"I understand everything our leader says. But you know what? Doing stuff like digging up a super-ancient Pokémon and ripping off someone's meteorite…I think we're going a little too far. What do you think?"
*'*'*
He leans against the side of one of the drills, waiting for his patrol shift to end. The chance of anyone actually showing up that isn't supposed to be there is close to zero, so he doesn't really see the point in guarding –
An alarm begins to blare, accompanied by a short message that is announced over the tinny PA system. "Intruder alert! Intruder alert! All members are to report to their posts! I repeat, all members are to report to their posts! The intruder is to be captured upon sight! Any members seen assisting the intruder will face serious and immediate consequences!" He curses under his breath in response to this change of plan and starts to walk around his assigned area as if he had been doing so the whole time. He would much rather be fixing these vehicles than patrolling in the general vicinity of them, but they're already in tip-top shape. His eyes wander to the controls as he wonders what it would be like to actually drive one of these things. It wouldn't be too difficult for him to learn, considering that he had helped construct parts of it, albeit minor ones, and that he had seen every gear and screw inside of it. The main thing is that he would have to get the keys for it. Imagine, the so-called newbie deftly controlling what the operators had rightfully dubbed a monster of a machine! It would be glorious. And – no, he refuses to let himself think like that. It wouldn't be reasonable to take a ride on one of those things because in real life, such rash behaviour almost always brings about negative consequences. Him, one of the youngest members of the organisation and only informally trained member of the mechanics sector, operate complicated machinery? Ridiculous.
He pulls his eyes away from the machine just in time to spot a small figure dash around the corner of one of the generators in the room. He noiselessly releases his – well, not his, so to say – Mightyena out of its Poké Ball and points in the direction that the stranger ran off to. The hum of the machinery covers up the sound of the grunt and the Dark-type running after what, after a second glance, appears to be a young boy with a white hat. The grunt has no qualms in sending his Pokémon to Tackle the boy, but a flash of red light causes the attack to be directed towards a Sceptile instead. The Forest Pokémon promptly counters with Quick Attack and uses its superior speed to follow up with several Leaf Blades and a powerful Slam. With his Pokémon out cold on the floor, the grunt reaches out and grabs the boy's sleeve.
Before the boy can respond in any way, the grunt finds himself speaking. "Hey kid, calm down. You've already beat me and this room is clear, so there isn't much that I can do now." A lie, of course, since he could alert the other grunts of the intruder with the push of a button as well as throw the kid into one of the many lava pits in the base, but he's curious. This kid…he's no beginner trainer. "Take a break; I'll make sure that no one comes in."
The boy raises a skeptical eyebrow, but the grunt takes out his communicator and states, "Intruder not found in Sector 3A. I repeat, intruder not found in Sector 3A, over." The boy lets out a sigh of relief and decides to finally maybe trust him. "Thanks…but why?" he asks as he returns his Sceptile to its Poké Ball, his somewhat crackly voice holding a hint of suspicion.
"If you're clever enough to get in here and avoid escape for a reasonable amount of time, as well as strong enough that you practically destroyed that Mightyena while still being around thirteen years old, you are quite obviously worth talking to." he states as if he is simply chatting about the weather. The boy accepts this as a reasonable argument and sits down beside the grunt when gestured to do so.
"I'm twelve, actually." The boy grins, clearly basking in the indirect praise.
"Even more so, then. What exactly are you trying to accomplish here, though?" He seems to actually have a purpose at least…this doesn't seem like a dare of some sort.
"I was at Mount Pyre when the Red and Blue Orbs were stolen and the old man there asked me to help get them back. Apparently, this is some real dangerous stuff and stuff could get real bad real fast. The old lady there gave me one of your team emblems after someone dropped it and said that the hideout was probably somewhere hot. Somewhere near Mount Chimney seemed like a good place to have a hideout, so I came here." He shrugs. "So yeah, now I'm here and I'm trying to make sure legendary Pokémon don't destroy everything."
The grunt whistles, partially in surprise and partially in awe. "That sounds like a massive undertaking, especially for someone your age, and it seems like you're actually doing it so far. I'm genuinely impressed." That statement, unlike his earlier one, is not a lie.
The boy pauses for a moment, appearing to be lost in thought. "Wait…you work for Team Magma and you're okay with this?" It just doesn't seem possible to him, given that the rest of them were fervently doing everything in their power to awaken the beast.
The grunt nods. "I understand everything our leader says and it does make a certain degree of sense. Heck, I hadn't even touched land until I was a few years older than you. Awakening an ancient Pokémon, however, is going too far. We're just people; we have no right to mess with the balance of the gods." After his little spiel, he realises that his dramatic side is showing and makes a mental note to be more careful about that.
The boy looks back, attempting to hide his bemusement. After all, what the other individual had said was a bit over his twelve-year-old head, not to mention the part about him not touching land. Where did he live before that, on a boat? "Yeah," he answers as he stands up, not really knowing how else to respond.
"Well, I better get going. I still gotta world to save or something." The boy smiles wryly as he brushes himself off and prepares to leave.
"Wait, kid…what's your name?" The grunt asks as he gets off of the floor as well.
"Landon Stark," the kid answers as he begins to walk out, his head turned to face this surprisingly friendly stranger.
The grunt's eyes widen in recognition. "As in Norman's son?"
Landon grins. "That's the one."
"Well, that certainly explains part of why you're so good; you've probably been exposed to battling since before you could walk."
"Heh…I guess you could say that." Landon replies, his face slightly pinker than it was before. At this point, he's almost at the exit of the room. "How about you? What's your name?"
"Nick. Nick Torr."
"Well…thanks, and nice to meet you." The boy rushes off to complete his mission, leaving the grunt wondering about their conversation. Maybe I could find Maxie later, if only for a little while…
*'*'*
"You know, losing to you cleared my mind. The next time I see our leader, I'm going to ask him about what we do."