Disclaimer: I don’t own pokemon! I don’t even own all the games or toys or books or whatever other marketing ploys they have.

Chapter Three

Light flooded into the dim, dark room and Salty slowly raised her plumed head. Her brown eyes flinched at the unexpected flood and the pupils constricted to mere slits. She expected to see Stacey the executive rather than the hulking figure that framed the doorway. The executive had been an interesting chose in friends, but news and the going-on of the outside world were always welcome. As was the disgusting, but filling food that was served in meager amounts.

The unshaved man stomped into the room smelling strongly of brine and spirits. By the way he was walking Salty guessed that he had drank quite a bit of liquor, most likely whisky. As his side, looking proud and arrogant was a ninetales. Salty recognized the pair easily and a deep growl escaped from her puppy throat. The tip of a canine peeked out and her lips were taunt and drawn. These were not welcome guests in her opinion and she would not treat them as such. Still, she had been curbing her temper lately in hopes of being given to a trainer and getting out of the dank cell. Showing vicious manners to the man was a good way to make sure that never happened.

The ninetales pricked his triangle ears and sneered. His white teeth gleaming in the semi-darkness. Ruby eyes watched her with unmasked hate. Salty had the grace to ignore his unsaid taunts and body language. The man, however, worried her more than she had like to admit. He was not in his right senses and, therefore, might do something he would regret later. She desperately hoped that he had wandered into the wrong room secretly doubting it. She was held off to the side of the cargo bay and there was nothing else down there. Not a bathroom or porthole.

He strolled somewhat unevenly to her cage. She backed off slightly as he eyed her. His black eyes were like that of a mankey, unpredictable and dangerous. He muttered a muffled oath and dug through his voluminous pockets in search of something. After fishing around unsuccessfully for a moment or two he dragged out a ring of heavy, metal keys. Shoving one into the lock, wrenching it around, he ripped open the door. Beckoning for the growlithe to come out he keep a wary distance. He was stupid, but not that stupid.

Hesitantly Salty shot a glance at where she had last seen Sweetie. The young furret was curled-up, half covered by straw and other clutter that covered the floor. Only a bit of brown fur gave away her position.

The man traced her glance and bounded forward surprisingly fast. He passed Salty before the surprised dog could bar his way and grabbed the little creature by the scruff. Rudely awakened, the ferret pokemon squealed and screamed in pain and surprise. The man grunted, shaking her roughly, and told her to shut up.

Her screams of protest unfroze Salty and the sea dog bounded forward fully prepared to take the man out.

What she hadn’t counted on was the ninetales. His slender frame and long legs were made for speed and he used them to the fullest extent. He whipped in her way baring his sharp teeth and narrowing his blood red eyes menacingly. Before it had been a joke, a lark, but now he was defending his trainer and it was deadly serious.

She tried to push past the willowy ninetales and a flurry of tail whipped her face painfully forcing her to halt. Salty took immediate action on the issue by grabbing one silky tail in her mouth and biting down as hard as she could. The ninetales whipped around with a half-snarl, half-yelp trying to dislodge her. Grimly she held on as he battered at her unprotected flank. With one big heave he removed his tail from her grasp and the fight truly began.

Salty was no rookie when it came to fighting. Her move set had few elemental moves. The vast majorities were normal moves such as Skull Bash and the dark move Bite. Living on the sea had also provided a rich opportunity to brawl. Fighting fair was hardly the way to win a fight with a sailor’s pokemon. She drove home her attacks catching her opponent off balanced. He tripped and went down in a heap of tails.

"Stop it yea bloody bitch!" The man yelled at the top of his lungs. His voice was no longer slurred. It seemed the vicious battle, taking place before him, had made him sober. His bellow cut through the fray effectively and the two combatants paused in their dance of death. It was indeed a mortal fight in which one would never have gotten up from if the man had not interrupted. Salty had the distinct advantage. Her heavy muzzle was curled tightly around the fox’s slender foreleg in a vice grip. Before the man had called out she was descending downwards for the crippling blow. She was reluctant to let go. Every instinct she had was screaming for her to go for the crippling blow despite what the man commanded. "Do it now."

His voice had taken on a cold aura. It cracked like winter’s ice before the bow of a big ship. There was no fear just grim determination to win. It was the determination that made man or beast a desperate fighter without morals and a strong cause. One who took all the risks even knowing the consequences before hand and stopped at nothing.

Salty hesitated still and in the mere moment the man took action against her. He lofted Sweetie above his head, holding her by the scruff. She screamed in terror and struggle violently lacerating his arm with her tiny claws. He took no more notice of the cuts than he did her heart-wrenching screams of terror. Whipping his cord-like muscles he moved his arm in a large circle. The circle abruptly narrowed and the speed was swifter as he refined his movements.

With a roar Salty disengaged and sprang for the man’s throat. He instinctively stumbled back dropping Sweetie. That was what Salty had been aiming for. Now that the baby was out of the way she let loose a raging inferno of fire from deep within her belly. The white-hot flames raced towards the target and only his ninetales knocking him aside saved him from instant incineration.

Still, the big fox had not been able to do enough. The edge of the spiraling flame caught him. The flames licked up his face hungrily. In consumed flesh, hair, and material alike as it burned brightly. The smell of charred flesh hung heavily in the air and smokes floated lazily to the top of the small room.

The ninetales once again saved his master. Throwing himself bodily on the man’s face and neck he smothered the flames with his cream coat. When he rose there were black marks and gray smudges marring the creamy fur. The man’s face was far worse however. The whole left side had been melted away revealing bone and muscle tissue. Charred pieces of flesh hung loosely from his nose and lips. His eyebrows and most of his greasy black hair had been desecrated. It was doubtful he would live without immediate attention. Somehow though, Salty didn’t care.

The door swung open with force and a woman’s voice demanded, "What in Blue Blazes is going on here?" She spotted the moaning trainer still writhing in agony on the floor and her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. They traveled to Salty who was gently nosing Sweetie in concern. There was a grim look of satisfaction on the growlithe’s white muzzle and a glint in her eyes.

Turning to the only English speaking one in the room she questioned with compassion, "What happened to you, man?"

He groaned and made a hideous sound, which she supposed was a reply. Biting her bright red bottom lips she realized his vocal cords had been damaged and his lips burned. There was no way he was going to tell the tale at this time. Taking a closer look her stomach heaved and she amended her prior thought, he may never tell the tale. Casting one last baleful glance at Salty she radioed in help. She requested a doctor and a chancey. Even Softboil might not be enough to save his voice, was her last thought before the others arrived on the scene.

Author’s note: Thank you Topaz. The one who got me going on this fic again. See? E-mails motivate me! I write more…and better. ^_^;