“The only reason they haven’t already is because they’re building up forces in case any trainers rebelled against them. That’s why they’ve taken to capturing Legendary Pokémon. If Team Rocket managed to create forces led by members with Legendaries, it’d be all over,” he explained matter-of-factly, as though Team Rocket being on the verge of world conquest was normal, everyday conversation.
“Then, what do we do about that?” I asked, confused as to why he was telling me this.
“I’ve been giving these out to a lot of people,” he said, handing me a small card. “It pretty much explains everything. If you become a trainer, but don’t really want to go around battling in Pokémon Gyms, then let me know.”
“But how—?” I began.
“The card explains everything,” he said again. “But don’t tell anyone else about it.”
He pulled out a red and white sphere and pushed a button on it, causing it to enlarge and open. In an instant, a flash of white light burst forth from inside it and began to take the form of a huge dragon, upright and majestic. Its skin was rough, yet a shiny flaming orange color, and it had huge, powerful blue wings with its main characteristic being the flame that burned brightly at the tip of its tail. It was a Charizard, the fully mature form of Charmander.
He replaced the Poké Ball and climbed up onto the dragon’s back. It flexed its wings and outstretched them, flapping against the air and sending rushes of wind into my face. I held my hair against my head and watched as the reptile ascended into the sky.
“I’ll see ya,” the trainer said, soaring out of sight.
“Uh, later,” I said more to myself than him, wondering how and why I’d see him later. I looked at the small card he had given me and read.
If you have received this card, it is because you have either been recognized as either a beginning trainer with the potential for skill, or are an ambitious young trainer willing to face danger for the sake of wiping out Team Rocket. If you are serious about joining a rebellion against the Rockets, then meet in Vermilion City prior to the following date for further instruction. The cruise ship, S.S. Anne is leaving for the headquarters’ location on December 7.
Talk about anonymity. Still, it made sense, just in case Team Rocket got a hold of one of the cards. But was he really just giving them out to random trainers? Why was he doing this?
I turned back to the battle that was still continuing. It was obvious what the outcome would be, and yet I still wanted to help Entei in some way despite the fact that there was nothing that I could do. I sighed and continued to watch.
It was then that they noticed me. I was standing only about a hundred yards from the Rockets and Entei. The driver of the first jeep said something to the second, which turned abruptly and began speeding up the hill toward me.
My eyes widened. “Crap…don’t tell me they…” They were coming for me…I had to run, but for some reason it was like my legs were frozen. It wasn’t until they were halfway up the hill that I finally got myself turn around and was able to take off running towards Viridian.
I sprinted though the woods, my heart pounding and my lungs aching, but the sudden burst of fear kept me running onward. I glanced over my shoulder—too slow, they were gaining on me. I had to reach my bike—nothing was more important than that. If I managed to, then I could make it to town before they caught me and then lose them on the side streets. Was it too far away?
I wasn’t going to make it in time. No, I had to, I had to!
The jeep sped past me and skidded to a stop in front of me. I tried to turn and run in the other direction, but the driver threw open the door and grabbed me by the back of my shirt. I felt Swift release his hold on my shoulder as the Rocket flung open the back door and threw me in the back of the jeep.
“Hey, what the—?!” I yelled.
“Shut the hell up if you want to live. We’re not supposed to have any witnesses, but you might get off the hook if you just keep quiet,” the driver muttered, climbing back into the front seat and driving off. He was older than most of the others and judging by a number of badges pinned to his vest, more experienced as well. Glancing up over the seat, I could see he was a tall, burly man with thick black hair and dark eyes surrounded by a stern and commanding face.
Outside, Swift dove forward and flapped his wings quickly to fly alongside the jeep, calling out to me. He then soared in low circles above us, not seeming to want to leave. One of the Rockets pulled out a small handgun and began shooting at Swift before the driver stopped him.
“Leave it,” he said. “It’s just a Pidgey. Doesn’t matter if it belongs to a captive.”
I quickly turned to look out the back window and saw Swift flying high up in the sky. When he seemed sure that the Rockets weren’t paying attention to him, he swooped low again and waved his wing at me. I could’ve sworn I saw him wink once before taking off to the north, toward my neighborhood.
I only just noticed that I was still holding the wounded Charmander. It was still unconscious, but also still alive. We were nearing the main streets of Viridian and I considered yelling for help, but all of the windows were up now, and each of the Rockets was armed.
There was nothing I could possibly do. My life was in the Rockets’ hands.
We continued heading east until we were once again away from the city. Finally, the jeep skidded to a halt in a small area that was mostly cleared of trees. I couldn’t see anything from the back window, and the Rockets in the front seats were blocking my view in front of the car. The driver got out and slammed the door.
I leaned forward to see out the back seat window and watched as he leaned over and lifted up a small hatch in the grass. Underneath were a keypad and a small screen. He pushed in a long and complicated password and closed the hatch.
“Identification confirmed. Proceed,” a computerized voice stated. The ground started to sink, revealing a sort of ramp that descended into darkness. He walked back and got into the car again before driving down. As we neared the end of the tunnel, the entrance behind us closed and I could see lights far ahead in the distance. We emerged into a large, dimly lit, immense underground hangar. The driver parked the jeep in an area to the side after skidding to a halt. The Rockets got out of the car and the driver opened the back hatch, grabbing my wrist and jerking me out. I held onto the Charmander lightly with my right arm. “Remember what I said. Just shut up and don’t do anything stupid,” he said, leading me toward what looked like an office door. He left me outside the door and walked inside.
It was at that time that I really thought about my position. I didn’t want to think about what a Team Rocket prison would be like, but would if the Rockets decided it was better to just kill me and get it over with? I leaned my ear against the door and tried to hear snatches of their conversation.
“So? How did it all go?” someone asked. His voice sounded younger than my captor’s, though from his dominating tone of voice and the way the other acted slightly submissive, I assumed that he was higher ranking.
“I left the rest of the squad behind to deal with an…unwanted witness…” the driver said.
“How much did they see?”
“Enough for her to know about our plans to capture the Legendary Pokémon.”
“You idiot!” the other Rocket yelled. “Did you even consider the fact that she may not have really known anything about our mission at all?! Sure, she reports some poaching of a Legendary Pokémon, big deal. No one would have any idea that it was us. But now she sure as hell knows too much. Honestly, Tyson, I don’t even know why I—”
“Should I just kill her?” he interrupted. My heart skipped a beat when he said that.
“No…” the other sighed. I could hear the rustling of papers. “Just—”
At once, I heard the beeping of what sounded like a cell phone. Tyson answered it and, after listening for a few seconds, said something quietly and turned it off.
“Well?” the other Rocket asked impatiently.
“Shortly after I left, it seemed to the others that Entei was going to escape into the Tohjo Mountains, so they called for backup from any nearby Johto agents. Turns out, some kid was the one who threw the ball that caught Entei, only now he doesn’t really want to give it up and he’s waiting for instruction from the Supreme Commander of the Johto Force,” Tyson reported.
“The fool…Giovanni’s word isn’t enough for him?” he muttered with scorn.
“Well, even though Giovanni’s the boss, he really doesn’t have much rule over what the Johto Force does…”
“Yes, I know…and just stick the girl on the transport jet. Let the Executives at the secondary headquarters deal with what to do with her.”
I breathed a sigh of relief after hearing that, but then heard footsteps coming toward the door. I jumped back and pretended as though I hadn’t been doing anything. Tyson opened the door and again took hold of my wrist and led me to another area. I followed without struggle, knowing that rebelling would only get me shot.
“Okay, I know you heard what we said in there, so you know what’s going on, and you better not cause any problems,” he threatened menacingly.
I was then that I noticed the large, gray airplane that was in the opposite corner of the hangar. Several mechanics seemed to be making sure everything was in order, and other Rockets were loading supplies into the cargo hold. Tyson also escorted me to the cargo bay. Large boxes filled the area and more crates were being loaded in. I was thrown into a small, metal room along the side, and the door was left open. A few minutes later, another Rocket came over, jerked my backpack from me, and looked through it before shoving it back into my arms. After checking all my pockets and deciding I had no weapons or Poké Balls on me, he pulled the Charmander from my arms and chained my hands and feet to the wall.
“What about the kid’s Charmander?” the Rocket called out to someone outside of the room.
“Just leave it, the thing’s near death anyway,” Tyson yelled back. “I don’t need to deal with some random dead Pokémon.”
The Rocket set the Charmander on the floor and shoved it towards me before closing the door.
“What should we do about the other kids?” he asked.
Other kids? I wasn’t aware that others had been kidnapped as well and Tyson didn’t seem to know what the Rocket meant either. “What other kids?” he questioned.
“Another prisoner we’ve had for a while and some other kid we caught snooping around the entrance a minute ago.”
“There’s only one cell, just lock ‘em in a supply closet or something…” Tyson said, his voice growing distant. Several minutes later, I heard the thunk of a heavy door being closed and the steadily growing roar of engines. I could feel the speed increase and was slanted backward as the plane maneuvered uphill. I guessed that the plane was heading up the long ramp that I came in by, and I could feel when the wheels left the ground.
The time alone in the cell inevitably led to my thoughts straying toward what was going to happen to me. It was always the sort of thing that you assumed would happen to somebody else. My mind kept telling me that I was going to be killed, and no matter how many times I shoved the thought out of my head, it kept coming back.
I had to do something. I didn’t plan on having my fate in the hands of some Executive Rocket. With a quick glance around the cell, I spotted a small coil of wire sticking out of a mechanism in the corner. I figured that I could manage to pick the lock if I could just reach it, but it was too far away.
“Chaaaa…” a small, high voice moaned.
I looked down and saw the Charmander at my feet finally regaining consciousness. It swayed a little before eventually standing to its feet.
“Hey, how’re ya feeling?” I asked it.
It turned suddenly toward me in shock. The lizard whimpered slightly and glanced around nervously, as though wondering how it had gotten there.
“I guess this must be pretty surprising, and I don’t know if you can walk yet, but could you try to hand me that coil of wire over there?” I asked although it occurred to me that while tame Pokémon could learn the language their trainer spoke in an incredibly short amount of time, the wild Charmander had probably never heard English in its life.
I was puzzling over how to the repeat the instructions in Pokéspeech, but then it went over, pulled up the thin loop of metal out of the machine, and placed it into my hand. I grasped a part near the end in my fingers, bent it over to make it thicker, and stuck the wire into the keyhole on a shackle.
I really had no idea what I was doing, but after ten minutes I finally managed to free my right arm. After that, I was able to reach the other shackles easier and had figured out the trick to unlocking them. Finally, I shook the last chain off my left foot, picked up the Charmander and my backpack, and unlocked the door into the cargo bay.
I looked around in the midst of all the boxes and crates. The Rockets had said it was a transport jet, but for what? I opened the nearest and looked inside to find a large array of Technical Machines intended for teaching powerful techniques to Pokémon. I closed the crate and glanced through some others. Finally, I found one with first-aid items for Pokémon. I picked up the first thing I could find and read the label. “Full Restore: Guaranteed to soothe burns, frostbite, poison, rashes, cause open wounds to scab and heal any other damage done from battle to your Pokémon or—”
“Yeah, yeah, or your money back,” I finished in my head while spraying the liquid all over the Charmander’s skin. The lizard winced slightly, but soon enough, the charred flesh slowly regained its normal color, leaving only bits of scar tissue in some areas on its back. I was impressed with how well it worked, but still dug through the box. Charmander may have been healed, but it was still exhausted and completely drained of power.
Finally, I found something to fix that: an energy serum. I knew that they could make even an unconscious Pokémon awake and full of power. It had absolutely no healing power whatsoever, which was why it was good that I had already taken care of that. There was a famous battle in which a terribly wounded Pokémon was given an energy serum and sprung to its feet, fighting again, even though it was bleeding all over. It ended up dying, and the use of energy serums was banned in all Pokémon League battles.
I twisted the cap off and poured a small amount into Charmander’s mouth. Almost in an instant, the tiny flare on its tail burst into full flame. It looked up at me, eyes bright blue and attentive before looking down at itself in confusion, as though wondering how it was back to normal.
Since it seemed to understand English for whatever reason, I kneeled and said, “You doing better?” It nodded.
“Okay, Charmander, I know you don’t—” I stopped. I was sick of calling it “Charmander” although I knew most Pokémon didn’t mind being called their species name. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“*Firestorm,*” it replied.
I nodded, although I couldn’t help but snicker slightly in my mind. Most Pokémon came up with nicknames for themselves that were composed of combining several fitting words, but Firestorm sounded like it was made up by some kid trying to sound cool.
“Okay, and, uh, are you a guy or a girl?” I asked.
“*I’m male,*” he said before running over to the other side of the cargo bay and pointing.
I walked over and saw several Pokémon that had been sedated and put in cages. A laminated piece of paper was taped heavily to the top of each cage. I chose the nearest and read.
Experimental Pokémon #009
Pikachu that was implanted with tiny amounts of Zapdos DNA as an embryo. Experiment failure. Increase in power levels, possession of unique abilities, and rebellious disposition as possible results. Discovered side effects include inability to expel power for prolonged amounts of time and unstable chemical makeup.
I looked inside the cage, where the Pikachu was unconscious. Its back rose lightly with each breath and its short, stiff yellow fur quivered slightly. It was small and mouse-like but still seemed larger than normal. Its ears were long with black tips, and its tail was rigid and shaped like a jagged lightning bolt. One look at its face, and you could easily tell that it was a hybrid; it lacked the red cheeks of Pikachu, and its fur was long and pointed on the back of its head, like the feathers of the legendary bird Zapdos.
“*Do you think we could free them?*” Firestorm asked.
“Well, you don’t need my consent,” I said, shrugging. Right then, Firestorm began shooting the flame out of his tail into a narrow stream like a blowtorch and melted the locks. For several minutes he worked, prying the molten metal away with his tiny claws and opening each cage one by one. He was melting the last lock when the Pikachu woke up. It shakily stood to its feet, blinked, and looked around. The second it noticed the cage was open, it bolted out of its prison, streaking up to the highest point it could reach and sending surges of electricity flying around. Lightning flew wild as it streaked out of the Pikachu’s body.
“No, don’t!” I yelled.
It turned to me and sent sparks flying in my direction, its eyes filled with hate. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a door opening and turned.
“Wha—what the hell?!” Tyson yelled, walking into the cargo area.
“Uhh, hey…” I said awkwardly.
He looked from the Pikachu to me and finally to the other freed Pokémon, which were still under the effects of the sedation. He then pulled out a small black sphere—some sort of modified Poké ball. The flash of light from within it took the form of a huge green praying mantis with an exoskeleton that was hard and plated like armor. Its blank, pupil-less eyes flared with mindless hatred from a somewhat reptilian green head. It flashed its impressive scythe-lined arms, seemingly cutting the very air.
“We kept all the successful experiments for ourselves. This one happens to be my personal favorite,” Tyson said proudly. “Razors, attack!!!”
At once, it lifted from the ground, zooming toward us with lightning speed, the urge to kill blazing in its eyes.
Sooo...chapter 1. I bet by now you're thinking the plot is pretty staightforward, eh? A rogue Rocket gathering kids to keep Legendaries from being captured...pretty simple, right? *Infinitely evil grin.* I think all my long-time readers will vouch for me when I say that the complexity of the Team Rocket plotline increses tenfold in later chapters.
Whee, okay...all comments, error hunting results, and constructive critisism is greatly appreciated. *Walks off mumbling to self "...Fic of the week with just the frickin' prologue? It's not even the good part yet until chapter six..."*
~Chibi~