HIS MASTER'S VOICE
Mr. Fuji's volunteer house in Lavender Town was on full alert. One of the new volunteers who wished to care for abandoned Pokémon had stumbled upon a barely conscious Sandshrew on her way to start her first day of work. This particular Sandshrew had spent days without food and was badly bruised, with entire chunks of its dry, tough hide gone, exposing its vulnerable skin. Spotting the volunteer bursting in with a wounded Pokémon, Mr. Fuji acted immediately, putting the poor Pokémon on the couch, stabilizing its condition with a potion and wrapping it up with a blanket. The other volunteers in the house, still rather young and inexperienced with Pokémon, were wringing their hands and frantically pacing around, babbling about calling a nurse from the Pokémon Center.
"Why didn't you bring it straight to the Center?" Mr. Fuji asked calmly, silencing the others.
The volunteer, a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes, gulped nervously. Mr. Fuji didn't sound angry, but there was a certain quality to this old, frail man who made the volunteer feel shame.
"I, uh," she stuttered, "well the Pokémon Center was still a couple of blocks away… plus I thought you had supplies and volunteers… see, I'm not a nurse or a doctor or anything, but I am well versed in Pokémon biology, so I thought if I…"
"You found," Mr. Fuji glanced at the Sandshrew, "him, so you wanted to cure him yourself. I just hope you haven't placed your scientific curiosity above this Pokémon's well-being, Miss…"
"Oh, uh, Greene," the volunteer babbled, surprised that Fuji was able to tell the Sandshrew's gender when even Leaf had difficulties with it. "Leaf Greene. I work… worked at the Pewter Museum, and… well, now I decided to come here. If that's okay with you…?"
"Do what you can to him," Mr. Fuji said simply, then addressed the other volunteers. "Give our newest volunteer some space, please, but assist her if it's required."
Leaf sighed in relief and leaned over the Sandshrew while grabbing a first aid kit from her shoulder bag. The potion Mr. Fuji had administered had dulled the Sandshrew's pain, and it was starting to relax, but it still writhed around and occasionally let out a squeak. Only one of its eyes was open, and it didn't seem to have any idea about its surroundings.
Finally, when Leaf started treating the Sandshrew's injuries, the Pokémon finally fell asleep. But even then, it couldn't escape what happened…
~o~O~o~
Vermilion City, Kanto (three days earlier)
It was already dark out, but the harbor was as busy as ever, with cargo ships passing in and out and dock workers yelled at each other. A tall, red-haired man wearing a black cape stood on a pier at Vermilion Harbor. Though the dock workers gave him quizzical looks, they were quick to move on when the eleven-foot Dragonite next to the man glared at them right back.
The man was Lance, champion of the Indigo League for two years now. He was once the leader the Indigo League's Elite Four, but when the last champion, Red, stepped down and later disappeared without a trace, Lance was promoted in his place. Not only a powerful Pokémon trainer who descended from the respected Blackthorn Dragon Clan, Lance was once also a member of the International Police, and was now in charge of maintaining order in the Kanto and Johto regions – at any cost. Lance ignored people's whispering and staring around him as he checked the time from is pocket watch. The man he was waiting for hadn't arrived.
Finally, a dock worker approached him, though he did it as slowly as possible, shooting worried glances in the Dragonite's direction.
"Mr. Lance," he started uncertainly, "there's, uh… a package for you."
Lance frowned, but didn't say anything as four more dock workers arrived, carrying around a large wooden crate large enough to fit two full-grown men inside it. As they lowered the crate next to Lance, the first dock worker gave a paper and a pen to the champion.
"It was sent from Gateon Port, Orre," the dock worker explained. "Came on a cargo ship a half hour ago. If would just sign here… and here… here… here… here and there. Thanks!"
Not wanting to stay in the presence of the intimidating Dragonite any longer, the five dock workers quickly left, leaving Lance to wonder about the crate he had apparently ordered. But before he could order his Dragonite to smash it open, something from within the crate kicked the lid out. Though Lance's expression remained blank, he had to take an involuntary step backwards as a man climbed out of the crate, visibly shaken.
"Whoa," he exhaled as he landed on the pier, staggering like a drunkard – looking and smelling like one too. He hadn't shaved in days, apparently. After getting his balance together, the man dusted himself off and adjusted his brown trench coat. He was dressed almost exactly like a cowboy, though he didn't have a hat, and in place of a revolver, there were six Poké Balls. Though shorter and younger than Lance, the man was in good shape. He had tanned skin, messy dark blonde hair and bright golden brown eyes, plus a fair amount of scars.
"Oh, hey, guy," he introduced himself, as if he had just spotted Lance. "You seen the champion 'round here somewhere? I was s'posed to meet him. You know the guy, right? Smug, superior, emotionless… kinda looks like you!"
Lance scowled and opened his mouth in protest, but the man cut him off by laughter.
"I'm just screwing with ya, I know it's you," he laughed and slapped Lance's back. "You think I've never read a newspaper before? I've read at least two!"
Lance sighed. "You're the, er… freelancer I hired? Wesley Marston?"
"Please, uh, Wes is fine," the cowboy said and enthusiastically shook hands with Lance. "Folks don't call me Wesley. Ever."
Lance looked around him and led Wes further away from curious ears. He nodded at his Dragonite, who saluted its owner and instantly jumped up in the air, flying a few feet above Wes and Lance and keeping an eye out for eavesdroppers.
The moment they were out of earshot, Lance started talking to Wes as quickly as he could: "Normally, I wouldn't be seeking help from people like you, but we're in the middle of a crisis here. I understood you've been 'handling' situations related to Cipher and Team Snagem back in Orre?"
Wes smiled proudly. "Yes, sir, I have," he said and gave Lance a mock salute. "If there's a better Pokémon bounty hunter in the world, they're dead."
"Yes, yes, I have no idea what a 'Pokémon bounty hunter' does, but these are desperate times," Lance said hurriedly and looked around him again before continuing. "A research facility near the Sevii Islands was taken over about twelve hours ago. All communications are cut, but the administrator managed to send a brief emergency message directly to the Elite Four before that. According to the message, they have almost fifty hostages there."
Wes folded his arms and tried to look more professional as he responded. "What are their demands?" he asked. "And what kind of lab is it?"
"No demands have been made," Lance said, "and it's an R&D lab for Pokémon medicine. It's pretty valuable, so maybe they're after their products instead."
Wes stared at Lance for a while, but Lance stared right back, without blinking or changing his expression at all. Even then, Wes wasn't satisfied. "How come I haven't heard anything about this? Shouldn't the International Police handle this? There has to be something else here."
"There is," Lance said quietly and turned to look at the ships in the harbor. "According to the message we received… Team Rocket is behind this."
"Team… The Team Rocket?" Wes asked incredulously. "The The Team Rocket? The the the… wait, I lost my track of thought…"
"The same ones who tried to take over Silph's headquarters two and a half years ago, yes," Lance replied.
"Yeah, I remember that," Wes scoffed. "Everyone was counting on you and the Elite Four to save the day. Instead, some teen and a Pikachu came in and drove 'em off. A week later, the same kid kicks your asses in the Pokémon League. Not one of your proudest moments, I reckon?"
Lance didn't seem bothered at all, so Wes moved on to something else that bothered him. "So why're y'all asking me for? Don't you have other people for these situations? Uh, I mean, not that I mind or anything… y'know. Just wondering. Not like I'm taking this job without more information."
"Since you're not from Kanto, you can't possibly understand the situation we had during Team Rocket's uprising," Lance said evenly, still staring at the ships. "It seemed like Giovanni had his nose in everything. You had to watch out what you said, where you went and even what you thought. Fear led to widespread apathy, and that's exactly what Giovanni was aiming for. When Kanto's largest city was invaded, everyone else thought that the situation wasn't their problem. 'At least they're not here anymore', they thought. Even the citizens of Saffron were quietly resigned to the situation, as everyone was waiting for someone else to act."
Wes yawned. "Should I care about any of this?"
"The point is," Lance said, now visibly frustrated, "if people start hearing rumors about Team Rocket's sudden return, there'll be chaos all over Kanto and the Sevii Islands again. They've been keeping a low profile for these last two and a half years, and every time we capture one of their former members, it makes us look good and makes the people trust us. That's why we need to handle this discreetly, and that means hiring someone who can get things done… unconventionally."
"Gotcha, I can be discreet," Wes nodded. "Kill them up good, but do it quietly. Kidding!" he added when Lance was about to protest. "I'll do my best to minimize casualties or whatever. I'm assuming I'm not going alone?"
"I sent a unit divided into two teams to deal with the situation as soon as I got the message," Lance said. "We haven't heard anything from the first team, and the second team is standing by on Floe Island. Join up with them and they'll fill you in on the rest. Commander Marshal from the Unova Elite Four is in charge there, so report to him. My Dragonite will take you there immediately."
Lance's Dragonite landed next to Wes immediately upon hearing its name. It grudgingly knelt so Wes could climb on its back.
"Whoa, hold it!" Wes said quickly as Lance was about to leave. "Before I do anything, what am I getting for this? A hug? A medal and a pat on the shoulder? All the Poffins I can eat? Well, I might consider that first one if you do it, but even then I need some cash to be properly motivated!"
Lance just nodded at his Dragonite who grabbed a large duffel bag it had been hiding under its wing and tossed it to Wes' feet. As Wes opened the bag, his eyes widened at the sight of stacks of money, all piled on top of objects that interested Wes even more than the money."
"Rare ribbons…" Wes muttered as he perused through the bag. "Diamond-crusted Poké Balls… legendary artifacts… gym leader Misty's original shorts, the fanboys will pay a lot for these…"
"All of it, including the money, has been confiscated from various Team Rocket hideouts the IP has uncovered after the gang's fall," Lance explained. "They kept the stuff for 'evidence', but I managed to pull some favors and get a hold of most of them. They're yours…"
Dragonite quickly snatched the bag from Wes.
"…once the job is done," Lance said with finality. "The choice is yours."
Wes contemplated for a while. The mission sounded dangerous… though he probably wouldn't do it if it wasn't. With the money he would get by fencing all those goodies, he could easily retire and move to Hoenn… not that he would. How often does one find a job he enjoys so much? Plus all the money could really help his…
Well, they would really help.
"I'll do it," Wes said. "But how do I know you won't double-cross me? You're the law 'round here, if I come back to try and get those items, y'all can have me arrested!"
"And what would stop y'all from talking about this once you're done?" Lance countered. "You keep quiet about all this, you'll get them. You fail to stay true to your word once you get your reward… we have ways of taking it back. With interest."
"Shake on it," Wes said.
Wes and Lance approached each other very carefully, glaring at each other all the way as they shook hands very quickly. Not wanting to waste more time, Wes climbed on the Dragonite's back. Before the massive dragon spread its wings and rocketed into the night sky, Wes still heard Lance yelling something, but he had to focus entirely on getting a firm grip from Dragonite's neck before the airflow knocked him off the Pokémon's back.
He probably just told me to be careful or something, Wes thought. And I always am! I'll try to wreak as little havoc as possible.
Though that's kinda boring.
~o~O~o~
Navel Rock Research Facility, Sevii Islands, twelve hours ago
Fire…
That was the first thing Sandshrew noticed as he woke up. The second was that he had been knocked out of his cage. As always, the yellow Pokémon found himself in a large, windowless laboratory with Pokémon cages littered all over the place. But the place was usually sterile and quiet, with men in white coats walking around and the Pokémon kept controlled in their cages. The food controlled them somehow, but it hadn't affected Sandshrew nearly as much – he had already resigned to his fate. Some new arrivals resisted loudly at first, but they eventually fell quiet. They always did.
Now there were no humans around and a loud alarm sound blared from the speakers. Sandshrew had only heard it once during a fire drill… but the flames around the lab and the enormous hole in the wall somehow told him that this wasn't one.
Some of the Pokémon weren't quiet anymore either. A few cages close to Sandshrew had opened, and some of the newer arrivals inside were quickly scattering towards the hole in the wall. Others that were still locked up were trashing and wailing in their cages, filling the lab with miscellaneous sounds of terrified, pained Pokémon. The cages in the furthest corner of the room were already ablaze – Sandshrew didn't even want to look there.
Before Sandshrew could move an inch, the alarm sound stopped, replaced by the familiar, terrified voice of a human coming from every speaker in the room:
"This is Professor Krane! All personnel in the lower levels, evacuate immediately! Team Rocket members have stormed the facility! The guards have been… oh, God… just, quick, hurry and save yourselves!"
Team Rocket… Sandshrew had heard the name before. In the first place he remembered after hatching – the laboratory on Cinnabar.
"I was in the administrator's office, managed to send out a warning before they cut me off. I don't know what happened to him… they'll find me soon. If the elevators and trams still work, get out now! Swim if you have to. I've got to-"
The rest of Krane's speech became static-y and hard to hear over the terrified, ever amplifying cries of the Pokémon still trapped in their cages. Those whose cages were broken had run off by now. Sandshrew hesitated a moment – Krane was the only decent human in the facility… but if only there was the possibility of seeing freedom again… for the first time since hatching.
Screw him.
But just as Sandshrew made his way towards the hole in the wall, a weak voice from a nearby cell startled him. It belonged to a Cyndaquil in a cage next to the wall. Sandshrew froze in place when he heard the Cyndaquil's quiet moans. Even through the cries of the Pokémon and the crackles of the fire, Sandshrew could hear it very clearly.
She was asking for help. Just like Sandshrew had done when the Cyndaquil was still staying in the cage next to him. Sandshrew had bitten one of the scientists, and as a punishment, he was kept without food for two days. But even though she had been in the facility longer than him, the Cyndaquil had shared her food with him, keeping him alive. As a punishment, Cyndaquil had been moved further away from Sandshrew, effectively isolating him from the other Pokémon.
Shrew stared at Cyndaquil's cage for a second, then the hole that led to freedom. Then he groaned loudly.
Being good sucks.
A/N: Welcome to His Master's Voice. Don't worry, I'll keep these notes to a minimum in the future. For now, I hope you enjoy this story. I will alternate between Shrew's and Wes' POV (along with some others) in the following chapters, but I'll try to keep the 'screentime' equal.
Warning: This won't be a very graphic fic, considering the rating, and because I plain don't like gratuitous violence, but mild violence and somewhat dark subject matter will still follow. Because of that, my next stories (and my 'Worlds Collide' series) are more lighter in tone.