Thread: [Pokémon] Crossing the Line
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Old February 28th, 2013 (8:59 AM).
Iqid Loopz Iqid Loopz is offline
Hail HYDRA! Long live the SITH! Team LANNISTER!
Join Date: Aug 2009
Location: Pride Rock
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Posts: 358
Chapter 13 - Escape Goat

"Do you have someone out there that would like to see you again? someone who cares and wouldn't want to see you hurt?" Axis Supreme Commander Omega chuckled cruelly, his hologram staring down the gravely injured Zoroark from atop the spider-like computer.

Zoroark was still chained to a chair and in immense pain. It felt as though his rib cage had broken, although it was hard to tell with the blood streaming from his right temple, accompanied by an agonizing throbbing. His muscles felt stiff and he was shaking violently as he stared at the hologram. Dozens of thin needles, all piercing major nerves, connected to a computer beside him.

"It would be so very unfortunate if something horrible were to happen to you," Omega continued on, a thoughtful tone to his voice as he appeared to brainstorm, "Like, oh I don't know, a knife to your throat, or perhaps death by suffocation."

Zoroark's response was some violent coughing and gargling, followed by spitting on the metal hologram projector in a show of resistance towards his enemies.

"Right, spitting on a hologram is going to have an effect," An unimpressed Omega huffed, before looking over at Azumarill and pointing with his head, "Do it."

The next thing Zoroark felt was a fast and hard punch to his left cheek. It almost threw him off the seat, but somehow he managed to find his balance and stay upright, all the while breathing heavily and struggling to resist the pain. Mr. Mime inspected the computer beside him, apparently the only one capable of reading all the data littering the screen, and shook his head and sighed.

"I'm going to be honest and get straight to the point; we were supposed to 'inception' the information out of you," Mr. Mime explained, "But it's not working, your brain is on the defence and resisting against the pain and agony."

"So, Plan B?" Blaziken offered as she entered through the steel door, two clone troops on either side of her.

"Plan B. As in my Trojans beat it out of you," Omega sneered at Zoroark, "Chances are you'll resist with flying colors once more, but it's still worth a try. Worst case, my Trojans have a little fun."

Zoroark remained silent, staring down at the ground and breathing heavily. He was determined not to crack, not even when Azumaril taunted him to look at him.

"I said look at me!" Azumarill demanded, slapping Zoroark upside the head and pulling his hair back as he twisted his head around to look behind them. "Behind you is your team, trapped in rock and obsidian, and the only way to get them out is the formula Trojan Blaziken is holding. Failure to answer our following questions will result in the slow and painful torture of your team. Maybe even death if we go far enough."

The moment Azumarill let him go Zoroark attempted to unbind his shackles and escape, only to fail miserably. "I can't transform," He growled out.

Mr Mime laughed cruelly; "No sh*t Einstein, I used Disable on all of you, all of your moves."

"Just you wait till we get out of here!" Ditto was still trapped in the strange material, but conscious (enough to be tossing out threats even), as were Machamp, Bibarel, and Sceptile.

Azumarill wasn't at all happy to see this and barked out an order at one of the grunts that had followed Blaziken in; "You! Punish any of them if they talk!"

Obediently, the grunt approached Ditto, grinning as he struck the top of Ditto's skull; "Shut up!" He stepped back, wincing in pain from the impact his brass knuckles and Ditto's head had caused, while Ditto growled and spat blood on the grunt's black, hard leather boots.

"Oh man, you're lucky I'm chained up! I would f*ck you up!"

"You're just like a child!" The grunt yelled, kicking Ditto in the face repeatedly, "You never have any idea when to quit!"

He continued to wail on the shape-shifter for a short while, before finishing up with another strike to the head with the brass knuckles. Despite the serious damage to his face however, Ditto simply continued to laugh and taunt the grunt, once more spitting on his boots in a show of defiance.

"That's all you got? Huh sugar tits?"

"Dude, just shut up." Machamp tried to intervene, whispering to Ditto.

He was unheard by his intended target due to the overwhelming sounds of violence, but somehow the grunt the managed to catch it. He turned his attention to Machamp, that same grin across his face as he swung a right hook and connected with Machamp's diamond-hard face, nearly shattering his own fist in the process. After a moment of muttering and shaking his hand in an attempt to endure the pain, the grunt turned his frustration back on Machamp, aiming a mighty kick at his jaw. It too connected, but once again it was the grunt that ended up in searing pain.

"Hah! B*tch." The two Team Loyal members snickered, watching the grunt hop around in pain, clutching his injured foot. "I thought you Axis Clone Troops were meant to be best quality," Ditto mocked, "But look at you, all broken bones and shattered limbs. Pathetic."

Further ticked off, the grunt returned to Ditto, intending on throwing another punch, but stopping inches away. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Machamp warned with a toothy smile, gesturing toward the grunt's injuries, "You harm him, I'm going to keep speaking up, and you're going to have no choice but to attempt to hurt me. Which went so well last time."

Apparently agreeing, the grunt retreated, turning his attention on Sceptile instead. "Rest in pieces Cloner," Ditto mocked, pretending to cry his eyes out.

"He'll break you way beyond repair, without even breaking a sweat," Machamp warned, staring down the grunt.

"I'm waiting..." Sceptile added.

The grunt seemed to be having some kind of crisis, completely unsure of what to do and extremely frustrated. Eventually he shook his head and limped over to Bibarel, waiting for whatever input the Argos would have this time. Instead, the three of them began to relax.

"Have fun Cloner."

"Bibarel here is like a pillow, all soft and squishy, and he doesn't hurt you back."

The grunt didn't need to hear anymore, and ignoring the weirdly laughing and sobbing Ditto, he began beating on Bibarel. Bibarel wasn't impressed.

"Why me!?" He cried out, "You guys are *ssholes!"

The rest of the room shifted their attention back to Zoroark, ignoring the beating going on behind him.

"Pathetic," Omega sighed, eyeing the badly injured prisoner.

"Where's the rest of my team?" Zoroark demanded, growling.

Dusclops giggled, clapping his hands together and jumping in joy at the question, "Well, we couldn't actually find their corpses, but they're most likely dead."

Zoroark coughed up some more blood; "What do you want from me?" He managed to get out.

"The location of the Cosmo Baton," Azumarill replied, "Also known as the Galaxy Rod."

Zoroark shook his head and rolled his eyes, claiming to have no idea what they were talking about and causing Mr. Mime to elaborate. "It is gold in color and made of pure energy. It is capable of transforming into any hand-held item. Swords, shields, even spears."

"A weapon..." Zoroark muttered.

"You catch on fast, Captain!" Azumarill replied, poking his captive in the chest twice. "But it doesn't have to be a weapon. It could be used as a stick for commanding or pointing things out if you really wanted to, or a shovel to toss all the Alliance sh*t in a trash can. Or, what it's most useful for; teleportation and transportation."

Omega nodded, explaining, "I am particularly interested in the item's ability to teleport anyone or anything. There is a planet, the Alliance know it as Planet X, but I prefer to call it the Sweet Spot."

At Zoroark's puzzled expression, Omega continued on. "For the past four thousand years, the planet has been completely avoided by everyone, and deemed a deadly hazard. It's not due to an inability to support life, but rather due to the life it does support; the Turuk'Tai, a savage warrior race of Men-size-Orcs. Violent, ferocious, and most importantly, blood-thirsty; they know only how to kill and do so without questions or remorse."

"They were once ruled by a corrupted Elf-witch named Krag-Ma-Gath. It was his kind that created the powerful rod for him in the first place, but they were deceived. He attached his soul to the rod, bringing a great darkness to the galaxy, and also a great threat. I had intended on sending my forces to face him, but the Alliance gathered theirs first, thus beginning the Second War of the Alliance. Amazingly, Krag-Ma-Gath and a small portion of his army were defeated, leaving the Alliance victorious and in possession of the rod; but at a great cost."

Omega, seemingly finished explaining, turned to Azumarill. "You were an Argo back then, you fought in that war. How many were lost?"

"1,361,700 allied troops," Came the mumbled reply, "Only 3,604 returned to their families. I remember those numbers exactly, that war is cemented into my memory. My whole team, and thousands of allied troops, were all killed under my command with no plan or remorse. I was discharged because of that."

Omega's robotic spider stepped in front of Zoroark, moving so they were eye-to-eye. "You see Captain, I want to harness that power. I want to rule, become Emperor of this entire galaxy! But to do that, I need that power, that army. I would attack the Elves, Dwarves, Minotaur, Satyr if I could, just to get my hands on that rod. However, I don't have the resources or man-power to do so, so I'm starting with the weakest races, Men and Pokemon. You. Where is it?"

The robotic spider had paced the room, Omega's eyes focused on Zoroark all throughout the speech, even as he grew less and less composed.

"I wouldn't tell you, even if I did know," Zoroark replied, causing Omega to huff in frustration.

"Alright," The Supreme Commander replied, now reverting back to his usual calm and smooth demeanor, "Since you now know my grand scheme, you have two choices; join me, or die with your team. I think you can guess my recommendation, considering it involves you still living and all."

The robot began to shut down, settling onto the ground in front of Zoroark, who simply spat more blood at it, a smirk on his face.

"You will join me Captain," Omega growled threateningly, before tossing an order at Azumarill and shutting down the hologram; "Bring me this one, kill the rest!"

"Yes my Lord," Azumarill mumbled, smiling at Zoroark as he drew his sword and placed it against the prisoner's neck. "I'm just going to say you tried to fight and my blade accidentally hit you."

He smirked, getting ready to swing, only to be interrupted by a loud banging sound coming from the metal door. It echoed throughout the room, followed by a female voice yelling out from the other side.


"...What the hell?" Mumbled a rather confused grunt, earning himself a demand for silence from Azumarill.

The loud banging echoed out a second time, again followed by the mysterious women's voice.


A third, and much louder banging roared throughout the room, followed by six large fists leaving dents in the steel door, ruining its flat surface. A grunt approached the door, apparently ready to open it.


This time the voice sounded irritated, almost furious. The grunt threw open the door, intending on giving the unwanted visitor a mouthful. He stopped, staring at the two odd figures in the doorway. Both were wearing white-robed, with hoods blocking their heads on the sides, but while one was unusually large, the second was of average height and carrying a bow.


The voice was high-pitched and female sounding, and caused the grunt to look downwards, spotting a third figure. This one was no bigger than three feet tall and was wearing a brown robe. And giggling.

"We heard you needed room service!" The girl stated, smiling innocently as she waved.

That changed in an instant however, replaced with a more serious expression as a kunai swung out of her long sleeve and stabbed the grunt in the stomach. She dragged the blade up into his throat and then swung her backside toward the grunt, revealing from the hood of the robe a long black jaw with razor sharp teeth. The grunt's head was quickly consumed, bringing him down immediately.

The tiny figure then slammed a white ball of some sorts at the door entrance, engulfing it in smoke and hiding her from sight.

Next…Chapter 14 – At Full Strength, but Divided.
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