Well, Chapter 7 is here. This is where things REALLY start to get interesting. This is, I would think, the point of no return.


After this, there was no turning back for me. After this, I HAD to finish this fic, even if it was just for myself.





Things were moving far too quickly. The changes in the timeline that had initially been happening sporadically were now coming faster and faster. Some of his number were scrambling to correct the changes. He would soon have to report to the Council, and get their support for more drastic measures, he was sure. He was no longer sure that it was simply one person or faction that was making the changes. There were at least two. He suspected that he knew who it was, besides the Dark One.

The Dark One’s power was growing considerably as well. If a direct intervention to interrupt the most major change in the timeline wasn’t attempted soon, then all of his work in the Physical Realm would be for naught. He had spent hundreds of years trying to stop the Dark One, and he would not allow for it to be foiled when humans in the future mastered the art of time travel.

True, he had just under two weeks to fix everything if things kept accelerating at their present rate, but he wasn’t sure if that would be enough for him to return things to normal. He had been the first to experiment with inter-dimensional travel into the Physical Realm. The rest of The Council had spent far too much time as non-corporeal entities.

The figure smiled, wondering what it would be like to be corporeal again. He had almost forgotten what food tasted like. Maybe, if worst came to worst and he had to go to the Physical Realms himself, he’d try some of their new culinary concoctions, such as “pizza” or perhaps what they called a “cheeseburger.”


“I hate this,” Lorelei muttered, shifting in her seat, making her newly dyed cerulean hair swirl around slightly, causing her unchanged hair to swish into Bugsy’s face. What had she been thinking, dying it like she had? Her old hair was perfectly fine. Had been perfectly fine.

Bugy sputtered as he pushed her hair out of his face, “What is it now?” he groaned, “I’m almost afraid to ask. Look, the Nurse Joy in Cherrygrove said that your Sneasel will be waiting for you at the Verin Retreat. The Pilot said that there was a zero percent probability of the plane spontaneously combusting, you saw for yourself that the flight attendant’s tray carts aren’t going to be sliding around all over the place, you’ve been told a dozen times that flying is safer than taking a Pokémon journey, you checked with the Global Police to make sure that Team Aero hasn’t been spotted sniffing around our route, and you’ve chewed out I don’t know how many food venders, which led to our food orders being canceled! Is there something that you need, your highness? Or is something else bothering you, perhaps?” he sighed and leaned against the back of his seat, “Maybe there are too many people on the plane, or will we be flying too high.” He grumbled quietly, “Or, horrors, maybe you’ve suddenly come down with a dislike of the ice and snow of cold old Nuschantz?!.

Lorelei made a face at him. “Yes,” She said darkly, “Yes, yes, and I have ALWAYS hated cold weather. That’s why I liked living in Alto, and, to a lesser extent, Kanto. It’s ALWAYS warm there. Unless you’re way up high.” She shook her head and glanced around, and began speaking louder, so that one of the flight attendants, who was passing out beverages, could hear, “On top of that, the seats are too small, the food is disgusting, the wait to get onboard was way too long, I don’t have enough room to put my baggage, and, oh, I’m not going anywhere near the bathrooms on this thing! Plus, I think that somebody forgot to replace the bloody muffler in this bloody plane’s bloody engines!”

“I see you picked up a few choice words from your old friend, Sabrina,” Bugsy muttered.

“How do you know her?” Lorelei demanded.

Bugsy shrugged. “I know her mother. Dad used to have 'em over all the time for tea or some such thing before they sent her off to Alto for school.”

He sighed and looked around the cabin of the plane, knowing that everyone was getting annoyed with Lorelei. She had been complaining non-stop ever since they’d left
Cherrygrove City. Frankly, he was fed up with her, but if he said anything, she’d probably beat him up with all the martial arts that she knew.

And if she complained this much in first class What would she have done if they had gone in the business class. He shook his head. As it was, the seats in the small cabin were rather spacious for airline seats. Obviously Lorelei hadn’t flown very many times. He grinned and looked out the window. The engines weren’t really that loud. Well, by airline standards. And it was true that the food was disgusting, but pretty good by airline standards. But, unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice but to listen Lorelei rail on and on about various things that he generally couldn't care less about.

He glanced over at Lorelei, and realized that she had stopped talking while his mind had been wandering. Dimly, he knew that she had asked him a question, and was staring at him expectantly. “Um,” Bugsy replied hesitantly, “Yes?”

Lorelei’s eyes narrowed, “You think,” she hissed slowly, “That the free enterprise system is perfect in that those that are rich can stay rich indefinitely, thus promoting the illusion that dictators are the norm? You think that the CEOs of Silph Company or Specter Corp would make good world rulers?!”

Bugsy blinked. Had she really been talking about that? He’d really been zoned out, then. “Um, can I change my answer?” he asked, suddenly sorry that he’d let her have the aisle seat.

He raised his arm to protect himself from the flurry of fists that his traveling partner intended to use to move his skull a good distance, and felt his eardrums begin to ring as she started shouting at him. She probably knew, he mused to himself as his arm was pummeled, and he tried to turn his back to her, that he hadn’t been listening to her. And that probably explained why she was hitting him so hard, while yelling at him for accidentally saying the wrong thing when he hadn’t been listening.

Suddenly, the rain of blows stopped, and he turned to see Lorelei attacking a flight attendant who probably had tried to stop her from hitting him. He shook his head and grabbed her arms, thus diverting her attention back to him. And this time he didn’t have his arms up to protect himself. He saw the flight attendant making a hurried withdrawal from her section of the plane, and turned his body aside as Lorelei showed no signs of stopping her assault anytime soon.


The operative glanced over at the left side of the cabin, where a pair of teenagers he had assumed to be a couple were apparently having an argument. And the female was hitting the male. He didn’t really care if they were fighting or not, but if he was correct, the male was Bugsy, the
Azalea Town gym leader. He would do fine. He frowned, and suddenly he recognized the girl. It was the daughter of Silph Company’s Kanto National Supervisor, Lorelei Belle Winters. His eyes glittered. She would make a fine prize.

Surely the Kantans and the Johtans would force the Retreat to accede to their request with two such valuable hostages aboard. And if they didn’t…well, he’d be forced to make an example of the pair.

Should he begin it now? He glanced out the window, and ran his hand over his shaved head. No. He wasn’t over Nuschantz yet. They were still over the ocean. It would do no good to begin until they were in Nuschantian airspace.

He settled back into his chair and began reading, glancing over at the woman sleeping beside him once. He smiled. In just a few hours, her life would change in ways that she could not possibly expect. As would the lives of everyone on this plane. They had no clue what was about to happen to them. It would change the course of their lives forever. If any of them survived, they would always remember what happened on this particular flight.


“Well, Gertal,” the captor said to his prisoner, who was sitting on a cot in his cell, “It looks like we got you this time. Your men have been messing with the Jynx teleportation sites. Hijacking and stealing supplies from our trade convoys.” The man paced in front of the cell, “We’ve finally got you.” He smirked, “And you’re not going anywhere.”

The man in the cell, a tall, broad-shouldered man, ran a hand through his red hair and looked up at the man taunting him, and smiled evenly, “Lefar,” he said quietly, “I promise you that I gave no such orders. I know that we’ve had our differences of opinion politically, but I don’t see why you have to jail me because of a political institution.”

The man who had been called Lefar stiffened, and glared at his prisoner with penetrating emerald eyes, “A political entity?” he spat, “Is that what Team Blizzard is? It’s nothing but another gang of thugs, out to make a fast buck at the expense of innocents. That, Gertal, is what your creation has become. It’s no better than Team Magma or Team Aqua.”

Gertal shot to his feet, his bedraggled clothing swirling around him as if they were in a tempest, and he stalked to the door of the cell, and grabbed the bars, “Don’t you dare,” he said slowly, “compare the Team Blizzard to Team Aqua or Team Magma. Yes, we have evolved from a mere political party, and yes, we do have the 'Team' prefix, but, at our core, that is who we are. We do not seek military might, or conquest of one person, party, or type over another, as Team Aqua and Magma do. We seek equality for those who wander the vast reaches of Nuschantz with those that live in posh resorts catering to fat tourists!” he spat out, shaking his head.

“Watch your tongue, Gertal,” Lefar cautioned, “Remember that you are in one of those posh resorts, and that I made it specifically to cater to,” he paused, then said sarcastically, “Fat tourists. We have finally captured you, and you WILL stand trial for what your men have done. While you stand here and say that your men are not martial in nature, I’ve heard reports of three more raids into sequential Jynx Teleportation sites. That cuts off the North parts of our country from our Southern. The Bush Pilots have also reported that at least two hundred of your men are marching on the retreat even as we speak! Do you call those the actions of a political party?”

Gertal shook his head, “No,” he said quietly, “Eltan wouldn’t allow it. He knows what we are trying to do. How we’re trying to change Nuschantz.”

Open your eyes, Gertal!” Lefar exploded, “Your ‘team’ is good for nothing but to fill spaces in the Mendall Retreat’s prison cells! Your men are dangerous thugs who will use whatever force is necessary to complete their mission. THAT is why you are under arrest, and THAT is why you will not be sent anywhere but the Mendall Retreat. Your men that are coming to rescue you will be defeated, I assure you.”

Gertal shook his head, “They can’t be coming for me. That would defeat everything that I have done. Eltan wouldn’t allow them to do such a thing. I know him. He wouldn’t allow war to erupt between the Resorters and the Nomads.”


Eltan glanced at his watch, and smiled. It was time to get things started. He reached under the seat in front of him and pulled out his suitcase. The woman beside him had woken up, and was reading, now. He glanced out the window, and smiled. They were over Nuschantian soil. He put the suitcase on his tray table and turned it so that no one else would be able to see what was inside.

The other passengers on the plane would think that he were odd, certainly, but he doubted they’d do anything else. He glanced inside, and turned off the ECM counter-jammer. The small device had made his suitcase appear to carry clothes when passed through an X-ray device, thus hiding its true contents.

Smiling, he reached inside and felt around, and found the two things he wanted. He smiled as his fingers closed around the comforting cold steel of the pistol and the small, cylindrical signaling device. Carefully, he quickly stuffed the gun underneath his shirt, and set the signaler on the tray table. He put the suitcase under back under the seat in front of him, and leaned back. All he needed to do now was wait for the flight attendant.

After that, he would have control of the plane within minutes. And he’d be able to redirect it to the Blizzard base. And then, Lefar Verin would have no choice but to release Gertal Tenlin, the founder and leader of Team Blizzard. And if he refused, he would have Gertal anyway. Eltan smiled, and closed his eyes, knowing that no one had seen the gun, and that his plan was fool-proof. Blizzard’s new allies would make sure that he wouldn’t fail. Soon, the Nomads of Nuschantz would control it. And there would be nothing the Resorters would be able to do.


Lorelei glared at the flight attendant, who glanced around, probably wondering if there was some place she could escape to. Lorelei, for her part, was annoyed. Very annoyed. “What do you mean,” she hissed, “that ya don’t have it. Let me tell you one more time what I want, and it had better be on my tray table. I want Grape Spritz. Not Hilly Mist, not any other kind of soda. I want Grape Spritz!”

The flight attendant sighed, and glanced around the plane’s cabin once more, “I’m sorry,” she said, and Bugsy could tell that she was genuinely sorry. “We don’t have Grape Spritz. Can I interest you in—“ she began before Lorelei cut her off.

“No.” Lorelei adamantly declared. “I said I wanted Grape Spritz. If I tell you what kind of soft drink I want, I EXPECT to get it!” Out of the corner of her eye, Lorelei say Bugsy lean forward like he was about to say something. A swift push from one of her arms fixed that. Lorelei eyed the flight attendant and her cart as if she were hiding Grape Spritz somewhere, and then Lorelei said slowly, “I’ll take water.”

She glanced over at Bugsy, “Do you want anything?” she asked the purple-haired gym leader. He smiled and opened his mouth. Lorelei swung her head around and glared at the flight attendant as she set the water down in front of her. “He’s fine,” she said quickly, “Go ahead and move along.”

Bugsy chuckled, “You owe me money,” he said, putting a hand between the seats. Lorelei whirled to face him, her mouth open to make a smart remark. “I told you she’d settle for water.” Lorelei glared at him.

“Yeah,” she heard somebody say from behind her, “But I told you that she wouldn’t let you get anything. We’re even.”

Bugsy frowned, “Nope. That bet was ten. The one that I won was eighty. Pay up.” Lorelei glared at him even harder. He smiled apologetically at her.

“Who’s that,” she demanded, as Bugsy’s hand came back through the seat filled with money.

Bugsy grinned, “Nobody special. Just one of my friends from
Saffron University.” Lorelei heard someone grumbling behind her.

Lorelei shook her head and held out her hand. “Hand it over,” she said quietly, in a reasonable tone. “You earned it off of me. That means that I should get all of the proceeds.”

Bugsy grinned and shook his head, “Sorry, darling, but that wasn’t part of the deal.”

Lorelei’s eyes narrowed, and as her left arm snaked out and struck him in the throat, her right ripped the money from his hands. Bugsy collapsed into his seat, coughing. A hand quickly appeared over the front of her seat, holding a roll of bills that Lorelei surmised was for another bet Bugsy had made. Lorelei smiled as she plucked the bills out of the hand, and said pleasantly, “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Bugsy was too busy trying to breathe to respond to her.


Eltan looked over at the young couple, and chuckled as the man was forced to give his girlfriend what probably amounted to protection money. The flight attendant whose back he had his pistol shoved into flinched, but continued towards the front of the plane. “You understand, don’t you,” he said when she continued moving, and didn’t try to move away, “That it’s nothing personal. And that I’ll shoot you if you do anything I don’t want you to. And that includes talking. Let’s just go up and have a nice little chat with the captain.”

The flight attendant nodded stiffly, and moved forward. To her credit, she was holding up rather well. A quick glance across the center row of seats showed that Letvarin was moving towards the galley, and the elevator to the lower level. Where all the guns and heavy equipment was. Right now, he just had his tiny Derringer, but soon, he’d have one of the heaviest sub-machine guns that had been manufactured by man.

Another of the men, Tenlogh, had a weapon he had designed and made himself. In theory, it would chill the air in the direction so much that it would freeze the very molecules of ice in the air, much as an Ice Beam would. The trick, Tenlogh had told him, was not to hold down on the triggering switch too long, and freeze whoever you wanted knocked out of the way. You just wanted a blast long enough to send the target back, reeling and out of the battle. He was their sleeper in first class. In less than a minute, one of the stewardesses would be up here, and would assist Gentargh in holding that section of the plane.

The Business Class section of the plane, meanwhile, would be covered by no fewer than ten people, simply due to the fact that that was where most of the Pokemon trainers would be, considering the price of tickets.

Eltan had achieved the cockpit. “Open the door,” he whispered to the flight attendant, “And go through it.” The woman opened the door and stepped through. Eltan followed her, closed the door, and hit the back of her head with the butt of the pistol. “Don’t move,” he said, leveling the gun at the pilot, and locking the cockpit door with his other. “Or I will shoot you. Attempt to contact anyone outside of the plane, and you will die.” His eyes narrowed, “Believe me, I know how to use this. And I will not hesitate to do so, if it suits my purposes.”


Bugsy sighed and shook his head, “No,” he said quietly, “The training of Pokemon is not an inhumane indoctrinating practice set out by the governments of the world to surreptitiously raise an army for world domination. Trust me,” he said, groaning, “I’d know.”

Lorelei’s eyes glittered as she reveled in the debate, “Ah,” she said enthusiastically, “But what if that was part of their plan, and didn’t reveal it to you?” she demanded. “What if you’re just another pawn in the game of international conquest?”

Bugsy opened his mouth to reply, but then his eyes caught sight of something beyond Lorelei. He paled, and his eyes widened. Lorelei frowned and spun round, to see a man with some kind of heavy rifle shouting at everyone to remain in their seats.

In one smooth motion, Lorelei unbuckled herself and leapt on top of the man. She dropped off almost immediately and, ducking down, launched herself back up into the man, knocking the rifle away from him. Lorelei frowned, wishing that they weren’t in such close quarters so that she could roundhouse him. But they weren’t, so she’d have to make do.

The man was facing her now, and was swinging. He was large, and he was undoubtedly strong, but his punches were slow. Of course, if one ever connected, she’d probably be down for the count. Lorelei ducked away from the punches, barely aware of the turmoil the fight was creating, and brought her hand back to slam the butt of her heel into the man’s nose.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, something hard, heavy, and cold slammed into her back, driving her forward, and sending both of them sprawling. She rolled to get away, but she was too near the man, and one of his fists connected, sending her rolling off to her right. A roll that was quickly stopped by one of the seats.

Then there was nothing but an ever-increasing blackness that consumed her vision.


The men were ready for the raid of the Verin Retreat. There had been news that some high-level targets were coming in on a flight to the Retreat, and that they were to be held as hostages until Gertal was released. But Eltan had never really believed that Gertal would be given up. Lefar Verin wasn’t that kind of person. So he had personally handpicked two hundred of the finest Blizzard Special Operations humans, and assigned them to the task of taking back their honorable leader.

At whatever cost was necessary.

Eltan had left the tactics up to the commander of the force, a man named Fretin, to decide, and had focused all of his energies on the hijacking attempt. Fretin, meanwhile, formulated and plotted and planned. He had at his disposal over two hundred Pokemon. Among them were two Alakazams, three Machamps, and five Houndooms; as well as eighteen highly trained human specialists—ten snipers, five demolitionists, and three electronic ops men. Fretin was very proud of his elite force.

He had everything ready. All he needed was the signal.


Eltan smiled as he picked up a radio headset that he knew was connected to the radio. The pilots had done a professional job, from lowering altitude to below radar range, to changing course, to not even flinching when they had first seen his pistol. He was very impressed with them. Too bad they weren’t on his side.

Through the headset he had been given, he could speak with Lefar Verin, and thus negotiate the surrender of Gertal to his forces. True, he wasn’t expecting a lot, but he had to distract the Verin Retreat enough to throw it into chaos because of the hijacking. Then, of course, he would signal his men on the ground the opportunity to begin the attack, and Gertal would be free.

Lefar?” he asked, smiling as he looked down the barrel of the pistol at the pilot’s head, “This is Team Blizzard. We know that you have Gertal in your custody. We are in custody of Flight 5671 from Saffron to the Verin Retreat. I am aiming my gun at one of the pilots right now.”

He looked at the pilot, and from the reflection, saw the man grimace, before saying, “It’s true, sir. I’m sorry.”

A rather annoyed, yet still pompous voice came over the other end. “So am I. You know our policy, Blizzard. We don’t deal with terrorists. And for the last six months that is just what you nomads have been. Terrorists. Sorry, but no deal.”

Eltan smiled, things were going according to plan. “Lefar,” he said, knowing he sounded like things weren’t going the way that he wanted, “I’m warning you—“

“And I’m warning you.” The resorter interrupted, “That is an international flight. Don’t start a war that you can’t win.”

Eltan smiled, “Don't lose any sleep over that, Lefar. I never start things I can't finish. I assure you, I can handle whatever you throw at us. This is your last chance, Lefar. In today’s shipment of mail, there was a package from Blizzard Central. I know you have it. The tracking device in the package indicates it’s in one of your labs. In the package is a diskette. The diskette details how to release Gertal. Go get the instructions, and follow them now.”

The only thing that greeted Eltan was stony laughter. “You’re insane, you Blizzard cretin. There’s no way that we’ll release Gertal. The man founded a terrorist organization. There’s no way that we can let him out.”

The most powerful man on the plane smiled, and replied, “I’m sorry too. Because of this, one of the passengers will die. I’ll contact you in half an hour.”

He banged on the cockpit door three times. Four more knocks reassured him that everythign was well outside. He unlocked the door, and moved forward. He had been assured by previous knocks on the door that the rest of the plane was secure, so he had no worries about that.

The door opened, and the hulking Letvarin entered, waving his sub-machine gun menacingly. “We have a prisoner to kill,” Eltan said, cradling the headset in his hand, and grinning, “Do you have any suggestions?”

Letvarin nodded, wincing as his jaw popped. “Yes sir,” he said, and a devilish gleam appeared in his eyes. Eltan smiled with him, and tossed the headset containing the protesting Nuschantian onto a chair as he exited the room.




I’ve been told by several people that their favorite part of this chapter was the part where Lorelei swiped Bugsy’s money. I enjoyed writing that, and I do think that it’s one of the best parts of the chapter, if not the fic itself. In terms of humor, anyway.


In the next chapter, I will introduce you to Pokemon Mass Warfare, whose rules I have made entirely by myself.