#247
In the gloom beneath the Celadon streets, lurking amidst the maze of sewer tunnels, electrical lines and building foundations, half of which were unused and forgotten, there was a certain space.
This space, a "room" only by generous interpretation, could be accessed through a series of ladders that, by various winding ways, led to the surface at different points. They all funneled to a single hall that fed entrants via a lone, decrepit-looking doorway into the space. On the other side of the space, directly opposite the feed-in doorway, another door was set into the wall. The door was metallic in appearance, clean and crisp in comparison to its surroundings, with a series of lighted keys next to it and a very large, stylized "R" painted across the surface in red.
This was the second secret entrance to the Celadon Rocket Headquarters, R-3, and between the two doors within the space leading from the ladder network to the base stood a solitary warden.
Less "standing" than "lounging".
Of average height and nondescript appearance, the man slouched back against the wall next to the R-3 entrance, features illuminated only by the glow of the keypad near him, gaze seemingly locked on a point near his feet, hands in the pockets of his standard-issue black pants, a standard-issue "Rocket R"-emblazoned hat pushed farther back on his head than was normally allowed. His jacket, also marked proudly with the symbol of the underworld organization, was open, allowing ease of access to his belt and the small spheres locked thereon. One booted foot was planted firmly on the ground, while the other was tilted against the wall, the position leaving his knee bent.
His head lifted, gaze unfocused, as a distant rumble was heard. One hand shifted slightly in his pocket, then withdrew, bearing with it a small object that unfolded into a set of goggles. Bringing out his other hand, which opened from a fist to reveal a small strap within it, he snapped the strap to the goggles and, removing his hat, drew the eyewear on and settled it firmly over his eyes before replacing his hat and straightening it into the standard uniform position.
"Zeta Gamma Theta."
Within his goggles, the view was initially of darkness no longer illuminated even by the dim glow of the keypad; then, with a series of slowly-brightening light flickers, he saw the room around him more clearly, the sludge sliding down the wall to his left from ceiling to floor, the small group of bats roosting near a hole above the door across from him, a rat foraging through some garbage to his right. He saw the bricks of the ground beneath, broken and battered and never repaired, and he saw a small creature appear in his right eye's field of vision.
The creature, comprised of a series of geometric shapes that spun around and seemed to hold little to no relative position compared to the rest of the body, hummed and lettered code appeared in front of the man's vision.
"Initiate a scan of above-ground entrances, beginning at 2SE-4 and working outward from this relative position."
A warble preceded the creature's disappearance from his view, then another warble, almost back-to-back with the first, was followed by its reappearance. More code flowed across the goggles' screen and a corner of the man's mouth twitched ever so slightly before he brought one hand up and touched a nearly-invisible earpiece, the other hand fishing out a pair of gloves from a pocket.
"R-3 Central, this is 2SE Post, stop."
A smooth voice returned almost immediately, "Post, this is Central. How's it hanging, 247? Stop."
"Porygon unit identifies seven police groups," the guard said grimly, "closing around 2SE 1 through 5. They've destroyed the observation units and the undercover guards are in custody." He pulled on his gloves, then zipped up his jacket. "Preparing to engage in combat, stop."
"Roger that," returned the voice, still smooth and unruffled, "will send backup..." There was a pause and the sound, albeit dim, of an explosion could be heard in the room, then, "Backup may be delayed, stop."
"Roger that, Central." The man's mouth twitched again, this time almost in a smile. "Holding my position until forcibly removed, stop."
"Thanks, 247. Central out."
247 tapped his earpiece, then spoke quietly into the room. "Team, prep for battle." As subtle noises echoed faintly between the walls, he brought one arm up and, pulling the sleeve back, flipped a small covered arm-mounted computer open. Tapping a series of keys and getting a single blink in response, he returned his attention to his goggles. "Zeta Gamma Theta."
The porygon reappeared in his field of vision and a single line of code crossed his screen.
"We're being transmatter jammed, force a connection to the servers open and retrieve the rest of the teams marked for 247."
A single line of code, then the porygon vanished and 247 focused his attention back to the door across from him as distant sounds began filtering in: booted feet hitting the ground, claws clicking against the bricks, splashes of murky water being sloshed through. It was still some distance off; shifting, he reached one hand over and tapped a code into the keypad. There was a hissing sound, then the doorway across from him had a metal door slam down from a concealed position; shouts and screams could be heard briefly, then were cut off as the entrance was shut. The traps were working, at least.
Putting his hands back in his pockets, 247 leaned back against the wall and returned to brooding on whatever he'd been thinking about earlier, ignoring the distant sounds, ignoring the foul smells in the room. Long years of experience along with natural inclination kept him calm and relaxed even in the face of what was most likely violent combat with implacable foes followed by incarceration or worse; he would do his best to avert that fate and would accept it if he couldn't. That was all.
Team Rocket expected nothing else from its grunts.
"All posts, this is Central." The smooth voice was unruffled despite the clear sounds of sirens in the background of the transmission. "Security is compromised, hold positions and wait for further orders."
Subvocalising a command, 247 received an update code stream across his goggle screen and the corner of his mouth twitched downward briefly. There was a thunderous boom from the door across from him and he raised his gaze just as an explosion ripped the metal open and sent a massive chunk of shrapnel shrieking through the air and into the wall next to him. Slowly raising his gaze, his relaxed lounge still in full force, he waited for his goggles to adjust as floodlights poured into the room, held by blue-uniformed police officers who were preceded by small orange, black and white dogs that barked savagely at the waiting Rocket.
"On your knees! Hands behind your head! Don't resist or you'll get hurt!"
At their shouted commands, a twitch that might have been a smile was killed at birth, then the grunt opened his mouth.
"Terminate."
There was a shout, screams, then nothing more from the side of the room closest to the sludge-drenched wall to the guard's left; the officers and dogs nearest to it had vanished. Floodlights turned toward the spot they'd been and saw only sizzling, mostly-cauterized and melted remains that, along with the sharp odor of melted flesh and bone, caused one or two of the policemen, less experienced than the others, to vomit. Before the group could recover, there was the sound of snapping and crackling from the opposite side of the room accompanied by a series of arcing bolts of electricity that coursed through several more of the invaders; as they reeled from the sudden attacks and bodies, with black char marks where the lightning had entered and exited them, fell to the ground, the remaining dogs began howling and covering their ears.
"Retreat! Retreat! He's a high-level trainer! Call for backup!"
The words were barely out of their speaker's mouth when a flurry of wings heralded a descent by the bats living above the door, their eyeless faces and gaping maws horrific in the dim, flashing interior of the room as they latched onto various policemen and dogs and began draining their blood. Screams, shouts, continued howling and yipping, all blended with a slowly-intensifying, piercing sound that caused the dogs further torment, preventing them from fighting back in their agony. Above the smaller bats, a set of three massive maws gaped open and, dropping like hawks, the golbats clamped down on a dog each, bearing it up into the air beyond the light of the floods. There were pitiful yipes and then crunches, then liquid fell from the sky, as did small pieces of fur and limbs.
The policemen frantically shoved their way toward the door, then something struck them from behind and hurtled them to the ground; as they desperately scrambled to flee, the "something" grabbed them and dragged them back into the room. Those who turned to see glimpsed a faint azure glow that was visible, albeit dimly, through the goggles on the face of the Rocket, still standing relaxedly near the door he was guarding. He gazed impassively at them.
"You come invading this place I defend, demanding submission to your will, and dare to enter unprepared to face the consequences?"
Terrified screams, scrambling figures leaping for the door. The Rocket raised his hand and gestured. The door they'd entered through twisted like a cloth on the ground and, with a shriek of metal, closed.
"Surrender or die, invaders."
The voice was cold, the threat in the words was like steel pressed to their hearts. The policemen and their remaining dogs, the latter trying desperately to stand despite trembling limbs, shuffled back in terror. To their right was a slowly-bubbling mass of horrific-smelling sludge, to their left was a small brown rat that was alternately sparking with electricity and coughing flame, its massive incisors crushing through bone whenever someone got too close, and the horrible sounds of the bats' meal came from above, while standing before them was a monster in the form of a man who had cut off their escape from what was supposed to be a sure victory-turned-total-defeat without ever shifting from his comfortable position.
A brief, terrifying, eternal moment passed, then the grunt's gaze seemed to shift from them to something above them; turning to see, the policemen gasped as the twisted metal behind them slowly began glowing, then melted. Stepping through the white-hot portal created by the slagged metal, a smirking, brown-haired teenager looked around at the mess in the room and shook his head as a set of claws gripped the still-hot metal.
"What a buncha scrubs, right, Blazer?"
The red-scaled lizard, its tail tipped with flame and embers seeming to reside in its eyes, stepped through and snorted, a tongue of flame emerging with the sound. Looking up, its gaze narrowed and it snarled savagely, loosing a long-lasting tongue of flame that licked at the bats. The flying creatures shrieked and vanished back into the darkness, even the golbats disappearing along with the ringing, piercing sound as bits and pieces of their meals, abandoned in their flight, fell to the ground with sickening thuds and splats. The lizard clamped its jaws shut and looked back down, alternating its gaze from the grunt standing languidly against the wall and the rat chittering to the left. Growling, the lizard began to step toward the rat, but was stopped by its trainer's arm placed before it.
"Hold up, Blazer." A smirk, whose effect was heightened by the calm wariness of the eyes above it, crossed the seasoned-beyond-his-years face. "That's not the biggest danger here."
The grunt smirked as the new trainer pointed at the sludge wall.
"Flamethrower on the wall!"
The charmeleon, in a sign of implicit trust in its trainer, snapped its head to the side and, opening its jaws, released a stream of flames on the wall whose heat could be felt by all around it. The sludge bubbled and sizzled, then, shockingly, shifted, and a massive mouth gaped open, swallowing the flames as they came into contact with it. Flash closed its mouth at a command from his trainer, then the mouth drifted to the ground, where it closed for a moment before the sludge in the area drew together into a massive, bubbling monstrosity that, through the bubbling and sizzling and horrible smell of ancient, rotting organic material and rot, seemed mildly annoyed.
A slow chuckle came from the grunt and the policeman and trainer turned to look at him as he straightened away from the wall, a glow appearing behind his goggles again.
"Terminate."
A burst of energy detonated with him as the center, slamming into the invaders and slamming them against the wall and through the melted doorway; one man shriekd as a twisted piece of metal cut him open before he flew back down the hall they'd come through. The brown-haired teen stayed on his feet amid the psionic maelstrom, albeit with difficulty, and drew a small red-and-white sphere from his belt as his other arm shielded his face from the flying debris kicked up.
"Eggser, resist."
The ball burst with light and a series of small eggs exploded outward, spinning and spiraling, expanding a circle drawn by their paths before contracting it again and sending a surge of energy out from their center that collided with and forced back the grunt's attack, the two forces quivering almost visibly between the two and causing the atmosphere around their point of contention to ripple with energy.
A burst of flame from the side was narrowly repelled by Flash, the brown-furred rat closing its mouth and chittering in annoyance that it had missed the eggs before starting a firefight with the lizard that superheated the air, leaving the scents of overheated air and charred rot in their wake, and barely missed the policemen as they scrambled out of the way. From the other side, the disgusting mass of sludge began oozing toward the group and the brown-haired teen pursed his lips thoughtfully, then pulled another pokéball from his belt.
"Kaiser, drill it."
A humanoid creature that appeared to be a bipedal, brown-and-tan mixture of fox and lizard wielding a single spoon burst out and, with a three-point-landing, raised its spoon and launched a multicolored beam out that cored the sludge monster and splattered pieces of it out in all directions. A rumbling, gurgling, muffled roar came from the muk, accompanied by horrible smells that seemed to mix ancient rotten eggs with long-sludged fecal matter, then the grunt's voice cut through the din.
"Terminate."
Two shadows slammed down from above, one hitting the kadabra and one smashing into one of the eggs. The two pokémon reeled and their attention faltered from their current targets, allowing the latter to press forward, the muk closing in on the kadabra and the grunt sending several tendrils of energy out to try and flank the eggsecute's coverage. The brown-haired trainer stepped back and drew another pokéball.
"You're way better than the others I've met, are you an administrator or somethin'?" Without waiting for a reply, he tossed the pokéball into the air. "Kaiser, give us some light! Skylar, take down whatever's above us!"
The fox-lizard raised its arms, one hand firing another beam of kaleidoscope color and the other hand, holding the spoon above its head, flexed slightly. The spoon shook, then flared into a brilliantly-shining light that illuminated the entire room; 247's goggles adjusted for the brightness almost instantly, but he still felt a little pain from the glare. Above the policemen, a massive, four-winged bat was momentarily visible, then it screeched, blurred, and vanished just as a brown-feathered raptor slashed through where the bat had been. Emitting a piercing cry of frustration, the bird whipped around the upper confines of the room looking for its prey and the Rocket almost-but-not-quite smirked.
"What," the brown-haired trainer called out, "you think you're winning?"
"Eh," came the response, then the grunt tilted his head slightly as if listening to something. Nodding, he whistled shrilly and, bringing both hands up, smashed an incredible level of psionic energy into the group in front of him.
As the two psychic pokémon attempted to resist the sudden onslaught and the brown-haired trainer had to hastily retract his pidgeotto, the sludge monster and rat darted toward the grunt before vanishing into a pair of brilliant lights that faded into black-and-white spheres with the letter "R" printed on them. A shriek heralded the reappearance of the crobat, who also vanished, then the grunt stepped forward, twisted his wrists and sent an incredible level of energy into the whole room that caused the walls to buckle and the ceiling to collapse, separating the invaders from the door they'd been attempting to breach before they could do more than scuttle backwards. As the path forward was blocked, the teen trainer hissed in vexation.
"We had him!" Turning his gaze to eye the terrified policemen, he snorted and then, as the rest of his team but the charmeleon vanished into their spheres, he stalked off with a muttered, "useless."
"Don't be so hard on them, Blue."
Slanting his eyes sideways, the brown-haired trainer didn't slow as he passed the long-haired girl, kneeling beside what appeared to be a freshly-bandaged policeman, looking past him at the shaken and shaking policemen.
"If you'd been there, Green, you'd have the right to tell me what to think about idiots who charged in without planning, ability or the stomach for the fight. Since you weren't, shut up."
"247 shouldn't have been there," came the response as the girl turned to look at him, her eyes freezing him mid-step with their surety as she rose and, with incredible grace, walked through the battered, groaning wounded who'd been injured by the traps to Blue's side. "He's a grunt with the skill, team and technique of an admin, on top of a highly-developed psychic talent." Gesturing at the destroyed room, her expression thoughtful and a little worried, she turned to face Blue. "This doesn't make sense."
Narrowing his eyes, Blue turned his head again and gazed at the room he'd left. "That means something's probably wrong." Blinking as a thought struck him, he slanted his eyes to look at her. "Wait, if you're here, is the imbecile here, too?"
"Don't call him that, and yes, Red's here."
"That's it, then." Blue nodded with almost absolute surety. "That psycho is going after him."
Concern flashed through Green's expression. "Then we need to warn him. C'mon, let's go somewhere our 'gears can reach him."
They turned and hurried toward the nearest ladder upward as the policemen left behind tried to reassemble their shattered force into something resembling a cohesive unit again.
On the other side of the collapse, the door closed shut behind 247 as he ambled into the base's interior, pausing only long enough to trigger the collapse of the hall behind him, sealing the secret entrance as permanently as the original engineers had been able to arrange. As he walked, he listened to the chatter coming in over the command net.
"Central, 1E has full breach in process. Requesting backup, stop."
"1E, this is Central. Hold position. Out."
"Central, this is 1SE Post. Requesting backup, stop."
"1SE, this is Central. Hold position. Out."
"All units, this is Central. All entrances are to trigger defense and sealing mechanisms and move toward the nearest X center. All units not on Entrance duty are to assemble at their designated points and follow orders. Central out."
247 keyed his earpiece. "R-3 Central, this is 2SE Post, stop."
"2SE Post, this is Central, stop." The voice sounded as smooth and unruffled as ever, but 247 heard cursing in the background and smirked to himself before smoothing his expression and speaking.
"Have triggered D-and-S mechanisms. Am en route to X-4. Any orders? Stop."
"Roger, 247, you are to move to point designate R1B4 and perform sweep before moving to X-3, stop."
"Central, 247. On the move, stop."
"Thank you, 247. Central Out."
Almost before his conversation ended, 247's earpiece began buzzing with the grunt private channel. Turning at a hallway and striding with purpose down it, he keyed the piece. "247."
"Wooo-weee, 247," came the snarky voice of 215, "you take off runnin' the instant the bad guys caught up with ya? You already triggered, you crazy sonuvajynx."
"215, 247. Roger that, took off running when I saw them. They had me shaking in my boots." 247's voice was so incredibly dry that it made it plain whether what he was saying had validity or not. Chuckles could be heard.
"215, 247, this is 109. Can the chatter and get back to your duties."
"Yes, ma'am," came the sarcastic response from 215. "Would you like-"
"109, this is 247, stop."
There was a pause, then the female voice returned, slightly defensive. "247, this is 109, stop."
"109, this is 247. As per Central's command, I'm en route to point designate R14B to perform a sweep, after which I will be moving to X-3, stop."
A longer pause then before, then 109 responded tiredly. "247, this is 109. Roger that, why are you telling me what was told over command net, stop."
"109, this is 247. Are you not in my chain of command, stop."
"247, 109. Negative and you know that, stop."
"109, this is 247." He paused for a moment, then, "I'm on the same page as you now, 109. 247 out."
Turning his earpiece down to avoid listening to the inevitable catcalls and hoots that would come from his remarks, he continued walking past various closed metal doors as a running commentary on how awesome 247 was came on. Keying a private channel, he paged 109, who was a moment in responding.
"What is it now, 247?" Her voice was tired and stressed.
"109, this is 247. 215 will snub you and undercut your authority without end if you let him, and you don't yet have the authority to tell him not to." Keeping his voice calm and matter-of-fact, he continued, "Wait until you're either G-5 and directly over him, or until you reach Administrator or Executive rank, he'll listen then, stop."
There was a moment, then, "247, this is 109. I appreciate the advice, I don't appreciate your earlier attitude, stop."
"109, this is 247. I'll buy you an apology drink later if we get out of here intact, stop."
"247, this is 109. Stop hitting on me or I'll hit you, stop."
"109, 247, A-OK, it's a date, out."
Killing the channel as he turned the corner before the elevator, he was just in time to see the doors opening to reveal an elevator car full of policemen, growlithes and a single, black-haired, red-hatted teen standing with his finger near the control button.