As we approached the clearing where Team Plasma had set up shop, I ran through several possible avenues of attack in my head. I didn't have a strong special attacker on my team, so we couldn't just run in and burn the whole place down from a distance. We'd have to either rely on pure muscle or get crafty with it… dammit, but I needed more information.

How many grunts did Shane have under his tenuous command? And what were their positions, and how alert were they? Had the Herdier already alerted them all to our approach? Mitzi hadn't returned yet…

"Damn. Hilda, thoughts?" I said, and my breath clouded in the frigid air. I don't think I was just imagining it; the temperature was dropping the closer we got to the clearing.

Hilda growled… she had no answers. She was waiting on me to make the call.

I shouldn't have expected otherwise – that was my job. Hilda's job was to fight, and my job was to put her in the best position to be victorious.

But, to my surprise, Grit snapped his jaws.

"Are you trying to say something?" I said. "I'm surprised. I took you for the strong and silent type, Croc."

Grit stopped walking and tugged on Hilda's fur… and the Ursaring also stopped. They both looked at me, and Grit made a motion with his claws, squeezing them together quickly and deliberately…

"Wait."

It didn't translate well, since the Krokorok didn't have opposable thumbs. But the gesture was familiar, practically unmistakable. And I, in particular, must have done it a thousand times… usually in a mean-spirited or otherwise mocking manner.

I made the same gesture with my hand, four fingers on top and my thumb on the bottom… 'Blah blah blah…'

And Grit nodded excitedly.

"You mean… you want to go in and talk to them?"

Grit nodded again, and Hilda shrugged.

"Um. I guess I never really considered that as an option. But if there's no Beast involved…"

I shoved my hands in my pockets and mulled it over.

"Yeah… I guess we have nothing to lose."

So that's what I did. With Grit strutting happily at my side, and with Hilda sulking warily at my back, I kept walking until the treeline gave way. I knew I was getting close because Team Plasma had their operation well-lit; white fluorescent light streamed through the brush, in defiance of the night. I stepped out into the clearing…

"Not as crowded as I expected," I muttered to Grit as I scanned the job site.

Well, maybe the term "dig site" was more apropos. I saw a lot of heavy-duty machinery, dump trucks and backhoes and power augers… how had they gotten all of that crap into the woods in the first place? I felt bad for the Pokémon to whom that particular job had fallen.

More importantly, however, I only saw four or five Team Plasma grunts standing around. They were all alert, of course, but I didn't hate my odds against such a small number if push came to shove. They all looked up at me as I stepped into the clearing… but they didn't move to stop me.

"Uh… hi," I called out, lamely.

"Hi," said the grunt nearest to me.

"So far so good, huh?" I muttered to Grit. The Krokorok snapped his jaws again, as if to say that he had no complaints.

"Can we help you?" said the Plasma grunt.

"Yeah… I guess. I don't know, I guess I just sort of expected a welcome wagon or something. Is your boss here?" I said.

"You mean Commander Cambria?"

"Yeah. Let him know… ah, screw it. Where is he? I have a bone to pick."

A second Plasma grunt ran over to speak with the first, and they whispered to each other for a long few moments.

"Are you here to interfere with our work?" said the first Grunt as he turned back to me.

"Depends on what your work is," I said, honestly.

Neither of the Plasma goons seemed satisfied with that answer, but I made sure my posture wasn't more confrontational than usual.

"You should probably leave," said the second Plasma grunt, eyeing the Ursaring behind me. "We don't exactly make a habit of entertaining visitors."

I sighed, and turned to face Hilda. She shrugged, and I nodded in agreement. If we had to beat them all into the ground then we would, and we'd keep pounding until the instant I was sure they wouldn't attract the attention of a certain nemesis of mine. But then I looked at Grit, who had a pained expression on his reptilian face.

I rolled my eyes at him… but I decided I'd take one more swing for the fences.

"Come on, tell Shane his girlfriend is here to see him. He's going to be pissed if you send me away now. There's some pretty mean Pokémon in those woods, and I came all this way."

"His… girlfriend?" said the first Plasma grunt.

I could tell he didn't believe me… but he was a grunt. I didn't need the foot soldiers to believe me. Hilda ate guys like him for breakfast.

The two men talked it over, and they admonished me to stay where I was. They disappeared behind a white canvas drop, presumably to find their boss, and the other Plasma operatives in the clearing glowered at me, daring me to try anything funny… but after a minute or two, Shane Cambria popped his head around the corner of the partition.

I waved to him daintily, and I watched smugly as the curiosity on his face gave way to dejection.

"Dammit, Krista. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Watch it, greaseball. We're not on a first name basis," I said.

Next to Shane, the Plasma grunt who had first questioned me gasped.

"You lied to me!" the young man said.

I was going to take a jab at Shane for hiring a bunch of dullards… but the look on the commander's face made it clear that he had no illusions about the brainpower of his troops.

Shane Cambria took a deep breath, he removed his knit cap, he smoothed his greasy hair back, and he forced a smile.

"Well, Miss Strauss. You've come a long way from Nimbasa City. I imagine you have something important to say?"

"Yeah, something like that," I said. "Can we talk privately? That guy with the beard over there keeps checking me out."

Shane cast another glance across the clearing at his troops and whistled, and they all trotted back to their positions.

"And the Ursaring?" said Shane. The smile didn't fade from his face, but he didn't do a good job concealing his nervousness.

"Right. Hilda, Grit, I'll be fine. You two can take a break," I said.

My two Pokémon didn't look happy as I took their Poké Balls off of my belt, but Hilda and Grit did not protest. I withdrew them both and clipped both Poké Balls back in place, and I followed Shane past the canvas partition and deeper into the clearing.

I felt more vulnerable than I had in a long time, here in enemy territory… but I supposed diplomacy was all about give and take. Besides, Mitzi was surely lurking somewhere in the shadows.

"I knew that somebody was going to come for me," said Shane. "But I didn't expect it to be you. Freya and Scott? Sure. But Krista Strauss?"

"Well, expect the unexpected," I said.

"Thanks for the advice."

We walked what must have been twenty or thirty yards more, winding our way around tents and heavy machinery, and I swallowed hard as I started to recognize the terrain. That big rock up ahead, the gentle slope beside the blue tent, the tallest pine tree in the treeline to the north… I made sure my face was a stony mask.

"Say, do you want some coffee?" said Shane. "I have a nice press, like they use in Kalos."

I considered it for a second. I hadn't exactly enjoyed what I thought would be my last coffee… stupid geezer.

"Sure, coffee sounds good."

"Well, okay. See that folding chair? Take a seat while you wait. I'll bring another one over for me." Shane gestured to a plastic chair in the shadow of a backhoe, and I did as he suggested. I dusted the snow off of the chair and sat to wait for my beverage, shivering for the first time since leaving Lacunosa.

When Shane Cambria returned, he carried with him two insulated travel mugs and a folding chair like the one in which my rear was planted. I accepted one of the mugs from him… the coffee was burnt, but it wasn't terrible. The company was less pleasant.

"Say. That isn't your natural hair color, is it?" said Shane.

I blinked at him.

"Um. No, it isn't. Not quite, anyway."

The black had started to wash out; whatever hair dye Elesa had used had evidently not been designed to last. But I still wasn't blonde.

"There's probably some social commentary to be made there," said Shane, pensively. "The lengths we to in order to convince people we're different on the inside…"

"Mmm-hmm," I said politely.

He was trying too hard. His smile didn't reach his eyes, he sipped his coffee unnaturally, and his posture was rigid.

"Those goons seem to think pretty high of you, huh?" I said after a second, gesturing in the direction from which we came.

"You noticed? Well… I guess so. I didn't want to be a leader, Miss Strauss."

"You just had greatness thrust upon you, huh?" I said. "I hate it when that happens."

"That's not exactly how it happened," said Shane. "As you probably know, I had a… ah, a disagreement with Team Plasma's leadership."

"Oh? I wasn't aware. A disagreement over what?"

"Well, I'm afraid I can't go into details. But, suffice to say that my vision is grand. Evidently too much so for some in our organization." Shane puffed out his chest.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I lied some more.

"I'm intrigued," I said. "Freya told me I could find you here, but now I'm interested in your vision. Tell me about it."

Shane hesitated, and I pressed the attack.

"Or, at least let me hang around here a little while. What's so interesting in the middle of the woods? Building a little hideout?" I said.

"No, it's not that," said Shane, quietly.

"Well, what's all the digging equipment for?" I said.

We locked eyes.

"It's top secret. Plasma business."

"I thought you were a fugitive," I said. "You're a loose end, right? And I thought Team Plasma was trying to tie up loose ends."

"Yeah, well… pretty soon they won't be able to."

"They won't if Chase and I are on your side," I said.

Shane stiffened when he heard his cousin's name.

"What, I didn't mention that?" I said. "Chase used to train at my Gym all the time. The kid's a hell of a trainer."

"He should stay out of this," said Shane. "In fact, you should too."

I frowned, and I studied Shane's face.

"They don't know what this is all about, do they?" I said. "Those guys out there?" I gestured back to where the grunts had assembled.

"They trust me," said Shane.

His false charisma had all but fallen away. He sulked in his chair, his legs crossed and his shoulders hunched, as if the weight he bore was too great for him.

He was here for the Beast; there could be no question. He couldn't just come out and say it… but I wasn't about to tip my hand either.

"So let me get this straight. Team Plasma brought you in, because you're a top-tier Pokémon breeder. You had a disagreement with Team Plasma. You broke off, with a group of ex-subordinates who look up to you…"

"And here we are," said Shane.

"And here we are."

There was silence for a moment.

"One thing doesn't sit right with me," I said. "Answer me this, then I'll stop asking questions."

"How could I refuse such a magnanimous offer?" said Shane.

"Why factory breeding?" I said.

I shivered again as I thought of all those Poké Balls, covered in dust and rolling around on the floor…

"Why? Because it was good money," said Shane. "And Team Plasma's resources helped me scale the operation. You'd be surprised how sophisticated the market is."

"I don't want to know," I said, clenching my teeth on a new wave of nausea. "Besides, there are better ways to make money. I don't want to give you too much credit, but I bet it wouldn't be hard for you to breed a team of Pokémon that could crack a safe or steal a painting. Factory breeding is just so…"

"Immoral?" said Shane.

"Immoral," I agreed.

"That's the point," said Shane, a smile breaking back out across his face. "You're right, running a breeding mill is completely indefensible. The Pokémon were treated horribly, and I have no idea what happened to most of them when they were sold in bulk to the lowest bidder."

So why?" I said, my throat tight.

"Because normal people worry about what's moral and immoral." For the first time, Shane Cambria's smile lit up his eyes. "Average, mediocre people are worried about being righteous, or holy. But that isn't me. I was destined for greater things."

"I think I get it," I said.

"No, I'm not so sure you do." Shane crossed his arms.

"I mean I finally see that we have nothing in common." I scowled, and I reached for Hilda's Ball at my waist.

"Before you do that," said Shane, holding up a hand…

And as if on cue, a nearby diesel motor turned over and came to life, distressingly loud in the quiet early-morning. And then a second, and a third, in a chorus of construction equipment.

"…I changed my mind," said Shane. "How would you like to see what I've been working on?"