Resistance
By: Trix
E-mail: q-chan@juno.com
Category: Gen.
Part 2b: Chapter 1, part 2

Warning: Not for you, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Someday I'll own them, when I am dictator of the world, and then I'll name American football teams after them(the Rapid City Rapidashes!)
Until then, kudos to WB, Nintendo, Gamefreak, and all of you other wonderful people who brought us Pokemon.

Awaking with a start, Brock felt his heart nearly stop. Liz was already unsheathing twin rapiers from her discarded sword belt, ready to battle in a violet undershirt and breeches. He knew the same thought was racing through her mind at speed he had not thought possible. Ash had shouted alarm, which meant he had been attacked and most likely was in more trouble than he could handle.
Tugging his immense broadsword from the chain he used to sling it over his back, Brock charged from the tent, landing barefoot in an icy puddle. Rain falling at an alarming rate stung his face and bare arms, but he hardly noticed the pain. The night-or was it early morning? -was darker than Hell, he could barely see the soot-gray canvas of his tent, but he could hear the war cries of countless Trainers and the muffled rattling of a machine gun. Shimmering silver aura forming around him, the light cut through darkness and rain, revealing assorted Trainers of the elements, all with their hoods up.
"Ash?!" he bellowed. "Ash, where a' ye?!"
"Here, Brock!"
The reply was faint, and brief, but he followed it, not bothering to wait for Trainers to clear him a path, he blazed his own trail through them. Slashing, jabbing, thrusting, blade glinting dully before it was stained crimson. Jerking the sword out of those unfortunate enough to get in his way, he stopped for nothing, paying no heed to the few weapons that made it past his defense.
Shaking the ribcage of a Trainer from the tip, he caught sight of the Electric Master. The hilt of a dirk in one hand, he was swiftly dodging the blows of an axe, leaping over the whistling edge, ducking, keeping light on his feet. Roaring, Brock swung his blade, wide strokes catching Trainers in an assortment of lethal swipes from head to torso. Bone shattered, blood sprayed, Trainer's screams of both sides rent the air. It was full battle at its finest.
"Heyla hey! Master Brock!"
"Kenner!" he recognized the odd greeting of one of his Trainers. "Get to Ash! Hurry!"
"Aye, Master Brock!" The blonde rock trainer drew his own broadsword, barreling into the first unaligned ranks with the fury of a rockslide.
"Damn ya, you'll never be Trainers. Say Heyla ta anyone I ha'e killed when ya get ta Hell fo' me, damnation ta ya all," he heard the muttering of one of the Fire Trainers. "Heyla, time ta die."
Ignoring him, Brock realized the opposing forces were trying to keep them all back from the Electric Master, and doing an excellent job. With a sudden sinking feeling he also realized Ash was the only person they were trying to kill.

Ducking under a high swing, Ash threw the useless dirk hilt, hitting the Duplica just below the ribs. Strange, strangled moan escaping from between her lips, she staggered back, keeping the long handled axe in front of her defensively.
"Dammit," he breathed. A Water Trainer had slowly crept until he was at Duplica's back, raising his sword to attack.
Sensing the overly confident man at her back, she whirled, element changing to Electric faster than he could blink and the axe's edge caught the trainer across the eyes. A horrid screech ripped from his throat and he collapsed on the ground in a pitiful heap, splinters of bone from the bridge of his nose scattered over the mud. If he wasn't dead, he would be, soon.
"Hey! Ash!"
Peering through the rain, he saw Anne waving his sword, her own in her other hand. Thrusting out one arm to show he understood, she nodded, tossing it. The hilt hit his palm and he began spinning it, switching hands, jagged blade weaving a complicated pattern, glistening in the rain and his aura that flared like a gold beacon.
Her style becoming tighter, Duplica struck out again. Deflecting it easily, Ash's sword strokes moved fluidly. Swift blows meeting and parting with the screaming of swordplay singing through the air, two Masters clashed. They circled, Ash growling in his throat, Duplica's hood thrown back, revealing a rather beautiful woman with long, dark green hair, pretty brown eyes and a dangerous smile. Warning blows already exchanged, they were ready to draw first blood at a moment's notice.
In sudden decision Duplica lashed out with the blade, gripping the end of the shaft. The blade caught Ash's forearm and wrist, cutting to the bone before he could pull away. Dropping his sword and falling to his knees, he held the bleeding limb, trying to stop the flow of scarlet liquid with the split sleeve of his cloak and shirt. He did not cry out in pain, though it was evident in his features.
Sweeping his sword to one side with her foot, Duplica's features twisted into a cruel smile. Bowing his head, Ash closed his eyes, waiting for Death to come
It never did. Duplica turned on her heel, her aura rippling a brilliant azure.
The Fire Trainer who had previously been damning each opponent to Hell ignored aura and axe, fighting hard with the two crescent curved swords he had previously strapped to his back. The assortment of weapons on his person and grim expression marked him a serious swordsman and gunman, and from his attacks against the now Water Mistress Duplica, he was good indeed.
"Stupid Trainer!" she snarled in a musical soprano. "This is a fight between me and him!"
"Aye, a worthless, cheatin' bitch like yo'self an' 'im fightin' is a waste o' my time," he replied. "
"Damn you!" she lunged forward, axe shimmering before elongating, thinning out and splitting into two katanas. Stepping back, she pulled the blades together, both swords glowing icily blue. "You'll pay for that, I swear!"

The Dodrio was not happy. The three-headed bird was built for travelling on dry plain, not miserable, wet mountain paths. The scaly four clawed feet were continually sinking into mud, long legs pumping hard to remain above overly dampened soil. The trio of feather tufted heads bobbing at the end of slender necks all voice their complaints, loudly.
"Damn bird, c'mon!" the young man perched on its back snarled. Jerking all six reigns he managed to silence the squabbling beaks for several moments.
Sighing, he attempted to pull the edge of his hood farther over his face, pushing brown hair from his eyes. Normally he would have ridden a Rapidash, but he felt uncomfortable with any of the types aside from Fire, and Fire type Rapidashes were a bad choice for traveling in the rain. The bird type was noisy and hard to ride, especially when in a bad mood.
Not that he could blame the Pokemon, it was forced to carry an irritable Fire Lieutenant. He had his reasons, he was cold and tired, as any normal person would have been. It was nearly midday, he had been travelling since shortly after midnight. Annoyed, he nudged Dodrio's sides with his heels, ignoring the squawk of protest from the head representing anger. It was raining, the so-called water-resistant material of his cloak was not, and he was about to pass out on the back of a reeking ball of wet feathers. To sum things up, his mood was not at its best. You could call it pissy, if you were being crude, which he felt like being.
His thoughts were interrupted and he was immediately on the alert upon hearing what was unmistakably battle, the crash of sword upon sword, screams, death cries echoing around immense trunks of trees, his eyes narrowed. "C'mon, Dodrio!" he pulled hard on the reigns and kicked it into a full run. Tying the reigns to the saddle allowing the Dodrio to find its own way, he slid the steel-shafted glaive from the leather case across his back.
It leapt into the clearing, screaming its high pitched battle cry, the three beaks raised in defiance to the clouds. Dismounting smoothly he held his weapon out, hood casting shadows that hid his face. Smiling, he twirled the glaive in one hand, the deadly blade at the top held outward. "Come to meand you'll meet Death."

The fighting had lulled to a near halt, and the gun had been silenced. The Fire Trainer would not leave the Electric Master's side, but neither would the Change Mistress. If anyone came to close, meaning a fifteen-yard radius, they met swift and short deaths from either of the opponents, the unknown Trainer with a swift thrust and Duplica changing from element to element to have the advantage. Seeing he was safe for the moment, the other Masters and their Lieutenants kept their distance, Duplica had the upper hand in battle.
It was past dawn, far past dawn, but the obscure clouds hid the sun from view, making it impossible for anyone without a watch to tell the time. Not that it was important in any way, shape, or form. Duplica and the Fire Trainer had ceased their own personal battle, and that was really all that mattered to Ash at the moment.
"Missus Duplica! Masta Koga sent me here for a reason!" a high-pitched, unmistakably feminine voice with an annoying drawl called from across the clearing.
"I understand, Jessibelle!" Duplica called back.
A woman with brilliantly crimson hair tied back in a ridiculously intricate braid bounded towards them, killing anyone who got in her way with a single short sword. Her tight black leather outfit left little to be imagined, the over-layer of her equally black cape marked her as the Poison Lieutenant. Her intent was obvious in her cold blue eyes and red lips twisted into a cruel smile. Discarded sword now clenched tightly in his right hand, Ash narrowed flat brown eyes.
"Master Ash"
"Shut up," he snarled at the Trainer, eyes locked on Jessibelle.
"Bu' Master Ash"
Seeing her chance, Duplica leapt forward, and the Trainer brought his swords up just in time.
"Looks like yo' li'l frien' can't help ya anymore," Jessibelle smirked.
"I can help myself."
She attacked, pulling a braided leather whip from her belt and a few expert flicks of it disarming him. Stumbling back, defenseless, he held up his hands. Snapping, electricity wired between his fingers and palms, growing brighter as he prepared for his own counterattack, pulling back to release the power gaining in his hands by the moment.
The red head cracked the whip again, catching it around the wounded flesh of his left arm. Grimacing, he fell to his knees, not a sound slipping between his lips. The braided leather burned his skin, tightening. The force of aura he had been gathering dissipated, ghostly sparkling before fading out completely.
Jerking it back, she watched in satisfaction, her victim slumping forward, the arm still held by her whip snapped out of joint, the sound audible. Landing heavily in the mud, his shoulders quivered in his attempt to rise, then stilled. Crouching next to him, careful not to let the mud touch her breeches, she leaned towards him, slipping a dagger from her belt as she did. He breath tickled in his ear, his struggle to remain conscious over the pain was weaker, red hazing his vision, alienated patterns of thought surging through his mind.
"To ba' you're stupid, Ash Ketchum. Ya could ha'e made a great Masta fo' the Resistance."
"Aye, 'n' he still will!"
Sparks scattered above her neck, Duplica's blades had stopped the double points of the Fire Lieutenant's glaive from finishing off Jessibelle. Shrieking, the Poison Lieutenant threw her hands up, releasing the whip and scampered to the side. Duplica's now Psychic aura flickered before both her and Jessibelle disappeared.
Pushing himself painfully to his feet, Ash unwound Jessibelle's whip from his arm, baring his teeth when skin came away with leather. "Thank youGary"
"Waazzup?! Hey, you okay?"
"Ithink so" he took a step and fell to one knee, clutching his arm, cradling it to his chest. Looking down, his vision became unfocused, and he blinked hard, trying to gain a grip on the world.
"Can I see it?" he knelt next to him. Unlike Jessibelle, he didn't give a damn how mucked up his clothing became. Impatiently, and instead of waiting for the permission he had requested, the Fire Lieutenant grabbed his wrist and tugged his arm lightly towards him. Ash gritted his teeth, pain firing anew, Gary tracing the wound with one finger. "Shit"
"Real reassuring, Gary. Real reassuring"
"Gary! Ash!" in a brilliant shimmer of violet light, Liz appeared next to them, twin rapiers held in attack position. She did not even bother to give either of them a sideways glance, a bit haggard looking from the teleport spell. "Are you two alright?"
"About time, Liz," Gary snorted. "I'm well, nice to see you. Ash has been poisoned and he's bleeding everywhereyou really should work on getting injured with-out leaving a mess, Ketchum."
Eyes widening, Liz dropped her rapiers and gripped the younger man's wrist. "Sweet GoddessI will take it from here, thank you, Gary."
Irises flitting from brown to lavender, her aura glittered over the laceration, tissue reforming, reweaving, skin pulled over the wound. The healing took only a matter of moments; the skin that showed no trace of a scar could have taken years to reform after the slice. Turning his head, Ash closed his eyes. Muscles tensed, they quivered with pain at the agony that accompanied a Psychic Healing. Forcing his bone back into the socket, she managed to form a better connection than what normally would have been possible.
Fading back to their natural color, her eyes closed and she sat back, obviously exhausted. Flexing an arm now in perfect condition, Ash grinned at her. "Thank you, Lizzy!"
"Call me that again and you will be regretting the day you were born," she murmured, opening her eyes to glare venomously at him.
Shrugging, he jumped to his feet, wavering for a moment, he forced himself to stay upright. "This is not good, Lizzy."
"I know our situation is a bad one," she brushed strands of hair that fell to the backs of her knees behind her ears.
Without seeming to look behind him, or even caring, Gary flipped his glaive so the blade pointed behind him and thrust back, catching a Resistance Trainer in the midsection. "Nope not good. Is bad, very very badWell, I'm off to thin the ranks! Protect 'im, Liz!"
"You don't have to tell me that," she retrieved the rapiers she had dropped before healing Ash, cleaning the flat of the blades on her breeches, brown and red stains inter-mingling with several others. "I would have, anyway."
"I do not need protection," as if to prove his point he threw out one hand, aura flaring up around him and a wave of electricity pouring from his fingertips. Writhing like snakes, each individual string hit whomever he wished, throwing Trainers back and killing several.
When the violent display of power was cut off, he collapsed, breathing heavily. After a few minutes, Ash sat up, brushing mud slicked strands of hair from his eyes. Surveying his handiwork, he allowed a slight grin of satisfaction to surface.
Seeing they were heavily outnumbered and their leaders gone, the remains of the small army fled for their lives without a backward glance.
That was an unfortunate move for some of them. The stragglers barely heard the hiss and did not feel feathered death plant itself in the back of their necks. Plucking his bowstring effectively, Todd unstrung the simple, wooden bow, slinging it over one shoulder. Turning to his Lieutenant, a young blonde man named Richie, he grinned. "Good, that should be the last of them!" Trotting to fallen bodies, he proceeded to retrieve gray-flighted arrows he used with deadly accuracy, wiping off wickedly sharp steelheads before slipping them into a nearly empty quiver. "I believe it's safe to say we won?"
"Yeah," Richie frowned, confusion clouding cerulean eyes. "Butwhy were we attacked? Who were they, anyway?"
"No idea."
Cleaning his blade on the trim of his quickly donned cloak, he sheathed it and joined his Master. "You don't think"
"Heyla! Matten!" he cut him off. The silent red haired Plant Trainer grinned at both of them. "Glad to see you survived last night!"
"Yeah," he replied quietly, handing the Flying Master three slim shafted arrows. "Good to see you too, little brother, Richie. Goddess bless."
"Yep, and may she smile on you," he grinned. "She doesn't smile upon any of us often"
"Hey! Todd! Matten! Are you alright?" Anne called.
"Yeah, and you?" Matten replied.
Turning a deep scarlet, the Flying Trainer walked towards them with a noticeable limp. "II think I'm alright..."
"One got a hit on you, hmm?" Todd's grin broadened. "No need to be embarrassed, dear sister of mine, it could a happened to anyone."
"Shut up," she punched him in the shoulder when she reached them. "You may be older, but you're much more of an idiot than I am." Brushing wisps of strawberry blonde hair behind her ears, she sighed. "I hate rain."
"You and me both," Marie smiled, exiting their tent upon seeing the danger had passed.
"I'm guessing breakfast is a vain hope?" Gary's Dodrio trotted to them, and he grinned from its back. "You all certainly seemed to have enjoyed yourselves last nightwithout me." He made a face. "Decided to leave me only a bit of fun, eh?"
Heading towards the small gaggle with Liz, Ash shot him a glare. "Gary, what are you doing here?"
"Got word you might be attacked by a very nice Pidgey from an unknown but helpful messenger," his eyes hardened. "What were they after?"
"If only we knew," Misty sighed, trying to brush a large crimson stain from her pajama bottomsand failing. "Nice to see you, though, Gary."
"Umm" he his cheeks flushed a bright red. "Nice to see you too, Misty."
"'Twas only obvious they were tryin' ta kill Master Ash," the Fire Trainer cut him off, much to his dismay. He glared at his back, mouthing obscene words. "Their purpose was ta keep us back, an' their Leader was no' payin' any special attention ta the rest o' us." Gritting his teeth, he slammed a dirk home into its sheath at his side. "Damn those sentries fo' fallin' asleep!"
"By the way, I never had a chance to thank youum" Ash began.
"Blade," Gary introduced the Trainer. "Thank you, Blade. You saved us all a lot of grief."
"No nee' ta thank me, I'm jus' doin' what I ha' been trained ta do," Blade grinned fiercely.
Ash didn't bother to argue. Gazing at the Masters, Lieutenants, and remaining Trainers, he clenched one fist, then quietly, almost inaudibly, "the Resistance is back."
Silence descended like a blanket, the rain the only sound for several moments. They all stood at unease, and Liz spoke first. "No"
"They are, Lizzy," he interrupted. "They have stepped back, gathered their resources and are attacking again. There's no questioning the matter.
"If they are after my blood, we must leave, and quickly. We can not put our Trainers in needless danger. Mount up, and hurry. Bring your Lieutenants if you mustbut we need to move swiftly."
"Ash" Anne grasped his arm.
"At the moment there are more lives at risk than I can possibly be accountable for," he brushed her unsaid concern to the side. "Let's move out."

A slim quarter of an hour later they were at a fast walk, accompanied by Misty's Lieutenant Rainier, Blade, Kenner, and Matten. Their direction was west, heading for the Indigo Plateau where the League Palace resided.
The Palace itself had been built to long ago for anyone to care by the first Masters, mainly the Elite Four. The Four were the Masters of the Dragon, Ghost, Strength, and Ice types. Not only were they Masters of unique and rare elements, they normally were the best Pokemon Trainers under the League Champion. The actual home of the entire League, consisting of their unofficial Leader, the Normal Master, followed in rank by the Champion, the Elite and all Masters under them, Lieutenants, and Trainers of each type, was little more than an apartment complex and an office building near the Palace.
At the moment, they were hard pressed to return as quickly as was possible.
Biting her lip, Liz cast a glance to where the present League Champion conversed with his future wife and the Fire Lieutenant. To anyone else, Ash seemed calm and untroubled. Knowing someone for three years came with the understanding of his or her moods. He was on edge, and worried. What gnawed at her was that he had no concern for himself, and for that simple reason she wanted to slap him, hard. Gritting her teeth, she managed to resist the urge.
If someone, if he is right, the Resistance, wants to kill Ashthey will have to get through me first.
The thought comforted her, but it also forced her to remember she was not his mother. Truthfully, he had not been in need of a maternal figure since he was seven, and probably had no wish for one at nineteen. At sixteen she had been his comfort and dear friend. Now, she was the annoying, over-tensed woman in the purple cloak.
Still, if he was going to shrug off an assassination attempt and the return of the Resistance, she was going to worry for him.
Any thought of the Resistance still made her shiver, even after all of this time. They had all been League Masters, in the Past. Every commoner and child knew they could never be the True Masters to head the League. Unable to form the essential bond with their Pokemon had been their downfall, filling in positions until a Trainer strong in the element and able to make the necessary Mental Link could take their rightful place.
It had not been until Ash had challenged the Elite 4 several years ago that those Trainers were found. The old Masters were stripped of dearly held titles, forced to surrender them to mere children.
A short year later, the result was war.
Sides had been chosen. You fought along side the League, or you did not, no one stood on the sidelines. Many left for the Resistance, or joined by force. Pushing those bloody seasons to the back of her mind, she hoped they would be lost to the haze of half memories and fragmented thoughts of Past and Future. That was the price of being the Psychic Mistresssometimes the here and now could be lost to the then and to be.
A gentle hand on her shoulder surprised her. It was Rainier, riding beside her on a Water Rapidash identical to the one his Mistress rode. Jaw length hair matched his indigo cloak, blue eyes filled with concern.
"Are you alright, Mistress Elisabeth?"
I am fine, Rainier," she patted his hand. "Ijust need to think."
"Think"?! If she was not on the back of a moving creature she would have been in a trance, trying to see what Ash's future wasif he had any!
Seeming to accept her reply anyway, the Water Lieutenant gave her shoulder a last assuring squeeze before he moved off. Poor boy, he and his youngest brother were the only members of his family that had chosen the League, and he knew very well that he might have to kill the two brothers that had joined the Resistance in battle.
"Oh, yes, Lizzy. Think, all you want," the masculine whisper in her ear almost caused her to scream, but she kept her cry locked in. Her startled expression turned sour. Ash had ridden up next to her and now sat grinning demonically. She really wanted to slap him, now.
"Don't do that, ever again," she finally whispered. His slightly lopsided grin only broadened. The need to slap him became stronger; he did not have his hood up. "Ash Ketchum, I swear, if that Pikachu"
"Pikachu's up ahead," he replied, not protesting when she reached over and pulled his hood over already dripping black hair. Strands grown out after her last "hack job" now framed a slightly girlish face. Too big brown eyes and a boyish touch were offset by hardened features and prominent cheekbones. He looked so innocent, tufts of hair sticking out of his hood, blinking his eyes to keep rainwater from them.
Knowing he was far from that state was hard.
"So, Lizzy, tell me honestly. What the hell are you so high strung about?" his look told her she was not going to easily get out of this one, so she didn't even try.
"You could have been killed todayand you now have an entire army with bitter hearts after your bloodYet you ask me why I'm high strung," she shook her head. "I worry about you, sometimes."
"Yeah, someone needs to, I suppose."
"You 'suppose'?" she was rather proud of herself. Her fist had not come in contact with his jaw. "Ashton, are you feeling alright?"
"Never better."
The comment was to offhand, immediately Liz knew something was very wrong. Not saying anything, she put one hand on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she remained in the same position, letting him know she was there without saying it. Stubbornness was one of Ash's main traits; if offered he would not accept help. If it was given before, he could say anythingthat was another matter.
"Liz, you're needed ahead."
Brock's quiet statement brought her back to the Present. Smiling at Ash, she tightened her grip slightly before urging the Psychic Rapidash to a trot. In those few moments, she had traveled many paths in time. Most of Ash's paths were clouded, and far more than she liked ended abruptly.
The Future is not decided by a reading, it is by the decisions we make now, nothing moreI just hope you're making the right choices.
Knowing how reckless and headstrong he was capable of being did not in anyway reassure her.
*********
One more part and you'll have the entire first chapter! Confused? So am I. These characters are actually from a story I wrote with a friend called "Mindless Spiral" that I will eventually type up. But Resistance came first.