Disclaimer: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.
-
Grasping the Moon
Chapter 25 – The Earth
Part 1
"This is it?" Will asked angrily, staring at the crates that were laid out across the field outside of Indigo City. Some Team Rocket grunts had pried some boxes open for show, revealing ammunition, rifles and other guns. Other than the occasional handheld rocket launcher, it was all small arms.
"Is dere a problem?" The long white Persian asked, approaching the psychic. Will glared down at the pokémon. They were standing among the crates dumped outside what once was the Main Gate – though after Lance and Sabrina's assault, it was still a spewing open hole, with no chance of repair in the near future. For now the League would have to live with the gaping wound in their defences.
"You promised us cannons, tanks, armour." He flicked out his gloved hand at Team Rocket's pitiful offerings. Stress was already beating at him, and the discomfort of being out in the darkening sky rather than in with the books was getting to the Saffron Gym-Leader. "At best there are three howitzers here."
One of the three Team Rocket executives, the blue-haired fop, also arrived, showing his palms apologetically. "Oh, sorry to say there's no supply for that demand right now." The wimpy man raised a finger and winked. "Never put faith in fickle financial forecasts!" James continued, foolishly believing alliteration would smooth things over.
Will ground his teeth and glared through his glasses. "If the Boss were here, you wouldn't be so coy."
"But what's this? He isn't!" The third said, the red-haired amazon Jesse. She was far more brazen in how she cheated the League, smiling cockily. "Such a shame the twerp couldn't come out and meet us."
The Persian bounded easily on top of a crate, bringing himself eye-level with the Saffron Gym-Leader. "Now where's da money?"
Stiff with rage, Will entered a furious staring match with the mentally weakest of the three merchants. James was far out-classed in this contest of wills.
"Uh, we can offer you a five percent discount for the trouble!" He caved, waving his hands. Jesse immediately kicked his shin as Persian slashed his cheeks.
"Fine." Will grudgingly accepted, aware that desperation left him open to these one-sided deals. He led the greed-drunk criminals to a decrepit van. Summoning a psychic sword, he slashed the lock and opened its back doors with his mind. Taking a duffel bag of money as his discount, he left the robbers with the last of the League's funds.
Levitating the bag of money to a safe location as the Team Rocket trio literally swum in the money in the back of the truck, Will walked back to his less-than-ideal allies. Passing several Rockets lounging in the grass, he came up to Bugsy.
The grime-ball was handling a hunting rifle, flanked by two lieutenants of the Viridian Airborne who towered over him. He discarded the weapon as the acting commander-in-chief came into his presence.
"What about the tanks?" Bugsy asked. Will walked passed and began shuffling through the crate.
"We'll have to make do with this." He answered, throwing an Uzi with a few clips to each of the Airborne pilots. Considering the current level of armament among the League, this was likely an upgrade. Everything was being banked on the next series of battles – tomorrow was fate's day.
"Hey," Bugsy asked in an inappropriate tone when talking to a superior officer. Picking his nose while doing so was not endearing either. "There's something we should..."
Will growled aggressively, causing the androgynous trainer to dislodge his finger in surprise. "What is it?" Fair-Tongue demanded, sick of hearing bad news. "Is there a problem the evacuation?"
"No no no, everything's fine!" The Bugsy insisted with waving hands, his two subordinates exchanging looks at his cowardly behaviour. At this Will calmed down. "I was looking through the battle plan – I figure you could probably magically do that thing with their leaders, but the way it's looking, the Airborne will only be getting the little guys, not them."
Argonaut nodded in confirmation. The Viridian Airborne were the only Gym being directly assigned in defence of their hometown, as this would be the last opportunity to use them at full ability before the tunnels of Victory Road – he'd learnt that much from Surge. "Yes, that's right. The Rebel command element will be dealt with the new Viridian Gym-Leader."
"Oh." Said Bugsy, dazzled. He hadn't heard about a new Gym-Leader for Viridian – in fact he had figured that since being placed in charge of the Airborne Gym that he was the new Gym-Leader. It seemed reasonable that it had been a reward for reporting Lady Ketchum's unfaithfulness. The Bug-Master began feeling a lot less chuffed. "So, ah, how's he going to do it?"
Not having any true desire to continue speaking to the insect he was forced to work with, Will turned away. "If things go to plan," He started, indicating to the distant body of troops they could arm themselves. "They will kill themselves."
-- --
Deliah didn't feel like sleeping, she couldn't even bring herself to change into nightclothes. Mr Mime, likely exhausted from being so tense all day, had fallen asleep, broom in hand, on a seat by the entrance to their tent. Smiling, Mrs Ketchum carefully rounded her pokémon and ducked through the entrance.
Out in the night air, she stretched happily. It was much nicer in the open world – she had been stuck in that nasty old house for so long that being inside even the thin sheets of a tent was comfortable enough to put her on edge.
"Mmm..." The woman purred, the air wonderfully crisp without being cold – the benefits of camping in the Viridian Forest. Brock was nearby, keeping watch by the fire. He hadn't noticed Deliah though, as he was leaning back and peering through the trees to where some woman of the Resistance were bathing, thinking themselves unseen.
Her maternal instincts flared up, but she decided not to lecture the large boy. He was, after all, a healthy young man, and under a great deal of stress. What's more, it would be bad for Brock to be scolded so in front of all his men. Deliah knew more of these matters than the Rock Master realised.
Thinking back to her adventurous past, Mrs Ketchum turned and headed the opposite direction from the stream into the trees. Passing by all the assorted tents that housed the troops, she didn't fear for her safety – after all, if a wild animal or thug accosted her, there were all these strong men here to help her! And it wasn't as if no one knew where she was going – all those men around the fires were giving her such long looks. Coiling her hair, Deliah felt a bit flattered.
Folding grass beneath her shoes, with only the night sounds and cracking fires as music, she explored her new freedom to move. Everyone in the immediate area was staying immobile – the poor dears were probably all tired.
"Mm..." She sighed, looking up to the sky. It was full-moon, but she had avoided windows too long to know what that truly meant yet. Everyone was so down, after the news about Cerulean. "I wonder if I should take Misty with me..." She said to herself. "Let her talk it out some more..."
The thought vanished when Deliah heard the sound of another pressing the grass. Her heart didn't even jump, looking around she was only interested in company to stroll with. Seeing no one, she figured it was a trick of the forest and moved on.
Passing through the outer borders of the camp, the rank and file troops keeping their eyes upon her, Mrs Ketchum kept going, but paused when she heard a twig snap. Looking low this time, her eyes caught hold of something, hiding in the grass. The ambient light was enough to pick out yellow fur.
Viridian Forest was well known for being a natural habitat for Pikachu's, but the sight still caused Deliah discomfort. The way this Pikachu was staring at her was particularly unsettling. She had only seen one Pikachu over the last few years, so perhaps it was natural that they all looked alike to her.
"Haha, oh dear..." Deliah forced out a laugh to steady herself. "You sure surprised me, my little dear..."
The Pikachu watched her a moment longer before jerking his head back in a clear indication for her to follow. Stunned, Deliah watched the rat vanish into the undergrowth. Swallowing difficultly, she glanced back at the fires of the Resistance war camp. It wasn't so much adventure that drove her to pursue as a strange sense of duty.
It had been a long time since Mrs Ketchum had needed to track someone through woods, but the Pikachu had made sure to leave clear tracks for her to trace. The careful pattern of it, in addition to the implied secrecy, really unnerved the woman.
Trees parted into a minor clearing, where Deliah was faced with a strange absurdity. A table with a check cloth over top, set with food and abundant candles. A pair of white, finely made chairs completed the set, like it had been lifted directly from an Italian restaurant into Viridian. Pikachu stood off to the side, high on a tree root. On one of the seats, washed orange by candlelight, was her son.
"Hi, Mum." Ash said miserably.
Deliah was frozen. She grew up in the Old World, she knew how wars worked. Ash had infiltrated this close to the Resistance nerve centre carrying a table and accompanied by at least one pokémon who could destroy the entire uprising in a moment. Ash could solve all his problems right now if he wanted. But he was just sitting there for dinner, pouring himself a glass of wine.
"Sweety?" His mother asked, unable to express her shock and mystification in any more complex terms.
Ash shrugged, pulling off his cap and hanging it on the point of his chair. "Tonight's the night we always have dinner." He explained lazily, and Deliah watched as he downed his entire glass in one go.
Hesitant, but too curious to run, Deliah approached and took a seat. The spaghetti bolognaise and salad was poorly made – Ash must have tried to do it himself. Brushing down a hair, Mrs Ketchum shifted uncomfortably before taking up her fork.
The Champion leant forward. "Do you love me, Mum?" he asked thickly, looking down. Deliah started at such a forward question, looking up at Ash. Seeing his face closer, she could see that the dark rings about his eyes were not tricks of candlelight. He must not have slept.
"Yes." The word freighted up her throat from deep within, and not a fibre, thought or spirit in her body would raise a hand in dispute. Hearing the blunt honesty of her maternal affection relaxed the Great Kanto Trainer's shoulders a little, and he began eating, drinking more wine.
Looking to Pikachu, Mrs Ketchum saw the pokémon's pleading look. He was worried about Ash. Stupidily, selfishly, Deliah too ached over how her son was suffering.
They ate in silence until Ash said, "This is nice." He looked out into the trees and the distant glow of his enemies. Brock. Misty. Gary. "We should eat outside more – it was getting so cramped in the house."
Never in her life had Deliah ever experienced the urge to strike her son, but now she could only hold back her hand by squeezing her cutlery. As the ephemeral desire passed, she took a deep breathe and resumed her meal.
Her eyes couldn't help but drift to the empty seat at her side. Forcing down another mouthful of sub-standard pasta (though loving it all the same – her son had such potential as a chef!), she asked, "Will Misty be joining us, dear?"
It was a very dumb question. She could feel the atmosphere flatten in an instant, popping the facade of calm. Ash's joints fused, grinding to a halt as he was raising his glass to his lips. Deliah closed her eyes and prayed that there wouldn't be an explosion or an argument.
Slowly, movement came back to Ash's members. Emptying his glass down his throat, he sat it on the table and tried to fill it again. The bottle was used up, so he calmly set it down and reached under the table for another. He never bothered to offer his mother a glass, for she disliked drinking.
"Nah." He finally said, re-priming the glass.
Licking her lips, a dreadful possibility came to Deliah. Ash was here undetected, and could kill anyone he wished easily. Anyone who had hurt him deeply, especially if they were unsteadied by grief...
Shooting to her feet as the image of orange hair swimming in red blanketed her mind, Deliah knocked her plate to the ground. Covering her mouth, she stared down on her son in horror. He was very confused at her uproar.
"Oh Ash, you didn't!"
Her tone amply communicated her accusation, and the Chosen One was soon on his feet too, gesticulating defensively. Pikachu, seeing things unravel, bounded forward.
"I didn't! How could I-" Cutting himself off, the Champion grabbed the fresh wine bottle and took a long swig.
Tears were in Mrs Ketchum's eyes. "Oh Ash..." She whispered. The cape on his shoulders, everything about her son she had tried to ignore was becoming apparent. He never looked so much like his father, and yet nothing like him. Lancey would never let himself become so vulnerable.
Leaning weightily against the table, Ash grabbed at his head desperately. Everything he was trying to abandon into the past was crowding into his future. He was losing any sense of vision, of dream. And his own mother thought he was capable of murder – Misty of all people! – thought he was capable of...
Oh god.
Putting the mouth of the bottle to his lips, he kissed the wine until the thoughts seemed to drown. Drown in the sea of red. The sea of blood. Oh god... The bottle lowered.
Faithful Pikachu jumped onto his master's chair, trying to see if he was okay. Deliah watched in fear and concern, and didn't know whether to dote or flee when Ash slowly turned towards her.
He came up to his mother and hugged her. Holding her for a while, he broke the contact again.
"Good night mother." Ash said, knowing that his would not be. This said, he turned to walk away, Pikachu collecting his cap in his mouth and following. Leaving his mother and the Resistance, he was absorbed into the night and the trees.
-- --
Last night's dreams held a revelation; Gary had met Mewtwo once before. Some sort of psychic wall must have been erected to hide the memory – one Mewtwo apparently had deemed time to lift. It was in the Gym of Viridian City, where the armoured prophet of fate had denied the young boy the Earth Badge – a badge that Ash Ketchum had gone on to win.
Ash conquered the earth, Gary mused, looking up into the morning sky. There's probably meaning in that somewhere.
In all his long travels, he had never got around to reclaiming that particular injury to his pride. Perhaps he had spent too much time looking at the stars, but now here he was at the cusp of Viridian City, with a chance to conquer its Gym, that had flown from his grip so many times before. The Earth Badge – the only badge that Ash had won that Gary had failed to collect for himself.
He and the rest of the troops were 'hiding' in the forest along Viridian's southern border, though they were not trying too hard. From here the city looked abandoned – there were no watches, no defensive walls, or even signs of life. There was only one route up to Indigo Plateau, and the League had likely evacuated the citizens of Viridian in expectation of the inevitable battle.
It was hard to say without looking at the people themselves, but Viridian appeared to have not changed during Kanto's degradation. There was relatively modern architecture in its study buildings, and while developed it didn't have the giddy skyscrapers of Saffron, but didn't seem to carry the burden of meaningless existence either. If it weren't for the Lavender-like ghost-town theme going on at the moment, it would look like a normal city.
That's almost surprising, considering everything else I've seen so far. Gary thought to himself, scratching Eevee's head. The dog kicked in joy and Oak smiled – it was a nice morning, and for this little while he could pretend that all the bad things hadn't happened. It was just him, Eevee and glory ahead.
Brock wasn't too far away, and Gary could see him glance backwards every couple of minutes. He had left Mrs Ketchum with Nurse Joy, the only non-combatant he could trust, and that purely because she was a nun. The Cerulean Jenny was back there too, wounded, but who knew if she would want to take an eye for an eye.
Something moved in the grass ahead, and Gary's eyes snapped onto it. There were several shapes, invisible except for their movement, which approached the Resistance leadership. Misty saw it as well, and squinted to see.
"Here comes Tracey." She announced, her throat dry and thin. Brock and Deliah had put all their strength into trying to keep her out of today's battle, but she would not be dissuaded. The woman was eternally stubborn, more so that the seemingly impervious Stone-Baron.
Tracey and some of the Rangers emerged from the grass and ran up to where Brock was standing. The Resistance Leader looked expectant.
"The city's empty." The Watcher reported, pulling back the hood of his borrowed green cloak. "But there are large detachments of the Viridian Airborne to the north-east."
Brock nodded. This was more or less what he was expecting. Turning to the troops around him, he raised a hand for attention.
"Pokémon out!" He announced, pulling off pokéballs from his own belt and releasing his massive Onix, Crobat and Golem. Morty's Gengar extracted himself from the shadows, while Tracey's Scyther, Venonat and Marill soon joined the crowd.
Had anyone been watching, this would have given away the Resistance's position, but it also meant that they would be entering Viridian prepared. Misty closed her eyes and sighed for courage before summoning her Starmie, Azumaril and, surprisingly, Tentacruel. She rubbed the squid's bulbous head affectionately.
Gary watched her distantly. They still had not exchanged words, but this was not time to think of that. Dumping his pokéballs, he let Blastoise, Arcanine, Scizor, Nidoking and Nidoqueen into the world. With the full compliment of his mighty battalion at play, Eevee felt comfortable enough to nestle into Gary's shoulder again, climbing up his master's clothes.
The cacophony of divergent colour began a slow advance over the outer fields of Viridian. Tracey's Venonat and similarly-skilled bug-types scanned the ground thoroughly for landmines. Brock wasn't going to take any chances.
"Ee?" Eevee asked, keeping his eyes on the skies. Gary had to admit that the dog had a point.
"Yeah, you're probably right." He admitted, reassuringly rubbing under the pup's chin. "But is there anyone smart enough left in charge of the Airborne to attack us while we're in the open?"
Nidoking was growing impatient with the snail's pace of the advance. He stamped aggressively, causing Nidoqueen to grab her mate's arm calmingly. Keen to vent anger, the large pokémon gave her a hard look before thundering forward again.
A beefy hand pinned the giant's shoulder. Blastoise gave his fellow a warning look not to grow too bold. Where a lover's pleading had failed, the water turtle's natural authority cowed Nidoking.
Tension winding, the Resistance front-lines eventually reached the streets of the city.
"Spread out." Brock ordered, whispering more from tight fear of the silent shops than necessity. "Flood the streets."
As pokémon and humans poured in to cover as much ground as possible, a buzz shrilled from above Gary's head. Looking up, he saw where Scizor was hovering, monitoring the situation and correlating data with computer logic. Bionic eyes staring impassively into his master's, the cybernetic pokémon pointed forward with a large pincer.
Following his pokémon's indication, Oak saw the sky darkening from the beating wings of a large detachment of flying pokémon. On their backs were the feathered troops of the Viridian Airborne, keen to avenge the loss of its last two Gym-Leaders.
"Brock!" Gary shouted, startling Misty and Morty who were in front of him.
"Go! Go!" Brock ordered, waving through Tracey and the Celadon Jenny. As the greater portion of the Resistance entered the streets, he himself sprinted in. Men began plastering themselves to the buildings, beneath the protective balconies, but Brock kept straight on, the leaders of the insurrection somewhere near him in the crowd.
He knew that they had to spread the troops over a decent area. To that end, he pressed forward, forcing his men to trail. If the Viridian Airborne caught them in packed together, there would be a massacre.
Shadows ghosted him as the first Staraptors and Pidgeots passed overhead.
-- --
Majestic wings beating with strength, war markings over their saddles, the League's airforce was a magnificent sight in the air. Though most of their elite flying aces had been killed weeks ago by Gary Oak, they still provided and formidable adversary for any foe daring enough to cross them. Two defeats, two Gym-Leaders to avenge, each man had look of fatalistic desire – nobody expected them to stop the Rebels here, but if they could avail themselves well, they might clean their soiled reputation.
Contrasting against the fearful sight of these men and pokémon riding the wind was their 'leader', Bugsy. The greasy little man was poised atop his diminutive Ledian, comical among the nobility of the Pidgeottos and Staraptors. No one dared disrespect him though, for there were Ledians whisked through the war band like plague, such that everywhere you looked, Bugsy seemed to be there.
"Heh." He chuckled singularly. Fingering his nozzle in his hands, a sick smile crossed his discomforting features. Strapped to his back was a large tank, strung up to a weapon-nozzle that he held like a pest-terminator. It was filled with poison gas, the sort that caused men's lungs to melt out their mouths.
Down below the Airborne could see the Rebels in the streets, a rainbow of colours dotting their streets. This was Viridian, their home, and the thought of traitors filling it, crawling through its holes in hiding as the Rebels did was more disgusting to their guts than the queer antics of their superior. It was not Bugsy's home, however, and he turned his smiling face.
Looking around his squadron, black bowl-cut flickering in the wind, the Bug Master nodded to the lieutenants. "Alright, we're going in." He attached an ancient gas-mask to his face, peering out its insectoid-goggles. His mouth was muffled through the oversized breathing apparatus. "Remember, no one goes under ten feet, or you end up six feet under."
The order for attack out, Bugsy pulled his Ledian's ear, bringing the insect down in a strafe, his bug collection following behind. As he pointed his gas nozzle, the rest of the Airborne swooped after him with courageous abandon, as though throwing down their lives for Viridian.
-- --
Death was in the air – and it wasn't just Fearows strafing stars of energy swiftly over the Celadon Rangers. Gary could see blue clouds being spewed down into the streets, and judging by the choking men in their midst, it looked like some sort of gas. Great, bio-chemical weapons. He thought sarcastically, noticing a Pidgeot and his grim-faced rider targeting him.
Crouching back behind Nidoking as their swooped over, the bird pecked viciously at Nidoking's hard head. The blow was ineffective against the earthy titan, who lashed out, trying to tear the bird from the sky. His claws clipped the Pidgeot's wing, but the rider skilfully kept the pokémon airborne. As they passed, Gary turned and took the man's arm off with his AK-47.
"Ee!" Eevee whinged from underneath Nidoking's thick tail.
"I know, I know!" Gary cried out. Looking out again around Nidoking's scales, he saw that some Ranger who was worth a damn had ordered his Gloom to spin his vines like a fan against the advancing blue cloud. Oak's own Arcanine had taken up position nearby, the fiery dog apparently planning to – if all else failed – burn up the gas and all inside it.
Satisfied that he wouldn't die choking for now, Gary coiled around and took a breath and patted his Nidoking's back. As much as he and Nidoqueen could take hits, Eevee was right – if he stayed out here in the middle of the street using them as cover, things would get sour fast.
The crowd of Resistance men here was still thick, vulnerable but still warding off the birds with heavy fire. Smart troops knew the best cover was under the overhangs around the sides of the large buildings, and maybe the statues in the parks and courtyards.
"Let's move on." Gary said, standing. Eevee followed as he ran down the street, the rest of his pokémon preferring to take their time and enjoy the turkey-shoot. He dodged around Blastoise as he watered the sky, and pushed to advance the lines.
Passing many men as they hid, firing desperately at the vultures above, some of the Rangers – God help them – still using their bows, Gary picked out some familiar faces. Skidding to a stop and hitting at post-box, Gary ducked and yelled to them.
"Hey!" he cried. Recognising his voice, Brock, Misty and Snap looked down. "We have to advance!" He pretended to be addressing Brock.
Flinching as some of Leaguers blazed with their machineguns, the Stone-Baron raised his dark head. "I'm all for it!"
Breaking cover, the Resistance Leader sprinted through his men, quickly coming to the front line. The others were close, though Misty kept her eyes squarely forward. Gary tracked her orange hair until the group burst forth into relatively open streets.
They kept ahead, letting the rank and file fill up the gaps behind them.
"Ahead!" Brock shouted back. Gary looked up, seeing a large body of wings incoming, mixed in with some... bugs. At the helm, riding a spotted Ledian, was a man in a mask, blue clouds spilling around him.
Diving into a side street with the others to avoid the onslaught, Gary wove deeper into the city. Snap held back to take some shots and make some money. Glancing over his shoulder to watch how the sniper fared, Gary was surprised to see the sniper was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, where'd Snap..."
Looking forward, Oak's heart shivered seeing that both Misty's mesmerising orange hair and fine if scrawny rump had similarly disappeared. Indeed, while his rear-end and spiky cut weren't nearly so interesting, Brock was also gone.
Mute from shock, Gary looked around and suddenly realised that the sound of battle – the gunfire, screams and flap of wings – was far away, at the other end of the city. A tail brushed over his black shoes, and Gary's eyes fell, glad to land on Eevee's furry form. The pup was also staring around the empty streets.
With nothing else to say, Gary could only finish his sentence. "...go?"
-- --