=Author's Note= Now things are really starting to pick up for Ash and his motly crew. A new assassin's on his way, and an old enemy has decided to pay him a visit and ask a favor. But who, and what favor? What am I, the Answer Man? Read the fic! =Legal Disclaimer= I do not own Pokémon: I do not, true not, on a plane. I have not, own not on a train. I share not, care not with Vulpix. I haven't enough funds to buy a Twix. Get off my case and leave me be. Send your lawyers home, this fic be free. BadgeQuest: The America Chronicles #3 The HM Saga 02 The hills of America's Appalachian Mountains sprawled out like a rolling sea, a true example of the beauty that the industrialized nation still had to offer. Oceans of evergreens and pines swarmed the plains like immobile green soldiers of nature standing at the ready. A breathless sunset glowed golden and pink, cascading from peak to peak across the horizon as the day cried farewell to the sleepy mountain range. This was the stuff of the settings of great American novels. It was untainted by men or machines, with only Pokémon to bound within its lonesome trees and call it home. Romance, adventure, intrigue and mystery...it was all around, hidden under the guise of beauty and a thick pine scent. It was nature in its purest form, totally untouched. -Or rather, nearly untouched... The one spoiler for the rolling forest was a fairly large one, as well as potentially disastrous; looming overhead was the remains of an immense airship, caught in its own furious inferno, screaming its death throes as it plummeted towards the ground. The construction of the ship was not quite like anything the world had ever seen, with its twin aluminum helium tanks strapped to a long, flat passenger section tapering down to a rounded snub nose. The whole thing was painted dark midnight black with crimson trim, standing out on the bright sunset sky like a fiery black beacon of death. Ash Ketchum stood at one of the skyship's airlocks, holding on to his hat as he desperately thought of a way out of this mess. The trainer's eyes stung and watered with the harsh wind, thin air, and thick, blanketing smoke that assaulted his senses. All in all, it wasn't turning out to be one of his most favorite days. Behind him, his gaggle of friends kept watch behind them, very nearly succumbing to panic as Ash felt creeping into his own soul. Pikachu stared up at him from the metal grating that served as a deck, its eyes glimmering in the light of the flickering fires. Ash's mind raced furiously, taking stock of what had just happened. "Pika?" Pikachu tugged on his pant leg questioningly, looking over its tiny shoulder behind them. It knew what was after them, and was even less eager than Ash to face it. "Chaaa..." "ASH!" Misty had to practically yell in his ear to be heard above the skyship's final anguished screams. She abandoned all pretenses with him and grabbed his shoulder, meeting his eyes with her own. Fear met fear as the Mistress of Water locked her aqua-blue gaze with his golden amber eyes. "Ash, we have to get down! He's going to kill us!" Dixie, the stunning southern blonde who was the newest addition to the team, nodded her agreement, standing next to Misty and quaking with fear. "If he doesn't," Brock added in, "This over-gunned blimp will!" Before he could add anything else, a bullet ricocheted off of the wall right next to his head. "Crap!" He ducked, looking out in the corridor beyond the airlock, trying to find the source of the bullet. Even as he looked, though, Brock knew full well who had shot at them. Delta lowered his gun, swearing and putting in a fresh clip. He was a man of average height, with close-cropped blonde hair and aqua blue eyes, wearing a black jumpsuit with a crimson 'R' emblazoned right over his heart. From head to foot, the man was covered with guns and ammo clips of every variety. Even though he had only entered their lives a matter of hours before, the teens and their Pokémon had quickly grown to fear him and despise him. As Delta tossed the used clip aside, his fingers failed him and dropped the new clip to the metal deck beneath his feet. He cursed again and bent down to pick it up. Jessie, James, and Meowth stood behind the assassin, holding their own favorite armaments. If Ash had any previous doubts that the terrible three would haunt him for the rest of his life, they had now been washed away by the afterburner- driven freeze rockets that they were aiming at them now. "Fire da Freeze Blasts!" Meowth screeched, throwing a clawed finger in their direction. Together, all three discharged their shoulder-mounted launchers, jerking with the recoil. It would have been a beautiful shot had they opted to hold the guns with the muzzle pointing in the correct direction. Instead, their shots flew down the corridor behind them and smashed into what remained of the engine room, sending an icy blast through the back half of the ship that froze everything in its place. The frozen shells helped to calm the fire for only a moment before it roared back to life, stronger than ever. "Nuts..." James said as he stared down the barrel of his bazooka, looking for more ammo. "That was my last one." A deadly 'click' sent his blood running icy cold as he felt his finger accidentally press down the muzzle is face was half-buried in. He managed to jerk his head out of the way before another shot that would have taken his head off ripped out of the muzzle of his launcher, smashing into the roof above them. The steel ceiling became as brittle as dried clay under the sting of the harsh, icy chemicals and smashed apart under the strain, collapsing onto the Rocket trio. "Nope..." James' muffled voice emerged from the debris, "I had one left." 'All right, Ketchum,' Ash gave himself a pep-talk, 'Now's the time when you think of something brilliant.' He looked out at the open hatch, then at his friends, then at Delta and the buried Rockets, and finally out the hatch again. In a flash, he knew what he had to do, though he didn't like it any more than he knew the others would. "Okay!" Ash shouted to his friends as Delta reloaded, "I have a plan." "What's-huh?" Misty was about to ask him when he grabbed her and shoved her out the airlock. "AAAAAAAAAAA!" He cringed, hearing her scream fade quickly as she fell towards the earth. "Man, I'm gonna be paying for this one later..." he muttered. Brock's eyes nearly went wide as he wondered, if only for a second, if Ash had gone insane, or just had enough of Misty's teasing and nagging. Ash's gaze locked with his, though, and he realized the young boy's plans. He grabbed Dixie and leapt out of the ship before the southern belle could even cry out. She did plenty of that on the way down, however, as loudly as her lungs would allow. As Ash scooped up Pikachu off of the metal deck he took one last look back at Delta. The lone gunman was taking aim at Ash's head with his custom-made weapon of choice. "Now you die, Ketchum." He snarled in a rough, grating voice. His finger twitched ever so slightly on the trigger before he could force it back under control. He wanted to savor this moment. "Maybe later." Ash took a step backwards, dropping out of the airlock and out of Delta's sights. The assassin cursed loudly, holstering his pistol with a violent shove as he sprinted for the escape pod. The boy had escaped this time, but he wouldn't get away their next encounter. He promised himself, even as his beloved airship was crumbling around him, that Ash Ketchum would die by his hand and his hand alone. Still, he had to admit silently that the boy was good. He even had guts to match. Guts and skill would not save him, though. Not by a long shot. * * * With a little fancy streamlining and a lot of luck, Ash managed to catch up to his friends as they plummeted towards the mix of emerald evergreens and dusty red mountains with Pikachu clinging desperately to his black Silph jacket. As soon as they had reached each other, they all went spread-eagle to slow their fall, buying a little extra time. "I'm going to assume that you didn't just shove us all out of that oversized blimp just for kicks!" Misty had to shout just to hear her own voice over the roar of the rushing air around them. "Tell me you had another part to this plan!" Her biting sarcasm did a poor job of hiding the panic that now poured into her voice and danced in her watering eyes. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he answered, "When we got on the airship, I figured we might have to do something like this, so I used Gear's RTS to get a few Poké-chutes for us!" Ash silently gave thanks to Professor Oak and his Remote Transport System. The prototype satellite linkup that allowed him to access his transport-ready Pokémon anywhere on the planet may have just saved their lives. The luck of having his flying team on hand back at the Oak Institute was nothing short of astonishing, either. "Stop jawin' and start throwin'!" Dixie screamed. The ground loomed below them, and it was only getting larger by the second. "Right!" Pulling one of his Pokéballs off of his belt, he clicked the release and tossed it out to the side. "Articuno!" On command, the legendary Ice Bird was produced from the channel of brilliant energy with a frosty shriek. "Articuno, grab Dixie and take her down to the ground...gently!" The gigantic ice bird nodded, grasping the blonde in its talons and spreading its majestic wingspan. The titan seemed to fly upwards as its speed dropped enormously, leaving Ash, Misty, Brock, and Pikachu to fall at their ever-increasing velocity. "You're next, Brock!" Ash produced a second ball and activated it. This time, though, it was a switch in the opposite direction of Articuno; "Charizard!" Ash commanded as the fiery dragon re-materialized, "Grab Brock and follow Articuno!" "What?" Brock cried out in fear as Charizard snarled, grabbing the rocky trainer in its powerful arms and unfurling its leathery wings. "Aaaaaasssssshhhhh! I'll get you for this!" his cry rang out as he was 'lifted' skyward, closely tailing Dixie and Articuno. The ground kept coming closer and closer, and Misty (being the sharp cookie she is) noticed that right away. "Uh, how about speeding things up?" she shouted. In response, Ash tossed a Pokéball practically on top of her. With a flash and a pop, a large Fearow exploded from the ball and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders with its razor-sharp talons. "Hey!" she shrieked as the bird slowed their descent. Lucky for Misty, it wasn't the Fearow that Ash and Pidgeot had battled against all those years ago. This one Ash had captured on one of his many trips around the Island, and was a bit more even-tempered. Ash grinned at Pikachu. "Looks like that just leaves you and me on Pidgeot, Pika-pal!" Pikachu gave him a claws-up and clamped down on his shoulder with its daggerlike nails. With the individual trees of the forest now clearly in sight, the yellow Pokémon was more than ready to land...safely! Taking a deep breath, Ash took Pidgeot's ball off his belt and clicked the release mechanism, holding onto the ball and letting it eject right below him. "Pidgeot, take us down!" Pidgeot re-formed from the energy, cutting its wings into the torrents of wind rushing up at it. The gigantic battle bird hadn't been expecting this sudden release. Nor had it expected Ash and Pikachu to land heavily on its back, as they did an instant after it was released. "Jyooooo!" It screeched, wobbling unsteadily with the extra weight. "Jyo, jyot-ot!" Pidgeot began spinning and looping, heading down at an alarming rate towards the forest of pine. "Pidgeot!" Ash grabbed twin fistfuls of feathers, trying to keep his airborne steed underneath him. "Calm down, or we're gonna crash!" And that's just what they did, flying straight into the midst of the trees at top speed. Pidgeot, for its part, was able to dodge most of the branches, breaking through the small ones and nimbly avoiding the thick trunks and boughs. Spinning and juking with uncanny dexterity, Pidgeot managed to make it through the sea of trees and at last come out into a small clearing. The Flying type spread its wings wide in a braking maneuver, coming to a gentle rest in the middle of the clearing. Trilling happily, it waited for Ash to praise it with a pat on the head, or a "Great job, Pidgeot!" There wasn't a sound. "Jyo?" Pidgeot craned its neck, trying to see what the problem was. It was a little more than surprised to find that Ash wasn't even on its back. "Jyo!" A moment later, its sensitive ears picked up a pair of moaning voices from inside the forest, somewhere high off of the ground. "Jyoooohhhhh..." Pidgeot tooted sadly. There would be heck to pay for this one..." * * * "Ohhhhh..." Ash moaned in agony, lying a few feet from the freshly built fire and clutching his ribs. "Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow...ow." he grumbled, thrashing on top of his sleeping bag, his chest bare and bruised to a beautiful black and blue. Misty hmmfed, applying more tape to his ribs in an attempt to patch him up. "I don't think you have any right to complain, considering how lucky you are we found you." She gave him a wink and a small smile, pressing the adhesive down on his chest. "After all, how many friends would think to look for you twenty feet off of the ground?" She finished, patting the last of the tape with a little extra push. "OW!" He winced, crying out in pain. After Pidgeot had flown them into the forest, he and Pikachu had been caught on a branch that the Flying type had simply flown under. Pikachu had used its super-agility to escape harm. Ash, on the other hand, had been a little less fortunate... "There. All done. Anything else you need?" Misty asked him. Ash grinned devilishly. "Kiss it and make it better?" He asked wryly. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. Instead of kissing him, Misty thwapped him upside the head. "Ow! Hey!" "Don't expect me to tape *that* one, Ash." she snorted, grinning. He responded by poking her in the ribs, getting a satisfying jump and a squeal out of her. "Oh, so you want to play it that way, do you?" She jabbed him lightly in his own ribs, which still throbbed from the crash landing. "OW!" he cried out. "You play too hard!" He squirmed and moaned, feigning her out of position. While she was off-balance trying to see whether or not he was all right, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her to the ground, rolling on top of her. "Ha! Gotcha, you little twerp." "Ash, cut it out!" Misty whined, trying to break his iron grip on her shoulders. He rolled his eyes, snorting. "C'mon, Misty, stop fighting like a girl." "Okay." She brought her fist straight into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Then, with an uncanny amount of strength, she shoved his body up off of hers and let it drop onto the hard, dusty ground. Before he could recover, she started to get him into a wrestling hold. "How's that?" she asked Pikachu, who had been observing the fight. Pikachu hopped over, laughing at its trainer as its face began to turn different colors with effort against the unbreakable joint lock. "No fair! No fair!" Ash cried out as Misty attempted to bend his legs into fleshy Ash-pretzels. His outstretched hand reached out for Brock and Dixie, who were sitting next to the campfire they had built the small wooded clearing. The spot was a choice location for camping out; the fuzzy firs and prickly pines gave them ample cover from the wind, but would allow them a fantastic view of the night sky come darkness. Brock labored over one of his collapsible pots, trying to put together a nice, easy meal after their ordeal with Team Rocket and their airship of doom. Dixie sat next to him, getting several dishes of Pokéchow ready for their Pokémon. "You're doing fine, Ash." Brock called out, never taking his slitted eyes off of the stew. "Just remember, pain is all in the mind." Misty bent his leg another quarter of an inch the wrong way. "OW!" "All in your mind." Brock repeated, trying to ignore Ash's howling. He tossed another onion into the mix, stirring and tasting with his trusted, treasured ladle. "Mmmm. Not enough oregano." "What is oregano?" Dixie asked, staring into the mix with a little hesitation. She had spent the past four months with them, and had figured out pretty quickly that Brock's cooking was a hit-or-miss prospect. Some of his dishes she had enjoyed overwhelmingly...others had simply overwhelmed her, period. "I don't know." he admitted, "But I'm pretty sure it would make this taste better." With a mischievous look in his eye, he raised his voice as he said, "Maybe I'll just throw a few carrots into the mix." That got Misty's attention. She stopped playing the amateur chiropractor on Ash's spine and snapped her head around, glaring at Brock with venom seeping from her icy blue eyes. "I HATE carrots!" Unfortunately, her moment culinary declaration was all Ash needed to wriggle free of her grasp. With a maniacal 'banzai!' he threw himself on top of her, trying to pin her to the ground. They rolled across the field together, laughing and crying out whenever one jabbed the other too hard. Pikachu chased after them, acting as half-referee and half- peanut gallery. Brock chuckled, shaking his head at the young pair as he continued to stir the pot of ingredients. With his twentieth birthday looming somewhere on the not-too-distant horizon, he sometimes worried that he might outgrow these kinds of adventures, or that he might outgrow his younger friends. Those moments were few and far between, though. Adventures were his life, and Ash and Misty were his friends. Age didn't matter. "It never fails." he commented to himself, tasting the concoction again. Dixie watched the pair rolling and laughing. She carefully squashed the glint of envy growing in her eyes, remembering a pair of friends from her past must like these friends and the way they used to get along. "Man," she commented, watching as Misty finally got Ash into another pin. He tried to get out of it by tickling her, but the attempt only got him a knee in his wounded ribs. "Those two are someth'n else. Are they...uh..." she scratched the back of her neck with embarrassment, hesitant to finish the question. "Are they goin' out, or...?" "They did." Brock winced as he burnt his mouth on the hot taste of stew he had in the ladle. Blowing on it to cool it down, he popped the mouthful in and winced again, this time at the taste rather than the temperature. "Oh." He looked over at her, his stew momentarily forgotten. "Why? You-" he stopped, getting a wry look on his face. "You don't have a crush on..." "What? NO!" she blushed bright red. She took another look over at the pair, who were starting to run out of steam, but not out of curses and playful insults. "Wellll," she drawled, her blush growing even brighter, "I dunno." "You do!" Brock nudged her. "It's okay," he said nonchalantly, patting her on the shoulder. "Plenty of people have had a crush on Misty before. You shouldn't be embarrassed." "BROCK!" she shrieked, slapping him on the shoulder as he busted out in laughter. "On Ash, stupid!" She sighed, watching Ash grapple with Misty as if she were his worst enemy, yet laugh and smile at her as if he were his one reason for being. She didn't dare hope she could have something like that again...did she? Even in the short time she had known him, Ash had never ceased to amaze her; he had sworn to collect all the badges in America in a single year, and he was well on his way to doing it. In just four months, he had managed to collect thirty-four new badges, cleaning out the entirety of New England. He and his Pokémon had managed better than two gyms a week without any sign of slowing. She had never been on so many cheap-seat busses and discount trains in her life! "Do you...naw, he'd never go for it! Would he?" she stared wistfully at the very heart of her question, studying his laughing amber eyes and the dark birthmarks that underscored them on each cheek. Brock froze for a moment, contemplating the question. Dixie put him in a difficult position. If he said no, then he ran the risk of shattering Dixie's hopes. On the other hand, if he said yes, it could lead to a whole slew of romantic problems, and he wasn't sure if he had the energy to deal with a teenage love triangle. On the *other* other hand, if he said "I don't know", he ran the risk of being asked additional, possibly more annoying questions by Dixie. In the end, he chose the best answer that made them all happy. "Dinner's ready!" he called out, retrieving several dishes from their packs and dipping his ladle into the pot. "Oh boy, dinner!" Misty got up, leaving a bruised and battered Ash to haul himself back to his feet. Pikachu tried to help, but only ended up being squished, used as a prop for Ash to struggle up on. "Last one there's a rotten Exeggcute!" Naturally, with Ash's ailing ribs and the fresh beating he had taken from the fiery redhead, Misty was first to the dinner cauldron. Ash limped in with Pikachu at his heel, both of their mouths salivating with the smell of dinner. "Wha'cha call this one, Brock?" Ash asked, pulling out his collapsible bowl and plastic camp spork. "I call this one 'Tortured Genius Without Ingredients'...sans oregano, of course." he grinned, dishing up his own bowl. After they had all dished up and released their Pokémon to their Pokéchow, the four teenagers dug in to Brock's stew, with Brock taking the first bite. As he was the first to begin, he was also the first to spit the horrendous stew off to the side, though not by much. They sputtered and gagged, trying to get the taste out of their collective mouths. "Oh MAN!" Ash coughed, pounding on his chest. "That stuff was like old congealed motor oil..." "With a hint of tar and grease." Misty added, scraping her tongue with her own spork and spitting what was left in her mouth out onto the ground. "Oh God, Brock. Just...oh God." She felt like putting her tongue in the fire, just so it could never go through the agony of tasting something like that again. "That's it. Tomorrow I'm doing all the cooking." Ash thought back to the last time that Misty had tried to cook. Most of had thankfully been reduced to a blur over the years, but he distinctly recalled losing two pots, a perfectly good prepackaged Farfetch'd dinner, three spoons, the day's previous meal, and about twenty dollars in over-the-counter stomach medicine. "I don't know if we need to be *that* drastic..." he drawled. "Pika..." Pikachu shuddered, suppressing the chills it got whenever it thought of the sight of that horrible Farfetch'd in the scorched black pot. "Cha..." "Jerks." Misty grumbled. Dixie saw the tension building, and decided to try and change the subject. "Hey, if everything goes well, we won't have to worry about tomorrow's dinner anyhow! We're just a little ways from Swoop's compound as the Pidgey flies, so it shouldn't take us more'n a half-day to get there." "You sure this swoop guy has the next HM?" Brock asked, picking up the cauldron with mitted hands. The Rock Master intended on dumping the failed culinary concoction at a safe distance from their sleeping bags. 'Maybe I should bury it...' he mused, hefting the pot off of its perch above the fire. Dixie nodded, pulling out the Itemfinder and strapping it on. "Mm-hmm." She intoned, activating the prototype locator and tuning it into the HM's settings. "Hidden Machine Oh-Two, I think. Like I thought, it ain't too far from here, at Swoop's compound." "Why does a research assistant have a compound out in the middle of nowhere, anyway?" Ash asked, pulling out a Camper's Choice Nutra-Bar and peeling away the wrapper. He was just about to take a big bite, but stopped as he noticed Pikachu salivating at his feet with wobbly eyes as wide as saucers. With a defeated sigh, he broke the bar in half and put part of the bar straight into the greedy claws of the tiny Pokémon, who began cramming the meal-in-a-bar between its tiny fangs. Somehow, Ash had never been able to resist Pikachu's "goo-goo eyes", probably because the Pokémon had learned it from him whenever he had tried to mooch money off of his mom. It never failed on her, either. "Something your grandfather sponsored?" "Nothin' of granddad's." Dixie felt a small twinge of sadness slip through her defenses at the mentioning of her late grandfather. "Naw, I remember when Swoop left to go out on his own. Wanted to get away from it all, so he built this big ol' place out here in the mountains. It's real tranquil, from what grampa told me." She chased away the fleeting pangs of depression, forcing her mind out of the past and back into the present. "I'm sure he won't mind us dropping in. Swoop's a real stand-up guy." "Well," Ash crunched thoughtfully on the bland bar, "With Team Rocket out of the way for a while, I don't see any reason why this won't be a cakewalk." He grinned. "We can't fail!" * * * "You failed." Delta gulped silently, hoping that his anxiety wasn't too obvious to the person on the other end of the communication. Steadying the hand that held his field comm unit, he started lamely, "Omega, it wasn't like that. I've just experienced a...small delay, nothing more." Omega glared at him, obviously fuming beneath his cool exterior, obviously trying to hide it, and obviously not succeeding. "You underestimated him." It wasn't a question, or even an accusation. It was merely a statement, one that happened to be bang-on correct. "Not only that, but you lost a very valuable airship worth millions." "I...Perhaps I did underestimate him, if only a little." Delta offered. "Still, I did just as you ordered; I was prepared to kill a Pokémon trainer." "And...?" "And that wasn't what I encountered!" Delta shot back, letting his annoyance get the better of him. "The boy is something else, Omega! None of my shots landed, none of my traps worked, and none of my attacks got through. I'm finally starting to see why Alpha had so-" "ENOUGH!" Omega silenced him angrily, his temper finally breaking. With a small sigh, he brushed back several rogue locks of auburn hair out of his eyes and evened out his temperament. "Alpha's performance is of no consequence to you at the moment. I don't want excuses, I don't want delays. Bring me the head of Ashlan Ketchum within forty-eight hours." There was a definite 'or else' hanging on the end of that order. With one final, meaningful glance, Omega cut the communication linking the two assassins, leaving Delta to sigh with relief and lean against the grassy hill behind him. "Wow..." came a high-pitched, obnoxious voice from behind him, "Dat guy doesn't seem like a real friendly fellow." He whirled upon the first tones of the voice, his gun drawn in mid-turn and aimed at the source of the words by the time he had moved a full one-eighty degrees. Meowth found himself staring down the barrel of one of Delta's custom made weapons, and gulped in fear. "Sorry...didn't mean ta sneak up on ya." He explained lamely. Jessie and James stood at his side, arms up in the air and knees quaking in terror of the gun that Delta held. Delta lowered the pistol, groaning. "You're alive." he grunted, holstering the weapon and rising to his feet. "I didn't think you made it out of the airship before it exploded." "We didn't." James warbled, his arms still in the air after the terrifying shock of being in Delta's sights. "We just have a knack for surviving those kinds of things." Jessie added helpfully. Delta began scouting the area for a suitable camp sight. "It doesn't matter. Get some rest and report to me at sunrise. Tomorrow," he promised not only the three Rockets, but himself as well, "We're going to find those four, and when we do, there won't be enough left of them to fill a teaspoon." He stalked off in a huff, his hand absently slapping against the gun holstered at his hip. "James, make a note..." Jessie trembled, still remaining motionless, "Don't sneak up on a trained assassin." He whimpered. "I'd love to, but first I think I need to change my shorts..." * * * "Oh my God..." Dixie murmured in horror, her field pack slipping off of her shoulders as they sagged under the new weight of hopelessness that she felt spreading through her body. They had seen the smoke from miles away this morning, and so had quickened their pace in order to investigate. 'Maybe they're just having a big barbecue.' Brock had joked with trepidation. He had been right...it was a humongous, hideous barbecue that had enveloped the entirety of Swoop's compound, spreading out from the main cluster of tiny wooden structures in the center to the outer walls set up to ward off wild Pokémon and unwanted guests. The fires that had once blazed now smoldered, their life drained and fuel mostly spent. As nearly as Dixie could figure, Swoop's compound resembled something like the old time forts and trading posts that had existed along the frontier in the early days of pioneering. Those days of exploration were gone, but the dangers were not, as the fire clearly attested. "Not really peaceful anymore, is it?" Misty couldn't help but comment as they stepped through the remains of the log gate, which now hung off of broken hinges. "Not much of a compound anymore, either." Ash answered, keeping a close eye on Pikachu as they picked their way through the rubble towards the central buildings. Deep inside, he secretly mourned for Dixie; the girl had already had so much tragedy in her life, she didn't need anything like this happening to her now or anytime later. "Pikachu, you smell anything?" Pikachu sniffed the air, trying to pick up a scent. All of a sudden, the hairs on its back stood up, and it began growling fiercely. "What is it?" Dixie asked, looking at the usually cuddly Pikachu, who now appeared as ferocious and feral as any wild Pokémon she had ever seen. "Trouble." Ash muttered, scanning the compound with his eyes. Ahead, Brock waved to them as he jogged up to the main building in the compound. He had run ahead, overcoming the shock of seeing a once peaceful retreat in such condition quickly and instead tapping into his natural curiosity. The Rock trainer cautiously opened the door to the main building. From inside, the building first looked to be an office of sorts, one that had clearly been ransacked, with papers scattered everywhere and filing cabinets tipped over, their contents spilling more papers onto the already-cluttered floor. Taking a second glance, though, Brock saw more personal touches; several bookcases lined the far wall, now devoid of the books that had been ripped from their shelves. A large bay window let sight stream into the otherwise dark room, almost like a sideways skylight. "Looks like someone tore the inside up," Brock called back to his friends before entering the room, "Almost as bad as the outside..." he muttered. Gingerly, he worked his way across the area, picking his way through the debris. He wasn't certain what it was he was looking for in the wreck, but he knew it when he found it. "Hey guys!" he yelled excitedly to his younger friends, "Guys, come quick! I found someone!" Buried underneath one of the overturned bookcases was an aging man of what looked to be about fifty or sixty years old, wearing a tattered sweater and an old pair of aviator goggles on his forehead. The old man was somewhere between unconscious and wake, emitting several moans as he shifted ever so slightly beneath his entrapment. Brock rushed forward, trying to lift the bookcase with a low grunt. All he got for his efforts were nothing, with a pulled muscle in his back generously added. Ash, Misty, Dixie, and Pikachu rushed through the door, spying Brock and coming to his aid quickly. Soon, they had lifted the bookshelves off of the old timer and extracted him from the mess. "Swoop..." Dixie patted the man's cheek gently, trying to wake him up. "Swoop! C'mon, you old coot, wake up. It's me; It's Dixie, remember?" She shook the groaning, wizen man. "C'mon!" "Dixie, tone it down and switch to Decaf!" Brock pulled her away from Swoop before she could hurt him more than he already was. He began to examine Swoop, patting him down and feeling for broken bones. "Hmm...he seems okay," he muttered, "But I can't be...huh?" His hand bumped into something hard, flat, and flexible as he brushed the older man's shirt pocket. Curious, he pulled out what appeared to be a mini-disk, the kind used for recording and data storage. "What's this?" "I..." Swoop's cracked lips parted for a moment. He began to moan and thrash weakly, as if fevered. "I...Island." he groaned softly. "What island, Swoop?" Dixie asked anxiously, pushing Brock out of the way and leaning in close to Swoop's face. "Pokémon Island? Give me something to go on, old timer!" she pleaded. "I...Island...flying..." "Island...flying?" Dixie repeated slowly. Swoop's eyes flew open. He sat up with a start, his gaze unfocused and mind ablaze. "Flying island!" he screamed. "Get away, get away, get away!" With that, he fainted dead away, thumping against the floor. "Hey guys!" Misty called over from the opposite side of the room. She stood in front of the closet door, smirking smugly, as if she kept a secret that no one else had. "Guess what I found." With a grand flourish, she swung the closet wide open, allowing the bound and gagged forms of Mr. Shades and Mr. Spike to fall out of the crowded space. They wriggled on the ground, trying to untangle themselves from each other as they struggle against the rope that trapped their arms and legs. "You two!" Dixie accused angrily, crossing the room in a few furious strides. She kicked Spike, receiving a satisfying, muffled scream from the mercenary as her foot planted into his stomach. "Y'all did this to poor Swoop, didn't you? A poor old man who wouldn't harm a soul and you ransacked his place! Y'aught to be ashamed!" She kicked Shades next, sneering with contempt. "Dix," Ash's hand curled into a fist as the growing ball of tension and fear settled in his stomach, "They didn't do this...how could they have, they were locked up in the closet." "Who did?" She kicked each of the terrorists once more for good measure, then looked to Ash with a questioning gaze. He took the mini-disk from Brock, pulling out Dexter. "I've only known one person who uses a flying island." he muttered. * * * Lawrence III, the Collector. The wispy, tall, imposing figure stood a mere four inches tall on top of Dexter, produced from the ether by the Pokédex's holoprojection unit. He was just as Ash remembered him; whitish-blonde hair crowning a face that was smug, as well as cold and calculating. His frame was powerfully built, especially for a man who sat at a control panel nearly every time Ash encountered him. Even as a pre-recorded message, his eyes sent shivers down Ash's spine. Pikachu, upon seeing the image pop out of Dexter, began to hiss and snarl. "PIKA!" "Oh my God..." Misty murmured, her hand flying to her mouth in fear. "I thought we had seen the last of him three years back...Wasn't he killed at Cerulean?" "I guess not even a psychic blast the size of a small city was enough to take him out." Brock gritted his teeth, recalling the last time they had encountered the terror from the sky and his insane idea of finding the Unknown Dungeon. "What does he want this time? We don't know where Mewtwo is..." "Greetings, Mr. Ketchum." the image began to speak, as if responding to Brock's inquiry. "No doubt you are wondering as to how I survived our last encounter. I can assure you that this is no message from the grave, despite Mewtwo's best efforts. I have gone at great lengths to track you and your friends down, Mr. Ketchum, so please listen well." "Who is this guy?" Dixie asked. She was more confused than ever, now. Instead of an answer, though, she received a shushing from the rest of them, even Pikachu. "Well so-rry." she sniffed. "I know what it is you are after." the image of Lawrence held up a small, plain looking chip, one that closely resembled a TM chip. "During my brief 'visit' with your friend here, I acquired HM Oh-Two. I believe that it was this you were after. Therefore, I propose a deal; I will give you the chip, and all I require of you is that you come...alone. No doubt you are playing this in that highly capable Pokédex of yours. Embedded within the disk's program, it will find a series of coordinates. I will await you there until midnight, though I hope you will have the good taste to arrive sooner. Until then." the image of Lawrence flickered, then snapped out of existence with one last flash of light, leaving the three teenagers and their Pokémon pika-partner. "I don't get it..." Dixie started slowly, assuming that it was all right to speak now that the recording had stopped. She tried to break through the others' pensive mood as they just stood there, soaking in what the strange message had told them. "Who's this guy? And why does he want my grampa's prototypes?" Ash shook his head. He popped the disk out of Dexter's reader port. "Dexter, do you have the coordinates?" he asked the palmtop database. "It's all in the ol' noggin, Ash." Dexter responded, flashing a two dimensional map on his screen. "But I think he might have set the deadline a wee too soon. It's at least a day's hike from here...assuming you're crazy enough to try and take him on..." the Pokédex trailed off, already knowing what Ash intended to do. "I don't plan on walking." Ash muttered. He pulled a link cable from his jacket's pocket, then proceeded to download the directions from Dexter into his Pokégear. After doing that, he disconnected Dexter and handed him off to Misty. "Here," he instructed her, "Take Dex...and these." With only a moment of torn hesitation, Ash unstrapped his Pokébelt and handed that to her as well. He glanced down at Pikachu, meeting the Pokémon's eyes for only a moment. Pikachu nodded back at him, then leapt up on his shoulder, steadying itself with a paw on his reversed hat. "Hold on, cowboy." Misty shifted the things Ash had handed her to free one of her own hands, and placed it on his non-Pikachu'ed shoulder. "Dexter's right...for once...We would have to be out of your right mind to take Lawrence on." "*We* aren't doing anything." Ash reached forward, plucking one of the Pokéballs off of the belt before Misty could stop him. He then turned to leave the building, but was halted again by Misty's hand on his shoulder. "Ash, you aren't doing this alone." Brock told him flatly, taking a stance next to Misty with his arms folded defiantly across his chest. Ash turned around, which actually surprised both of his old friends. "Look, we're in this together. If you go, then we all go." Ash sighed heavily, callously brushing Misty's hand away. "Look, we don't have time for this. Lawrence doesn't give a Pidgey's droppings about the Hidden Machines. He's just using them as bait, and it's fairly obvious that I'm the target." He clenched the Pokéball tightly in his hand, nearly crushing the marble-sized piece of technological wonderment. "Whatever he has planned, I'm going to stop it. I'll stop him once and for all...just like I should have when I had the chance." With that, he walked outside wordlessly. In a handful of heartbeats, Ash expanded and activated the ball, releasing Pidgeot onto the ground. Brock, Misty, and Dixie followed out the door, watching as Ash and Pikachu mounted the aerial steed. They couldn't help but notice that Ash couldn't do so without a modicum of pain; his ribs, though taped, were still sore and very susceptible. Reaching back into his pack, Ash pulled out a pair of flight goggles. One of them, the normal-sized one, he strapped to his own head, snapping the elastic band around his hat so it wouldn't blow off. The miniaturized pair he slipped onto Pikachu, being careful not to put them on too tight. "If I'm not back by tomorrow..." he trailed off, not quite knowing what to say. "We'll wait some more." Misty called out to him. Brock looked to Pidgeot, then to the rodent clinging to its back. "You two make sure he doesn't do anything *really* stupid, understand?" he told the pair of Pokémon. "Jyo!" "Chu..." Leaving the rest unsaid, Ash pressed his heels softly into Pidgeot's midsection, signaling it to take off. With a burst from its powerful wings, the bird/steed shot into the sky with a jolt, jarring Ash's ribs painfully as the trio flew unsteadily into the air. At around a hundred feet or so, Pidgeot leveled them off and began to soar over the landscape, taking directions from Ash, who was taking directions from Gear. Misty sighed, her posture slumping noticeably as she slung the Pokébelt over her shoulder. "I hate it when he goes on these crusades without us." she kicked a random piece of debris, hoping to work out some of the frustration. The tension in her soul remained, though, joined by a new, throbbing pain in her foot. "This sucks." "Yeah..." Brock stuck his hands into his pockets, letting his gaze dip towards the ground. "Guess we'll just have to wait here 'til Ash gets back or gets killed." He and Misty shared a knowing look, then burst out laughing. Dixie could only stare at the two as they laughed uncontrollably, her confusion multiplying. "Oh man, that was funny!" Brock giggled, wiping a tear from his slitted eye. "Yeah." Misty wiped away her own tears, growing serious. "Now, how are we going to follow him?" "I have just the thing." Brock pulled a Pokéball from his belt and activated the release, then tossed it as far as he could. With an enormous explosion of light, his Onix took the center stage of the compound, roaring and raising its head high into the sky. "Welcome to the Onix Express." He jogged over, scrambling onto the segmented snake, letting his legs dangle over the side. "My name is Brock, and I'll be your driver for the evening. Please climb aboard, and secure all luggage before departure." Quick as a wink, he helped the two girls up onto Onix, then gave it a hardy slap on one of its boulders. "Onix, Pidgeot took off in that direction...get moving, and don't skimp on the speed!" "How're we gonna follow him?" Dixie asked. She was growing very weary of asking questions that went unanswered, and hoped for her friends' sake that one of them chose to respond. Misty grinned, pulling out Ash's Pokédex and flipping it back on. "Well," she mused innocently, "It just so happens that someone gave me this to hold on to. Dexter:" she talked to the Pokédex sternly, "Can you get a lock on Gear's transmitter?" "Can your Psyduck screw up even the easiest battle?" Dexter responded smugly. Without any more smart comments, he displayed Gear's geographic progress as the watch-like Pokégear rode on Ash's wrist. They're moving a lot faster than us, but we won't lose track of them. Besides, I still have the original coordinates, so we shouldn't even need to track them at all." "Maybe so," Misty said, "But if Lawrence has proven anything in the past, it's that he doesn't always follow the rules, even the ones he sets." "So just who *is* this guy you guys are so afraid of?" Dixie stamped her foot down on Onix, nearly loosing her footing as the enormous Pokémon continued its fast trek across the wooded terrain. Only Brock's quick hand steadied her, keeping her on top of the rock snake rather than under it. "What's he done to you guys?" Misty gave Brock an ironclad glance, one that seemed to say 'You tell her.' He sighed heavily, wondering where to begin. "It all started five years ago, out in the Orange Archipelago..." * * * "Alone its song will fail..." Ash's mind wandered through his own past as their target came into sight. It had taken several hours of flight, but they had managed to make it with plenty of time to spare. The sun was only now beginning to dip below the horizon, sending a splash of reds, yellows, and violets across the evening sky. "Thus the earth shall turn to Ash..." He had always wondered why the foreboding inscriptions were so literal. "Nearly five years later," he spoke aloud, "And now it turns to me again." Pikachu looked up at its trainer from where it was safely nestled between his legs, which straddled Pidgeot. "Pika?" Pikachu never liked it when Ash began to talk to himself; it usually meant that trouble was brewing, the kind of trouble that often led to a ferocious battle. "Pika. Pi, pika-cha, cha pikachu pika, pikachu." "No, Pikachu," Ash assured him, "I'm all right. I'm not alone this time; I have you and Pidgeot." He rubbed the bird's head absently, his mind briefly flittering to his injured ribs within his warm Silph jacket. 'I just hope Pidgeot doesn't choke again...' he couldn't help but think, 'I don't know if I'd survive it.' "Jyo!" Pidgeot's shrill cry brought him back to reality. He turned his eyes forward, taking a good look at what lay ahead. It was hard to miss: An enormous fortress hanging in the sky, held aloft by dozens upon dozens of rotating props that covered the top and bottom of the steel island. A majority of the structure was composed of nothing more than girders, practically uninhabitable, leaving only a small section in the middle that Lawrence used for his operations. It was a *large* small section, though, and Ash knew all too well that the girders themselves held deadly weapons of their own, hidden within the maze of steel and rivets. The island had its running lights blazing, lighting up several key points on the structure in the twilight sky for observers to see. "Take us in, Pidgeot, as fast as you can." Ash held on tightly, gritting his teeth and squinting behind his goggles. Supersonic speeds were no problem for Pidgeot, he knew, but he also knew that his feathery pilot had trouble maneuvering with a pair of passengers. The bird heeded, slamming its wings back and accelerating rapidly, nearly throwing Ash and Pikachu off in the process. The island continued to grow in their collective perspectives. "My God..." Ash murmured, "It has to be a half-mile wide..." It was obvious that Lawrence had done some serious shopping since their last encounter at Cerulean City. "At least he got a good trade-in for the old one, huh, Pikachu?" "Pika!" Pikachu snarled viciously, sparking at the cheeks. Ash couldn't blame his Pokémon; after all the horrible things Lawrence had done to them, he was itching to get a piece of the collector himself. They were now within relative spitting distance of the island. Ash could feel the backwash from the gigantic props interfering with Pidgeot's flight, making the bird shake and tremble a bit as it tried to compensate. *Ah, Mr. Ketchum...* a booming, static-filled voice startled Ash, nearly jarring him off of Pidgeot and sending him plummeting to an untimely death. *I'm so glad you decided to take me up on my offer. Please, come in.* With a loud whirring of hidden gears and motors, a small hatch on the side of the inner section of the island opened up, revealing a landing bay of sorts to the outside world. Ash scowled. He was no fool (most of the time), and knew a trap when he saw one. "How about you come out here, Lawrence?" he shouted, hearing his voice echo off of the girders and bounce around him. "It's been so long, why don't we come out here and...shoot the breeze?" He heard the ominous man sigh over the PA, which was not a good sign. *I can see that you're going to make this difficult. Very well, I was prepared for such a happening.* A short click signaled the end of his broadcast, leaving Ash hanging in the air atop Pidgeot. For a moment, a very long moment, there was only the thrumming of the propellers to keep the trio of travelers company in their flight. "Hello?" Ash shouted again, cupping his hands to his mouth. "Blast it, Lawrence, I came here, just like you said! Let's get this over and done with already!" The old adage, "Be careful what you wish for," suddenly came back to bite Ash square in his seat; a small burst of light came roaring out of the opened bay, glinting silvery-orange in the twilight aurora that blanketed the sky. Ash couldn't see what they were in the poor lighting, but they were moving towards them at an amazing rate. "Pidgeot, take evasive!" Ash's Pokémon pilot heeded his warning just in time as it juked to the left, avoiding a shot of light from one of the new arrival that flew past them. Ash could feel the hairs next to his ear getting singed as the beam shot past his shoulder. There was hardly time for him to feel relief as a dogfight was born within the girders of Lawrence's dark isle in the sky. Now that they were closer, the trainer and his Pokémon could see what they were up against. Seeing and recognizing were two different things, though; it wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. It was a machine, as near as he could tell, made of cold, dull steel, or something even harder. The robot was shaped relatively like a bird, with short, sharp wings swept back along a box-like body, with twin engines ablaze at the rear. A pair of red glowing optics donned its angular head, with a nasty looking muzzle protruding from each shoulder. "Sweet mother of mercy..." Ash cried out, "Those aren't Pokémon!" More rounds went flying past the airborne trio, strengthening Ash's resolve and fraying his nerves. "Guess that means we don't have to go easy on them...Pikachu!" he pointed at the target, gauging Pikachu's attacks and trying to pick out the best one. "Thunderbolt!" "Pika!" Pikachu began to focus its energy, letting the storm of electricity within it grow and seep out. Small rivulets of golden power began to course over its body, flowing like rivers and sparking like mad. "Pi...Ka...Chuu!" With a short battle cry, Pikachu sent a powerful blast of electricity shooting out of its body, striking the mechanical menace at the speed of light with several terravolts of force. The machine withstood the attack for only a fraction of a second, its circuitry never intended to handle such a massive surge of power, then overloaded. Smoke billowed out of its engines as the mecha spiraled downward, catching ablaze before finally striking the ground with one last, grand explosion. "Nice shot, Pikachu!" Ash praised Pikachu, patting it on the head. He smirked, cupping his hands to his mouth and shouting, "Is that the best you can do, Lawrence? I am soooo disappointed." Lawrence didn't respond verbally. Instead, Ash looked on in horror as more bright flashes appeared in the confines of the open bay...many, many more flashes. Dozens of the terrifying metallic centurions shot out of the opening, forming up into squadrons and making a beeline for Ash and his Pokémon. Their cold, red, merciless eyes blazed in the now-night sky, making the three targets even more afraid. Even from a good two hundred yards, Ash could see the barrels of their lasers surging with shots ready for firing. "We are 'so' screwed..." Ash muttered, digging his heels into Pidgeot and urging the Pokémon to pick up speed. * * * Unknown to Ash, his friends, and even Lawrence III, another Pidgeot was streaking towards the iron city in the sky at a speed that was almost as fast as Ash's. This Pidgeot was much different from his, though; it was dozens of times larger, and made from a titanium exostructure. Instead of wing power, this Pidgeot flew at Mach speeds with its massive fusion thruster that left a flame- streaked contrail behind the metal bird's flattened, feathery tail fins. This Pidgeot had no brain, but instead a pair of pilots, staring out its visor-like windshield as they tried to keep the ship steady. "Altitude holding at Angel oh-two," James called out from the Pidjet's seat, flipping the radar toggle while keeping one hand on the stick. "Course is one-three-eight and holding. Negative tally on the target, and no radar contact." Jessie blinked, staring at James from her place in the co-pilot's seat. She scratched her red-adorned crown in confusion. "Uh, James...I have no idea what you just said." Meowth's eyes crossed as he tried to make sense of the gibberish. "I tink he said something about an Angel named Tally..." the Hollywood tabby with a Brooklyn accent said. "Jeez, I feel like a need a decoder ring ta talk to dis guy." He grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck with embarrassment. "Sorry. My parents had me take piloting lessons when I was younger, and the lingo really stuck with me." He cleared his throat, double-checking the radar screen. "We're leveled off, and I'm not detecting the twerp or his overgrown messenger Pidgey." He sighed, leaning back in the chair and propping his feet up against the control panel. Ironically enough, it was that habit that got him kicked 'out' of piloting lessons when he was younger, too. "Y'know, I'm getting kind of tired of this assassin business and all." "James!" He scowled. "Well, it's true. I mean, really; when was the last time we tried to steal Pikachu, or any Pokémon for that matter!" He grunted, folding his arms across his chest. "Lately it's just been 'Go kill this,' or 'Go kill that.' Well, maybe I don't like killing this or that. Just because I'm rotten doesn't mean I'm a murderer." "Meow!" Meowth shook his head matter-of-factly. "You'd better not let Delta hear ya say dat. He'd probably fill ya with so much lead dat da doctors couldn't even x-ray whatever was left." "Or maybe he'd agree with him." The voice startled the Rocket trio. Jessie shrieked, and James immediately swung his legs down off of the panel, bumping the stick and sending the plane jerking off to the left, which only made Jessie shriek more. Before they could crash, Meowth grabbed the stick and stabilized the Pidjet's course. As the commotion died down, Delta couldn't help but smile at the disheveled agents. "Sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean to scare you." "Well, you DID!" Jessie snarled. Then she remembered who she was talking to, and slapped her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry..." she squeaked. He grunted, shaking his head. Looking about the cockpit, he couldn't help but marvel at the amazing transportation they had managed to conjure up on such short notice. "This assault craft is incredible. How on Earth did you get it...and so quickly?" "We have a friend in da Rocket Supply Depot." Meowth explained. "He manages ta get us most of da stuff we need pretty quickly." Then the cat tipped his head, looking at the assassin as if in a new light. "Hey, wha'ja mean by dat 'agreeing' stuff, anyhow?" He chuckled, taking a seat at one of the aft navigation panels. "You think I joined Team Rocket to kill people? I came here for the same reason as you three...I had nowhere else to turn." He pulled out one of his custom pistols, letting his eye travel past the handle, over the laser sight, down the muzzle, until it finally rested in the trigger. "But, like any big operation, Team Rocket needs people where their skills will be most useful. It just so happened that my best skill was this." he hefted the piece before returning it to the holster at his hip. "You know, you're lucky..." "Why?" Meowth was the only one that dared to ask. Delta stood, heading back towards the rear section. "You have each other, and the freedom to travel anywhere." He took one last, longing look out the windshield, as if looking for the freedom he longed for. "All I have is myself, and my assignment." With that, he left the cockpit, leaving the three of them speechless. "Who would have guessed it..." Jessie's black heart swelled with sympathy and remorse. For the first time in years, she felt tears stinging in her eyes. "An Omega Red...just as vulnerable as a human being." James, on the other hand, was openly weeping, as he did biweekly (and that was on a good week). "It's beautiful..." "Yeah, in a sick, twisted sort of way..." Meowth muttered. He smacked James on the back of the head, cutting off the waterworks. "Hey, Top Gun! Keep an eye on that radar. We know dat twerp was headin' dis way, and we still got a job ta do." 'If we're lucky,' he silently added, 'It'll be da last mission like dis...' * * * Ash awoke slowly, aware of only two things. One; his head hurt...a lot. Two; his ribs, which were thankfully still taped, hurt a lot more. "Unnghhhh...Muhhhh? Zuhhh..." "Feeling exceptionally verbal today, Mr. Ketchum? I must say, it's more intelligent than the usual drivel you constantly spout." Lawrence's voice resonated against his skull, sounding like a dull roar in a typhoon of throbbing pain. Ash gritted his teeth, fighting down a wave of rage. Even when he was totally disoriented and in extraordinary pain, he could recognize that smarmy, smug man's voice. From what he could tell, he was strapped to something cold and metal, hung upright off of the floor. 'I'll show him...' Ash thought with gritted teeth, 'Just as soon as the room stops spinning...and after they get that brass band out of my head.' He tried to focus his eyes, managing to conceive a fuzzy image of wherever it was he was. All he could discern was that he was inside rather than outside now, with some sort of artificial lights bathing them in painful brightness. The walls inside were a very light violet, trimmed around the edges with a deep maroon border. Off to his right was a wall made up entirely of glass plating, letting the full moon shine in on the large, open room Lawrence had placed his prisoners in. "Where are Pikachu and Pidgeot?" "Your Pokémon are unharmed." Lawrence's voice came from behind him. With a sudden jerk and a whirring of gears, the flat metal board he was strapped to began to rotate slowly, turning past the bay windows until it was facing opposite of before. With most of the fuzz out of his brain, Ash could now clearly see the face of his enemy. Lawrence looked much like he did several years before, when Ash had encountered him last. The collector wore the same haughty, superior expression, with a high-collared wraparound tunic and silken black pants to match. Roughly a dozen meters behind him were a pair of powerful containment fields, almost identical to the ones he had used on the legendary triplets nearly five years ago. One held Pikachu, who looked ridiculous hovering in a field that was built ten sizes too large for it. Pidgeot resided in the other, and filled it out a bit better. Ash recalled the last few minutes before their capture; Pidgeot just hadn't been able to out-fly the robotic drones, not with a payload riding on its back. 'Maybe I should have brought someone bigger?' the thought slipped in through his head. He promptly tried to shake it out, but it refused to leave. He had chosen Pidgeot because he had trained the bird longer...but what if he hadn't trained it well enough? What if Pidgeot just wasn't strong enough? "Lawrence..." Ash tried to sound casual, even though the anxiety inside of him was rapidly building. "You're looking well, considering you've lost...what is it now, two flying fortresses?" Lawrence smiled, clasping his hands behind his back. "Mr. Ketchum. Still brash and arrogant as ever, I see." "That's the pot calling the kettle black." "And clever, as well." He allowed, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "However, as much as I would like to match wits with you, Mr. Ketchum, I fear that I have a schedule to keep. Therefore, I suggest we make our transaction brief." Seemingly from nowhere, he produced a small, silvery chip, balanced delicately between his thumb and forefinger. The chip glinted and shone in the harsh artificial lighting, almost shimmering in Ash's watery eyes. "This is, if I am not mistaken, what you were searching for." The teen's eyes went wide as he realized just what the small piece of metal and plastic was. He squinted, managing to make out a tiny inscription on the chip despite his adjusting eyesight. "That's the second Hidden Machine!" he exclaimed, jerking against his bonds as he tried to lunge forward in excitement. His ribs immediately began screaming in protest, forcing him to calm down. "Indeed." Lawrence pocketed the HM once more, letting his hands fold across his broad chest. "I am prepared to give you the Hidden Machine, Mr. Ketchum." "In exchange for what?" Ash eyed the collector warily. He knew that nothing good could come of dealing with the likes of this man. On the other hand, he didn't have much other choice than to hear him out...for the moment. Lawrence smiled. Rather than answer Ash's question, he turned and began to walk away from the trainer. "Mr. Ketchum, you no doubt recall our first encounter that fateful day in the Orange Archipelago." "How could I forget?" Ash spat sarcastically. "You started shooting up the islands, then you captured two of the Elemental Titans, which made the planet's ecosystem go bonkers." His brow furrowed at the memory of snow falling on a hot June day in the tropical island. Silently, he promised himself that he would personally plant Lawrence's face into something hard, blunt, and fairly unpleasant the first chance he got. "You captured me, my friends, and after that you tried to take Lugia." "Indeed." Lawrence was about to continue, but Ash interrupted him, "I have to say, my favorite part of the whole ordeal was when Lugia pasted you with that Mega Beam of his..." "Yes, thank you, Mr. Ketchum." Lawrence's voice betrayed a modicum of annoyance. "That island must've been worth, what-one hundred million? Two hundred?" "Mr. Ketchum..." "It had to have been a lot," Ash smirked, "And not just the hardware...all those priceless works of art and artifacts you kept aboard that you had swiped from museums and other collectors over the decades..." "ENOUGH!" Ash stopped in mid-sentence, slightly surprised that he had actually gotten Lawrence angry. The moment didn't last long; Lawrence cleared his throat loudly, smoothing back his hair and tugging respectably on his collar. "The point I am trying to make, Mr. Ketchum," he continued calmly, "Is that you do not realize 'why' I attempted to acquire Lugia." His piercing gaze bored into Ash's eyes, almost as if he were trying to burn a hole in the boy's head with willpower alone. "Well?" Ash tried to shrug, pulling off only a painfully uncomfortable twitch in his restrained position. "I dunno...you were bored?" "Perhaps I overestimated you..." Lawrence mused, rubbing his chin. He then thrust a decisive finger into the air, pressing ahead with the lengthy exposition. "In any case, you are wrong. I sought to acquire the Guardian of the Sea because he was a piece of the puzzle...a puzzle that I, regrettably, possess only one-third off." Bringing his left wrist up to his right hand, he pressed a control that had been hidden in his sleeve. With a slow, groaning mechanical sigh, the ceiling split and began to recede out of sight. A large, black, crackling containment device creeped into sight, larger than any other set of containment rings Lawrence had ever used before. Even more amazing was what he had trapped within the rings. "Oh my God..." Ash whispered hoarsely. The Pokémon was screeching in terror, not used to being held captive and certainly not used to anything it couldn't simply overpower. It had long, haphazard feathers, colored a brilliant red and orange, with hints of yellow and white around its wingtips. Its beak was long, and very loud to Ash's sensitive ears. The Pokémon's eyes were impossibly black, and instantly focused on Lawrence III with a hatred that Ash thought only he could amass for the insane collector. "I present to you," Lawrence gestured with a flourish, "The legendary phoenix: Ho-Oh." * * * "There it is, Brock." Misty stood next to the beefy trainer's Onix, her hands planted on her hips. She had thought that the island might be hard to spot in the night sky, but her fears were unfounded; Lawrence had all of the running lights and searchlights of his magnificent airship going full steam. It was almost as if he didn't care who or what spotted him. That was his second mistake. His first had been screwing with her Ash. Her Ash? She shook her head clear of any stray thoughts, promising to come back to 'that' one later. In the meantime, though, they had to figure out a plan of attack. Dixie could only gape in awe, her jaw slackening at the very sight of the island. "My God..." she breathed, "It's bigger'n anything I've ever seen...airbornewise, anyway..." She turned back to Brock, who was just dismounting Onix. "How're we supposed to beat someth'n like that? It'd take half the Air Force to bring it down!" Brock began considering Lawrence's sanctuary thoughtfully, folding his arms and letting his teeth grind together. Try as he might, he couldn't think of a way to bring the ship down. Of course, with his friend and his friend's Pokémon inside, it wasn't necessarily a good idea to try and blow it out of the sky in the first place. Alternatives began to flow from the back of his mind... "Ah ha!" He walked around to the other side of Onix, out of sight of his two lady friends, and began rummaging through his pack. He reappeared in a moment, his arms laden with a large watermelon. "Okay, here's the plan; first, let's say that this melon represents one of us." "Oh...kay." the girls harmonized slowly. He nodded, then proceeded to place the watermelon on Onix's tail. "Now, the beauty of this plan is, it's so simple that it's foolproof." He stepped out in front of Onix and began to direct it while explaining. "Onix, you'll use a sort of modified Rock Throw attack and hurl us up at that flying island. Then," he continued, pulling out a Pokéball, "In mid-flight, I'll recall Onix back into his ball, and we'll land safely on the island. No fuss, no muss." Brock patted Onix's segmented body as the Pokémon gave him a look as if its trainer had just gone insane. "Brock, that has to be the stupidest idea I've ever heard." Misty folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at the trainer. " I've heard every single stupid plan that *Ash* has come up with, but this one tops it by a mile and a half." He gave her a pained look, sighing. "Look, I'll show you." He turned back to his massive rock snake, pointing out the gigantic fortress in the air. "Onix, launch that melon onto the island." He pulled out a set of binoculars and tossed them to Dixie. "Go ahead; watch as the melon glides through the air, safe as anything!" He gave Onix the go-ahead, and with a mighty whip of its tail, the large mass of fruit went flying. Dixie had a little trouble tracking the melon at first, but managed to get a bead on it pretty quickly. At first, it was just as Brock had said. She began describing the melon's arc to her friends, who were binocularless. "Okay, the melon's flyin'...It's headin' towards the fortress...Starting to dip a little bit..." Her voice took on a bleak tone as she saw the watermelon's unavoidable target. "It's heading for one of those props...Okay, it just hit the prop...Melon's flying everywhere..." she described with a totally neutral tone, not sure whether to laugh out loud or simply be thankful that she was not a melon. "Now the pieces are falling...still falling..." the binos dipped in her grasp as she followed the remnants down all the way to the ground. "Okay, they're down." She lowered the binos to see Misty looking pointedly at Brock. He simply scratched his head, exchanging a glance with Onix. "Okay," he rubbed his hands together briskly, "Any questions?" "Just one." Dixie tossed him his binos back. "Where on earth did you get that watermelon from?" Misty suddenly smacked herself on the forehead, startling Brock, Dixie, and Onix. "Oh my God, I must be an idiot!" She reached into her own pack and pulled out Ash's Pokébelt, strapping it around her own waist. "I completely forgot." "What?" Dixie tilted her head in confusion. "To rescue Ash, we have to...dress like him?" "No!" Misty rolled her eyes, exasperated. She plucked one of the balls off of Ash's leather belt and expanded it to its full softball-like size with a flick of her thumb. Then, holding down the control until the release catch activated, she tossed the ball out in front of her. With a flair of white that poured out of the splitting device, Misty released Ash's Articuno. The gigantic titan coagulated back into matter, fluttering its wings and adjusting to its new surroundings with only minor squawking. Brock stared at the seven foot tall bird for a moment, then simply said, "Well, of course, 'I' could have thought of that...I just..." he struggled, "I thought maybe you both were kind of tired of flying." "If flying's not good enough for you," Misty intoned smugly, pulling Fearow's and Charizard's balls off of the belt and expanding them to full size, "You can try it your way, Melon-Head." He coughed, pulling out his own ball and recalling Onix with a flick of the wrist. "No, I think I'll tough it out with you guys..." he explained innocently. "Glad to hear it." it was impossible not to catch the wry amusement in Misty's voice. * * * "So..." Lawrence flashed Ash an arrogant grin, standing next to Ho-Oh's containment cage. He was leaning on it, as if the device wasn't just barely holding one of the most powerful forces on the entire planet at bay...which it was. It was Ho-Oh, for God's sake. Ho-Oh! "What do you think?" Outwardly, Ash tried to appear nonchalant, or even casual. Inside, though, his heart had frozen with terror. He could hardly believe his ears. "Sorry, what? I kind of got bored there when your mouth started to do that flapping thing..." "You mean talking?" "Yeah, that's the thing." Ash tried desperately to keep the shaking fear out of his voice. He wasn't sure if he succeeded or not, but Lawrence didn't seem to notice either way. The smug nemesis simply kept smiling. 'Why shouldn't he?' Ash thought, despite his own best efforts not to give the collector any credit, 'He had captured Ho-Oh.' It was Ho-Oh, for God's sake! "Well then," Lawrence began to slowly pace the distance between them, walking towards Ash with decisive, unhurried steps. Each step echoed off of the deck plating. Step. Step. Step. It was maddening, almost excruciating, to listen to it. "Let me explain it once more, shall I?" He glanced back at Ho-Oh for a moment, which only made his smile grow even larger. "The two beings you know to be Ho-Oh and Lugia are not beings at all. Rather, they are one united, harmonious entity." "For one being," Ash quipped, "There sure are a lot of him." "Ah!" The older man clapped his hands together excitedly, "Therein lies the problem! Once, many millennia ago, they *were* one being. However, they were split apart during a colossal battle, one the likes of which the world hasn't seen for countless generations." His eyes danced with a light that Ash had never seen before. It was frightening...almost like looking into the living flames of a soul, or a broken lava lamp. As near as Ash could figure, it was a twinkle of madness that he saw in Lawrence's eyes. "Lugia received one-half of the being's power, and inherited the rationalization of the beast; the thought, the logic...the brain." "And what about Ho-Oh? Did he get the liver?" The odd comment didn't seem to slow Lawrence for a moment. "Ho-Oh is the physical manifestation of the passion, of the heart and soul." He stopped, placing his head mere inches from Ash's face. "That is what makes him so completely feral. Why, if I were to release him right now, he would probably go mad and destroy everything, all my efforts." "Gee, we wouldn't want that." Ash drawled with all the sarcasm he could muster. Lawrence waggled a finger in his face, which Ash was tempted to bite clean off the man's hand. He managed to restrain himself, though. "No. However," he continued, turning his back on Ash, "In order to unite the two once more, I will need to possess an artifact. One that has thusfar proved to be elusive." "A twisty-tie?" "I grow weary of your insolent tongue, Mr. Ketchum." Lawrence spoke without turning to face Ash. "It would be most appreciated if you would refrain from speaking for just a few minutes longer, despite the love you hold for your own voice." Ash shut up, not wanting to risk the collector growing so angry as to stomp off without finishing his explanation...or worse. "As I was saying...an artifact; the Kei'Sahral...the Crystal of Bonding." "Kei'Sahral..." Ash rolled the words around in his mouth. Then he smirked. "That doesn't mean 'Crystal of Bonding'..." "Pray tell?" Lawrence's eyebrow raised with only slight interest. "Kei'Sahral means 'Crystal of Unity'..." he laughed, happy to have caught Lawrence flatfooted for once. "Really..." If Lawrence was flustered, he hid it remarkably well. "And when did you become an expert of ancient Pokémopolitese?" "I..." Ash's mouth snapped shut. Truth be told, he didn't know *how* he recognized the words...he hadn't even been aware that the crystal was Pokémopolitan. "I have a sort of passing interest in the stuff..." he mumbled weakly. "Anyway, what do you need me for?" "I would think that obvious." Lawrence turned for the door, clicking the hidden control on his wrist to retract Ho-Oh's cage. The sparkling cage of energy began to ascend into the ceiling once more, still holding the unconscious legend in its clutches. "After all, only the Chosen One can call forth the Guardian of the Sea." "In a Piloswine's eye, you lunatic!" Ash spat. "Then consider yourself to be in a rather large Piloswine's eye, Mr. Ketchum. It shouldn't be a stretch for you, being the irritant that you are." Lawrence was about to exit when a bright flash from outside the large bay windows caught his attention. The flash was followed by a terrific shaking sensation, as if the airship was a snow globe in the hands of an energetic three-year-old. "What was that?" "Looks like your 'eye' needs a checkup." Ash smirked, praying silently that it was Misty and the others out there causing the shaking. He couldn't bring himself to be mad with them, even if they had done exactly what he had told them not to do. Another bright flash erupted outside, and the ship shook even harder. Lawrence returned smirk with sneer, once again pressing his hidden control. "I will not check anything. My Mechémon will see to any unwanted interlopers." "Mechémon?" * * * Delta ran up the deck towards the cockpit, trying to keep himself upright amidst the shaking and sudden shifts. He threw the door open, furious at the change in plans. "What in blazes is going on here?" roared the assassin. "We've engaged the enemy." Jessie shot back quickly, too engrossed in the weapons' panel to say anything more. She was launching missiles at something large and indistinguishable ahead of them while James kept the Pidjet circling and juking. "What enemy?" Delta demanded. For a brief, fleeting moment he considered the possibility that Ketchum had found them before they had found him, and was doing a preemptive strike. Meowth put those fears to rest, though. The feline was clinging to one of the panels desperately, trying to keep upright and still hold his lunch down. "Dat flying island ting!" the cat screeched, managing to point a claw out the viewport. "What about it?" "Believe me," Meowth grunted, "It's bad news. We had a run-in with dat ting a few years back...nearly took the whiskers right off my face...and my face, too!" "We're Team Rocket!" Delta snarled, grabbing hold of a chair just in time to brace himself for another of James' wild maneuvers. "We plunder the world, not save it!" James, despite the weight of the moment, managed a sardonic chuckle. He was uncharacteristically focused and...well, not whiney. "Just hang on...I have a feeling that if that island is there, then Ash...er, our target," he corrected himself, "Will be on it." Delta perked up a bit at that. "In that case," he ordered, putting a hand on James' shoulder, "How close can you take us in to that thing?" "It depends on how much the defenses hassle us." "What defenses?" The sky suddenly lit up with bright flashes of laser fire. The shots were erupting from the pylons of the air fortress, launched from unseen turrets. Even worse, Delta could see that some sort of aircraft was being launched from a now-open bay...very small aircraft, and in droves. They began swarming out at unbelievable speed, lighting up the already-deadly sky with even more crossfire, making James work all that much harder. "Those defenses." Jessie answered, launching another string of missiles. Her shots were intercepted in mid-flight by several laser shots, taken out before they could do any damage. "Blast!" "You tried that already." "Shut up, James." "Just trying to keep the mood light." he bit down on his lip in concentration, trying desperately to keep the plane out of harm's way. It was getting to be nearly impossible with those tiny jets buzzing about like gnats. "Like I said, take us close." Delta ordered him. He opened the hatch, intending on heading back into the aft section again. "Why?" James grunted out the question as he kept the Pidjet juking. "We still have those emergency rocket packs in the back, don't' we?" Delta asked him. James understood in an instant, flashing the assassin a broad smile before turning his attention back to the fight. Though he didn't like to admit it, James was beginning to like the man. * * * Misty recalled the last of Ash's borrowed Pokémon into their capture spheres, reducing them and slapping them back onto the belt, which she then strapped around her own waist. She looked over to her friends, who had just made it inside with her. It was lucky for them that Charizard had been able to cut through the hull of Lawrence's fortress with a concentrated Flamethrower, and without setting off any alarms. A little good luck might be a nice change of pace...for once. "Everyone okay?" "Aces." Brock muttered. His attention was nowhere near on Misty; instead, the Rock trainer was looking around at the massive hanger they had cut into. The lights were off, but that didn't stop Brock from taking in the show. Everywhere he turned, there was something amazing to see; art, machinery, and priceless artifacts. "We must have cut straight into his collection." Dixie whistled appreciatively, running her finger over a statue that looked suspiciously like Michelangelo's David. "Y'all wasn't kidding about this guy. He's got it all." "I'll say." Brock agreed. He pointed, directing her attention over to a section of the wall filled from floor to ceiling with framed paintings. "Look, there's Da'Vinci's Mona Lisa." "And look next to it! That must be the first replacement copy they put in the museum after he stole the first one." she singled out the picture's exact replica. "Wonder why he stole both?" "He's pretty twisted like that." Misty growled. Despite her anger, though, she couldn't help but be impressed. Lawrence had spent a lifetime putting together his collection, a tapestry of the rarest and most beautiful things valued by man, and it really showed. Squinting through the darkened room, she thought she could spot the Spirit of St. Louis resting right next to Gutenburg's original printing press. "Really twisted." she added with a shiver. The floor beneath them suddenly took a wild shift on the horizontal plane, nearly throwing them off their collective feet. "Holy crap!" Dixie swore, "What'n blazes was that?" Brock took a chance and stuck his head out the hole they had cut into the hull, stealing a peek outside. He managed to jerk his head back in before a wild laser shot decapitated him at the neck. "What'd you see?" Misty asked him, wringing her hands. She wasn't sure if they could handle anything more. Wasn't rescuing Ash from the clutches of Lawrence III enough? "What was it?" "Trouble." Brock's voice was shaking. His heart was still pounding with the adrenaline rush that came with nearly being killed. "Big trouble. There's some kind of firefight out there...I don't know who it is-" "Whoever they are, they're giving us a nice distraction." Misty stated firmly. "It's about time some trouble came along and helped us out for a change." "Uh..." Dixie had gone a few paces ahead of them, searching for a door. Instead, she found something a bit different. "I think we're about to come into more trouble..." "What is it?" Misty and Brock turned, not knowing what Dixie was talking about and dreading what it was that made her voice shiver and quake the way it did. Dixie backed up slowly, shaking as she reached for a Pokéball. She wasn't sure what it was that had come for them, but whatever it was, it was big, big enough to make the deck shake. Even through the turmoil from the battle outside, she could feel the monster's steps trouncing the deck plating, making it creak. Her gaze traveled up to meet the new trouble...and kept on traveling. Finally, she made out a pair of crimson eyes piercing the darkness. "Big trouble..." Dixie whispered. A minute later, it was all over. * * * "As you can see," Lawrence gestured to the battle being waged outside his massive palace in the sky, "My Mechémon are infinitely superior to any and all Pokémon. They have all of their strengths, but none of the inherent, *organic* weaknesses." Though he would never say it out loud, the metal combatants that Lawrence had developed profoundly impressed Ash. Having gone head-to-mechanical-head with them, he knew firsthand how fast and efficient they were. "So you made a few wind-up toys. Good for you." Ash yawned loudly. "Ho hum. If I had wanted to see action figures, I would have gone to Toys 4 U." "Mr. Ketchum," Lawrence's voice betrayed only the slightest hint of his annoyance, "You have gone out of your way to be as rude and obnoxious as possible since your arrival. I have been nothing if not a hospitable and polite host-" "Yeah, you even gave me the best seat in the house." Ash quipped, tugging on his bonds. "What a peach, huh, Pikachu?" It broke Ash's heart to see Pikachu and Pidgeot trapped inside Lawrence's rings, helpless and unconscious as they were. He would make Lawrence pay when he got out...if he ever did. "Look, are we just going to talk all night, or are you going to show me more of your remote control planes?" Lawrence smiled at this. He checked the small control apparatus mounted on his wrist, nodding in approval. "Ah, the Sky Sentinels are not my only form of Mechémon, Mr. Ketchum. In fact, I believe that another of my mechanical creations is chauffeuring several of your acquaintances here as we speak." "Acquainta-what?" Surely Lawrence was lying. Who did he know that could possibly be on the fortress with him? Unless... "Oh no. No, they didn't." The doors opened, revealing to Ash the disturbing fact that they *had*. It was another robot...a very, very big robot. The Mechémon appeared to stand about ten feet tall from where Ash was trapped, gleaming all the way from his stainless steel feet to his oblong-shaped head. Most of him was simply armor plating, and not exposed wiring and components like the robots Ash had frequently seen in cartoons and movies. Each of its four arms, though, sported a nasty looking cannon mounted above the wrist for easy aiming and even easier destruction. Three of those four arms were helpless at the moment; each one contained the struggling, restrained form of one of Ash's closest friends. "Hi Ash!" Brock called out to his friend, grimacing in pain as the robot squeezed him a bit harder than necessary. "Funny meeting up with you here..." Ash was furious. "I seem to recall telling you guys to WAIT for me!" he yelled, his face growing red with anger. "I can't believe you three got yourselves captured!" "Look who's talking, Bigmouth!" Misty shot back, trying to wriggle free of the mechanoid's deadly hug. "Misty, will you just shut up for once in your life?" Ash shot back. "You shut up!" "I said SHUT UP Carrot Top!" "And I said YOU SHUT UP, Hat Head!" "Shut up!" "Why don't you make me?" "Keep it up and I will, Scrawny!" "Scrawny!? If you were standing right here, I'd knock you right on your-" "ENOUGH!" Lawrence's voice rose above Ash and Misty's quarreling, cutting them off. "If you two are done flirting?" This got even louder cries of protest from the two, which he silenced with a gesture of his hand. "Now, if you would be so kind as to cease the useless noise?" They opted for quiet this time. "Thank you." He turned back to Ash, indicating the large Mechémon that held his friends captive. "As you can see, Mr. Ketchum, my Mechémon come in terrestrial form as well as aerial form. This is Archimedes, one of my superior models." "Let...them...go." Ash growled. "I think not." He shook his head, waggling a finger at Ash before strolling over to Archimedes, giving each of the new prisoners a small, curious inspection. "No. Instead, I believe I shall use them to my advantage. After all, you do care about your friends very deeply, do you not?" "I said, let them GO!" Ash was thrashing against his bonds now, trying desperately to break free. If there had been any way possible to strike Lawrence dead at that very moment, Ash had no doubt whatsoever that he wouldn't have hesitated for even an instant. Lawrence stopped his inspection with Misty, absently fingering her long, luxurious orange-red hair. She had let it grow out over the past year, letting it run a bit wilder. It wasn't the least bit unbecoming. Naturally, she still kept a braided lock hanging down near her temple, right where her old ponytail used to jut out of the side of her head. Lawrence took this, tugging on it gently. He was rewarded with a feral growl from the back of Misty's throat. "This one...she is your lady friend, if memory serves. Is she not?" He turned back to Ash, Misty's braid still intertwined between his fingers. "I'm NOT his GIRLFRIEND!" Misty wailed, but only half-heartedly. The truth was, she was battling a trio of emotions at the moment; one was extreme fear for her own life, and another was the growing urge to beat the tar out of Lawrence with her bare hands and booted feet. The third, the one she wouldn't even admit to herself, was a strange fear of never telling Ash before she died. 'Tell him what?' she wondered, even as Lawrence molested her hair with that disgusting grin on his face. "Leave them out of this, Lawrence." Ash tried desperately to reason with the madman. Fear and anguish was flowing into his tone like a waterfall, his heart surging with emotion. "Please...don't kill them. They're my friends." "Ah yes...Poor Mr. Ketchum." Lawrence laughed. He stroked Misty's cheek, only pulling his hand away after she tried to bite his finger clean off. "It's a rather common complex, actually; you lost your father when you were young." He laughed as Ash's face grew twisted with rage, the young trainer's amber eyes seething and burning. "And so, because your own family was broken, you sought to make a new family for yourself. A surrogate sister or two," he patted Misty and Dixie on the head, "A surrogate brother," he acknowledged Brock. "Even your Pokémon." He regarded Pikachu and Pidgeot, floating in their containment fields. "I wonder how far you would go to save them?" "Let them go, you monster!" Ash roared. "No." Lawrence turned to Archimedes, looking the robot square in its blood red optical sensors. "Archimedes, kill them. Kill them all. Start with that one." he pointed to Misty. "NO!" * * * End -Quiet Hindsight- I didn't intend for this one to have a cliffhanger...but it does. Funny how that works, isn't it? Ha ha ha...anyway, I should have things more or less back to normal in the next fic (normal as things get for Ash, anyway). Stay tuned! Next: BadgeQuest: The America Chronicles #4 The Hidden Machine Saga 03