“Absolutely not!”

James’s voice hit the walls of the emptied-out Viridian Gym, bounced back, and washed over Meowth’s ears a second time. Ariana, the Boss’s secretary and second-in-command, did not reply. She only stood, as firmly rooted to the ground as an ancient oak – or maybe a stop sign would be a more appropriate comparison, given her stiff posture and the thick red hair framing her head. The woman radiated a mix of emotions, despite her face being blank.

Emotions that neither Jessie nor James seemed to be picking up on. The latter pumped his fist. “The Boss wouldn’t give up! Not just from losing to that bothersome twerp!”

“Yeah! We lose to him all the time! It’s barely a setback!”

The Chief Executive finally moved, uncrossing her arms as her mouth opened just barely enough to speak. “Do you think I’m making it up? Look around – the Gym is empty. Or better yet, turn on a radio and listen for once in your lives.” Her voice seemed calm, but Meowth could hear the tension and anger underneath. “Giovanni made a public announcement. It’s all over the news – Team Rocket is disbanded.”

Meowth shuddered at the aura she was giving off – the woman was universally vicious, and seeing her do her best impression of a cliff face was creepy. Dat’s right; da Boss’s secretary weren’t just his secretary, weren’t she? The Pokémon had often smelled their scents on each other, but until now he hadn’t really cared to dig into the implications of that. “Guys,” he muttered. “Maybe we oughta back off for a sec. Before dis turns inta-”

But as usual, his good sense was ignored. Jessie ploughed ahead, getting right up in the older woman’s face. “Team Rocket can’t be done! Everything was fine a week ago when we checked in!”

“Look, we even completed our mission!” James chimed in, brandishing a duffle bag. “A dozen clefairy, fresh from Mount Moon! Oh, it was spectacular – there must have been a hundred of them all dancing together! Then, like a silent noctowl swooping down in the calm night air..!”

He made a dramatic motion, but the redheads completely ignored him. Meowth pressed on his leg, attempting to convey that now ain’t da time for lightening da mood!

Sometimes when it seemed that humans were failing to communicate with each other – compared to Pokémon, they needed so many words, had so few instincts – he’d get surprised as a single sentence put a novel’s worth of context into place. That was something he still struggled with, even after years of practice and experience speaking Kantonese.

But it was obvious that wasn’t happening here; no, his humans tended to just be just plain bad at reading the room. The tension held in Athena Ariana’s frame erupted, and she grabbed Jessie by the collar.

“What do you know?!” she stated-slash-screamed – her voice had one tone, calm and composed, and her eyes another, loud and hysteric. “You weren’t even here! You Agents are all the same – thinking you’re anything other than Grunts in a higher-class uniform!”

Jessie struggled – while trying to hide that she needed to struggle – but though it was two arms against one, she failed to dislodge Ariana’s grip. “Let go of me, you-!”

“Hey now!” James said, moving forward. His arms were up, spread wide as he tried to defuse things. “Let’s not turn this into a catfight – look, even if the Boss said Team Rocket was disbanded, it must be some plan!”

“That’s right!” Jessie continued, still trying vainly to recover the front of her top from the other woman’s control. “The Boss is always on top of things!”

“One step ahead!”

“Or two!”

A beat of silence as they waited for him to add his own words, but Meowth didn’t follow along. Instead, Ariana’s too-calm voice filled the empty space.

“A plan?” Jessie choked as she was nearly lifted off her feet. Yeesh, dat broad’s got a real arm on her! “You think Giovanni is abandoning me, abandoning our son, just so he can put some plan into place?”

…Son? He hadn’t been expecting to hear that, and a glance at the other two told him they hadn’t, either.

Again, James tried to play peacemaker. The bag of Pokéballs dropped into Meowth’s paws as the man let them go, freeing his hands to more effectively gesture in placation. “You’re obviously under a lot of stress right now, Miss Ariana. Let’s just cool off a bit, talk this through. When did the Boss leave? Which way did he go?”

Jessie slipped out of her white Agent top rather than continue to put up with the mild strangulation, leaving her in her black undershirt. “Why are you even here anyway? If Rocket’s disbanded, shouldn’t you be getting back to your pet store, you- you old hag!” Her hand drifted towards Arbok’s ball as her eyes burned, but after a moment’s indignation she seemed to finally catch onto the other woman’s mood. “…Son?” she mouthed. “But that’s…”

Ariana’s composure cracked, and she threw the loose shirt to the ground. “You don’t believe me? Fine.” A kick sent the fabric into the air, and James leaned back to catch it as it fell. “Fine. Do whatever you want – you’re right, I shouldn't be here. Arcus forbid I try to catch a few remaining grunts before they walk right into-” She cut herself off, turning. “Leave. I don’t want to deal with you – whether you get picked up by the Jennys or make some kind of life for yourselves, you are not my problem anymore.”

Another beat of silence. James opened his mouth, but bit his tongue as the Chief Executive – is she still dat? Is we still Agents? – whirled.

“I said leave! Get out!” There was the anger and frustration, finally audible. Her hand passed over her side and in a flash of light an arbok, its hood patterned differently from the one he knew, reared up between them. “Until they get around to stripping it away, this is my Gym. I don’t want to see your faces in Viridian again.”

Another flash, and now there were two arbok. “You say Team Rocket is disbanded, but you still want to order us around?” James put up his hands again, but Jessie continued. “I’ve had enough! You’re going to answer our questions!”

A moment of hesitation, before James drew his own Pokéball. “R-right! There’s no need for this to get ugly, but if it does – well, it’s three-to-one odds! Don’t think we’ll lose!”

----------------------------------------

They lost. It wasn’t even close – and with all the poison flying around from three different specialist teams, the humans hadn’t fared much better than their Pokémon.

Woise, as a matter of fact. Arbok and Weezing can handle a face full’a dat stuff way better dan deir bosses – and better ‘n poor little normal type me!

Jessie was sitting cross-legged, sulking, while James dabbed her face with a medicine-soaked cloth. Between the swelling, the discolouration, and the dappled light of Viridian Forest’s outskirts, the three of them looked like they had fallen into a nest of beedrill.

The woman’s skin regained its health within seconds of the cloth passing over; James must have broken out the good stuff. There was a part of Meowth that wanted to point out that supplies probably wouldn’t be coming in any time soon – even if this was just some kind of plot on the Boss’s part – and that they should probably make due with the cheap herbs that could be scrounged up. But he had taken the edge of an Acid Spray, and really didn’t want to jeopardize his own dose of antidote.

“Lousy, stinking…” Jessie muttered. “It can’t be true…”

“Don’t worry, Jessie.” James’s voice was filled with concern. He was one of those humans whose words always matched their mood, which had been a big help when Meowth had been learning to talk, but sometimes it turned into an issue when they did undercover work. “Even if the Boss really is gone… we’re still here!” His cloth found a tender spot and she flinched, but a firm grip on her chin kept the redhead still.

James was rarely forceful, but when he did put his foot down he could be surprisingly strong. Jessie could only hiss as the medicine soaked through puffy, distended skin.

“Even if it’s just the three of us,” he continued, “We’re still Rockets! We’ll find him in no time, and get this all sorted out!”

“Da kid,” Meowth slid in, and the two humans turned at the sound of his voice. “Ariana said dat Giovanni had a kid – I ain’t never heard ‘a dat before.”

“She said ‘our,’” Jessie corrected. “Implying she’s his mother.” Her expression was strange, something unfamiliar to his eyes, but he could smell the mixture of her emotions more clearly through his nose; sour notes of frustration, sympathy, and annoyance under the medicinal fumes.

“Do you think it’s true?” James asked. “I’ve never gotten the feeling they were anything more than Boss and Chief Executive…”

“Well, da Boss would be cagey about dat sort ‘a ting…” Giovanni had such a strong handle on his emotions, even a Pokémon couldn’t tell what he was thinking – or at least he had never managed it; maybe the Rocket Boss’s team saw a secret tender side.

James made a considering sound as he pulled away from his partner. “I guess there isn’t any reason for her to lie – and she seemed rather distraught near the end.” He beckoned, and Meowth walked over for his own turn with the antidote-soaked rag. “I think… we should probably believe it.” Yeowch, dat really stings! Human medicine always seemed to be painful – but it was effective enough. “Though I’m curious why you’d bring it up. Meowth?”

His teeth bared in an instinctive snarl, but just like with Jessie the blue-haired man kept him restrained, apparently without any effort. “If dare’s anybody da Boss would tell before he left…”

“It would be his son!” Jessie finished. “But that harpy refused to answer our perfectly reasonable questions…”

“Which means,’ James took up, “We’ll have to find him and get the info right from the horse’s mouth! Great thinking, Meowth!”

The unyieldingly gentle fingers pulled away, and he grappled with the urge to claw for a moment – but it passed just as quickly as it came. “Of course. Problem is, how da we find da kid? We don’t even got a name.”

The two humans paused, wearing identical expressions of deep thought, before replying simultaneously. “We’ll follow Ariana!”

“She’ll have to go home eventually!” James continued.

“She’ll lead us right to him!”

Meowth nodded. “Dat’s right! So let’s get on it, instead ‘a mopin’ around in da woods!”

They cheered, back in sync, before James toppled slowly backwards with a breathy moan.

“James! Darn it – give me that cloth!”

----------------------------------------

Six months. That was how long it took to track down Silver Capo, son of Giovanni Capo.

Ironically, it had been the former Executive who found them; her son was missing, leaving only a note expressing his intent to find his father, and with the disbanding… they were the only people she had available.

Can’t believe a kid made it all da way over da mountains by his lonesome. The Silver Range was brutal – it had taken them months to make it across, and the trio had him, a professional cat burglar and natural predator, leading the pack!

Maybe it’s da name. Giovanni had named his son after the mountains – maybe it was just fate that he’d been able to cross without the help of a single Pokémon. Kid’s tough, I’ll give him dat.

Across Route 28, snaking through the winding valleys between the mountains, then down into a long cave system coated top-to-bottom in frost – Silver had led them on a not-so-merry chase, taxing his and Arbok’s tracking abilities to the limit. And all dat wit’out even knowing he was bein’ followed. But now, here they were. End ‘a da road, Capo. Meowth pressed his face to the glass, peering past the displays of food to the shadowy booths deeper in.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

There he was, sitting in Mahogany Town’s sole restaurant, sipping a hot drink; scarlet hair with sun-lightened orange streaks hanging long and shaggy down his shoulders. The tattered clothes one would expect from half a year in the wilderness. But more than anything else…

It was the face. Even if they didn’t have a picture from his mother, Meowth still would have known – he had the Boss’s face, the same sharp nose, the same intensity in his dark eyes. The same expression the Boss had when they failed a mission, as if the world itself was a continual disappointment.

“Dat’s him.”

“Finally.”

“He has his father’s eyes…”

The three looked at each other, and as one decided on a course of action.

“A bath first.”

“And disguises, obviously.”

“Right quick, dough. Gotta get back before he hits da road – I ain’t trackin’ him down a second time!”

Synchronised nods, before they crossed the street to Mahogany’s sole hotel. They were still flush with cash from selling all those clefairy, and it had been burning a hole in their collective pockets for months.

----------------------------------------

They caught him before he finished eating – of course they did; he was just as desperate to enjoy civilisation as they were, savouring each bite of his savoury dish like…

Heh. Like he’s been eatin’ berries and fish for so long as he can remember. Meowth knew the exact feeling.

The three of them slid into the opposite side of the booth, and it was a full ten seconds before the kid snapped out of his pasta fugue – but when he did, sharp eyes instantly set them on edge.

“Who’re you?” he snapped. The kid didn’t have any Pokémon, but his hand clenched around his fork – and Meowth felt like maybe it hadn’t just been fate keeping him alive.

James answered. “Associates of your father, young man.”

“Your mom’s paying us to find you,” Jessie continued, her voice more sour than her partner’s – the woman hated camping. “What were you thinking, going through Mount Silver? Do you have a death wish, twerp?”

Silver looked at them silently, sizing them up before opening his mouth. “If you worked for my dad… you’re Rockets.”

James nodded, the grey curls of his wig bobbing.

The kid’s lips curled in distaste. “I don’t have anything to say to Team Rocket. Go tell my mom I’ll be home with Dad.”

Jessie’s own wig hugged the sides of her face as she leaned in. “Now look here, twerp-”

“No,” the kid cut her off forcefully. “Team Rocket’s the reason my dad lost. The reason he left.”

Subtly, Meowth surveyed the room – despite the raised voices, they were fine; people were looking over, but the disguises did their jobs. The restaurant’s staff only saw a kid, obviously of adventuring age, arguing with his grandparents as his little brother watched awkwardly.

James shot back, offense overpowering his natural courtesy. “You take that back!”

“I won’t! He said it to me himself!” The fork came up, pointing with malice. “You guys are the reason Dad left! I’ve gotta find him, so…” he paused, searching his nine-year-old vocabulary. “So piss off!”

“Language, young man!”

Things devolved a bit from there, and they ended up kicked out of the place – but later, as they kept following the kid around, their persistence was rewarded.

----------------------------------------

The rock narrowly missed Meowth’s ears, hitting the brim of his schoolboy cap and dislodging it. He fumbled with the thing for a moment, before remembering he had claws to grip with.

“Hey! Watch da hat! Dese costumes ain’t cheap, ya know!”

The small human scowled. “Stop following me. And stop dressing up like old people! It’s creepy!” In the light of the adult’s headlamps he cast an eerie silhouette, the deep shadows creating an illusion of depth, like he was standing against an endless abyss. Meowth shuddered. I hate bein’ underground.

James tutted. “Come now, Silver! We just want to keep you safe – think about how your mother would feel, if something were to happen?” He was speaking in a certain tone – one he often lapsed into when stressed. The language of his high-class boyhood.

Another rock, this one aimed at James. Unfortunately, Mount Mortar had more than enough ammunition for the kid to keep pelting them, and eventually Jessie blew up.

She threw her old lady’s cane at the boy, who narrowly dodged. It made a soft sound as it hit the ground, much quieter than her stomping. “James, Meowth! Let’s just tie him up and cart the little monster back already!”

“But Jessie,” Meowth replied. “We was gonna let him lead us ta da Boss, remember?”

She fumed. “He obviously doesn’t know where he’s going! First Mount Silver, now Mortar? Why would Giovanni come here?”

A rock came out of nowhere, catching her on the temple and leaving a nasty mark. She screeched wordlessly, clenching her fists to resist the urge to draw a ball.

“Shows what you know,” Silver said, smug. Got a vicious streak a mile wide, this kid. Takes after his mother, I guess… “I’m following Dad’s rhydon – that’s how I tracked him through the mountains, and that’s how I’ll find him here, too.”

Meowth blinked. “Rhydon?” Even Jessie paused, her anger on hold.

“You mean…” James led in.

“All those tyranitar tracks we were terrified of…”

“Weren’t tyranitar tracks at all?”

The boy snorted, turning to leave them behind. “Weird and stupid, too.” His voice dwindled as he hiked through the dark tunnel, and they scrambled to keep up. “Obviously Dad would have his Pokémon out. Who mistakes a rhydon for a tyranitar? They’re completely different! They don’t even have the same number of toes!”

They followed, huddled. “How were we meant to know that?” James asked.

“Tyranitar are nearly legendary – and I’ve never seen a rhydon other than the Boss’s!”

“Dat’s right! Dey only live in da safari zone!”

His human partners nodded. “And certain caves, like Victory Road,” James added before they fell silent.

Down and up and around, the endless tunnels went. Sometimes they opened up into caverns, other times into lakes or shallow rivers. But despite the terrain, somehow the human child always seemed to find the line of faint marks that led onwards.

Meowth was begrudgingly impressed – sure, if he had known they should be following rhydon tracks he’d have been able to lead them across the Silver Range a lot faster, but he was a natural hunter. The kid was just a human, his nose dull, his eyes unable to cut through the gloom like Meowth’s mirrored irises.

Real impressive. He really is da Boss’s son…

Occasionally they encountered Pokémon, but wit or grit always saw them through. Weezing’s superior poison gassed out nests of zubat, while Arbok intimidated raticate and marill into keeping their distance.

And of course, he himself was instrumental in negotiating their way past the scores of machoke and graveler. It was a relief that there were at least a few Pokémon smart enough to talk their way around – if they had to fight everything, there was no way their supplies would last.

“Silver,” James pleaded. “Please, turn back. It’s not safe to sleep down here – we need to at least find a safe place to camp, before we all collapse.”

The boy looked back, faint disgust on his features. “No, I already told you. This is the furthest I’ve ever gotten – I’m going to find him today.”

Jessie clawed at the air. They had long abandoned their costumes as the temperature rose, and her ruby hair shone iridescent in the narrow but powerful beams of their lamps. “You’re only getting this far because we’re here!”

Her arbok hissed, mirroring her trainer’s annoyance.

“Good point, dat,” Meowth added. “Kid, yer dad’ll still be dere tomorrow – assumin’ he is in dis stinkin’ cave – and we’re dead tired. You too.” Can’t hide it from my nose, kid.

At the mention of his own fatigue, Silver’s face became rancorous. “If you wanna leave, then leave! I’m not stopping you!” He forged ahead, and the quintet pushed their tired legs, tail, and gas bladder to the brink to keep up.

The tunnel came out into yet another cavern, but unlike the dozen they had passed through already, this one was lit. A trail of Pokémon, their bodies like oozing magma, emerged from a narrow crack on one side of the room, before disappearing into a similar crack on the other.

Silver groaned angrily at the line of slugma and magcargo blocking the path. “Darn it! Move, you- you slugs!”

A glowing, goopy head turned the human’s way. “Blorp,” it said, before turning back to – very, very slowly – follow its family. Meowth snickered. Oof, glad James weren’t able to understand dat; right potty mout’ on dat one.

They slowed to a stop behind the Boss’s son, Jessie and James catching their breath – James even slid off his backpack and lowered himself to the ground.

“Well, dat’s dat,” he said with a nod. “Ain’t gettin’ past dese fellas – wit’ how fast dey’re goin’, it’ll be hours before da way’s clear.”

Weezing exhaled haltingly in agreement.

“No!” Gettin’ real tired a’ that word, kid… “I am going to find my dad! He’ll see how I crossed the mountains alone, how strong I am, and he’ll come home!” He sidled from side to side, reaching forward before flinching back from the emissions of the literal magma-hot Pokémon.

From his spot on the floor, James shot the kid a sad look. “Silver… Look, when I was your age-”

He was cut off by a triumphant noise. “Here! There’s a gap!” He stepped forward, and Meowth, exhausted, missed the chance to pull him back.

“Kid! You dummy, youse gonna lose yer legs!”

“Silver!” “You damn twerp! Get back here!”

Their cries fell on deaf ears. Silver stepped into something way too small to label a gap – wedged between three slugma, the heat must have been like being baked in an oven; Meowth could see his hair curling, the edges of shirt flash yellow as loose threads erupted into flame.

“Weezing!” James yelled, “See if you can go in from above! Silver, you need to grab him!”

A moment of hesitance crossed Silver’s face as the poisonous gasbag hovered up, cringing at the fiery ambience. Then his face set. “That’s right, you have a flying Pokémon! We didn’t need to stop at all – don’t pretend you want to help me!” He turned forward, and with a lunge cleared the crowd of slugma.

He landed with a yell, one mirrored by the three rockets, tumbling across the hot stone, clutching his leg.

But then he was up, the pain hidden under rage and determination as tears sparkled in the corners of his eyes. “S-see? I didn’t need your help!” He turned and stomped off, obviously making a show of not favouring his burnt leg, leaving them behind.

“Arbok, return!”

“Sorry, Weezing! Looks like you’ll be flying three passengers, rather than one!”

----------------------------------------

They went further down, far enough that the tunnels turned from stone to volcanic glass. Arc, I figured it was called Mortar ‘cause ‘a da bowl-type shape of da mountain – but now I feel like I’ve been mortared!

To their good fortune, the path didn’t split or open up; there was only the steep, winding tunnel digging down into the crust. All they had to do was follow it, and with their cat-like agility – or longer legs – it was only a matter of time.

A minute passed; sixty seconds of overpowering beams shining back at them from jagged crystalline surfaces, of sharp edges and uneven footing, of laboured heaving as their tired bodies worked overtime, before the tunnel bottomed out.

They saw him before he saw them. “Silver!” James called, and when the kid looked back it was with an expression Meowth hadn't seen him wear before: genuine fear overpowering the thick mask of bravado. He was crouched down, cradled on one side by a knee-high boulder, and he put a finger to his mouth in the universal sign of shut up!

Meowth tried to stop – but the tunnel was too steep. The other two might have managed it, in their studded boots, if they hadn’t grabbed him when he started to tumble. And so the three of them turned into a ball of limbs for the final fifteen feet of the tunnel, crashing down next to Silver as he looked on, horrified.

The trio of Rockets let out various moans of pain and exhaustion as they disentangled.

“Finally! Don’t run off on us, you little devil! Ugh, my poor back…” Jessie flopped over, James remaining face down.

“Mommy, I don’t want to be underground anymore…” he whimpered into the glassy floor.

Meowth opened his mouth to complete the pattern – but he was interrupted by a deep, resounding, nearby thump. In the darkness, something moved.

“You idiots,” Silver hissed. “Run! Get out of here!”

A spare helmet plinked along in their wake – must ‘a fallen out ‘a someone’s backpack, came the slow, discombobulated thought – eventually spinning to a stop, its headlamp flickering on just in time to reveal the large, incredibly angry shape they had woken from its nap.

“W-who’s dat Pokémon?”

Jessie gulped. “It’s… rhydon?”

“That’s no rhydon! Go, Victreebel!” For the briefest of moments the entire cavern was illuminated by the flash as James released his fully evolved grass type, revealing the den of what was most certainly an apex predator, bones strewn about like straw bedding.

It… looked like a rhydon, but more. The broad features were the same; a large, bipedal Pokémon with stony plates covering tough skin, a prominent horn jutting from its snout. But where rhydon was a smooth grey, this super-rhydon was an earthy brown, its plate armour a lighter, almost orange shade.

“Woah woah woah!” Meowth yelled. “Look, we ain’t lookin’ fer trouble! Now I knows we interrupted yer nap, but it was all a mistake, see?” A deep, angry rumble. “Yer territory? We was jus’ leavin’! Cross my heart an-”

It charged, and James called out an attack. “Stun Spore!” The cave filled with a billowing yellow cloud – only for a resounding crash to echo out as the ground heaved, cracking apart beneath their feet.

Victreebel slumped out of the cloud, the bottom of its body leaking digestive fluid, and they gaped. “O-one hit?! Return!”

Jessie grit her teeth as she released her own Pokémon. “That was a good move, James. It'll be weakened. Arbok, stay close.”

To their side, Silver stood slowly on his injured leg. “W-we can’t win. It’s too strong – you should run.”

As the super-rhydon emerged from the spore cloud, spitting and bellowing its anger, Jessie looked to the side, flashing the child a half-grin as shaky as his legs. “You’ve been slandering Rocket since the moment we met, kid. Honestly, I kind of hate your guts – you remind me of a certain other twerp who’s given us a lot of trouble.”

Weezing came out in a third flash of red. “But you're our Boss’s son… and it isn’t like we could leave you alone even if you weren't!” James flashed his own smile, manic and desperate and sincere. “So now watch us prove you wrong – Team Rocket isn’t weak!”

“James, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Well, there’s really only the one option, isn’t there?”

They grinned at each other, then at Meowth, who smiled back with bared fangs as the massive Pokémon approached – slowly, both by dint of its bulk, and Victreebel’s spores. “Dat’s right! Da old Rocket special!”

“Thank your dad for this move, pint-size: Arbok, Earthquake!”

“Weezing, Self-Destruct!”

Meowth grabbed the kid as the Pokémon’s den filled with light and heat and noise, hoisting him up above his head and sprinting with all the strength that desperation could dredge up.

He cried out, and to his relief two voices joined him in sync, just a half-step behind. “Team Rocket’s blasting off again!”