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[10:33 PM. Kanto Naval Vessel Full Steam en route to Deep Sea Research Facility 02, Joenn Sea, 73 miles off the coast of Johto]
If there was anything Lorelei did not mind, it was the cold. As the fierce winter winds of the Joenn Sea lashed rain and sleet onto the deck of the Full Steam, she merely tightened her coat against the wrinkles of her face and neck. Around her, deckhands and their stalwart Pokemon shouted through the storm. Before her, the faint silhouette of the facility could be seen through the storm. Age had not slowed her down; years spent as a member of the Elite Four of Indigo Plateau had hardened her to many of life's surmountable difficulties. Nearing seventy years of age, she still wielded much of her cool grace as she did in her youth.
A man stepped sheepishly to her left. He shook continuously even through his many layers. She did not acknowledge him at first, choosing instead to concentrate intensely on the materializing shape on the horizon. The man sneezed.
"How soon till we dock?" she asked the man. He soft voice cut through the howl of the wind like porcelain through glass.
"Not soon enough," he said through several emphatic sniffles. Lorelei did not respond. "I'm fine, by the way. In case you were wondering."
Lorelei adjusted her glasses, centering herself. The storm was larger than predicted, but nothing the captain couldn't reasonably handle. She had worked with him before. He was a good man—a man you could trust. Not many of those around anymore, she mused.
"Don't worry, I wasn't," she replied. "I thought I told you to dress in layers?"
"I did."
Lorelei could only chuckle. The man beside her was one Reginald Matthias, a younger man in his early twenties. Reginald had been Lorelei's ward for almost a year now, having acted as a mentor through the final stage of his training at the Ranger Academy in Blackthorn City. This mission would be Reginald's final mission with Lorelei; upon completion, he would be a bona fide Ranger, answering directly to Indigo Plateau. She rather liked the man. Reginald was built, yet lean, and his Hariyama was always dependable in a pinch. She could say with confidence that Reginald was ready.
"Has the facility attempted communications?" She asked. A flock of Pellipper with their Wingull in town flew desperately towards shelter. "No," he replied. The captain tried not too long ago. It's quiet as a tomb."
Let's hope you're analogy proves false, Reginald. "Have him try again."
Reginald nodded low. "With all due respect, Mistress Lorelei, the captain has tried multiple times, all with the same result. Either no one's home or no one's picking up. However, with this storm—."
"Irrelevant," she cut in. "All deep sea facilities are equipped with instruments capable of sending and receiving in conditions much worse than this. No, something's wrong."
"Excuse me?" Reginald asked politely. He paused, readjusted his coats. "This isn't a normal code check and tongue lashing/knuckle rapping routine, is it?"
Lorelei grit her teeth and for the first time in years began to feel cold. "Two days ago, we received a report that this facility had seen unmarked fishing boats crowding the area."
"Two days?"
"Indigo did not place much weight in the report. It took two days for them to process the damn thing."
"So what's the plan?"
Lorelei strained against the wind to focus the facility in her view. No lights, no visible machinery movement, no communications. "The plan is to follow my lead." Reginald barely had any time to react as Lorelei leapt from the railing of the ship, casting a pokeball as she dove. In a brilliant flash of light, a mighty Lapras crashed into the whirling sea. Landing gracefully on the grey shell of its back, Lorelei beckoned to Reginald. "I said follow my lead!"
Reginald cursed under his breath and Lorelei watched him flail over the edge onto Lapras's back. "We're going in ourselves." She pat the Lapras on her neck and bid her speed. In a second, the pokemon sped through the waves. Lorelei barely made out the confused shouts of the men on the ship as they raced towards the facility. She turned her neck to check on Reginald who was fiercely gripping a protrusion on the shell. "Just a little farther," she cried. Reginald managed a thumbs-up.
Lorelei and her Lapras had weathered rougher seas than thus, yet Lorelei could not help but feel every wave break against Lapras, every shard of ice that reddened her old skin. Something was wrong. Lorelei had dealt with things like this before: missions gone awry, a trainer with a god-complex, a crime lord, but nothing had ever set her on edge quite like the feeling of dread she felt as she approached the facility. She shook her head, determined not to let any of this get to her head. Failure was not an option. Failure would mean she was slowing down, and she could not afford anyone at the Plateau thinking she was slowing down. But in truth, Lorelei felt old. She could feel the years of stress in every joint and wrinkle. She could feel her body protesting at the years of activity she had put it through, past an age where anyone would consider her time served. She could feel it, and she was cold.
Stay strong. Don't crumble right now. It's probably nothing. Can't let the boy see it get to you. It's nothing. It's nothing.
But it was something, and she knew it.
No one was patrolling when the two rangers scaled the face of the facility. Lorelei returned her Lapras to her ball. "No one's home," Reginald said. Lorelei straightened her coat, a deep maroon. She was soaking, and she could feel the ice water pervading her clothes. Reginald was taking on a slight blue tint as well. "Should we knock?" He asked, half in jest. Lorelei knew that, like herself, Reginald worked better with a plan. This was not part of the plan.
There was a door not far from where they landed. It was unlocked. Lorelei heard the sigh of relief from Reginald. "Not bad. Busting open would've been a lot louder."
"Everything's louder with you, Reginald."
Reginald shook himself like a dog and regained his composure, his attitude shifting from one of carelessness to one of determination. "Just a bit of good fortune, is all, Mistress."
Good fortune, she thought, or a trap that we're all too willing to walk into?
The facility was exactly like a tomb. There were no lights, and when Reginald shut the door behind them, the thick steel walls muffled all noise of the storm. The darkness was absolute; no dim emergency lights, no minute multicolored bips of machinery. Reginald reached at his belt and released his Flareon whose hot body gave off a faint orange glow. "What are we looking for?" He whispered. Even in the silence, the whisper echoed throughout the facility.
"I don't know," she responded.
"What is this place even for?"
Lorelei willed her eyes to adapt to the inky darkness. "File said something about the migratory patterns of Wailren."
"Exciting," Reginald said.
"To each his own. We can talk about Wailren and their habits in detail once we've left this place."
Reginald knew better than to respond. Lorelei had shifted into a persona not often seen, even during her time as a member of the Elite Four, she was never this focuses, never as guided as she was on a mission. Reginald was one of the few with that privilege.
They set to checking the various rooms, and every room turned out the same: abandoned, it appeared, hastily, but without signs of a struggle. As if everyone had simply decided at once to leave. "I don't like this," Reginald said after the sixth consecutive office. "You feel it too?" Lorelei asked. Reginald stopped to warm himself next to his Flareon. "Huh? Feel what?" Lorelei said nothing and walked out of the office.
They came to the cafeteria after several more rooms turned up the same results. By now, the Full Steam should be circling the facility. Makes getting out of here if anything goes south a bit easier, Lorelei thought. Reginald had his ear to the door. "I hear something. Shuffling. It's slow. Definitely not someone walking.
"A pokemon?" Lorelei asked.
"If it is, it's very small," he replied. "Damn, the door's locked."
Lorelei nodded at Reginald, who nodded in turn. He motioned to his Flareon which began to slowly and precisely let out a stream of fire that began to melt the lock. The small sound of the lock failing resonated throughout the halls. Reginald inched the door open. "Mistress, I think I found the staff."
Lorelei cautiously stepped across the threshold. Inside, all uniformly bound and gagged, Lorelei made out in the dim light at least three dozen or so people, dressed in lab coats and warm sweaters.
"What is going on..." Lorelei mouthed. Reginald rushed to the nearest captive, a young man. He undid the gag and binds. The other staff members looked on in a panic, as if fearing they would not be freed. The young man was shaking. Reginald did his best to comfort him. "What's your name?" he asked. "What's going on here?"
"My brother, tell my brother…" The man seemed inconsolable. Reginald inspected the man. Dark burns mapped his body.
Reginald turned to Lorelei. "Two days ago, you said?"
No…these people…No, no. They can't have been like this for two days. Surely Indigo would have at least checked back after they received the report. Oh, god. No…two days.
Someone from behind the two rangers began clapping. "This was supposed to be their grave, but I suppose you can share it as well."
Lorelei flashed around, her hand already at her belt. As the man stepped into the light of Reginald's Flareon, she flinched—for the briefest moment, she hesitated.
"You…"
Suddenly, she and Reginald were flung back. Lorelei struck her head on the corner of a metal table. Beside her, Reginald had collapsed. Before she lost consciousness, she saw power restored to a single monitor.
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