A sprout in the grass
"Hup… hup… hup…"
Olimar had come to recognize the distinctive sound of pikmin at work. The group of twenty yellow pikmin plodded on tirelessly, dragging the cockpit canopy to the Dolphin through the gently swaying grass. Discerning their struggle, Olimar ordered a few nearby reds to desist from their demolition and aid in the transport. With the cockpit canopy moving steadily towards the ship and the other red pikmin nearly finished braking down the twig wall, Olimar took a moment to relax and look around.
It's a beautiful planet. Too bad the atmosphere is filled with oxygen, he thought. Thankfully I've got three weeks left…. Olimar was satisfied with his progress: twelve (soon to be thirteen) parts in nine days. All the same, he had no desire to slow down, and he had recently lost a huge number of the helpful little creatures to a badly planned bulborb attack near water. Though the others seemed not to notice, and, frankly, the plant-ish animal-ish things seemed rather brainless as a whole, he still felt guilty. Circumstance gave him authority over the creatures and hope… and a responsibility for their safety, he felt.
The crash of the wall coming down broke Olimar's chain of thought. The red pikmin bounced up and down happily at the sight of the rubble as Olimar stepped by to peer into the enclosure.
Oh great.
The area in front of him was wide and bowl shaped, with four sleeping Spotty Bulborbs in the distance. There was a little bit of grass in the middle but, clearly, no parts belonging to his spaceship.
Well, now I know.
Olimar was about to turn around until an oddly shaped piece of grass with a leaf on the end caught his eye. Deciding he would be safe as long as the dozen pikmin remained behind (as they had a habit of picking fights they had no hope of winning), Olimar tip toed forward. As he suspected, it was a sprout. He'd only seen sprouts underneath the onions so far – what could one be doing out here? It certainly wasn't one of his. The bulbears' snore was starting to push him back towards the entrance, but his recently diminished forces made his feet feel heavy.
What's the worse that could happen?
Olimar closed his eyes and yanked the sprout as quietly as he could. Up popped a pikmin he'd never seen before. The thing staring at him seemed mildly disturbed, but quickly relaxed. Olimar wasn't sure how he could discern this solely by the little thing's eyes, but he was pleased at his latest discovery. Its non-descript skin seemed to be a dark hue of brown or green – good for camouflage, no doubt. Olimar imagined it would be all the better concealed in the dwindling daylight.
Uh oh. I've got to move.
Running straight back for the entrance and calling the red pikmin to his side, Olimar started heading for his ship. As soon as he reached the Dolphin, he turned around to count his troops.
Twelve red, twenty yellow, one… miscellaneous.
What it lacked in color, it claimed in… something else. Olimar wasn't sure what, but there was something different about this one. It seemed a little more intelligent… no, it wasn't just that - it seemed a little more… "aware" than the others. A standout, to be sure.
I'll think of a name for you tomorrow.
Olimar blew the whistle, sending the Pikmin off to their respective onions. The new one headed for the red onion as though nothing out of the ordinary were taking place. Olimar went back into the Dolphin, both curious and afraid of what the next day would bring.