minutes of Blaze's life. For sixty minutes he flew in total silence on the cold, scaly back of Jade's Flygon and waited for his inevitable doom at Site F. For sixty minutes he sat beside his closest friend, but knew that she would not help him through the torture that was surely inevitable in that infamous location. And for sixty unbearable minutes, he felt totally betrayed.

After Jade had taken all his possessions away (still no frisking, much to his protest this time) and handcuffed him, he was sat on the back of her Flygon, and was piloted off towards the most dreaded spot in all of Orre. For near an hour they had flown, and still Blaze saw nothing that he recognized in the landscape. There was just sand, rocks, and more sand as far as the eye could see. It amazed him that Jade had discovered a flight path that never once crossed a single town or road.

Finally, just as Blaze decided that he should start a conversation to prove his innocence, the Flygon dipped slightly and glided down to land on a small patch of particularly flat dirt, surrounded by small, dead-looking shrubs. As soon as the creature landed, Jade hopped off and drew her gun again, pointing it threateningly at Blaze. On her command, he lowered himself clumsily from the dragon's back, his hands still cuffed behind his back. Once he was safely on land, she stood directly beside him, pulling the goggles off his face while still pointing the weapon at him.

“So,” Blaze started, eager to end the hour-long silence, regardless of how awkwardly he did it, “is this Site F? It really doesn't look like much. I expected a few more horrific killing devices – at least a guillotine or two. Maybe, could I suggest, a bed of spikes? Do you know some of the stories I've heard about this place? There could at least be a few, I don't know, solitary confinement areas. After all, I did lose a piece of plastic while risking my life for our cause.”

Jade shot him a glare after the last sentence, and tightened her grip on his arm. But after a second, a small smile crept across her pink lips, and she muttered, “At least you can convincingly be as thick-headed as Blaze.” Blaze bit his lower lip to stop himself from responding. “But,” she continued, “for your information, this isn't Site F. We couldn't hide the guillotines well enough out here. So we'll be teleporting to the actual location.”

As if on cue, there was a loud bang and a two figures appeared abruptly in front of Blaze and Jade. One was a large, yellow, humanoid Pokemon holding two metal spoons. Its limbs were thin and bony, and it had a large, slightly curled mustache that hung down from its long snout. Its eyes were small and haunting, and remained fixed on Blaze's face. Two threatening spikes protruded from the top of its yellow head. The other figure was a thin man dressed in a neat turtle-neck shirt and pristine pair of matching pants. He had curly red hair and was wearing a pair of black sunglasses.

“Good job, Alakazam,” the man said, patting his Pokemon. “You too, Jade. I trust there were no incidents with him.” On the last word, he nodded slightly in Blaze's direction.

“None whatsoever.”

The man smiled, “Good, then I'd like-”

“Wait a second,” Blaze interrupted. “Don't I get a well done too, Aran? After all, I was almost killed on my mission out there.”

Aran smirked at Blaze and then returned to his conversation. “As I was saying, Jade, I'd like to ask if you will accompany the prisoner and I to Site F. You know Blaze as well as I do, and if this is truly him, then I'm sure he'll be entirely uncompromising without you.”

“Hey!” Blaze exclaimed angrily, not sure whether to be more offended by the name 'the prisoner' or by the insult that had just been directed at him. “I'm right here! And Jade's not my mom! I don't need her with me.”

Jade shot Blaze a confused and slightly offended look, but then returned her attention to the newcomer. Aran smiled and continued, “So if you'd be so kind as to return your Flygon to its ball, Agent 102, I'll take us to Site F.” The woman quickly held out a small red and white pokeball, and with a press of a small button on its front, the ball opened on a hinge and the Flygon disappeared inside it with a flash of red light. As soon as it was gone, the Alakazam approached Blaze and his captor and nodded its head. On Aran's command they both placed their hands on its large, horned head, and waited for further instructions.

“Alright, Alakazam,” Aran said, placing his hand beside Jade's, “take us to Site F. Kids, whatever you do, don't let go.” Blaze rolled his eyes and returned to looking at the Pokemon he was touching. Aran's arrogance was beginning to irritate him.

Almost instantly, there was an earsplitting bang, and all the scenery seemed to melt away in a wash of colors. For a second, it seemed like the whole world was a mass of white, wildly spinning in every direction at once. The only only thing Blaze could make out from his surroundings was the swirling blob of yellow that he assumed was Aran's Alakazam. Around him, colors started to slowly leak back like dripping paint, and their new surroundings began to materialize.

The three Reds were once again in the desert, but this time, they were standing just outside a small abandoned train car. All the windows on the vehicle were smashed, and it was covered in rust and chipped paint, from years of being battered by the harsh desert winds. Several gasoline pumps sat outside the train, despite the fact that gasoline hadn't been used for power for over fifty years. A wooden ramp led up to the car's entrance, near its posterior end.

“This is it?” Blaze asked disappointedly.

“Of course this is it,” Aran said, obviously growing tired about all the sarcastic comments from his prisoner. “What were you expecting, a mountain fortress?”

Blaze couldn't help but smile; every minute that that cocky officer Aran was angry was a good minute for him. “No,” Blaze replied smugly to Aran, “but from all the stories I've heard about this place, I was expecting a bit more than a crappy train car.”

“Well I'm sorry that our modest abode is too meager for a higher-up such as yourself,” Aran growled sarcastically. “Now would you be so kind as to step inside, my lord?”

Blaze grinned all the wider and strode up a short wooden ramp to the door at the back of the train car. He entered and lazily took a seat in a small cushioned booth to his right. There was an L-shaped counter just inside the train's entrance, and there were rows of booths set up with small tables along the right side of the inside of the car. The place almost resembled a restaurant, and even had an old broken juke box against the wall. After entering, Aran took a seat on one of the five stools that lined the bar, and Jade leaned up against a wall near Blaze's booth.

“So now what?” Blaze asked, looking around to see if something was happening outside. “Do I just sit here until I die of boredom?”

“Do you ever shut up?!” Aran groaned. “Just sit there and wait. Please, just sit there and shut up and wait.”

Blaze shot Aran another fake smirk and grudgingly returned to staring across the room silently. As he waited, he decided that he would test his skills of observation, as his captain so often encouraged him to. The dreadfully old man's favorite saying was, “There can be no action without observation.” From what Blaze could see in the train car, there were a myriad of pipes protruding from the inside walls, but none of them seemed to be pumping anything. From the dust on each of them, Blaze could tell that no one had spent more than a short amount of time in the front of the car for at least several weeks. The booth across from him was almost free of dust, however, so he guessed that the area he was seated in had been used recently – within a week, at least. Content with his observations, Blaze turned back to his companions. He had always thought people were harder to read than surroundings, so he could feel his eyes narrow as he stared at the two as inconspicuously as possible. Slowly, as the minutes dragged on, he noticed that his fellow Reds were behaving a bit oddly. Both Aran and Jade's gazes were constantly moving, but they each returned to a single spot over and over again, with unnatural frequency. At least every two seconds one of the Reds glanced at a large blue circle in the front left corner of the train car, past all the booths and the jukebox.

Blaze licked his lips and asked, “So, what's going to happen in that circle back there?”

Aran rolled his eyes in exasperation and glared at Blaze. “Why don't you just wait like a good little boy and find out? I'm afraid that being an asinine twit is not going to help move things any faster.”

“I'm not going to wait,” the brunet answered calmly, “because I would like to know just what's going to happen to me after all this crap. If there's any way I can prove that I'm really Blaze, I'd like to do it sooner rather than later.”

“At this point,” Aran growled menacingly, “I think it would be reasonable for us to kick you out just for being an uncooperative, arrogant, narcissistic, and extremely irritating fool. Would you like that?”

“You forgot sarcastic,” Blaze added with a false grin. “I'm definitely sarcastic too.” If Aran was going to play power games, he had better be prepared for a battle, Blaze thought with satisfaction.

“Blaze, c'mon,” Jade sighed with a tinge of annoyance.

“I'm sorry Jade,” Blaze answered sincerely, “but this idiot-”

Before he could utter another word, there was an earsplitting bang and two shadowy figures appeared side-by-side on the blue circle in the front of the train car. The left one was a short, humanoid Pokemon with white legs, a red spike pointing from its chest, what looked like bright green hair on its large head, and sharp green blades along its arms. Blaze vaguely recognized it as a Gallade from the Pokemon manual he had been issued by the Red Army a year and a half ago. The other was a tall and muscular man wearing a slightly-too-small dress shirt, a tie, and sleek black pants. The man had his hair buzzed off, and his dark eyes seemed to almost hide behind his bushy brown eyebrows. In his hand was a clipboard and pen.

Both Jade and Aran immediately snapped to attention and shouted in unison, “Commander Barnes, sir!”

Blaze was about to climb out from the booth and salute, but before he had the chance, the commander waved his arm and said dismissively, “That won't be necessary now.” Before the two confused Reds had time to lower their arms, the massive man lumbered over and sat on the opposite side of the booth Blaze was half-standing in.

“Now, Agent 298, Blaze, would you take a seat?” The man's speech almost gave off a feeling of disinterest.

Blaze did as he was told immediately, and as soon as he was seated blurted out, “Commander Barnes, really, I'm not a fake. I just-”

“Agent,” the commander interrupted, “I don't want to hear your excuses. I don't want to hear your reasons, I don't want to hear your complaints, and most of all, I don't want to hear his complaints about your complaints.” As he said this, he nodded at Aran. “What I want to hear are the facts. Do you have your trainer card, or don't you?”

“I don't, sir,” Blaze said gloomily, staring at the edge of the table.

The man scribbled a quick note on the clipboard and continued, “And did you or did you not lose it within the Orre Reigon Administration Building?”

Blaze sighed. “Yes, I lost it there. The mayor of Gateon had it last I knew.”

The commander's eyes registered a flicker of interest, but then he returned to his blank stare.

Blaze gulped and asked, “Is there any way I can prove that I'm really me?”

The commander shook his head. “Blaze, I don't want to stop you from coming back to the base. We can't afford to lose any more agents than we already are. Things are rough enough as it is. But I'm not going to leave any chance that we're letting in an enemy agent. I can't let you by inspection just because Jade and Aran know you, regardless of how convincing the evidence is. The Red Army's procedure has to be uniform. We'll be creating a re-registration process for you as soon as possible.'

“Wait, you don't already have a process?” Blaze asked in a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Of course we don't,” Aran answered sharply, “no one else has been stupid enough to lose their trainer card yet.”

Barnes shot Aran a piercing glare and then stood from the booth. “Alright, Blaze, I've got a deal for you. We'll transport you back to your home town for the remainder of the week. You will keep your homing beacon on you, so that we can find you at the end of the week. When we've set up a procedure for you, we'll set off the beacon and transport you back here for your tests. I'm sure you can find something to do in your home town for one week, right?”

Blaze was tempted to mention that his father had left him as an infant, and that his mother had died three years ago, so he would have no place to live back in New Phenac, but he decided that it would be better if he just agreed with the plan. After all, he didn't want to get sent anywhere unpleasant for an entire week. “Can you get me some money to live off of?” Blaze asked, remembering that his wallet had been taken by the guards. “They took my money with my trainer card back in the building.”

The commander seemed a bit reluctant, but nodded and pulled out what looked to Blaze like somewhere between twenty and thirty-thousand pokedollars. Blaze politely grabbed the pile of paper bills from the man's hand and slid them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Jade,” Barnes ordered, turning to the young woman, “would you please return Blaze's Pokemon to him.” Jade did as she was told and rolled the red and white ball across the table to her friend. “Now,” the commander said roughly, “Blaze, will you step over to the teleportation circle with Gallade? I really do have other business I need to attend to.”

The swiftness of the order took Blaze slightly by surprise, and he felt his eyes widen slightly. He almost reflexively asked if he could stay a bit longer with Jade, but he quickly caught himself and decided to nod while remaining silent. He climbed out of the booth and proceeded slowly over to the circle.

As the commander's Gallade approached him and held out its bladed arm, Blaze looked sadly at Jade and murmured, “See you in a week, I guess.” She gave him a small smile, and he saw her hand twitch at her side in a half-wave. Blaze gripped the Gallade's arm and felt the familiar teleportation sickness wracking his body. Within seconds, all of his surroundings had melted away, and the small inside of the train car was replaced by a familiar alleyway about five minutes from his childhood home in New Phenac City. Almost instantly, the Gallade disappeared again, leaving Blaze alone in the alleyway. The brick walls of the shops on either side of the alley were very close together, and two blue garbage dumpsters sat closed near where the alley opened onto the street.

As Blaze glanced out to the street beyond, the enormity of his situation suddenly seemed to spring upon him. With a gasping breath, he staggered backward, breathing heavily. Just hours ago he had been planning a strategic raid on the Orre Administration Building for the Red Army, and now – only a few hours later – he had been captured, freed, captured again by his own companions, and finally accused of being a fake and teleported to a small town for a week. Now that the adrenaline was finally leaving his system, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he realized just how unlucky he had been. If only the men hadn't found his trainer card, he would probably already be back in the Red Army's Pyrite Town base, waiting for a new mission. But that was irrelevant, Blaze decided quickly. He would be back in a week anyway. And while the week sounded long and daunting now, he knew it would be done quicker than he could imagine.

The brunet Red sucked up his gut, took a deep breath, and exited the alley, shading his eyes as he stepped into the bright sunlight of the suburb's main street. While he recognized the road and several of the stores nearby, most of the buildings were foreign to him. It seemed a lot had changed within the five years since he left for boarding school.

******

Blaze's first destination in town was his mother's old house. While the well-maintained, single-story house had been sold after she had died, Blaze was curious to see what had befallen it recently. He could still remember running around the grassy front yard and playing with his mother's only Pokemon, Pachirisu as a young boy. Though it was probably in his best interest to find a cheap motel first, he decided that there was no real reason that he couldn't locate one later. There was still a good five hours before it would get dark.

The house was within walking distance of where he had been left by the Gallade, so he didn't bother trying to find a bus. Walking also gave him a chance to check out the town and look for cheap things to do for the next week. Anything that required identification was out of the question, so he ruled out R-rated movies and renting a motorcycle. Blaze yanked out his stack of bills and flipped through it, counting the exact amount of cash he had. It turned out, with the amount of money he was given, there wasn't much for him to do besides eat and sleep. Blaze sighed and continued on walking.

A half an hour later, as he finally neared what he remembered was his old block, he began scanning the row of buildings at the end of the street for his mother's house. What he found at the old address stunned him; the entire home had been demolished, and a large, two story house had been built in its place. Every building on the street seemed to be better-maintained than he remembered. It was obvious that the new residents were quite a bit wealthier than the ones from five years ago.

“Hey you!” a loud voice called at Blaze from behind.

The tired Red spun around slowly. “What?”

The person addressing him was a tall and pale man, with long, spiky brown hair pointing forward on his head. He was wearing a bright blue trench-coat and tall black boots. A silver badge sat on the man's chest, and his left hand was tucked lazily in his coat pocket.

“I recognize your face.” the man said with a grin. “You're with the Red Army, aren't you?”

Blaze's eyes widened, and he felt his entire body instantly tense for a fight. “No, why would you say that?!”

The man laughed and pulled his hand from his pocket, drawing out a metallic PDA device. A holographic screen appeared above the device, and the man punched several buttons. “Yup,” he said, evidently staring at a picture on the screen, “I was right, that's definitely you. You're even wearing that same jacket. David Jones, right?”

“How do you know that name?” Blaze barked, quickly analyzing the street for any escape routes. He could already see that he wasn't getting away without a fight.

“Since I'm such a good person, I guess I can tell you. My name is Navy. I'm a government Catcher stationed around here. You're mug's all over the webs today. You're a wanted man.”

“Wait...” Blaze began, scanning the badge on the man's chest. “Your badge is silver. Catchers have bronze badges. You're lying.”

“I'm what you call an Elite Catcher. I got this little badge because I've confiscated over a thousand illegally owned Pokemon. Now, about you...” The Catcher smiled wider and reached inside the top of his long trench-coat.

Blaze felt all the color drain from his face; the man was working for the government and he had a gun! Blaze's arm shot instantly for his own jacket, and faster than he could process, he had pulled out the pokeball containing his Pikachu. As he looked back at Navy, he noticed that the Catcher was also holding out a red and white pokeball. Blaze frowned in confusion.

The confident smile still sat on Navy's freckled face. “I've got a request for you.”

Edited December 1, 2010 by Ragnell

[Ragnell]

Yeah, I finally got around to finishing Chapter 3. As a note, I have edited the very end of the previous chapter a bit (only the part after the asterisks, don't worry). There were a few details that I intended to put in this chapter, but I decided would fit better in Navy's introduction. I would suggest re-reading that small part, since the details are rather important. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 3: I Choose You, Pikachu!

To: Member List 14

From: Commander Solari

Subj: Mission 237714

Mission Specifications: TF-5:30, 35:40, 139:45-N-E- Raid

Details: Locate and procure 12 Mach X000 desert motorcycles. Any Pokemon on site are to be left. Any found outside of the site are fair game. Use standard procedure to mark pedestrians with Pokemon. Two red bands will be provided for each member.

“What are you talking about?” Blaze cried at the smirking Catcher before him, who was still holding his red and white pokeball arrogantly outward.

“I should think it's obvious what I mean.” The man shook his pokeball in his hand and tossed it into the air, catching it again with a flourish. “I'd like to battle you.”

“Battle me? What do you mean? You just said you're a Catcher!”

The man tossed his ball up in the air and caught it again. “I am. But I'm also what you might call a collector. I find the rarest, strongest Pokemon in the world and keep them in my own private collection. I have here in this pokeball what might be one of the most powerful Pokemon I've ever taken. But I'd like to test its power on you.”

“No, you're lying! This is a trick!”

“Why would I bother tricking you?” the man asked, wiping one long spike of brown hair out of his eyes. “I have a gun in my coat right here.” He patted the left side of his coat. “You could be dead right now if I wanted to hurt you. But you're not dead, so I can't be lying. And I've got some proof of my claim too.” He swung open the right side of his coat, revealing rows and rows of red pokeballs latched to the inside of his jacket. “Here's a sample of my collection of rare Pokemon.”

Blaze stood unblinking, his mind racing. The man was probably lying, but what other choice did he have but to battle him? Navy had a gun!

“I don't see what's in it for me,” Blaze said shakily, trying to read Navy's face.

The Catcher lowered his pokeball and grinned. “Well reasoned, so I have an offer for you. If you can beat my Pokemon, I'll let you go free with your Pokemon. But if my Pokemon wins, you have to come with me without a fight, okay? Does that sound fair?”

Blaze felt his gaze straying to the man's trench coat, to the place where he claimed to have his gun stored. This was his last chance to run away with his Pikachu unharmed.

“O-ok. I'll do it. But when I beat you, you have to let me go.”

Navy nodded, his eyes gleaming with victory. Without another word, he stepped away from Blaze and hurled his pokeball high into the air. As it hit the ground, it opened on its hinge, and a thin blue Pokemon appeared in a brilliant flash of red light. The Pokemon seemed slightly canine, but stood on two black legs, holding its spiked hands forward like a martial artist. Its chest was tan and furry, and a pair of triangular blue ears stood from it's pointed head. A single spike protruded from the center of its chest, gleaming in the sun.

“That's a...” Blaze started, trying to remember the Pokemon from his manual. “Ri?... Lu...”

“It's a Lucario,” Navy said smugly. “A fighting and steel type. Lucario has the ability to see aura energy, and can sometimes read the thoughts of others.”

“Aura energy? Where did you get a Pokemon like that?” Blaze cried.

Navy laughed, shaking his head. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

Blaze felt his face flush red with anger. “You stole it from a trainer, didn't you!”

Navy chuckled again. “Define 'stole'.”

“It means taking something that isn't yours!”

Navy's thin lips curled into a smile. “The world's not black and white kiddo. Your definition is way outdated. I saved this Pokemon. Its last master was an abusive trainer who made it battle day in and day out in underground tournaments. So really, how bad am I for taking it?”

“You still took it!” Blaze said angrily.

“You're never gonna get anywhere with that outlook,” Navy answered, shaking his head. “Now stop stalling and send out your Pokemon.”

Blaze growled and leaped back, throwing his pokeball downward. It burst open, and a mouse-like creature the size of a small dog appeared from within. The Pikachu was bright yellow, with two pointed ears, circular red cheeks, and a large tail shaped like a lightning bolt.

Navy stifled a laugh. “A... Pikachu? Ha... haha! How do you expect to beat my Lucario with that?” He straightened his posture and thrusted his right arm outward, pointing directly at the Pikachu. “Lucario, give it a taste of your aura sphere.”

Only then did Blaze really examine the Lucario's face. It had a large scar across the left side of its snout, and black markings across its eyes similar to a racoon's. Its pupils were small, and its narrow irises were a haunting red color. Its gaze seemed to pierce right through Blaze, and its eyes never once wandered from the boy's face.

Upon its master's command, the Lucario turned slightly, glaring fiercely at Navy. But a second later it turned again to Blaze, without moving another muscle. Still, its burning eyes contained a savage hatred.

“P-Pikachu...” Blaze stuttered, “use the quick strike combo now.”

The lightning mouse darted sideways, and shot back and forth across the street so quickly that even Blaze couldn't follow its movements. The Lucario remained motionless, staring at the young Red before it.

“Lucario!” Navy shouted. “Do what I say! Attack his Pikachu with extremespeed!”

Still the blue Pokemon stayed still. It's harsh eyes never wavered from their target. It was so motionless that Blaze could even see the slow rise and fall of its chest. The creature closed its eyes slowly, lowering its arms to its side.

“Pikachu, attack!” Blaze ordered, swiping his arm through the air.

From behind Lucario's back, Pikachu lunged forward, head first, for a quick attack. But before the mouse's attack could connect, the Lucario spun around and swung its right paw forward, smashing its palm into Pikachu's face, and releasing a blast of what looked like blue flames.

“I didn't say use force palm!” Navy scolded.

The blue Pokemon dove forward and thrust its paw at its downed foe. But before the blow could connect, Pikachu leaped to its feet and scurried out of the way, leaving Lucario to punch the hard cement of a sidewalk. The canine creature's eyes narrowed with rage, and it raised its arms slowly above its head, creating a large ball of glowing blue energy between its palms.

Around the dueling Pokemon, a handful of watchful pedestrians had stopped in their tracks, admiring the illegal battle that seemed to be happening on an open street in broad daylight. Still, not a single person moved to break up the fight; they all recognized that the police would stop it if they wanted to. And none of the townsfolk were dumb enough to get in the way of angry Lucario.

“Pikachu, it's using aura sphere, get ready,” Blaze warned. “Stop it with a thunderbolt!”

The small mouse's cherry cheeks began to sizzle with electricity, as it readied itself for an attack. Short bursts of static electricity leaped across the small creature's frame, and its tail began to slowly rise into the air.

“Don't use aura sphere,” Navy commanded, glaring at his uncooperative Pokemon. “It can avoid that attack. Use dark pulse. Do it now!”

The Lucario's eyes narrowed, and it hurled its ball of energy forward, sending it spiraling at its small opponent.

“Now, thunderbolt!” Blaze cried.

The Pikachu's entire body seemed to flash with yellow electricity as the mouse released a bolt of lightning the size of a large tree trunk from its cheeks. The bolt collided with the Lucario's aura sphere in midair, releasing a cloud of smoke and a violent shock wave of energy which enveloped both adversaries.

Caught in the blast, Blaze coughed and waved his arms through the smoke, trying to see what had happened to his Pikachu. As the cloud cleared, Blaze saw that Pikachu was standing on all fours, only several feet away from the Lucario, which was lying unconscious on the ground.

“Yes!” Blaze screamed, jumping into the air and pumping his fists at the sight of his downed opponent.

Navy just shook his head in defeat and held out his pokeball. With a flash of red, the Lucario disappeared, and the Catcher straightened his posture. “Hey, Red!” the man said acidly.

Blaze turned from his Pikachu in surprise, just in time to see the Catcher toss his pokeball through the air. Blaze reached out his hand and snatched it up, looking at his opponent in confusion. “What's this for?”

“I don't need a weak Pokemon like that in my collection. Especially not one that purposely disobeys me. You Red's are always trying to 'rescue' Pokemon, right? So there you go, good job.”

“What? But why are you giving it... I don't know anything about Lucario. What am I supposed to do with it? How am I supposed to... you know, look after it?”

Navy sighed in exasperation, and approached the boy. He drew a rectangular red device from his coat pocket and tossed it to the ground at Blaze's feet. “Use that pokedex. It has all the information you'll need about Lucario, and every other Pokemon for that matter.”

“A-all right...” Blaze agreed uncertainly, pocketing the pokedex.

“Now, if you don't mind, I'll be going now. Don't let me see you around here again.”

“That's it?” Blaze said in disbelief. “You're just going to give me your powerful Pokemon?”

Navy snorted. “Hardly what I'd call powerful.”

As Blaze was about to reply, a loud explosion echoed between the nearby buildings from the center of town. Both men turned in surprise, and looked off into the distance. There was no smoke on the horizon, but they could hear many screams from downtown.

“Ah,” Navy said amusedly. “That must be Team X now.”

“Team X? What makes you say that?” Blaze asked skeptically. “What would they be doing here?”

Navy grinned. “Let's just say the government doesn't send Elite Catchers like me into towns only to battle Red Army punks who're looking suspicious. Those Team X idiots are robbing a couple shops downtown.”

“Then are you going to stop them and take the Pokemon yourself?” Blaze asked daringly.

“Don't worry, they actually aren't stealing Pokemon this time...” Navy frowned and checked his watch quickly. “...But yeah, I guess I should probably stop them.” He turned and began to slowly stride away from the confused Red. Just as Blaze was about to turn his attention away from the strange man, Navy suddenly spun around and exclaimed, “Wait, hey kid! Here, take this.” With a tight-lipped smile, the Catcher drew what looked like a large red headband from his inside coat pocket. As he pulled it out, two more bands dropped from the pocket to the ground. The man quickly scooped them up into his left hand and held out the first band to Blaze. “You might want to disguise yourself from Team X. Wrap that band around your hair and take off your jacket until you get some new clothes. That should change your appearance enough to avoid them. If they've seen your picture and recognize you as a Red, they'll steal your Pokemon on the way out for sure. And I'd rather you Reds keep your Pokemon than give them to Team X. Those guys are bad news.”

Blaze stood, speechless, and accepted the band with an open hand. He watched in bewilderment as the Catcher spun and took off towards the center of town at a jog, never taking so much as a sideways glance back. The band and pokeball still sat uncertainly in the Red's hands, and he could feel the new pokedex sitting in his pocket.

What had just happened? For seemingly no reason at all, a government Elite Catcher had just given Blaze a disguise, a rare and powerful Pokemon, a top-of-the-line pokedex, and, most importantly, hadn't even arrested him for being in the Red Army. And now the man was lazily slouching off to go fight a group of notorious criminals.

Blaze blinked, and shook his head, trying to return his attention to his current situation. He was still standing in the middle of a large town with no place to spend the night, and very little money to get by. And now, as Navy had demonstrated, he was in danger of being arrested. He pulled the elastic red headband – which he noticed had a white pokeball on the front – over his forehead and snapped it over his long brown hair with a twang. If he was lucky, he wouldn't even need to get his hair cut to stay disguised. With a glance both ways, he slipped casually off the street and found a bench outside of a nearby store to sit on. There were some nearby men who still seemed to be eying him, but that really didn't matter so long as none of them called the police.

He stripped off his blue jacket and laid it on the bench beside him. He'd need to get new clothes as soon as possible, and finding shelter for the night was definitely on the top of his to-do list, but he couldn't help but feel curious as to what exactly his new Lucario was capable of. It was the first Pokemon he had received since he caught his Pikachu so many years ago. Blaze drew out the pokedex he had been given and flipped through several menus to the page about Lucario. His eyes widened as he realized just how much information there was to read.

Lucario, the Aura Pokemon. Lucario have the ability to sense and see aura energy, which is given off by all living things. With this power and enough training, they can sense the movements, and sometimes even the emotions of creatures up to a half mile away. This is compounded by Lucairo's almost unique ability to understand human speech. Lucario have been known to firmly grasp human language within only several months of captivity. Some Lucario have even been able to replicate common speech and express ideas fluently through their telepathic language powers.

Blaze looked up in surprise, as he heard series of loud bangs from downtown. It sounded like Navy hadn't stopped whatever was happening there yet. The agitated Red couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about sitting in the open, but his curiosity overwhelmed him, and he returned to reading.

While these events are rare, research has determined that most, if not all, Lucario hold this potential. The most battle-prevalent skill of the Lucario, however, is its ability to channel aura energy. It's trademark attack, aura sphere, can unleash massive devastation on its foes, and other powerful attacks like force palm, dark pulse also channel aura energy. When charging aura attacks, a Lucario must be given time to focus the natural aura energy it gives off into the specific limb being used for the assault. The duration of the charging period varies for each Lucario, but repeated training with aura attacks can decrease the time needed to channel the power. If...

Blaze rapidly flipped the pokedex closed with a click as he heard the loud roar of several motorcycle engines coming down the street. Be it a gang, the police, or Team X, whoever was on the motorcycles would certainly not be friendly to a lone Red, he quickly figured. Without any hesitation, he jumped up from his bench and jogged around the street corner, hoping that he could slip into a nearby building before the bikers reached him. There were definitely better places for him to be sitting, since he had just finished up a public Pokemon battle. Hopefully there would be a clothing store nearby as well, so he could get a new shirt and end his paranoia.

Unfortunately, however, the noise grew rapidly louder, and a pack of three desert motorcycles shot around the corner behind Blaze. Before he had time to identify who was riding the bikes, Blaze skidded to a halt and tried to walk as casually as possible away from the bikes, keeping his gaze on the road before him. Since he had changed his look a bit, he knew that there was no real reason for them to suspect him. It wasn't like everyone sat around reading wanted posters all day. On top of that, it looked like they were a bit preoccupied to notice an unusual pedestrian.

But before Blaze could take three steps, a man on one of the bikes cried over the noise of his engine, “Look! That one's got the mark! That one, with the jacket in 'is hand! The red band!”

Blaze froze, his tan face paling. There were no other nearby bystanders with jackets, and certainly none with red bands; they were talking about him!

Still keeping his gaze forward, Blaze took off running, veering into a tight alley to his left. With any luck, the motorcycles wouldn't be able to fit in the alley to follow him. By the time the men had dismounted – whoever they were – he could be long gone.

The frantic Red slowed from his sprint for a moment to look behind him, spotting immediately that a single motorcycle-rider was just entering the alley after him, his stationary bike blocking the exit; the man was also shouting something into a radio in his hand. Blaze turned again to look ahead, but found that another desert motorcycle – this one a bright red color – was rolling to a stop to block his way out. Another man was leaping off the seat, ready to eliminate Blaze's only method of escape.

The Red stopped dead in his tracks, looking both directions for any doors. His heavy breathing echoed off the brick walls to either side. But the alley was empty. Other than a blue garbage bin, he and the men were alone.

“Hey kid!” the man approaching him from behind shouted, “this'll go a lot smoother if you just give us your Pokemon.” The man was wearing a blue uniform with silver-lined boots and an expensive headset. A silver X was stitched onto his chest.

“What do you mean?” Blaze asked, fear creeping into his voice. While he had never met a Team X member before, he had certainly seen enough pictures to recognize one. “I don't have any Pokemon. You're wrong.”

“Yeah right, you've got the mark: that red band. We know you've got Pokemon. Now hand them over.” The man stepped forward and held out his left hand, his other hand reaching to his belt.

Blaze's eyes flicked up to the headband above his eyes, and he silently swore to himself. With the way things were going, he knew he might as well keep lying. “This is just a headband. It's not a mark. I bought it.”

The Team X member grinned at his companion behind Blaze. “Then why do I have two identical ones?” He pulled two red headbands from his pocket, each exactly matching the one on Blaze's head, right down to the white pokeball logo. “This is our mark kid, I think I'd recognize it. Now for the last time, hand over your Pokemon.”

Blaze gritted his teeth as he weighed his options. On the one hand, he could try lying some more and hope he could stall until someone came to help. But since Navy had been the one to give him the band in the first place, he doubted he could expect help from him or any other government agents. Something fishy was going on with Navy. But the Team X men outnumbered him two to one, so there was no way he could physically defeat them.

“Go, Pikachu!” Blaze shouted, tossing his pokeball in front of him. If he was going to escape, he'd definitely need help from his Pokemon. “Use thunderbolt on that man!” he cried, pointing at the man with the red motorcycle.

Pikachu crouched down on all four legs and charged up a quick bolt of electricity in his cheeks. The attack was sure to give Blaze enough time to escape. But before Pikachu could release the attack, a flash of red light blasted from behind Blaze, and a black ball flew high in the air. When the light faded, Pikachu was gone, and the black ball landed softly in the gloved palm of the rear Team X member.

“What the-!” Blaze shouted in confusion, swiveling to face his opponent. “What did you-”

The Team X member cracked up laughing and then took off running down the alley, holding the black pokeball triumphantly over his head.

“An electric type, the boss'll be happy,” the other member chuckled, while returning to his red bike.

“Get back here!” Blaze shrieked, charging after the man with his Pikachu. There was no way Blaze was going to lose his closest friend. “Give me my Pikachu!” he cried, diving forward and swiping his arm to grab at the man. But the swipe missed, and Blaze tumbled violently to the ground, without so much as touching Pikachu's captor.

The uniformed man grinned wider and quickly swung his leg over the side of his motorcycle, immediately starting the engine. Just as Blaze crawled to his feet, the vehicle roared to life, and the bike spun a bit on the loose gravel of the street before shooting off, leaving Blaze standing alone in a cloud of dust dirt, and smoke. The black ball containing Pikachu still sat in the Team X member's hand.

Edited August 5, 2010 by Ragnell

[Ragnell]

Hey, I'm not dead. I apologize that this chapter has taken so ridiculously long to write. I really have no excuse except the hecticness of graduation and my own persistent laziness. I've actually had most of this written for over a month, but I just had a couple touch ups to make and one last part to write. So yeah, enjoy. Hopefully I won't take as long on the next part.

Chapter 4: Facade

To: Agent 1

From: Agent 2

Subj: Stun Pistols

Commander Barnes,

The new stun pistols have arrived at Site D. I have reviewed the test results, and the manufacturers have indeed lowered the fatality rate to less than 5%, thankfully. They tell me that the most important change was the use of Butterfree stun spores instead of Vileplume stun spores, which have less risk of entering the body and causing a lethal reaction. The length of the spore-induced paralysis has also been extended, with some models causing up to twenty minutes of human paralysis and nearly an hour of Pokemon paralysis. The guns should be shipped to Sites A-E within days. They will be distributed immediately, and I've assigned Captain Right to collect all the older model pistols. I believe it would be wisest if we kept the old pistols in storage, in case of future need.

Commander Smith

Blaze stood unmoving in the street, his eyes gazing blankly forward in the direction of the cloud of dust left by the motorcycle. His mind was racing, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to grasp what had just happened. It was like he was hovering above the situation, watching the events from his perch. None of it was real; it was all some crazy movie that would end any minute. He would get up, throw away his empty popcorn bucket, and get back to real life. Again and again he tried to tell himself that it wasn't true, that nothing had happened. He was hallucinating, that was it! Or dreaming! He always did have funny dreams when he was sleeping away from home.

But no matter how hard he tried to think otherwise, the words continued to pop up in his head: Pikachu was gone.

It didn't make sense, though. It couldn't make sense. He had never been separated from Pikachu in the eight years since they had met. He couldn't even remember a time when he wasn't with Pikachu. And now his eyes were trying to tell him that Pikachu was gone. Even the thought of it made his cheeks flush red with anger and made his head spin. His eyes still remained locked on the road before him. Frozen on the spot where, not moments ago, the Team X grunt had held aloft a captured Pikachu.

Then, a new thought entered Blaze's mind: he wanted Pikachu back. Not just wanted, though, needed. He needed Pikachu back. The boy's mouth slid into a twisted grin, as he tried to clear his mind and focus on the present. If he was going to get Pikachu back, he couldn't be caught unprepared, and he especially couldn't let his emotions take over. Blaze took a deep breath and wiped away a single tear from his eye.

“Hey, are you all right?” a voice called from across the street to Blaze.

Blaze abruptly pulled himself from his thoughts and turned to find a middle-aged man approaching him.

“Are you okay?” the man repeated, looking curiously at Blaze's reddened, yet determined eyes. Several older people were standing in the street, looking downtown curiously, wondering what was happening.

“Yes, I'm fine,” Blaze answered shakily. The rattled boy turned on the spot and started back towards the center of town without another word to the man. He had other things to worry about. There had to be some sort of clue as to what was going on with Team X, he thought to himself. Some sort of idea of where they might be taking Pikachu. What had happened to him with the red band was definitely no coincidence. Suddenly, as he reached the curb of the street, it hit Blaze.

He turned quickly back to the man and asked, “Do you- have you ever heard of an Elite Pokemon Catcher before?”

The man, who had turned the other direction, spun about in confusion and slowly answered, “Elite Catcher? Er, I don't really-no-I can't say that I have. But I-”

“Didn't think so,” Blaze growled, turning away again. “Neither have I.”

It was so obvious now! Navy was a fake. The fact that he didn't arrest Blaze, the fact that Blaze had never heard of an Elite Catcher, and most of all the fact that he gave Blaze that band; how could Blaze have missed it? If there was one person who knew what was going on in New Phenac, it was Navy. He was the one behind all of this. And Blaze knew just where to find him.

******

“...As of today, a government-commissioned team has officially launched their meteorological expedition popularly known as the 'Thunderchasers.' This of course comes after the highly publicized Johto Regional Science Team's failure at the same task and disbandment no less than two months ago. Several of the Johto team's members have been recruited by the Orre team, along with several of this region's tops meteorologists. It is the new group's hope that within the next three to four months they will be able to discover the reason for the recent sharp decline in lightning activity during thunderstorms worldwide. Head scientist Albert Gruten commented 'This so-called phenomenon likely has a very simple scientific origin. It's our duty to get into these storms and find the reason why they aren't producing the static charge needed for lightning.' We look forward to seeing just what Gruten and his team can discover. In other news, a young woman in Pyrite...”

Jade was lazily sprawled across the worn couch in the break room, barely paying attention to the TV blaring on the table across the room. It had only been about an hour since she had left Site F without Blaze, but she could already feel the boredom of being stuck in a base alone setting in... again.

Well, perhaps 'alone' wasn't the right term. There were at least twenty other people in the base at that moment, and she knew all of their code names, and several of their real names. However there was not one member there that she really cared to talk to, and there were at least five that she really cared not to talk to, Aran being one.

Aran's constant, persistent, arrogance around Blaze was amusing, she had to admit, but it grew extremely irritating when Blaze wasn't there to overreact to it. In fact, it quite often got grating even when Blaze was there to take the bait. Still, Aran wasn't the most annoying person in the base, not by a long shot.

“Jade, you don't have a rookie in tow right now, do you?” asked a cool voice from the door next to the couch. Captain Johnson stood slouching against the wooden door frame, his hands shoved in the pockets of his black athletic pants.

Speaking of annoying people, Jade thought angrily to herself, Johnson was definitely the worst of the worst. If his head was any larger, he'd need a neck brace to hold it up straight.

She sighed and answered him truthfully, “No. I haven't had one since Rich.”

“Good,” Johnson said with a grin. From behind him, he beckoned forward a young blond boy wearing kahki shorts, a red t-shirt, and a green vest. “This is Kitrino. He's almost seventeen years old and he's joining as Agent 327. I'm assigning you as his mentor. Introduce yourself, show him around, tell him the rules. I'll find you a mission so you can lead him through one of those.”

So the Red Army was accepting sixteen-year-olds now? That was news to Jade. Sixteen seemed a little... young. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position as Johnson moseyed his way away down the hallway. The boy, Kitrio, or... whatever his name was, remained awkwardly on the threshold of the room, staring at the TV, though it was obvious he was just too frightened to look Jade in the eyes.

“So, I'm Jade. What was your name again?” Jade asked, quickly putting an end to what she knew would be a long and unnerving silence.

“I-I'm Kitrino.”

She couldn't help but snicker. “Really, you join the Red Army and of all the names you could have picked to use, you picked Kitrino? Did you want to piss people off?”

“No, I just, Kitrino is in a different language; it means-” the boy looked very flustered by her question.

“Never mind,” she interrupted hastily, seeing the conversation going downhill fast, “I didn't mean to get you all riled up. I just like to joke around a bit. Thing is, we're going to be working together for awhile. I'll show you around the base, get you used to our routine here, and take you out on a mission or two, k' Rookie?”

“Okay?”

The rookie still seemed a bit nervous. Jade sighed; it was obviously going to be hard to get this kid out of his shell.

“So, what Pokemon do you have?” she asked to begin.

The boy pulled out two red pokeballs. “I've got my Charmeleon, and the Captain gave me this Skarmory to use.”

“A rental Skarmory, eh?” Jade tried to remember which agent had previously used the Skarmory. She was pretty sure Captain Right had been keeping the enormous steel bird Pokemon for the past few weeks, but not even in her wildest dreams could she imagine that old fossil ever actually flying on it. In fact, she had a hard time picturing Captain Right ever doing anything other than sitting and giving orders. But the Skarmory had been in storage for a while, so she couldn't quite recall who had been using it previously, or who had recaptured it.

The boy stared at her expectantly, hoping that she would say something else.

Jade rubbed her temple. It seemed she'd have to ask him a direct question every time she actually wanted him to talk. “All right, Rookie, let's see your Charmeleon. I only ever got the chance to see a couple of those back in my trainer days.”

The boy seemed to perk up at her comment. “You... you've seen a Charmeleon before? They're... pretty rare...”

Jade smiled, happy to see the little bit of social progress she was making with the kid. “Yeah, well I used to train in an Orre Pokemon gym, so I saw a lot of Pokemon battles.” Quickly seeing the curious look on the boy's face, she added, “I'd like to tell you which gym I was in, but it's confidential. You know, Red Army code names and all. Anyway, let's see your Charmeleon.”

The boy smiled slyly and tossed his Pokeball in the air. Jade couldn't help but feel a bit confused by his grin. But as the ball burst open, she realized why he was smiling. In a flash of light a yellow, bipedal lizard as tall as Jade's waist appeared on the ground between the two agents. Jade almost jumped in surprise.

“It's... yellow!” She looked in shock at the Rookie's smiling face. “Aren't Charmeleon supposed to be... red?”

“Yeah, but he's a Shiny Charmeleon!” the Rookie said with pride. “Some rare Pokemon can be different colors than the rest of their species.”

Jade rolled her eyes, “Oh, I knew that, but-”

“Jade!” a familiar voice interrupted.

Jade spun around to find Aran sprinting into the room.

“What, Aran?” she asked in a noticeably irritated tone. It stunk; she was finally striking up a conversation with the rookie, and then Aran had to interrupt.

“Captain found you a mission! Get it while it's hot, this one looks good.” No sooner had he said the message, then Aran turned and dashed back out of the room.

Jade rolled her eyes and gestured for the rookie to follow her into the hall after Aran. If only Aran was that enthusiastic when there wasn't a rookie around to set an example for...

******

The center of town was was a wreck when Blaze arrived. A shop on the corner seemed to be the focus of the damage, with glass from the building's ceiling-high front window scattered across the asphalt at their feet. Blaze glanced up and registered that the sign above the shop read “Adam's Auto Shop.” There was a picture of a desert motorcycle below it, so Blaze assumed the place was a bike shop. He recalled that Navy had said that Team X was stealing something, so he figured they must have stolen the motorcycles he saw them riding when they took Pikachu.

There was a small crowd of confused people standing awkwardly around several police officers in front of the store. The officers seemed to be receiving a telling-off from a rather angry plump gentleman, though they looked just as disgruntled as the majority of the crowd. Blaze walked past the people to get a look at the damaged shop. Inside the shattered window, it looked like all the bikes were gone. All except one, that is. A single desert motorcycle sat in the middle of the showroom floor.

Blaze turned back around and scanned the square. Nowhere in sight was any sign of Navy or Team X. He let out a sigh and passed by the crowd again, trying to think of his next move. He had really been hoping that Navy would still be here. However, it was obvious that whatever had happened here was done with. And the police didn't look they quite had a grasp of the situation yet, so they would be no help.

“Hey, you there, kid!”

Blaze spun around as he heard a man yelling. To his surprise, the man seemed to be yelling at him. It looked like it was the chubby man that had been yelling at the police.

“Yeah, you! Hey, what's your name?”

Blaze stood stunned. “It's, uh, well I'm-”

“Are you David Jones?”

Blaze shuddered. The man knew his real name. That was the second time in one day that someone had addressed him by that name.

“Who are you? Why do you want to know?” Blaze demanded, irritated that his cover had been blown yet again.

“I own this shop” the man replied, “I was told to give a message to David Jones.”

Blaze nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, I'm... him.” He looked around to make sure that no one else was listening. “Let me hear it.”

“A fella' stopped by here a few minutes ago and told me to tell you to drive out of the city through the east exit into the desert. He said keep driving in a straight line until you see a worn-down building twenty miles out. Then wait for him.”

A run-down building in the desert? “What did this guy look like?” Blaze asked. He imagined that it could have been any of the Red Army members if they needed his help, but he was pretty sure that the Red Army didn't have any base like that. It must be something less official.

“It was a skinny guy about your height,” the man answered, scratching his double chin as he thought. “He was wearing a big ol' coat and his hair was all spiky-like.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah...” the man answered, confused by Blaze's response.

Blaze couldn't believe it. Navy had left him a message. Why on earth would he do that? What was he planning? Did he honestly think Blaze hadn't figured out his deception yet? And how on earth did he expect Blaze to get twenty miles into the desert? He had seen that Blaze was on foot.

The man in front of Blaze reached into his pocket and held out a key to Blaze. “He also told me to give you this.”

“A key? What?”

The man stepped back and gestured to bike shop. “The one still in there is yours. It's the last I've got out front right now.”

“Wha- how much is it?” Blaze asked.

“That guy before already paid, it's yours,” the man answered.

Blaze examined the keys in his hand and then nodded to the man. “Thank you.”

“Just get it out of here soon,” the shop owner said quickly. He turned away, and Blaze could hear him mutter under his breath, “Might as well get rid of all of them.”

Blaze tossed the key in his hand and walked back across the square to the shop. Careful to avoid the glass on the ground, he stepped into the building through the shattered window and tiptoed over to the lone bike. It was a beautiful machine, that was for sure. The impressive engine took up the front two thirds of the frame, with the handlebars, seat, and lone wheel making up the back third.

Blaze climbed onto the seat of the bike, and reached down to feel the soft cushion of the seat underneath him. He had never owned a bike this new or this comfortable before. Most of his past bikes were old pieces of junk that he'd fixed up and upgraded with new parts. This bike was obviously top-of-the-line, and must have been very expensive. Blaze inserted the key into the ignition below the handlebars and turned it, hearing the bike roar to life. A strong, steady jet of air blasted out from the bottom of the engine, lifting the wheel-less front of the bike off the ground.

Apparently several people outside the shop also heard the noise, as several heads turned his way. Blaze spun the bike around and slowly lined up with a large closed door in the back of the shop. He lifted his leg over the seat and hopped to the ground to open the door.

“Hey, you! Get away from that thing! Get out of there,” one of the policemen shouted. “This is a crime scene!”

Blaze felt all the color drain from his face. He couldn't wait around here for the police to finish their obviously fruitless examination. He needed to go immediately to meet up with Navy. And if the police checked his records, they'd find that he was a Red Army member. Then he'd be done for sure. They might even recognize him, like Navy did. It was his bike, it wasn't like he was stealing it.

Without waiting to debate with himself, Blaze hopped back on the bike and spun it around to face the shattered window and the approaching police. The glass on the ground certainly made his plan risky, with the shards threatening to pop his new tires, but it really was his only option. Blaze hit the gas pedal as hard as he could and the engine in front of him let out a blast of hot air. The bike lunged forward, and Blaze could hear the jet of air on the bottom of the bike shut off as the forward momentum lifted the front of the bike up. Both policemen jumped out of the way as Blaze whizzed through the open window, hit the frame of the windowsill, launched into the air, and then slammed onto the pavement outside. Still accelerating steadily, Blaze turned sharply and shot down the street away from the building, pavement spitting up behind him. He looked back and waved to the awestruck police.

“Sorry, I have an appointment!”

******

Pikachu sat quietly in its cage as it was lowered into a large room. The barred cage around it seemed to collapse as it made contact with the floor of the room. The metallic arm lowering it down immediately moved back up and out of a tiny hole in the ceiling of the room, leaving Pikachu in the dark.

However Pikachu was not alone. All around it in the room, Pikachu could smell other Pokemon, and even through the dim lighting it could make out the figure of several nearby creatures. There were small Pokemon, big Pokemon, sweet-smelling Pokemon, and Pikachu thought it could smell a Pokemon in the back of the room that had rolled in something... less than sanitary.

But none of that mattered. Pikachu knew that the other Pokemon would not help or harm it. Its beady black eyes remained unwavering on the single exit to the room, a raisable glass wall for viewing the caged Pokemon from the adjacent room. On the other side of the glass, two men sat on a wooden bench talking together. Both were wearing blue uniforms and had large guns sitting on the bench beside them. Through the glass, Pikachu could just make out what the two were saying.

“Another electric type, eh?” the first one said lazily.

“Yeah, too bad that only makes, what, a hundred?” the second one complained.

“Thanks for reminding me,” the first one growled, lowering his head into his hands. “If only we could get some damn lightning.”

“Just our bloody luck isn't it?” the second man muttered. “No one ever liked lightning before. Suddenly, whaddya know, lightning's rarer than gold. And of course now we need lightning. If we needed water, how much you wanna bet all the oceans'd dry up?”

“Yeah.” Both men sighed and sat in silence for a second. “Better let the Executive know we got another one, though,” the first man grumbled, in a voice so quiet Pikachu almost couldn't hear it. The man pulled out a blue hand-held computer and began to type quickly on the holographic display.

After a few seconds of the man typing, there was a loud bang as the door to the room swung open, a third man sliding casually inside. The two men jumped to attention as the third man approached them, his shady eyes glancing from side to side. The man was short and rather pudgy, and his wild, mangy brown hair seemed to point in every direction except down. He was wearing a white uniform, unlike the blue of the other men.

“Commander Solari!” Pikachu could hear the first man shout.

“Burr, Vane, I stopped by to inform you that you will not be reporting to the Executive on our latest capture. He's far to busy to be bothered with every bit of menial data we come up with. From now on, you'll pass that information directly to your commanding officer.”

“But... that's... you,” the man holding the computer answered slowly.

“Of course,” Solari said with what Pikachu assumed was supposed to be some sort of grin, but what actually looked more like a particularly obnoxious show of distaste.

“Sir,” the first man continued, “the Executive ordered us to notify him whenever a new electric Pokemon was caught.”

“And I'm ordering you otherwise. I've... discussed this with the Executive already.”

“Sorry sir,” the man agreed, still with a noticeable air of caution.

“Good. Now I'll take that handcom,” Solari ordered. “Your shift is over early, the replacements will be here soon.”

Pikachu reached up with its left hind foot and scratched its ear as the man passed the handcom computer over to Solari and exited the room along with his partner, both men looking questioningly at each other. Solari stood silently in the room for a moment, staring at whatever was on the handcom screen. Shaking his head, he turned and glared at Pikachu with his pinpoint green eyes. With a swift swing of his arm, he smashed the computer in half on the wooden bench. He scowled one last time in the direction of the handcom pieces and then left the room in a huff.

Pikachu's ear twitched as it strained to hear into the hallway, but the glass wall and the door beyond masked all outside sounds. As Pikachu's focus slowly returned to the room around it, it detected the soft sound of Pokemon snoring all across the room. Maybe sleeping wasn't such a bad idea, it decided. The yellow mouse turned slowly in a circle and curled into a ball on the floor. It knew it was okay to take a nap.

It wasn't time yet.

Edited June 23, 2011 by Ragnell