Despite the darkness of the night, lights from the Galactic HQ building meant they couldn’t go near without being spotted, a fact to which, annoyingly, Pranav wouldn’t stop complaining about.
“It’s been nearly a week, and I’ve yet to see a single person go in or go out.” He groaned
“Hm.” Arun replied, settling into the alleyway the two had commandeered.
“Ok that’s not true, I see them walking around sometimes, they go in, but they don't go out. It’s like they live there.”
“Mhm.”
“I mean I get it, right? Who’d go home with a uniform like that, I’d be embarrassed to leave too.”
“Yup.”
“And the blue hair…do they all get their hair dyed like that? Or is it just wigs, you think?”
“Hm.”
“...I think I’m going to dye my hair blue, wouldn’t I look great?”
“You’d be the prettiest princess.”
Pranav scowled, and sat down on the opposite side of the alley, “Well at least you’re listening.” he grumbled
“You think I’d ignore my baby brother’s constant whining?" Arun grinned, "Just what type of monster do you take me for?”
Pranav scowled further, and he couldn’t help but chuckle, before gazing at the building they had been staking out. Standing over 4 stories tall it loomed over as a harsh contrast in the city’s otherwise cozy vibe. It still brought him no end to confusion as to why they chose to purposely add spikes to the side, it was as if they were advertising they were the bad guys. It did make him feel better about what they planned to do within, though.
“You’re sure this is the best plan for us?” Arun asked after a while
“Absolutely.” His brother replied, “I know you weren’t too busy flirting with Joy to notice, she never brought up anything regarding our ID’s.”
“Ok hold on, it wasn’t flirting,” He started, but then sighed when Pranav gave him a look, “All right yea, maybe a little. And yea I noticed.”
“I read up on it, Sinnoh has a Refugee act, boils down to ‘anyone asking for safe passage and a proper citizenship are welcome so long as they can’t be traced back as criminals’. The problem however, is that most non-trainers have to wait maybe 2-3 years before seeing anything close to a citizenship. Trainers though, there are posts online about some trainers waiting a couple days, and the longest being a week. Society here values Trainers, I mean we can see how it’s built around them.”
“So here we are,” His brother continued, “two fuckheads with nothing but the clothes on their backs, clothes that don’t even belong to them, might I add. Not only that, but the whole ‘League circuit’ which I’m pretty sure is where the actual story in the game is, doesn’t start until next year. So if we’re waiting three years, there’s going to be a year where we’ll be left on the road 'cause trainers get priority.”
“Besides,” Pranav said, after a beat of silence. “I didn’t get isekai’d to a Pokémon world to be fucking broke and homeless.”
“Amen to that.” Arun nodded in agreement
“We’re going to live like Kings, Arun, and it starts with that.” He said, pointing to the two figures exiting the building.
The two shared a look, and with a nod, disappeared into the alleys.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Swear to Arceus if Harold touches my food I’m going to kick his ass.” Quinn grumbled
Leland, his partner, a taller man in his mid twenties, laughed, saying “Your own fault for making that absolutely mouthwatering steak.”
Quinn simply harrumphed and kept walking, his fingers brushing across the tiny pokeballs fastened at his belt. It was a last minute job, a spy from another faction. They were to go over and “peacefully” resolve the issue, as one last gesture of goodwill from Galactic HQ to Team Chronos. Not that it would matter, the whole of the underworld was going to war, with both Professor Rowan and Cynthia away from the region, all sides realized it was the opportune time to make their moves.
Chronos people were old folk, holding roots in ancient Sinnoh since ages long past. They clung to old titles, calling their leaders “Lords” and whatnot, it amused Quinn to no end, pretenders trying to relive the past. Not that he’d ever voice his opinion in their turf, but this was Veilstone city, Galactic’s home base, they wouldn’t be touched here.
“It’s always here, isn’t it?” Leland sighed, staring at their destination
The street was alive with the lights of clubs and casinos, people lined the streets of various buildings, groups of night goers, already drunk, stumbled past him laughing at some inside joke or another. The two passed a group of women, one of them winking at him while her friend attempted to sober up. He nodded in return, his face kept impassive.
“You’re not going to say hi?” His partner asked, nudging him.
“We have a job to do.” Quinn replied simply.
“A shame, she was pretty too, out of your league that’s for sure.”
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Leland.”
His friend laughed, and Quinn cracked a tiny smile. Maybe if he weren’t on the clock he’d have gone up to talk to her, but he took pride in being a professional, and wouldn’t ruin Galactic’s pristine image if he couldn’t help it. He did walk with a tad bit more confidence though, it was always nice to receive some good attention.
His professional image was somewhat interrupted when a drunk bumped past him. He mumbled a “sorry” before moving on, so Quinn decided to let it slide. Unovan? He thought, as the man in question disappeared among the crowd. They didn’t really get a lot of tourists this time of year, but then again it was Veilstone, so it made sense. They were shorter than he thought they’d be, the man was built though, probably worked construction or some other labour job.
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He refocused his thoughts as they arrived at their destination. The Dragon’s Hoard was a casino comparatively larger than most of its brethren, built when the district was first turning into what it was today. Blue and red neon lights lit up the space, accompanied by a large animated Garchomp pulling coins closer to its chest obnoxiously at the head of the entrance.
A series of protests rose as Quinn and Leland pushed through the front, and he couldn’t help but crack a tiny smirk as the bouncer gave him a slight nod, leaving them free to enter the building. Inside was loud, the bass pumping heavily enough that he could feel his body automatically pulse with the rhythm of the beat. What would usually be a large open space was crowded with people, and Quinn had to struggle a bit to push past the crowd. Betting tables, Poker games, Slot machines and Voltorb Flip games were scattered around the floor. There were stairs that led up to the more high stakes games, but tonight, thankfully, he’d stay down below. Those that played high stakes were usually arrogant fellows, and didn’t take kindly to being told what to do by Galactic members, even if it was official.
Grabbing a couple drinks from a passing waitress, Leland handed him one of the cocktails, sipping his with a smile on his face. Quinn raised an eyebrow, but indulged anyway, scanning the room for their mark. He spotted him easily enough, an older man, maybe in his later 40’s, dressed in a simple coat and baggy trousers. He nudged Leland, pointing him out, and with a smile Leland disappeared into the crowd. It was quite impressive to Quinn how his partner did that, usually they stuck out like sore thumbs with their hair and uniform, but unless you took the time to scope him out, he was just another body in the crowd.
Quinn strode forward, his hands wrapping over his pokeballs for comfort. They shook a little, and he had to force the smile that automatically found his face back down. It wouldn’t do to show emotion right now, lest it be taken for weakness.
Their quarry was currently nursing some drink, whispering in the ear of some woman who feigned interest in whatever he was saying. He was spotted, of course, he made sure he was, striding forward with purpose and clear intent. The man’s face hardened upon seeing him, and shooed the woman away, causing her to scowl irritably up at him, probably for ruining an easy mark.
“Mr.Finchley.” Quinn said diplomatically.
“We got a problem, friend?” Finchley drawled, hands resting on the table.
“Only a little rat sneaking around where he shouldn’t be.” he replied, his own hands pressing down on the opposite side of the table.
Finchley’s eyes narrowed at him “And what does Galactic want with a man like me?”
“Are we really going to play this game? You know who we are, and we know who you are.”
“No games here aside from the ones on the table, young man.”
“Eustice Finchley.” Quinn began “44 years old, part of Clan Finchley currently serving Team Chronos. From what I understand your uncle is the reason Chronos decided to label you all a “Clan” in the first place. The rest of you...undesirables riding his coattails.”
“Watch your tone, boy.” Finchley hissed, and Quinn knew had hit a sore spot.”My Pokémon could flatten this whole establishment if I wanted them to.”
“Maybe.” The grunt allowed himself a little smile, “It’s a good thing you don’t have them on you.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Come on, this is Galactic territory. You think we don't know our establishments? Nobody here is carrying.” He tapped his belt, where his pokeballs hung “Except for me.”
He continued, despite the scowl growing on his quarry’s face. “This is gonna happen one of two ways, Finchley. You follow me outside and we handle this, or you get your ass spored and I drag you outside, unconscious.”
Finchley slowly nodded, standing up. Just as Quinn relaxed though, he darted forward, violently shoving past him and several surprised guests, running towards the back. Quinn cursed and followed suit, weaving through the crowd despite the various shouts of protest and curses flung at him.
Finchley, despite his older looks, moved with surprising agility, eventually reaching the kitchen, and after shoving through waiters and chefs, the back door. Unfortunately for him, he ran straight into Lelands Beautifly, which hit him with a Stun Spore point blank, causing Finchley to fall paralyzed to the floor, cursing incoherently.
Quinn arrived seconds later, a thin smile as he nodded at Leland, who grinned in return. Kicking Finchley onto his back, he crouched down over him, staring into his eyes with a cold smile.
“This is a warning Finchley, we’re letting you go as one last gesture of goodwill between our group and yours.” He got up, stomping down hard on his side, causing Finchley to groan “Next time though,” he said as he pressed down harder “Next time, you’ll be dead before you even set foot on our streets.”
Twenty minutes later, when Finchley had been thoroughly stomped, the two walked through the alleyways, away from the city proper.
“Man, we're good.” Leland whistled, his Beautifly now tucked away in its pokeball.
Walking past a drunkard who stumbled into the wall behind them, Quinn spoke quietly “Tonight is just the start. It’s starting soon, you know it is. Team Chronos is starting to push, we need to be strong enough to handle whatever comes our way.”
“Yea I hear ya, but we’re team Galactic, our dream is as infinite as the sta-umph”
“Wha-urk”
Quinn didn’t know what hit him, but he was dazed on the ground, instinctively, he reached for his pokeballs, only to find his belt had been violently ripped away from him, clattering off to the side. Something heavy slammed into his stomach, and he wheezed, curling up and clutching his midsection. Hands roughly grabbed him, and tossed him on the wall, where he landed atop loose garbage bags.
“Sorry buddy.” A bassy voice said “had to make sure you wouldn’t throw any Pokémon our way, y’know?”
“Who…who the fuck are you?” Quin gasped. Did Finchley have friends? Impossible, intelligence would have told them so.
“Ah ah,” Another voice said, this one lighter, and carrying a bit of swagger, “We’re asking the questions here.”
He stared at his attackers, wondering just who would assault Galactic members like this. He was short, but Quinn could see the thick muscled underneath his shirt. A simple tee was wrapped around his face, obscuring his mouth and nose, but the dark skin was visible. His companion was taller, skin just a shade lighter, and a lot skinnier.
“Passed you by a couple times, actually.” The man said, his knee pushing into his stomach just a tad bit harder “A bit heart-broken you don’t remember.”
The Unovan? It clicked. The ‘drunk’ that had passed by him as they went to the Hoard…the ‘drunk’ in the alley…Arceus how long had they been tailed for?
“What do you want?” He hissed
“Just your Uniforms, and a bit of info.” The man replied casually. “How do you get into Galactic Headquarters?”
“What? Why do you need to know th-argh” He cried out, as a fist slammed into his kidney.
“I’m the one asking the questions, clear?”
“Hurt me all you want, you’re not getting shit.” Quinn growled
The man simply nodded to his partner, who held down Leland with a knee pressed into his back, arms locked behind him. Quinn watched in horror as Leland's face was raised and slammed into the pavement repeatedly, before having his arm twisted at a terrible angle.
“One more time, how do you get in?”
“Don’t tell them shit Quinn, don’t tell the-argh!” Leland screamed as his arm was bent further.
“Alright! Enough! I’ll talk,” His mind raced for something he could do, anything. “There’s a key card we each get. Back pocket of his, left boot for mine.”
It was a last minute plan, but if he could get the jump on him by landing a kick, maybe he could turn things around. Quinn desperately hoped he would reach for his boot, but to his dismay the man simply nodded, and continued.
“Where do you keep the stolen Pokémon?” He asked.
Quinn paled, how did he know that? That was top secret information! Even the league, for all its boastings about being in-the-know about everything, didn’t know a single thing about the stolen Pokémon. Just who were these people?
“Looks like you were the right guy to ask.” His assailant said, noticing the clear change in his demeanour.
“I can’t…I can’t tell you that.” Quinn’s eyes widened as Leland’s arm popped, his ensuing scream quickly cut off by having a hand clamped over his mouth.
“Please!” He shouted, “I’m serious, I can't tell you! That sort of information…if that sort of information got out, all of Galactic would be in jeopardy!”
“Yea, dunno if we care about the fate of Galactic too much.” The skinny one mused
“I’m sorry about this.” The thick one rumbled “But you either tell us, or we take the answers from you.”
“Maybe we take his pokemon instead?”
“NO!” Quinn tried to stand, but was forced back down. “No…please, they’re…they’re my friends.”
His assailant stared, before turning to his partner, the two sharing a silent conversation before he turned back to him.
“You…you treat your Pokémon well?”
“Of course I do! They…they were with me from the start, I raised them, and they raised me…so please.”
“Ok…ok,” He nodded his head slowly. “You tell us where to go, we leave your Pokémon with you, and your uniforms once we’re done. Nobody will know it was you who spilled, deal?”
“Bottom floor.” Quinn said, defeated “End of the hall there’s a huge storage unit, that’s where we keep them.”
“Happy days all around.” The skinny one said cheerily, “Wish us luck, friends.”
“Fuck you!” Leland spat “Do you even know who you’re messing with?”
“Sure do.” The skinny one inched closer to Leland’s face, causing the Grunt to subconsciously shuffle back. “Guess what? Don’t care.”
A fast hook landed across his jaw, and Leland slumped.
“This is gonna hurt, sorry.” The bassy one said.
Quinn didn’t say anything as the world turned black.