Kanto Wilderness VIII – Using Your Head
Slate stretched his arms, trying to work the kinks out of his spine despite the limited room on the cot. The Ranger Outpost on the outskirts of Saffron acted as a retreat for the Rangers, where they could rest and recuperate safely away from the busy city with their Pokémon. The proximity to the city allowed them to handle any threats but they were far enough away to not be considered within its borders.
He was on day two of being locked in a small room.
The Ranger Captain of this Outpost was a man by the name of Howie. Captain Howie was a no nonsense individual and had not been pleased when Holly and Slate had been debriefed, revealing they had both taken a life in the wilderness. While Ranger Holly was within the limits of her station, although just barely, he believed Slate to be an average Pokémon Trainer and thus, have no such authority.
Captain Howie hadn't even finished debriefing Slate before placing him under arrest, confiscating his Poké Balls and gear. As the Rangers led Slate away to be held pending trial, the Captain scanned Slate's Trainer ID, causing numerous alerts to pop up on his console. Before Slate was pulled out of the room, he was delighted to see anarchy set in as everyone began yelling at everyone and phones began to ring.
Slate wondered if this was the fastest a Ranger Outpost had ever been thrown into chaos. He had only been there for ten minutes after all.
Unfortunately, nothing happened since then. He was aware of shouting in the halls and rooms around him, even once approaching close to him, but no one entered his room. A slot on the wall opened up to deposit food and take away dishes and a toilet and sink sat in the corner handling any other needs. Slate was very bored.
Heavy footsteps marched down the hall. Slate's eyes tracked the small portion of light he could see under the door, watching the shadow move. It didn't halt its movements though and Slate was left alone in silence once more.
Slate began to think of this as a different kind of survival situation. What if he were a captive of some hostile force, and not lawfully detained. What would his moves be?
His eyes focused on the wall slot. It opened four times a day. Once to give Slate his morning meal and again half an hour later to take away the dishes. And again in the evening for his second meal. It wouldn't shut until every dish and utensil was in the wall slot, which meant somewhere in this room someone was watching Slate.
The corners were empty. There was a grate on the ceiling but it was heavily bolted down and Slate had nothing to take apart. Now focused on it though he could see a soft blinking light and Slate deduced this was the camera.
He turned his attention to the sink and toilet. The sink was part of the toilet and there were no exposed openings or rivets that he could find. It was a solid piece, bound securely to the wall internally somehow. Perhaps if Slate had something to force it away from the wall he could explore the piping but it would be noisy. It would alert his captors, if the camera didn't do it long before.
This left the bed. Slate shifted on it slightly. Tough, metal springs dug into his back through the thin blankets that were provided. The springs were welded onto the frame which was again bolted down. No way of breaking off a piece without attracting attention.
Slate kicked his bare feet in annoyance. They had even taken his boots and belt before he was placed in the room. A sensible precaution for captors but they left his hands free. Slate eyed the blankets again.
They were thin, probably easy to tear and cheap to replace. But if Slate were to twist them around one another he could make a bulky rope that would hopefully hold together. He grabbed them and began to do so, pacing around his small cell, twisting and untwisting them so eventually his captors would believe it was just a nervous action.
Because eventually the door would open. They would take him from here to somewhere else and that's when he would make his move. He would only have one chance to break free and then Slate would have seconds to act.
The rope would be used on whomever opened the door. Using them as a hostage, Slate would be able to use them as a shield as he searched for his Pokémon. And once he had his hands on his Pokémon they could burn their way out of this prison.
Slate paused in his pacing before continuing. Or perhaps it would be better to cause a distraction in another part of the prison. Draw attention there, sneak out elsewhere. It would allow him to learn more about his captors including anyone who was important. Find the most important person and use them, either through interrogation or elimination. It had possibilities.
But what if there were other prisoners? Did Slate leave them? It would depend on their status. Were they friendly or receptive to him? Did he know them? His response would vary depending on the answer. If he were particularly neutral or negative toward them Slate would use them to cause a distraction to allow himself time to escape.
Dishonorable? Without a doubt. But ask the dead the worth of honor and only silence will answer you. Slate was a survivor and he knew exactly what that meant: He would live at any cost.
To the point of sacrificing your Pokémon if it ensured your life? Slate's hands stilled on the blankets in his grasp. Not a chance in hell. Either they all get out or Slate got them out at the expense of his own life. Although knowing his Pokémon Slate wouldn't be surprised if they forced their way back to him, to die with him.
Suddenly footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. Slate found himself tensing, preparing to act, willing to do whatever it took to escape.
Calm yourself, Anomalous Survivor, a voice said in Slate's mind. He flinched. My Commander frees you.
The door opened and despite the voice's warning Slate still nearly lunged forward to strangle the Ranger guard with the blanket wound tightly in his hands. A moment later Slate was glad he didn't.
Captain Howie looked small compared to this second man but it wasn't due to any height difference. The newcomer was shorter even, but his bearing and intense eyes implied a greater will than anyone Slate had met in his life thus far. A long scar twisted its way down his face, disappearing beneath the man's collar. And then Slate realized what the man was wearing.
It was a military uniform but not one meant for parties or formal events. Sleek armored plates covered vital areas and small pieces of metal adorned it, commemorating events and operations that Slate had no knowledge of. The only piece of decoration he recognized was the blue and silver logo for the Pokémon League.
“You're free to go,” Captain Howie said through gritted teeth. He looked as though he had not slept the last two days. “Your gear and your Poké Balls are at the entrance. Goodbye.”
Captain Howie shot the unknown man a glare before vanishing down the hall with the silent Ranger. Slate stared at the unknown for a long moment before a flash of yellow behind him distracted Slate. A Hypno looked at him in clear amusement.
“Hello,” Slate said to the Hypno, ignoring the man deliberately. He didn't miss the man smirking. “Is your companion as sociable as you are?”
Hypno's eyes crinkled. The trick I've found is getting him to be silent. I wish you luck with that, it whispered in Slate's mind. The Hypno's mental voice was clearly male in a pleasant, wave upon a beach sort of way.
“What's the joke?” Slate asked the unknown in irritation. His smirk was annoying Slate and all he wanted at this point was a proper shower and meal.
The man grinned but held out a hand for Slate to shake. “No joke. It's one thing learning about you from reports and secondhand accounts. It's another to see you in action. I am Enforcer Commander Jasper.”
Slate reluctantly shook the man's hand and nearly flinched at the crushing grip. He had no doubt the older man could break his hand with ease. “See me in action?” he asked instead.
Enforcer Commander Jasper nodded. “Hypno has been a great help in that. I would recommend you get a Psychic-type Pokémon soon so you can enjoy the full benefits. He helped me see the memory of your recent Poacher encounter as well as getting a front row seat to your little thought exercise in the cell.”
Slate's eyes narrowed. “Stay out of my head.”
Jasper smirked. “Kick me out,” he said challengingly. Slate lunged forward, intent on punching him in the face.
The older man leaned back casually, reaching out a hand to grab Slate's arm when he was most exposed. Jasper twisted Slate's arm, forcing the young man painfully to his knees. “Hypno can see your moves before you make them and tell me what's about to happen as fast as thought. What are you going to do about it?”
Challenge. Slate rolled to his far side, pulling his arm free of Jasper's grasp and rolled to his feet. The man remained where he stood, smirking knowingly at Slate as the younger man lunged forward, striking wildly. But it was as Jasper said; the moment Slate made a decision Hypno saw it and informed its Trainer.
Slate backed off. He was trapped at the end of the hall with no way forward except through this aggravating man. Hypno stood behind Jasper and was able to stall any forward momentum by simple virtue of communicating with its Trainer. Slate needed to disrupt its ability to communicate.
“Interesting train of thought,” Jasper said. He was obviously still being fed information by Hypno. “Most people would focus on me as the threat they needed to overcome.”
Jasper was fed the answer by Hypno even as Slate said it, “you're the instrument blocking me. If Hypno wanted to stop me it wouldn't need to rely on a human. Which means this is a test.”
“So solve it,” Jasper challenged.
Hypno saw everything. It probably knew Slate's mind better than he did which meant he would have to do something that neither was expecting. So what would be the most unexpected thing right now? Attacking again.
Slate lunged forward with his arm forward, intent on landing a blow on Jasper's face. The man almost sighed as he leaned to the side, his arm already moving into position to catch Slate's again.
Which was why Slate tripped himself.
Jasper grabbed nothing but air as Slate fell forward to land harshly. But his fist's trajectory remained true, striking Jasper on the armored thigh, causing the man to stumble backward from the unsuspecting force. Slate lunged from his spot on the ground, tackling Jasper in the stomach, causing both men to fall to the ground. Slate clambered up, closing his fist, and swung it as hard as he could at Jasper's face.
Slate froze as Psychic-type energy flooded his body, paralyzing him, his fist mere centimeters from its target. Jasper looked at it with wide eyes before looking at his Hypno in surprise. “You didn't see that coming?”
I saw the attack form in his mind but it changed after he committed himself. He injured himself to strike a sure blow on an unassailable foe, Hypno's voice said in Slate's mind. He could only assume Hypno was also talking to his trainer.
Hypno was right. Slate's pants were torn and his knee bleeding from where he crashed into the floor. But as it was, Slate only felt rage at being denied striking Jasper in his smug face.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. Slate couldn't turn his head up to see who it was but when a familiar pair of brown shoes appeared his eyes would have widened had he the ability to control them.
“I told you not to test him without me present,” Professor Oak said. “Are you going to laze about all day, Jasper?”
Jasper gave a restrained chuckle. “He’s pinning me down here, get him to move.”
I WILL BREAK YOUR NOSE, Slate shouted in his own mind. Hypno flinched as it conveyed Slate's thoughts to everyone present.
“That won't be necessary, young man, even though Commander Jasper would deserve it. He's here for a reason that will be very beneficial to you,” Oak explained.
“Don't. Care.” Slate spat through paralyzed lips. That seemed to surprise both men for different reasons.
“Hypno, you sure you have a hold on the kid?” Jasper asked.
“Remarkable, you’re breaking through the Disable Hypno put on your body,” Oak murmured while rubbing his chin in thought. “I've only seen this in a handful of Trainers before, most only after extensive training with Psychic-types. I wonder if there is any correlation to the recessive…”
The Anomalous Survivor lives up to his name, Hypno said. Was Slate imagining it or did the Pokémon seem strained? Please do not gravely injure my Trainer, even if he deserves it.
“Wait!” Jasper cried but it was too late. Hypno released his hold on Slate's body.
Slate's fist smashed into Jasper's cheek, glancing off it to smash into the concrete floor below. Slate felt two of his fingers break before a rough hand grabbed him by the neck, pushing him back. A kick to his stomach happened a moment later, knocking the wind out of him and throwing him further away. Slate grasped his stomach painfully, gasping desperately for air, but mustered the energy to glare at the recovering Jasper.
“Hell of an attempt, kid,” Jasper said, rising to his feet. He prodded his face gingerly before wincing. “Wow, glad you missed my nose. All I have are my good looks.”
“What. Looks,” Slate spat as he gasped for air. Oak chuckled at Jasper's put upon face.
“Slate, this is my good friend Commander Jasper. He works with Pokémon League Enforcers as an intelligence officer,” Oak said with a grin.
“And besides invading my mental privacy, what does that mean?” Slate asked, rising to his feet. He examined his broken fingers carefully.
“Lots of things. Such as getting your murder charges lifted,” Jasper said with a grin.
Oak waved a dismissive hand. “Be honest with him, Jasper. Slate was well within his rights of self-defense as well as being active under the Conscription Act. He did nothing wrong.”
Jasper shot Oak a look. “He gutted that kid like one of my Enforcers. A lot of civilians are pissed.”
Slate didn't understand and Hypno projected that to its Trainer. Jasper turned toward Slate. “People don't like to be reminded that we live in a dangerous world, kid. They like to think it's all sunshine and rainbows and Skitty Snacks. Being reminded that it's all a facade the Pokémon League puts forward really doesn't make them feel comfortable and safe and that leads to civil unrest.”
Jasper sighed. “And that's the main part of my job. I'm busy with tracking cases that are potentially disastrous if something were to go wrong, not because it's world ending, but because it shatters the thin illusion we've managed to build up. Something like a Rookie Trainer killing another Trainer in his first year.”
Slate gave a half-hearted shrug. “Sorry?”
That earned him snorts from both men. “No you're not. But it does mean I have a mountain of paperwork to deal with every time one of your little adventures come across my desk. You'll have your own drawer in my file cabinet at this pace.”
“What's the other reason?” Slate asked.
“What do you mean?” Jasper asked neutrally.
“That you're here. I doubt I warrant the attention of an Enforcer Commander even with the life or death situations I've found myself in. So what's the other reason you're here?” Slate asked. He noted Oak turning his face away, grinning.
“Don't kid yourself, you aren't special,” Jasper said, frowning. Slate shrugged.
“All the more reason why it's weird you're here. So why are you here?”
Jasper looked at Slate for a long time and Slate belatedly realized the man was probably using his Hypno to rifle through Slate's thoughts. He tried to focus intently on how bad he smelled, causing the Pokémon to snort.
Commander Jasper suddenly smiled. “The Ranger talked, didn't she? Knew she wouldn't keep her mouth shut,” he said, shaking his head.
“Ranger Holly realized she had one chance with me to come clean about everything or else I'd never willingly talk to her again. She was smart enough to take that chance,” Slate said, stepping forward.
“Oh, and she told you everything I bet?” Jasper said, rolling his eyes while matching Slate's step.
“Yes.” Another step.
“Even that she was the one who misidentified you as a Pokémon for months?” Step.
“Yes.” Step.
“And that she told Blackthorn you were heading toward civilization?” Step.
“And everything that entailed.” Slate took one last step.
“And you're fine with that?” Jasper asked in contempt, stopping right in front of Slate.
“Hell no.”
Jasper had a brief moment of surprise at Slate's answer before Slate headbutted him right in the face, sending him to the ground. He lay there groaning as he held his bloody nose.
“I dislike clever people,” Slate said. “I like intelligent people. They're smart for the right reasons. But clever people try too hard to be mysterious.”
Slate backed away from Jasper in case he thought of attacking him. “Here's what I think. Holly told me someone in the Enforcers was interested in my case. Someone who was interested to see what happens with me as a Trainer. Then I'm put into a situation where life and death is on the line and I'm put into a position where I have to kill or be killed.”
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Slate glanced at Hypno who remained standing there passively. “I'm arrested, despite being protected by the basic laws of self-defense and the Conscription Act, kept isolated for two days, then released by a 'mysterious' man who immediately begins to test me the moment I exit the cell. But that's not true is it? The tests started far earlier than that.”
“So why didn't your Hypno stop me from striking you? It had plenty of time to read my thoughts, except could it? I've been focusing pretty strongly on how bad I smell after all. Could he see through that? Considering your bloody face, I don’t think so.”
“Well you were right, Samuel, he is a curious pain in the ass,” Jasper said. The hallway suddenly flickered around Slate, causing him to whirl about in surprise. It faded, revealing a room Slate definitely hadn't been in before with a metal table and three chairs at it. Professor Oak and Jasper were sitting calmly at the table, the latter's face unmarred by injury. “Take a seat kid, I've got an offer to make.”
Slate looked at Oak suspiciously. “What the hell is going on?” he asked, ignoring Jasper entirely.
Oak nodded to the chair across from him with his chin. “You're being extended an open job offer.”
“It's not open,” Jasper muttered. Oak silenced him with a side glance before placing Slate's Poké Balls and belt on the table in front of him. Slate eagerly reclaimed them, placing them back where they belonged. His boots sat by the open chair.
Slate threw himself into it and immediately began to lace them up. “You have until I finish tying my shoes.”
Jasper snorted and Hypno's eyes glowed. The shoelaces stubbornly refused to move no matter how Slate tugged on them.
“Talk,” Slate growled.
Jasper smirked. “Well you're right and wrong. I was testing you but I didn't start until after you got yourself arrested. Everything else was just bad luck or good luck depending on how you look at it. You did catch yourself a Bulbasaur.”
Oak cut in. “Yes, you and I will be talking about that colony you found later. So exciting.”
“Anyway,” Jasper reclaimed the conversation, “about ten minutes after you were placed in that cell I was already alerted of your arrest and Teleported in from Sinnoh. Samuel beat me here by five minutes due to your most recent capture and he was desperate to interrogate you in person.”
“Still do. Hurry up, Jasper.”
Jasper fixed Slate with an intense stare. “Hypno and I debriefed Ranger Holly before performing a non-invasive mental scan on yourself. Non-invasive in this case meaning only the events you were arrested for in question. After that we devised a battery of tests.”
The Adept Commander shrugged. “Some you passed, some you failed. That's all you need to know about that. What it does mean is that you're still a person of interest to us and we'd like to develop a closer working relationship with you. In short, at the conclusion of your first League Tournament, we'd like to have you attempt our Qualification Exam.”
“Please understand that while you have been found innocent of all charges of murder, there was talk about placing a suspension on your Trainer License for a period of five years due to concerns about your mental stability. As I've personally found no issue within your mind other than your well documented memory loss, I had that suspension waived under the agreement that you attempt our Qualification Exam to the best of your abilities within the next three years. This is not the job offer.”
Jasper leaned slightly back. “Based on your unique history, knowledge, and the personal vouching of parties interested in your case, the actual job we'd like to offer you will depend on where your specialization develops. As you said yourself, we also like intelligent people, not clever people. We need intelligent people to continue doing the good work to keep everything safe and sound.”
“Your preference for Pokémon Battling will also be taken into account. Should you place highly in the Pokémon League Tournament, you will find your prospective job offers wildly differentiating. And I can assure you the compensation is beyond adequate.”
Enforcer Commander Jasper suddenly stood, Hypno appearing by his side. He reached out a hand to Slate who shook it automatically without realizing it was his broken hand. To Slate's shock, no pain was felt, and he realized the broken fingers had been an illusion. Unlike in the illusion, Jasper's handshake was firm but not crushing.
“I wish you good luck young man. I'll be in touch occasionally. Samuel.” Jasper nodded to Oak before vanishing with his Hypno.
Silence filled the room as Oak allowed Slate a moment to gather his thoughts. But it didn't last.
“What are the Enforcers?” Slate asked when he saw Oak's mouth open. “And why are they really interested in me?”
Oak sighed before rising from the table. “Let's take a walk, these rooms are exceptionally bland.”
The pair left, walking through hallways that were slightly more familiar to Slate. The Ranger Outpost was devoid of personnel, almost troubling really. The only person they came across was Ranger Holly, sitting nervously by Slate's pack near the front door.
“Hey, Slate!” she shouted, racing over and patting him over. “Have all your fingers? The Enforcer didn't hurt you, did he?”
Slate gave her a baffled look. “What? No. Well, just in the illusion.”
Professor Oak coughed, drawing both of their attention. “Unfortunately you are not permitted to share that detail with anyone, Ranger Holly. Operational Security and all that,” he said.
Slate looked at the Professor in confusion while Holly nodded. She passed Slate his bag. “Of course, sir. Slate, I'll catch up to you eventually, I have a new mountain of paperwork to clear because of our latest adventure. Another Ranger will probably be assigned to watch over you in the meantime.”
“Alright. Take care, Holly,” Slate said. She smiled but stepped aside, letting the two men pass.
The trees around them were large but spread out. In the distance Slate could see the rise of buildings and he knew Saffron lurked in that direction. But he and Professor Oak walked away from it a little ways, toward where Oak's Alakazam was quietly meditating near some trees.
“Much better,” Professor Oak said, sitting a fair distance away from his Pokémon so their conversation wouldn't disturb its meditation. “For men and women who are supposed to protect our lands their interior decorating leaves much to be desired.”
Slate really had no opinion on that as he still considered running water a luxury. “My questions, Professor?”
Professor Oak sighed. “I'm sure Ranger Holly has given you a distorted view of the League Enforcers but I shall try to give you a slightly different biased version. It all began with the last war.
“As you might recall, all of the regions were at war with one another. The reasons are many and petty and not the point of this conversation. What does matter is that the Pokémon League, in its thirty-seventh year of operation, was facing issues of its own at the same time. Many Trainers had been caught abusing Rare Candies, which boost a Pokémon's physical abilities at the expense of its internal Pokéenergy, to try to rig battles in order to win bets. Several of my old friends were instrumental in breaking those rings up but the issue still persists to this day to the misfortunes of many Pokémon.
“There was also the issue of violence. Pokémon are naturally robust creatures, capable of withstanding a great deal of damage. However at the higher levels it isn't uncommon for serious injuries or even death to occur. This was during the rise of television broadcasts and the civilian populations of the world, who were previously ignorant, were given a front place seat to the real damage a highly trained Pokémon may do.
“Finally there was an issue of finances. It was costly and expensive to run these tournaments, even with corporate sponsorship. This had always been the Pokémon League's achilles heel, preventing them from pursuing many of their more ambitious plans.
“But back to the war. A privateer working for Sinnoh was an avid fan of Pokémon battles. He was no great Trainer himself, but he possessed a remarkable mind for seeing profit where others only saw waste. He grew his small slope to a fleet of thirty vessels over the first portion of the war, many of them captured personally with his crew. His name was Roberts.”
Oak laughed. “He also became something of a legend among sailors worldwide. They named him the Dread Pirate and whenever they saw his flag on the horizon they always prepared themselves to lose many valuables and lives.”
“During the war the rumor started that the Pokémon League would soon have to cease its operations due to the myriad of issues it faced. Roberts heard of this and was quite vocal in his belief that this should not be permitted. He took his fleet to his Region's leaders and begged them to allow him to assist the Pokémon League in stabilizing, to become a proper global unifying organization.
“He was refused.
“Bureaucrats and armchair generals dictated that it would be a waste of manpower. They didn't see the League as Roberts did, of the possibilities. They only saw it for what it was in the past and present. They ordered him to stop pestering them and to return to the warfront. And Roberts did, just not under their banner.
“The world was confusing during this time. Enemies became friends who became foes once more. Roberts had collected a crew from across many different regions, rescuing survivors from wrecks and freeing prisoners from all nations, regardless of their current political stance. While foreign officers spoke of his name with contempt, the rank and file knew that if they ever faced Roberts he'd give them a fair chance at life. He might even ask them to stay on as his crew if they were particularly capable at their chosen profession.
“With his fleet of thirty ships he contacted the Pokémon League Headquarters in Johto as this was where the current head resided. He presented himself, his ships, and their crews as their new fleet, much to their shock, and he told them that he'd solve their problems so long as they gave him the authority to do so.
“At the time, the Pokémon League had no other options. They had to trust Roberts wouldn't betray them and they quickly commissioned Roberts as Commodore of Fleets, at his request. They asked him why that title when they only had one fleet. He smiled and told them he'd be right back.
“A few Psychic-types have dedicated their lives to preserving the memory of the following three months so future generations may witness them. You should be able to request access to them at most Pokémon Centers, I'm sure you'll love it. Commodore Roberts, as he now called himself, commenced the largest and most ambitious naval campaign the world had ever seen: He pirated everybody.
“Any time Roberts came across a military convoy he'd take it. The supplies, the crew, the ships, everything! The officers who didn't bend to his will, he would leave behind in a single lifeboat, although as the war went on longer that number became smaller and smaller. After two months, instead of having to chase down potential targets, Roberts found himself welcoming them as they arrived on their own violation. It was remarkable how charismatic he was.
“Roberts controlled the seas almost the world over because of this. Military operations couldn't happen anymore as he forced it all to be locked on land. But those conflicts would create terrible disasters and casualties if left unchecked. Roberts, now secure with his fleets, began a new operation.
“He parked fleets around every region he could. Due to his actions he had thousands of trained soldiers and their Pokémon ready to put an end to the conflict. Do you think he swept across the land like a wave? Crashed upon their fortresses like an avalanche of Golems? He did neither.
“He sent in supplies. He helped heal injuries, rebuild roads, homes, and infrastructure. He directed his troops to tear down military installations, to use the material to rebuild the region they were supposed to be defending. Roberts didn't sweep across the land like a conqueror, he moved across it as a builder.
“It was impossible for the warring regions to deal with. How can you fight against someone who is trying to rebuild your home, the livelihood of your citizens? Thousands of soldiers defected to help rebuild their homes, to undo the damage to the landscape. Slate, Roberts did something that to this day still seems impossible; he enforced peace without ever having to wage a war.
“Oh, he had to fight many times. Assassins and rogue military elements were fond of trying to kill Roberts. But the people loved him. To this day you can find plaques on buildings bearing Robert's crest, a sun setting on the water, as they were all built by him or under his direction.
“The war didn't end overnight but it ended much sooner than anyone thought possible. The issue was the last holdout of every region were the Plateaus, where the Champions and the Elite Four of each region reside. All of them were strong and capable of holding out indefinitely against Robert's forces due to their own internal protections and supplies.
“Roberts had many of the best Trainers from the regions under his banner. He issued an ultimatum to the various Plateaus; Surrender and be given a fair trial or stay forever locked up in tombs of their own making.
“The world was at peace for five years while the Plateaus held out. Kanto and Johto only stayed so for a week and a half before I managed to convince my fellow Elite Four members to overthrow the reigning champion, my Predecessor, Julian. Julian would not surrender, forcing me to face him while other Elites faced Julian's Loyalists. Much blood was shed but eventually we succeeded.
“Roberts received us warmly enough. Several of his soldiers specialized in Psychic-types and helped confirm our stances on the war and why we overthrew Julian. He congratulated us, told us Kanto was still within our control, and immediately focused his attention on other Regions, shocking us all.
“I had prepared myself to be arrested and thrown in prison after all. Giovanni still sometimes mocks me for the time I almost had him shot for treason, but I just point out that he agreed to help me at the time, so obviously it was the right choice. Still...
“The other Regions followed suit over time. The last holdout was Sinnoh who tried to break Robert's Blockade often. But eventually they conceded defeat and opened their doors, surrendering to the man they once called a fool.
“You see, Slate. While the Elites were locked up in their Plateaus, Roberts was busy using his forces to do everything they could to make the world a safer place. He used his fleet to perform search and rescue, exploration missions, and even perform exploratory research in the ocean. He used their material as collateral for loans to rebuild businesses and to fund programs that are still in place to this day. Roberts single handedly built the Pokémon League into what we know it as today and there isn't a single person who doesn't benefit from it.
“It's why I reigned so short as a Champion. Many of my supporters thought I could and should lead Kanto to prosperity for decades but I resigned to pursue research. I found my place within the Pokémon League because Roberts personally vouched for me, which helped me reach the position I hold today. Arguably, I hold more power now as a Pokémon Professor than I ever did as a Champion.
“But this is all a long and roundabout way of telling you what the Enforcers are. They follow in the footsteps of their founding fleet. They know no borders, no allegiances, save to the Pokémon League. They perform search and rescue in the deep seas between regions, fund research, advance technology, and above all, ensure that the regions of the world cooperate with one another, instead of trying to dominate one another. Some say a large sword hangs over the world and that the Pokémon League holds the hilt, but it's needed. It's why we've achieved so much in so little time.”
Slate was distantly aware the sun was setting through the trees. He had listened to Professor Oak for far longer than he realized. But Oak still had not answered Slate's question.
“So why do they want me?” he asked again. Oak looked at him, an almost pitying look in his eye.
“It's still a military organization, my boy. An unattached orphan with Challenger Level Trainer experience would be a prize to them any day of the week. Add in your Healing Certification, your misadventure on Mt. Silver, and your willingness to kill? My boy, I don't believe you realize how rare you are in this world.”
And then Oak smiled. “But perhaps you'll hear the siren's call of research. You’re an intelligent young man and I would love to witness your work. I wouldn't be surprised if one day you surpassed me, should you apply yourself that is.”
Slate flopped onto his back. “You can ask about the Bulbasaur Grove,” he said with a weary sigh. He settled in as comfortably as he could.
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Long after the sun had set Professor Oak finally released Slate from his questions. The good professor had not been pleased when Slate revealed how aggressively anti-human the Grass-types had been as well as the feeling Slate received about them wishing to be left alone. Professor Oak reluctantly agreed but Slate could see how the man desperately wished to comb the wilderness searching for them.
According to the Pokémon Professor, the Pokémon League was always on the lookout for the so-called Regional Starters. They were exceptionally powerful Pokémon and ones most new Trainers could bond with easily. While Breeders maintained a respectable number for distribution each year, there were very few known locations where the Pokémon gathered naturally. These locations offered a unique, non-human influenced, glimpse into the social life of the Pokémon.
While Professor Oak waxed poetic about the security measures the Pokémon League could deploy in order to preserve them, Slate remained skeptical. The Pokémon had protected themselves long before humans had known of their existence and they would continue doing so. Obscurity was a far better defense than being known.
Slate stared at the lights of Saffron City in the distance. It would be so easy to walk there, to check into a Pokémon Center and to take a shower. He even briefly toyed with the idea of calling Maggie, to check in on her but if Slate was being honest with himself, he felt wrung out. He wanted solitude and his guardian needed to rest.
So he turned south of Saffron and hiked through the dark forest. It wasn't wise to wander like this in the dark, regardless of the nearby Ranger Outpost, but Slate wanted to find a suitable place to set up a long term campsite. He was going to continue his journey on his terms and that meant training with his Pokémon.
Eventually he found a small river and began to follow it. Eyes followed him in the dark but Slate wasn't bothered by them. He had no interest in disturbing them and they were too comfortable in their hiding spots to bother him.
After an hour of walking Slate found a clearing near the river. Saffron's city lights had long since faded from view and Slate found himself relaxing among the trees. He quickly made a camp and went to sleep.
Dawn woke Slate but he found himself tensing. Someone was close and was watching him. Slowly he turned, pushing his blanket to the side. A small furry face was sitting in the entrance of his shelter, staring at him. It was a Growlithe.
It barked at him once before rushing away. Slate looked at in confusion but a recent memory came to mind: Of a Growlithe running away from him in similar manner. And then Slate realized it was the same Growlithe he had saved back at the Poacher’s Camp.
Shaking his head with an amused smile, Slate released his Pokémon. They all greeted him warmly in their own way and Slate was pleased to see they were all healed and raring to go. He quickly had them gather around.
“We're going to stay here for a little while to prepare ourselves for the next few Gyms and to prepare for more situations like we had with the Poachers,” Slate told his Pokémon. He was pleased to see they were all paying attention to him.
“We’re still going to continue our experiments with your Pokéenergy, to see what other Potential Moves you might unlock. But our main focus for the foreseeable future is getting a feel for how we fight. Together, individually, and with me alongside you,” Slate said with a grin.
Slate’s Pokémon made various sounds of agreement, causing him to smile. He then braced himself. “With Bulbasaur’s addition to our group, we have an opportunity that many Trainers hesitate to take advantage of. While I intend to participate as well, this opportunity will be strictly voluntary: Bulbasaur is going to poison us each morning with Sludge Bomb.”
Flaaffy and Vulpix were the most vocal of the protesting Pokémon but in truth none of them were pleased with Slate’s decision. He held up his hands until they settled down, allowing him to speak once more.
“I don’t like it either but we saw what happened in the Poacher camp. Holly’s Pokémon carpeted their camp in Sleeping Powder and had bad luck not struck we could have taken them all in without issue. But you can build a resistance up to those attacks. Not enough to stop them fully but enough that we aren’t doomed the moment we’re caught in them.”
Slate could see his words convincing his Pokémon although Vulpix and Chansey looked far too grumpy still. “I’m going to do it alongside you guys. Between me and Chansey, and the case of Antidotes I have, we’ll be fine. Miserable for a while but fine.”
Vulpix and Chansey grumbled but also seemed more open to the project. Slate smiled, clapping his hands to draw his Pokémon’s attention once more. “We’re also going to heavily focus on expanding everyone’s Core Moves. Rest, Swift, Protect, Detect, Endure, and Substitute are all must haves and we’re going to take the time to develop them. They’re too useful not to learn.”
The Pokémon gave Slate a much more promising reaction, with several of them growing quite rowdy. Slate let them have their moment before quieting them down.
“Finally, we’re going to continue our nightly sparring with two additions. The first is that Vulpix will be hitting both fighters randomly with a Confuse Ray. We have to learn how to recognize the effect and how to overcome it. Too many Trainers, especially Psychic-type Trainers, utilize it for us to allow such a glaring weakness to exist. Vulpix, we’re going to have to find another Pokémon to help teach you.”
“Secondly, Machop and I will also be sparring each night.”
Silence. Machop was staring at Slate as if she had never seen anyone quite like him and was trying to figure out if he was crazy. He gave her a reassuring smile but had to move to the side as Flaaffy strode up to him in fury.
Slate rolled his eyes even as Flaaffy bleated at him with barely concealed fury in his eyes. “Yes, yes. You and I will also spar. This is mainly because while in Cerulean, during my Healer Certification, I met a man who told me he worked out with his Machoke. He was an exceptionally large man and at first I thought he was joking. However, according to some of the other Trainers I’ve talked to, it is a very effective method to train and it helps the Fighting-type learn to better control their abilities. Unfortunately, I know nothing about fighting so you'll be teaching me quite a lot at the beginning.”
Machop eagerly grinned at Slate and he couldn't help grin back. This was going to be fun.
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Time Tracker:
Days passed in Chapter: 3
Total Days: 99
Trainer Card:
Name: Slate
Occupation: Trainer, Healer, Trainee Joy, Field Healer
Ambitions:
* To find his long lost Starter
* To become a Generalist Master, a Master of all Types
Badges: Boulder(II), Cascade(II), Thunder(II)
Trophies: Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament Qualifier (3rd)
Carry Limit: 7/11
Key items: Lucky Pebble, Aron’s Rock
Pokémon: 7
Name: Scyther (F)
Type: Bug/Flying
Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy, Silver Wind, Agility
Core Moves: Rest, Swift
Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)
Type: Ice
Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray, Draining Kiss, Icy Wind, Mist
Core Moves: Swift, Rest
Name: Lairon (M)
Type: Steel/Rock
Potential Moves: Dragon Rush, Iron Defense, Rock Polish, Heavy Slam
Core Moves: Rest, Protect
Name: Chansey (F) (Non-Combatant)
Type: Normal
Potential Moves: Seismic Toss, Life Dew, Drain Punch, Calm Mind, Gravity, Heal Pulse, Soft-Boiled
Core Moves: Rest, Swift
Name: Flaaffy (M)
Type: Electric
Potential Moves: Charge, Thunderbolt, Cotton Guard, Thunder Punch
Core Moves: Rest, Endure
Name: Machop (F)
Type: Fighting
Potential Moves: Counter, Revenge, Poison Jab, Snore, Close Combat
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Substitute
Name: Bulbasaur (F)
Type: Grass/Poison
Potential Moves: Ingrain, Sludge Bomb, Petal Blizzard, Trailblaze, Petal Dance
Core Moves: Rest