My exclusion couldn’t be blamed on a lack of effort on my part.
But each of my requests to tag along were met with things like, “it’s too dangerous,” and, “Janine would kill me!” and, “When a less risky mission pops up, I swear.”
At least he let me sit in and listen to the initial interview with the confused Stufful. The pink cub kept wrinkling her nose, before letting out tremendous sneezes. The light dusting of blue powder on her was likely the culprit, and Hemmer, Wilson’s assigned Skiddo, was able to confirm that the poor Pokémon had been struck with a heavy dose of Sleep Powder.
We could have offered her an Awakening, but the medicine would have been a shock to the juvenile Pokémon’s system that she probably didn’t need. Plus, she seemed to be fighting off the enervating effects of the powder well enough on her own.
Well enough that Wilson could ask her questions and get something resembling coherent answers back. “So your mom woke you up as normal, and left the den to patrol your territory as normal, while your dad went hunting, as normal. Do I have that right?”
The repetition was for my sake, as I frantically scrawled notes detailing the Stufful’s answers to our questions.
“Stuff, Stufful!” the little pink bear confirmed, along with a nod of the head.
“Alright, and what happened after that?”
“Stufful! Stuff, stu, f-f-f-full Stuff!” the cub replied, sitting on her haunches as she gesticulated with surprising expressiveness. Her powerful limbs flew about wildly, and I had to resist the urge to scoot back in my chair a little bit as I heard the wind whipping about from her flailings.
After the close encounter Philip and I had shared with a Bewear a few months back, I’d read up on Cesnine forest’s most dangerous denizens. The Fighting/Normal-types were, quite notoriously, as lethal as he’d told me, and also vanishingly rare. That was probably a good thing, since even a Stufful just a few days old was strong enough to fell trees, and when they actually used moves, they could be completely devastating.
The thought that there might be an enraged couple of those Pokémon, out in Cesnine forest looking for their cub? That was terrifying.
“Ok, so after your parents left, you went out to play by the den. You’re not sure how long you were playing, but you do remember smelling something strange, and then after that, the next thing you remember is waking up here?”
“Stufful!” she confirmed, nodding her head emphatically.
I finished writing down what she had told us while Wilson turned to the third occupant of our side of the table. The matronly Spinda’s nauseating eyes were focused on the Stufful, her expression inscrutable. A few whispered words in her ear from the senior ranger had her nodding, before she hopped down from her chair, and called out to the Stufful.
I couldn’t catch exactly what she said, but I thought I made out implications of ‘joy’ and ‘play.’ Stuful certainly responded well, the pink-furred cub eagerly following the tottering Normal-type down the hall towards the reserve we kept out back.
“Spinda will watch out for Stufful while we find her parents. Then, Bakiru can teleport her to us.”
“Do you know where they’re likely to be?” I asked. “Cesnine is a pretty big forest. You guys have been looking for whoever cub-napped that poor Pokémon for days.
“Sure, but that idiot could have been anywhere.” Wilson replied, his disdain clear from his tone. “On the other hand, there’s only two pairs of Bewear with cubs currently in the forest, and the other set have a trio of younglings,” he informed me. “I’ll have Liken call everyone else up and meet me there. We’re gonna need some serious firepower if we’re going to calm down a pair of rampaging Bewear.”
“We can help!” I jumped in hurriedly to offer. “My knights will have a type advantage that we can really leverage, and they don’t have to worry about being pinned since I can recall one of them to recall all of them.”
Wilson didn’t even think before shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous, Fe. Bewear are no joke, and these two will be riled up besides. I promise I’m not just being difficult. This is going to be actually, dangerously unsafe. We’d probably ask Mark to sit this one out, if his partner wasn’t so good at playing backline support.”
Somehow, knowing I was being excluded for a good reason didn’t make the refusal sting any less. “Well, be careful then. Stay safe out there,” I offered, trying to put on a brave front.
I must’ve been unable to keep the dissatisfaction off my face, however, because the senior ranger sighed. “I’m sorry we’ve had so little time to work with you the past month Fe, things are just out of control recently. It feels like we’re all pulling double-shifts these days. We can’t even keep up with our regular duties, let alone set out time for training.”
“I get it,” I told him, though I sounded unconvincing even to my own ears. “Hopefully things will settle down soon and we can get back to it.”
I looked to check Wilson’s reaction, and found his expression far away, the man obviously mulling something over. “Actually,” he started after a pregnant pause, “now that I think about it, maybe I do have something you can help with.”
-
On the one hand, delivering this month’s ‘tribute’ to our informants in Cesnine forest wasn’t exactly the most glamorous of duties.
And on the other, at least it was something.
Apparently, no one had had a chance this month to bring the forest’s head Honchkrow her dues for the work her flock did keeping us informed. Wilson had intended to get to it after this missing-person’s case was solved, but after consulting Janine via radio, he was willing to hand it off to me to handle.
I was a tad bit nervous, I’d only met the Honchkrow once more, when Wilson introduced me a couple of months ago on a similar supply run, but any anxiety was far outweighed by the relief I got from being trusted with doing, really just about anything at this point.
Even if that thing was as simple as leading a trio of Skiddo laden with saddlebags to a clearing in the forest.
There was the potential of getting attacked, the medicine, berries, and food we were carrying would be appealing for many wild Pokémon, but the really powerful denizens of the forest knew better than to bother trying to steal from the head Honchkrow, and the weaker ones would be easy to deal with.
That didn’t stop Wilson from fussing over me as he made his own preparations. “Bakiru, when you get the signal, teleport in with the cub. Fe, you know what to do if anything comes up, right?”
“I’ll call the station first, and then you all if I can’t get through,” I reassured the bustling man, even as I made my own efforts to inventory everything we were bringing along. It wasn’t like counting the supplies while carrying the conversation was difficult. “And I’ve got the landmarks memorized, and even written down. I’ll be fine out there.”
The man hesitated between his preparations for a moment. “Just, be careful Fe,” he finally replied. “Things have been out of hand recently. The mission is important, but your safety matters way more.”
“I should say the same to you,” I replied dryly. “You’re the ones about to confront two angry Bewear.”
“I guess you’ve got me there,” the senior ranger replied with a rueful chuckle. “But we should be fine, between the five of us. Frankly, having everyone on hand is probably overkill, but this isn’t the sort of confrontation you want to go into without every possible reassurance.”
I bit back my instinctual retort, that apparently they were fine without the reassurance of my team and I’s presence. Instead, I turned my grit teeth into as convincing a smile as I could muster. “Well be careful all the same,” I told him, as I hopped on Clover’s back, and put my hands on her horns. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow Fe. And don’t forget to write your report for the mission!”
-
Calling this mission a milk run would be generous. At least the milkman had to deal with multiple addresses. The process would be time-consuming, however. Three hours into the forest, and then another three out.
The head Honchkrow kept her roost deep in Cesnine’s southern half, and while it wasn’t actually that far as the Murkrow flies, the tangled web of territories and terrain within the forest made getting there for everyone else take substantially longer.
Not to mention the slowdown inflicted on us by the sensitive supplies we were carrying.
Or more specifically, the berries. It wasn’t that we couldn’t go tearing through the forest at top speed, but doing so on the uneven ground would have resulted in plenty of bruises and contusions on the precious fruits, a sure way to show disrespect to one of the forest’s most powerful denizens.
Hence, the careful, measured pace we had to maintain. The trio of Skiddos still went faster than I’d be able to walk, but only barely.
I was of course mounted on Clover, her grassy fur tickling my legs from where it tufted up beneath the (mostly) crimson saddle she was wearing. I could tell that she was almost as excited to get out of the station as I was, considering the prancing and preening she was doing as she led her siblings deeper into the forest’s depths.
Hyacinth and Myrrh brought up the rear, both similarly attired. Unlike their sister, however, they were not burdened with living riders, (each had a maus atop them, but the tiny Normal-types could hardly be called a burden) carrying instead a set of saddlebags packed with our tribute to the forest’s corvid informants. Twenty-five kilograms of mixed berries, double that amount in grub meal Poké chow, one gallon of herbal medicine in mixed containers, and a sackful of shiny baubles.
The Techne ranger corp’s monthly contribution to the head Honchkrow’s doubtlessly massive stash.
We weren’t the only ones who paid into it, either. Tellur Town’s corp made their own contributions to stay informed, as did the wild Pokémon living under the Dark-type’s aegis.
And that wasn’t to mention what her own murder brought home to the roost via the normal myriad of methods you’d associate with the cunning corvids.
Really, the whole thing seemed, in many ways, uncomfortably close to the sort of structure you heard about in city gangs. I guess the difference was, the head Honchkrow didn’t technically extort things from people or Pokémon, she just made her services so indispensable that it was basically the same thing.
The route to the murder’s roost was a well-trodden one. A clearly-defined ‘mon trail that we picked up pretty quickly once we were into the forest proper. A crimson signpost with some shorthand on it denoted the trail’s start, and after that, it was just about tracking the landmarks.
Cross the small steam near the downed tree.
Add a stone to the cairn on the mossy boulder, (but make sure you didn’t accidentally stack a geodude on the pile) and then take a right around it.
Go left at the lightning-struck tree and never make eye-contact with the electrode buried in its heart.
Skirt the edges of the Trevenant grove while ignoring the groans, wails, and screams coming from its depths.
Basic, mundane navigational tricks.
The real key was being careful to make sure you didn’t go off course. Which is where my keen-eyed partners came in. One Maus each atop a Skiddo’s back. I’d call out the next waypoint in our journey, and then the four of us would work in tandem to make sure we didn’t miss it.
The mauses were also quite adroit lookouts, their beady eyes peeled for trouble as we progressed through the forest. Just because we were safe from the more powerful denizens of the forest, didn’t mean we weren’t in danger from some of its weaker upstarts.
After all, even the meekest Rattata can bite back when cornered, and any Pokémon willing to attack our convoy were either ignorant, or terribly, terribly desperate.
Unfortunately for us, the first bandit to waylay us was obviously the latter. Unfortunately, because that meant they didn’t face us head on, electing instead to strike from ambush.
Our warning came in the form of a whistling noise, and an alarmed squeak from one of the mauses that told all of us to watch out! I didn’t hesitate. Ever since failing to heed Mana’s warning a few months back in the maus skirmish, I’d worked on my ability to respond quickly to my partners’ warnings.
Which mostly meant throwing myself to the ground at their command for hours at a time in the padded section of the outpost’s gym.
Lance had gotten a bit of a kick out of that, for sure, but the training was paying dividends now, as I instantly threw myself from Clover’s back with my own shout of, “Get down!” trusting my syn to protect me from the fall.
And trusting that whatever the maus had warned me about was worse than crashing to the forest floor.
The log that went sailing by overhead right where I’d been astride Clover’s back told me that I’d made the right decision. I scrambled to my feet, releasing Mana and my knights onto the forest floor as I looked to the source of the projectile.
I didn’t have to wait long, as a trembling figure used massive, knife-sharp claws to cut their way through the trees. I sucked in a breath between my teeth, as the distinctive white fur of a Vigoroth caught the dim light filtering through the trees above. The Pokémon’s face was pulled in a rictus snarl, and their crest was red and swollen, pulsing with the increased blood flow.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The source of the wild Pokémon’s distress was obvious, a huge gash cut across their chest that was slowly oozing blood tinged with purple. Somehow, they’d been struck with a move that had enough power that their syn couldn’t properly buffer all of it without knocking them unconscious outright. That, along with the obvious poisoning, had clearly sent this Vigoroth into a frenzy.
Well, more of a frenzy than you’d usually expect from this type of Pokémon.
“Knights, Brass’ gambit, Mana, get some water going, Maushold, cover the Skiddo!” I shouted a flurry of orders, sheltering behind my knights as the Vigoroth let out a pained screech.
They sliced a huge branch of a nearby tree, cutting it free from its arboreal progenitor with contemptuous ease. Darkened energy surrounded the branch, before they used Fling to hurl it into our formation, the wooden projectile screaming as it tore through the air.
It slammed into my knights’ Protect with a piercing crash, the entire thing exploding into splinters on the scintillating green barrier.
“Vigoroth! We don’t need to fight. We’re just passing through!” I shouted at the wild Pokémon, hoping against hope that my words might somehow get them to calm down.
The returning howl was tinged with rage, and desperation, and bitter, awful need. Clearly, this confrontation wasn’t about us crossing some invisible boundary line that hadn’t been here before. No, this Vigoroth needed what we had. And they were willing, maybe eager to take it by force.
“If you need help, we can give it!” I shouted at the wild Pokémon, negotiating and delaying in equal turns as my partners prepared. “Let’s just talk this out!”
This time, the only response from the Normal-type was another Flung branch, and then a scrambling charge out of the treeline.
“Prep time’s done,” I shouted at the team. “Knights, Almian, Mana, make sure nothing sneaks up on us. Vigoroth usually travel in troupes,” the last thing we needed was another Vigoroth, or even worse, a Slaking getting the drop on us.
My knights didn’t bother shouting affirmatives, electing instead to charge forwards, meeting the wild Pokémon head-on. Mana did acknowledge my orders, letting out a cry as she blinked her spotlights into existence. The twin beams of ochre light swept around the darkened forest canopy, looking to illuminate any arboreal ambushers.
With a crash, knight and beast made contact, the Vigoroth laying about themself with sweeping Slashes. My knights, boosted by a No Retreat and a Bulk Up, easily weathered the blows, and their retaliatory Rock Smashes were obviously devastating.
Weakened as it was, the Vigoroth couldn’t stand up to too many of my knight’s empowered blows. With a keening wail, the Normal-type collapsed, the frantic energy animating them draining in an instant, as they fell unconscious to the forest floor.
For a few seconds, the trail was quiet, the ambient sounds of unseen wild Pokémon deadened by the howls of battle. My knights quietly shuffled in place, gently poking the downed sloth to make sure that they were truly out of the fight. Mana’s eyebeams twitched towards any sound disturbing the silence, and Maushold stood in a protective triangle around the Skiddo, who’d formed their own defensive formation.
And then, a low, mournful weeping came out of the trees. The source of the sound was instantly illuminated in bioluminescent yellow, revealing a Slakoth, tucked protectively in a crook of a nearby tree, where they could watch the battle.
Slowly, I approached the tree holding the crying Pokémon, gesturing for my knights to follow. “Slakoth, can you come down here? We just want to talk, I promise. I’m a ranger, so it’s my job to help wild Pokémon like you and your troupe-mate,” I gestured towards the unconscious Vigoroth,” but to help you, I need to know what’s wrong.”
The Normal-type let out a few more sniffles, and shook their head back and forth.
“I promise that I want to help,” I put as much sincerity into my voice as I could, and after a little hesitation, just a little bit more. It wasn’t easy, divorced from the desperation and aching need I’d been experiencing when I’d last used my syn, but I still felt something, some small energy leaving my chest, and when my words came out, they echoed through the forest, carrying further and higher than they should have.
The Slakoth looked down at me for a few moments, their cries subsiding into bleary blinking. Slowly, deliberately, they shook their head again, but this time, they held up one arm, or tried to. I sucked in air between my teeth as I saw the way their whole arm hung limply from their shoulder socket as they tried in vain to lift it.
“Nevermind Slakoth, just stay right there, we’ll be up in a second to get you, okay?”
The wild Pokémon stared down at me for a few moments, and then gave me a slow nod.
I turned to my knights. “Alright guys, give me a stack, the first branches are too high for me to reach on my own.”
My knights looked up at the tree, before turning to me with skeptical expressions on their faces. “Looks, it’s just climbing a tree,” I reassured them. “How hard could it be?”
-
As it turned out, pretty hard. Especially when I had to descend while half-holding an injured sloth.
Once I got down far enough though, I could hand Slakoth to my stacked knights, who gently bore him to the ground. I followed shortly after, and we returned to the trail, my knights trundling after me as I cradled the wild Pokémon. The Slakoth was young, unless I was missing my guess. Not quite an infant, but clearly juvenile, and the broken arm was only the most severe of his injuries. Contusions and bruises covered the young Pokémon, far more significant wounds than would come from any normal battle.
These types of injuries spoke to some sort of natural disaster, or a fight for one’s life. Just what had happened to these two Pokémon?
Trying to get answers from the younger one proved, mostly fruitless, when asked, the only thing I could get from them was impressions of fear.
Which meant that if I wanted answers, I needed to wake up the Vigoroth.
Before that though, there were a couple of things to take care of. Part of me spooled off, focusing on treating the juvenile Pokémon’s wounds, once I had his permission. Maushold helped me, acting as my assistants and second, third, and fourth sets of hands while I bandaged the Normal-type up, and got a splint on his arm.
Another part of me was keeping an eye out along with Mana and my knights, making sure that Vigoroth wasn’t about to spring into violent wakefulness, and that nothing else was about to attack us.
The rest of my attention went to the radio I took off my belt, thumbing the button to connect to the ranger station. “This is Private Alvida, hailing Techne Outpost Seven, are you there, over?”
It took a few tries, before the indicator light finally flashed green. “This is Liken, everything good Fe?” the dispatcher’s laconic voice came from the crimson device’s tinny speakers.
“Not exactly. We got attacked on our way by a wild Pokémon. An injured Vigoroth, with a severe laceration showing signs of poisoning.” We’d rolled the Vigoroth onto her back, revealing her weeping wound, and Maushold were trying to clean it out as best they could with a cloth wet by Mana’s water. “This looks pretty severe, and I’m not sure how much we can do in the field.” I relayed to the dispatcher, as the Slakoth let out a mournful moan next to me. “Oh, and I’ve got a Slakoth here too, with less severe injuries, but a broken arm. Over.”
“Yikes Fe, things are never boring when you’re involved are they?” Liken’s voice was resigned, but quickly took on the characteristic energy he gained whenever something important was happening. “You’ve got Poké Balls on you, right? Over.”
I took a quick inventory, checking my bag so I was 100% certain. “Three of them,” I told him. “Standard complement. All keyed for return to Outpost Seven. Over”
“Good. If you can’t treat their wounds in the field, send them here. I’ll have Bakiru keep an eye out for the transfer signal, and when they come through, I’ll run them to the Pokémon center. Over.”
“Understood. I’ll let you know when we’re done trying to treat them.” I told him, as I fished around in Clover’s saddlebags for an antidote. Thanks for the advice Liken, over.”
“Anytime Fe. Stay careful out there. Outpost Seven, out,” the green light clicked off, telling me that the connection had been severed for now. I stashed the radio, and turned a critical eye to the unconscious Normal-type in front of me.
Her wound was still weeping blood, and showed little sign of stopping. I’d expect a healthy Pokémon to scab this sort of injury over quickly, but the poison was an obviously complicating factor, as was the Vigoroth’s evident exhaustion.
A warbling warning from Mana brought my attention to the Normal-type’s eyes, which were fluttering as the white-furred Pokémon struggled to sit up.
“Don’t try to move Vigoroth, you’re hurt pretty badly, and too much motion is just going to make things worse,” I warned the supine sloth, staying carefully out of range of her long-limbed claws. “I’m sorry we had to knock you out, but you weren’t listening to us. I promise, we just want to help you and Slakoth.”
At the mention of the juvenile Pokémon’s name, the Vigoroth’s eyes shot open, and in spite of my warning, she tried to push herself upright on trembling arms. “Vigor, Virgoroth!” She shouted, a threatening growl in her voice.
“Slakoth!” The younger Normal-type cried from over where Maushold were looking him over. At my gesture, they helped him lumber over, where he promptly fell atop the Vigoroth’s chest, crying softly into her bloody fur.
All energy left the Normal-type’s shuddering limbs, and she laid back, one gentle claw stroking the fur on the back of the weeping Slakoth’s head. She growled softly, offering comforts and reassurances to the young Pokémon in rumbling tones.
The Slakoth, presumably exhausted (and also a Slakoth) lasted just a few seconds, before the sweet embrace of sleep claimed him, his face still scrunched up in concern, even in repose.
After a few quiet seconds to make sure that the younger Pokémon was truly settled, the Vigoroth looked back up at me, her eyes narrowed.
I held up my hands in what I hoped was a placating gesture. “I get that something attacked you two, and I understand that you’re angry, but hurting us won’t help anything. We just want to help you, I promise.”
I put a little bit of myself into the words, even though it made my chest ache like I’d found some way to pull a muscle in it.
To my great relief, the expenditure seemed worth it, as the Vigoroth’s eyes softened, and she let out an acknowledging huff.
Still, I approached carefully, and only started trying to treat her (with Maushold’s help) once I had her explicit permission. “I know this is bitter, but if you drink it, it’ll help with the poison,” I offered the antidote, and let her down it in her own time, while Maushold and I worked at cleaning her wounds with a cloth wet with Mana’s water.
“What happened, Vigoroth? And where is the rest of your troupe?” I asked her while we worked, trying to get to the bottom of things. “I’ve never seen a wound like this before.” Not that I’d seen a lot of wounds in general.
“Vig, roth, roth, Vigoroth!” the Normal-type explained, clearly resisting the urge to use her arms to gesture. The meaning wasn’t wholly clear to me, but some things came through well enough. Intruder. Danger. Scattered.
“Something attacked your troupe?” I asked, more than a little surprised. A group of Slakoth’s and their evolutions was a dangerous target, and that was especially true when working alone.
And yet, the sense I got from the Vigoroth was singular. One intruder.
“Roth” the wild Pokémon confirmed, before suppressing a shudder. “Vigoroth.”
“This was just this morning?” I confirmed, making sure I’d heard right.
Another nod, and a weak, “Vigor.”
“And what was this intruder like? Their species, or typing?” I asked, prying for more information.
“Vigoroth…” The wild Pokémon sounded unsure, and then fired off a rapid series of grunts and calls describing the attacker. I wasn’t able to parse most of it, so I turned to my partners.
“Did you guys get that?” I asked them, checking in with my team.
Neither Maushold nor Mana had caught it, focused on treating Vigoroth and watching out for threats respectively, but my knights understood, relaying what they’d heard as best they could.
“It was flying, and seemed dark?” I confirmed, a little bit confused. “But also a little bit smaller than me, and it flew erratically?” The Vigoroth nodded, and I wracked my brain for any Pokémon that matched that description, while being able to inflict this sort of injury. It sounded sort of like a Honchkrow or a Murkrow, but neither of those Pokémon used Poison-type moves, as far as I knew. Maybe a Gligar or a Beedrill? But that wouldn’t explain the ‘dark.’
Suddenly, the Vigoroth jerked, eyes wide and lips pulled back in a snarl. She tried again to rise, struggling against her failing limbs.
“What’s wrong? I asked the sloth, hastily backing out of range in case she lashed out.
“Vigoroth,” the wild Pokémon snarled, her expression tight and voice strained. I’d worried that something had made her angry, but looking now, she seemed more– scared. She placed a protective arm around the Slakoth still sleeping fitfully on her chest, even as her eyes cast about frantically.
“Maushold!” A trio of squeaks brought my attention down to my newest partners, who had scattered off the Vigoroth when she moved. All three of them were standing on their tip-toes, ears splayed wide like radar-dishes.
“You hear something?” I asked, which got two nods and a head shake. I was close, but not exactly there. “Something’s coming?” I tried again, and this time, I got a full trio of nods.
Deep gasping breaths brought my attention back to Vigoroth, who’s eyes were slowly glazing over, her unburdened claw clenching as panic, fear, and rage warred on her features.
“Vigoroth, what’s happening?” I snapped, putting an air of command in my voice. She didn’t respond, still casting about and struggling to rise, Slakoth curled protectively against her chest. “Vigoroth, what do you hear?” I tried once more, this time, exerting myself just a little bit more. I tasted the barest hint of iron in my throat, but this time, the wild Pokémon responded.
“Vig, Vigoroth.” She said in low tones, responding to my question without seeming to notice she’d done so. Her fear, her latent dread, was so thick in the words, it somehow made them easier to parse. Buzzing. Again.
And suddenly, I could hear it. Now that it’d been pointed out to me, I wondered how I’d ever missed it. A droning whine in the back of my ears, its pitch oscillating back and forth. One moment, like the static from a bank of disconnected speakers, the next, the ambient sounds of a factory, where heavy-machinery drowned out all coherent thought.
And it was growing steadily louder, quickly muffling other sounds under a fractal blanket of discordant, buzzing cacophony.
Whatever had attacked the Slakoth troupe, was nearer than I’d thought. One more glance at that panicking Normal-type, and I made a decision. “Vigoroth, I have a couple of Poké Balls here. They’ll send you to a safe place, where someone can take care of you. It’ll be like going to sleep, and when you wake up, everything will be okay. I promise. Can I use them on you and Slakoth?”
It was a testimony to the wild Pokémon’s abject fear, that she didn’t hesitate for even a second, turning pleading eyes to mine, and nodding frantically.
I snatched the two balls from their pouch on my crimson jacket, and ran over to the pair, gently touching each of them with the button end of the ball, and letting them fall from my hands. They snapped open, inhaling the wild Pokémon with a whirring hum that almost overcame the sound of the ambient buzz, for just a moment.
And then, it was done, both balls falling to the forest floor, where they rocked once, and then fell still. The Poké Balls began glowing, registering that I was over my carry limit, and keying to return to outpost seven.
And then, with a sound like something shattering, the glowing energy surrounding the balls dissipated, leaving them inert on the forest floor. I blinked a few times, completely nonplussed, before tearing the radio off my belt. I clicked the button to send a call to Liken’s dispatcher board, and the indicator light glowed green for one brief moment. Before switching over to a pulsing, negatory red.
Connection lost. I thumbed the radio to another channel, trying the open signal for any rangers nearby. And got the same result. One more try, on the mayday, open channel. And another flashing red light.
The droning sound was getting louder.
I grabbed the two balls off the forest floor and turned to my team. The Skiddo had all huddled together, backs to one another in a triangular formation. My knight surrounded them, eyes darting to and fro, looking into the quivering trees for any sense of our unseen assailant. Each Skiddo had a Maus astride its head, cheeks swollen with seeds, ready to loose at the slightest danger. And in the center of them all hovered Mana, her glowing eyes frantically darting, illuminating the darkened spots between trees with frantic motions.
I had confidence in my team. I knew we were strong. We’d been training for months now, so we wouldn’t have to be scared. So that we’d be ready for any challenge.
And yet. I looked down at the two Poké Balls in my hands. Remembered the fear in the Vigoroth’s eyes. Were we really stronger than any entire troupe of Slakoth? Presumably with at least one Slaking at the head? What if I was wrong. I’d promised these Pokémon that when they woke up, it would be somewhere safe.
I hesitated, unsure what the right choice was.
As it turns out, choice is sometimes a luxury. One that hesitation can cost you.
The droning whine swelled into a buzzing crescendo, like an entire nest of Beedrill had just teleported into the trees around us. Mana’s bioluminescent beams locked onto a patch of darkness, and unlike before, the shadows didn’t peel away under her gaze, intensifying instead, as a pair of crimson, fractal eyes peered back at us from that inscrutable well of darkness.
Whatever it was that had attacked the Vigoroth and her troupe, it had arrived.
