A/N:
Not much to say here other than the fact that this is a pretty important chapter for a lot of reasons. Hope you all enjoy! Please consider leaving a review and voicing your thoughts.
Special thanks again to Orthros for the proof reading services, as it's always a massive help.
"…" - Spoken dialogue
Italics - Michael's thoughts
'Italics' - Telepathic dialogue
/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene
"The first law of war is to preserve ourselves and destroy the enemy."
-Mao Zedong
Ch. 34 - A War of Change
Michael laid back against the seat, skimming through one of the magazines that had been placed out in the lobby. Countless people were out and about, and outside of the large windows several planes were visible. Not the one that he was waiting for, though. The noise around him barely registered to his ears, his mind already occupied with how heartbroken the girls were. So much so that, for the time being, they actually preferred to be in their balls.
Alaina had spoken privately with him that night. She was a lot more understanding of his predicament, but still pleaded with him not to go for another reason entirely: she didn't want him back in that kind of environment. It had been a very heartfelt discussion - one that took hours at that - but he wouldn't back down. All this worrying about mental health was in vain, though, especially when there were actual concerns for them to deal with. He needed to be back there with the others so that they could end the ideological turmoil that they had unknowingly allowed to rise. Eventually the latias gave in, albeit reluctantly, saying that she wasn't going to stop him but that it also wasn't fair to the others, or to him for that matter. But war never was fair.
The looks on their faces, though, when he had told them that horrible news. That would stick around for a long time. Of course, there was all sorts of arguing. He had been yelled at by more than one of them, that was for sure. The anger, then the crying - all from a promise broken. A promise that he desperately wanted to keep, and yet he couldn't bring himself to uphold it. Or even break it for that matter. But he had to. Everything they ever loved would be at risk if they didn't stop this disease before it continued to spread. It was already partially here, and it had already infected other regions to the very core. A nightmare it may have been, but it would be their reality if they did not destroy Delta.
Another fucking group of radicals, he thought to himself. They would get to topple drug markets all over again, as if their past work had been for nothing - like it had vanished into thin air. Not just that, though, but espionage for crooked politicians? It all sounded exhausting to even think about. He could hardly believe that he'd allowed himself to get sucked back into all this, but yet he couldn't bring himself to truly hate it.
There would be one good thing to come from all of this, though. Surely everyone would enjoy getting back together - both him and the girls. Michael would get to see his comrades once again, while the girls would be able to associate with the other Reapers' pokémon. But that didn't make up from what had been snatched away from them at the last minute. He just hoped that the others would come to be as understanding as Alaina was. He doubted they would be for some time.
The very plane that they were going to take had just been loaded with its final passengers - some of which would likely engage in the same challenge that his pokémon had been so eager to participate in. He made them all one promise in order to try to ease the mood: when this was all said and done, they would challenge whoever the next champion would be. Granted, that wasn't even a remotely suitable substitute for what he had just taken from them. That guilt was on him and would be for a long time to come. But the shame of not showing up and leaving his comrades - all of which had similarly sacrificed - to fight in a war alone was something that he couldn't bear the thought of. It wasn't a fair choice to make, but Reapers often times had to make those sorts of decisions.
The intercom announced the upcoming departure of a flight to Lumiose. Why anyone from Johto would want to go there was beyond him. But then again, nobody in their right mind would sign up for what the Reapers did. And speaking of the Reapers…
The two officers in uniform that he had been waiting for had made their way into the waiting room. It was time to go.
. . . . .
The familiar mountain range had come into view, as did the several other aircraft going to and from the rebuilt base, which had now been named after the Secretary of Defense who had personally seen to every single detail regarding reconstruction. Fort Stryker had become an even more impressive stronghold after the attack that had demolished it. Johto's military budget had increased once again, and the country had truly spared no expenses. The amount of guard towers, missile defense systems, and troops stored within had all but doubled. Everything had been rebuilt both bigger and better, a testament to the country's impressive military might. Just let someone come and try that shit again, he thought as the Chinook descended towards the specified landing zone. Aside from Commander Hawkins, four of his comrades were standing outside, waiting for him. Everyone wore their uniforms, a reminder that now, he had once again entered an environment where things were no longer casual.
Upon exiting the Chinook, something else had caught his attention: Wesley had been promoted. Formerly the rank of lieutenant colonel, or commander, he was now a full colonel. But while that was a big deal for Hawkins, that could be an issue for the Twenty-Fifth squad. There could be a chance that he would not advise them anymore. For the time being, though, that wasn't the prominent concern. The two officers that had ridden with him had taken his bags, presumably to bring them to his room. That had served as a reminder to him - he may as well release his five pokémon so that they could be escorted there also. After exchanging salutes with them, Michael quickly removed the balls from his belt loop and did just that.
He wasn't expecting any sense of happiness when he took this action. But what surprised him was the fact that of all five of them, Alaina and Elise were the only two that even looked at him. Instead, they took notice of the situation and began to head towards the base. But as Layla passed the others, she stopped for a split second, then addressed Hawkins. "I hope you're happy, now that you've dragged us all back into this…"
"Layla," Michael said, clearly in disapproval. She only ignored him, going on her way with the officers towards their living quarters.
"No," Wesley said, "I understand. I'd be upset too, given their predicament." Yet the job needed to be done, and they were the only ones that could do it. Them and a dozen or so other similar teams that hopefully had managed to assemble once again. "It's great having you back, son. Only wish it was under better circumstances. Let's head inside - the others are waiting for us in the briefing room. After that we can get you ready for your new implants."
"Implants?"
"Yeah," John said. "They managed to improve the VFT. It's not going to be a collar anymore. Apparently it's in the form of a small insert of some sort into your ear. I'll be getting mine today too."
"Well I'm not envying you two. They hurt like a bitch for a day or so," Thomas said.
"Worth it though. You'll be able to understand all pokémon," Wesley said.
"Then what do we do about the others?" Michael asked.
"I'd hold onto them in case the new ones break, but other than that, they won't be needed. These are better in every way."
"So then I guess that's why the older models just went on the market then, huh?" Michael asked.
"You got it. And in maybe ten or so years, these will be available for the public too." He was admittedly glad to hear that he'd be able to understand pokémon so much easier after this procedure. Of course, the ones he cared about the most wanted nothing to do with him for the time being…
The inside of the base was just as impressive as the outside. It was clear that any attempts at another raid would never work again. Not just here, either: Johto had planned for all-out war should the threat become apparent. If only they'd been this prepared back then… then maybe things wouldn't have gone the way they had.
The group had made their way to one of the elevators, and Wesley hit the button. As they waited for the door to close, Michael spotted a group of both humans and pokémon, each in their respective uniforms, speaking without any issue. The pokémon among their group all wore the older model VFTs. For the time being, it looked like these newer ones were exclusive to special forces.
But what was more important was the fact that they all were laughing. Mostly privates - first class - from the looks of it. True, they could be dispatched into some form of combat… but it was increasingly unlikely. With this ongoing conflict, odds are they wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Ironically, they were employed to wage war, and yet they most likely would never understand what war actually was. It was messy, cruel, and destroyed you one way or another. Not laughter.
"Nate also wanted to speak with everyone," Wesley said as the elevator came to a halt. "Says he's got something that will interest all of you." Ever since the CIC and the army had collaborated to bring down Douglas, their alliance had been stronger than ever. In fact, the private organization was now doing most of their work with Johto, and if they carried an operation out, then they could expect Johto's troops to come with them. They also had several stations around this facility, as the Reapers had discovered during their third tour.
"Are they getting involved in the fight against Delta?" Alex asked.
"They already are. They helped us gather a lot of our intel, and since they are still technically part of Kanto, they have served as our eyes and ears over there. Off the books, of course," Colonel Hawkins replied.
"Yeah. Something tells me we're gonna be doing a lot of stuff off the books this time around," Thomas said. With their new enemy so prevalent in the media, they wouldn't have the luxury of being as loud as they were back when they fought off Stone's organization. The thought of the terrorist having made an accurate call sickened him. But in the end… some people would hate them for what they believed in.
And that wasn't to say that everything Johto supported was fine. Not by a long shot. He was counting down the days when his relationship would be considered normal - because it was. But if it took tyranny and entitlement to force a nation to change that perspective, then he wanted no part in it. So what if some people thought he was weird? The Reaper doubted that they'd have the courage to say it to his face, of all people.
The elevator came to a stop on the thirteenth floor. Wesley led them around the corner, and the large set of double doors stood in front of them. But Michael couldn't help but think about one other thing. "We aren't waiting on Kevin?" he asked.
"No. It'll be two more days before he shows up. We'll just fill him in once he gets here. Giovanni will have to return to Kanto tomorrow, so we can't hold this off. Barely could in time for you guys."
"Alright then." The doors opened on their own, and the group entered into the briefing room. A large series of tables surrounded a holographic display which could be controlled by the tablet held by Giovanni. Nathaniel sat to his right, and a few other CIC higher-ups. But they by far were not the only ones present. No; three other squads of Reapers and their respective commanders sat throughout the room. Instinctively, all members of Johto's military saluted both Michael and John. Not necessarily them, but that one medal that both of them wore from their actions three years prior. Even a general was required to salute the Star of Valor.
Soon after, everyone was seated, and the room fell quiet. With Wesley beside Giovanni, they both exchanged some silent words to one another, before the former Rocket leader handed the tablet to Hawkins. "Alright. Glad we could get as many of you to come on such short notice," Colonel Hawkins began. "By now, all of you have heard at least some of what's been going on. We're here to get everyone up to date with what we currently know and what our plans are." He tapped the tablet once, and the hologram sprung up a display. A symbol that they would come to loathe hovered before them: a circle enveloped a smoothly-drawn "D." The center of the letter was formed in such a way that a triangle was created by the blank space. The only color used in the symbol was blue.
"Team Delta is an organization that seeks to turn the whole world blue. They've already succeeded in three major regions so far. Kalos, Unova, and Hoenn - their country of origin - have all fallen in line with Delta's agenda. They were the main force that Douglas Stone was concerned with, and most of what he was fighting off. Now in his absence, they've grown significantly more powerful, and they're trying to continue their plans."
"This is a pressing concern for us as well," Giovanni said. "Delta has a much stronger foothold in Kanto than they do here. With that in mind, the CIC will have to focus most of their efforts in fighting them off in our own region. And we may need backup if they attack us with the law. I wouldn't be surprised if some of their politicians tried to outlaw our organization for opposing them."
"Don't worry," Wesley said. "You've got our number. We're always here to help you." He returned his attention to the dozens of Reapers in the room. "Now one thing to keep in mind before we get into any of the specifics: a lot of Team Delta is composed of activists. Young and misguided, but they aren't the enemy. The ones we're after are those up top - the ones that are colluding with organized crime lords of all sorts. Nathaniel and his crew confiscated over 15,000 kilos of cocaine around the border within the past few weeks alone. After questioning, we discovered that these cartels were connected to people that we believe to be on Delta's payroll. And that might not even be our biggest concern at the moment. There's an uncomfortable amount of our politicians who may be tied to that group. Point is that they're already here. But we're gonna have to speak a language that they comprehend - one that they'll get through their heads just fine. After we're done with them, Delta will never even think about stepping foot on Johtonian soil again.
"So here's how we're going to approach this. All squads will be deployed together, as you usually would be, but you will each be focusing on separate parts of the organization for these first few months. The Twenty-Seventh and Eighth will both be focusing on drug shipments throughout the eastern half, while the Twenty-Fourth will take on the west. Twenty-Fifth and I will engage in crooked politicians, and the Sixth will be attacking their primary moneymaker: the sex market. By specializing, we'll be a lot more efficient in bringing these worthless people down. Everyone should report to their commanders two days from now to receive briefings for your first missions," Colonel Hawkins concluded.
Not long after that, everyone was dismissed. Most of the Reapers did what they always did: stuck with their own squads and kept to themselves. That was certainly what the Twenty-Fifth was good at. The five of them remained close to Hawkins, who was talking something else over with Giovanni and Nate. Michael waited until they had finished discussing whatever they were before asking the question that had been on his mind ever since he'd gotten there. "How much longer will you be instructing us?"
"They've given me this tour," he answered, "maybe one more if we fail to shut them down this year. The Reapers always need to remain together in times like this. But after this is all said and done, I'll be commanding the brigade stationed over at Westbay."
"Well, guess that's to be expected," Alex said. The three of them that had not known before were disappointed to hear this, but with Hawkins' track record, it was clear that he would not remain a commander forever. This was a large promotion for him, and anyone would take it. But it still sucked for them, especially considering that now, they were all wrapped back up in this line of work. Surely another older, ex-Reaper would have the qualifications to command their squad, but none of them wanted another leader.
"I hate to leave you boys like this, but this'll probably be the squad's last time around. I'm surprised everyone even agreed to come back this year, to be honest. That's why I accepted the promotion," he said.
"Yeah, makes sense," Samuel stated. "Once we destroy Delta, I'm focusing on the trainees again." Not to mention Thomas would likely continue on his own career outside of direct combat as well. It was something that was bound to happen: the group breaking up. Hell, it was something that was already supposed to have happened, but yet here they were for one more tour.
"I'm proud of the men that each of you became," Wesley said. "No doubt that all of you will succeed wherever you go after this - military or not. But right now, I need you all to do what you were made to do. So let's finish this year strong." Of course, he was preaching to the choir. It wasn't in a Reaper's nature to half-ass anything.
They had just about gone their separate ways when Nathaniel had decided to speak to Michael. "Don't go just yet. I've got something I want to show you." The CIC commander headed for the door, with the curious Reaper following behind him.
"What's all this about?" Michael asked as they took the elevator. He noticed that Nate hit the button for the second floor.
"We thought that everyone might be willing to come back," Nate stated. "It's not like you all to want to leave it, truth being told."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Be honest with yourself. Are you upset that you're here right now?"
"Yeah. I had to just disappoint the girls in a way that I can't even begin to describe…"
"But aside from that. Imagine that it was just you." Thinking it over, Michael had to admit it.
"Then I probably wouldn't have left in the first place."
"Exactly. Just like Samuel and Thomas," Nate said.
"That's a little different," Michael replied. "Samuel isn't college educated, so he doesn't have too many other places to go, and Thomas had always been going after a lifelong career in the military."
"They still chose to stay. And the rest of you were willing to drop everything just like that to come back."
"What are you getting at?" the Reaper asked. The elevator stopped, opening up to a small crowd of waiting people. The two of them got off, Michael not paying any attention to the salutes as they passed by.
"What I'm getting at is the fact that we knew that this group would probably be fully reunited, and we know how well you all did with a CIC partner. And you aren't the last, either - a lot of Reaper squads have been doing really well with our recruits. We train pokémon far better than most militaries, so that doesn't come as a surprise. Giovanni and I talked it over, and we felt that the Twenty-Fifth could use another partner."
Nate had led him by now to a training room, where pokémon were tasked with showing off their combat skills in battle. Soldiers stood along the sidelines as several different battles were waged. No trainers were present; everything was left up to the pokémon. The CIC commander motioned towards one in particular: a fight between a blaziken and a rhydon. The two of them weren't engaged in a conventional battle, but were rather fighting in a very close-quarters scenario. Instead of the large, rectangular field, a circle was drawn around the two of them - no more than five meters in diameter. The rhydon was doing its best to land a hit on its much more agile opponent, but it was coming up short each time.
"Which one?" Michael asked.
"That one," Nate said, pointing to the blaziken. "She's good, isn't she?" Just as he said that, the blaziken ducked under a harsh hammer arm attack, barely missing her head. Taking advantage of his momentary vulnerability, she responded with a hasty flamethrower. The attack barely did anything to the rock-type aside from burn him a bit, but he was caught off guard once again by the fire obstructing his vision. The blaziken kept her distance and unleashed a dark pulse, sending him sliding towards the edge of the circle. What? Since when can a blaziken use a move like that? He wasn't the most experienced trainer out there by far, but that was more than a little strange to see. Several of the soldiers laughed as the male pokémon had nearly been forced out.
"This game is a really good training exercise," Nate said. "The purpose is to force them to resort to physical moves. Of course, Zaire doesn't like to listen…"
"Her name is Zaire?"
"Yep. She's a relatively new recruit, and she hasn't mastered her abilities. Not by far. But as you can see, she's more than capable of handling herself." With the battle not going in his favor, the rhydon unleashed a surprising move as well: thunder bolt. Before Zaire could attempt to dodge it, the wicked bolt of electricity surged through her body, making her stiffen up as her opponent slammed into her with a take down attack. The blaziken savagely impacted the ground, and a black mist surrounded her. What the fuck? He'd seen this once before. And that was with him, of all people. It can't be…
But his suspicions were confirmed. The image of the blaziken had faded completely, much to everyone's shock, including the rhydon. What was left was a zoroark. "Surprised?" Nate asked.
"…To say the very least," Michael muttered. "Is this some sort of a sick joke?"
"What?" Nate asked.
"So he's just replaceable, like that? One zoroark goes, and you just go and snatch up the next one you see?"
"Look, I thought you might be appreciative. That's a rare species, and one that's been incredibly useful for your operations…"
"That's all Zeke was good for? Just some tool for operations?"
"I don't need to be lectured about the value of life by someone half my age," Nate snapped back. "Zeke was an amazing guy, but we all had jobs to do. I hate what happened to him as much as you, but we have to continue our work." Michael glared at the female zoroark, who was attacking with far more vigor, now that she didn't have to worry about maintaining the illusion. A dark aura surrounded her arms, and the rhydon tried to charge her before the attack connected. Zaire leapt to the side at the last second, narrowly avoiding her foe. She extended her arms, launching the shadow ball as soon as he hurriedly turned around. At such a close proximity, it connected with his face, knocking him down onto his back. The rhydon shook his head, then went to get back onto his feet, only to realize that everyone was already clapping. He looked down to find that he had fallen out of bounds.
"Well, regardless of if you want to know her or not, she's already been assigned to your squad," Nathaniel said. "Just give her a chance." Michael didn't reply, having nothing to say about the matter at hand. The CIC member likely realized this, and left him to himself, watching as the two pokémon exchanged some words in their own language. He wanted to turn around and leave, but the zoroark had met his gaze. She walked over and extended her clawed hand. He paused for a second and then shook it. Zaire happily began to say something, but all he was able to hear was the incomprehensible growls. Still, they sounded soft and sensual, all while a mischievous tone was in the mix as well. "I can't understand a thing you're saying to me right now," Michael stated. "No implants yet." She rolled her eyes, but still kept saying something - probably to herself. Before they left the room, she made her way to the wall, where a bag rack was. She took a simple, digital camouflage one - dark blue and black - and returned to his side.
As the two of them made their way through the hallway back to the elevator, Michael was fuming to himself. Not because of anything that she had done; he didn't have any opinion on Zaire one way or another. But as far as he was concerned, this really was a dick move by the CIC. Maybe Nate hadn't intended to make such a statement in simply throwing another zoroark towards the Twenty-Fifth, but he couldn't care less right now. Those fucking nightmares hadn't even receded, and now he had to look at another member of that species every single day. He hated it, but he had to get used to it, or at least for another year. It wasn't like there was anything he could do about it, though.
"Have you been on any recon missions before?" Michael asked as they waited on the elevator.
"Zor," she said with a nod.
"Well that's good. How long have you been at it?" Zaire held up five of her clawed digits. "Five years?" he asked. She shook her head in response, making him fall silent. Great… he wasn't fucking kidding about the new part… "You do realize we're gonna be heading into some pretty intense shit, right? We can't afford any mistakes." But the zoroark didn't seem concerned about it in the slightest, rather keeping that somewhat smug grin that he was already starting to become annoyed with.
As the number had counted down, Michael felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He casually took it out and looked at the message on the screen. Well, looks like it's time. Though he had intended to go back to the housing floor, he had been reminded of a certain procedure that he had forgotten about. Michael reluctantly hit the button for the seventh floor, where a surgeon was probably already waiting on him. And being a procedure of this sort, it would be unlikely that he would receive anesthesia. It was something that he always kept to himself, but he hated going on an operating table.
"This is my stop," he said once the elevator had hit the specified floor. "Guess I'll see you around."
"Rrr," she growled softly, a smile on her face. Though she was notably feminine, she still reminded him of the one that he had lost before. He turned around and walked off, not making eye contact again as the doors closed back.
The seventh level had been remade into the medical floor. Most of the time procedures such as evaluations and general check-ups were the most commonplace, as well as nursing wounded soldiers back to health. But occasionally stuff like this went on. From what he could tell, there would be a lot more done towards artificially enhancing soldiers in similar regards. It was a growing field, and one that the military had a significant interest in. After navigating the hallways, he found the room number that Wesley had texted him. The door was open, and the two people that would be invading his ear canal were sitting on the chairs against the wall. One of them was a male ENT specialist in his mid-sixties, while the other was an alakazam.
"Right on time," said the white-haired man.
"Yeah. How long should this take?"
"Oh, not long. Maybe thirty minutes?" Michael looked on the counter, where the various medical instruments were neatly positioned beside a small, white box. He opened it and found two tiny microchips encased within a thin plastic covering, each one almost half a centimeter squared. "Shit… and you're gonna put this thing in my inner ear?"
"Yep. That won't be a problem, will it?" He appreciated that the surgeon had a sense of humor, but it did nothing to comfort him. "Can't be any worse than being shot, and you've felt that a time or two. Plus you'll be drugged up, so you shouldn't feel too much." Hating the idea of what was about to happen, Michael walked over to the large reclining chair in the middle of the room and took a seat in it.
"Alright. Let's get this over with…" As if on cue, the alakazam telekinetically made the instruments float towards the tray connecting to the chair, setting all of them down, including the two chips that would soon be a part of him.
'I sense you are uneasy,' the alakazam mentally said to him. 'Rest assured that I have done this procedure hundreds of times. The operation here will not hurt much. Most of the inconvenience occurs from the aching that you will experience over the next few days.'
"So I've been told," Michael replied. The ENT specialist selected his otoscope first and had a look into Michael's ear.
"Okay." He must have found the nerve he was looking for, as he grabbed a tiny swab and ripped open a pack for sterilization, before rubbing the tip of it in the compound. Returning to his work, he cleaned the specified area within Michael's ear. "That should do." Michael had only noticed the alakazam's presence on his other side when he felt another instrument enter his other ear. Taking the last of his preparations, the specialist retrieved a small syringe filled with xylocaine. He was not looking forward to this one bit.
. . . . .
Once the operation had been completed, Michael headed back to his quarters. The anesthesia had not fully worn off, and as a result, a significant part of his head was still numb. But pretty soon he was going to miss that feeling. Once he reached his room, he took the card key that had been issued to him and found the set of rooms designated only for those associated with the Reaper program. This time, there were about thirty of them, stretching out into a long hallway of their own. Finding his number, he held the card in front of the scanner and walk inside.
The atmosphere was quiet. Michael looked around and found nobody to be home, other than Layla lying lazily on the couch, flipping through the channels. He went and sat down near the end of her feet. "Mind taking off your VFT?" he asked. The lucario reached up without looking and undid the latch, letting it fall down. "Say something."
"Something."
"Alright. Looks like these work after all. You all won't need to wear those anymore."
"Neat," was all she said, finally settling on a station. He looked down, trying to figure out what to say in this situation. It was clear that she didn't feel like talking. Nevertheless, he decided to press onward, hoping some form of discussion may result from his efforts.
"You know where the others are?"
"Charlotte is next door. The others went to get something to eat."
"Oh. Not hungry?"
"How could I be?" she asked. "Not after that stunt you pulled." Though she was trying to mask it, the hurt in her voice was unmistakable.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked.
"What the hell do you think?" Judging from her response, he felt that he knew the answer to that. "You dropped everything that we all wanted to do just because some man in a uniform asked for you to."
"Our country needs us," he countered. "Do you think that I wanted any of this? I don't want to be here right now."
"But you are. And that's on you. Hawkins didn't make your decision for you, yet you came! And you all but tell us to fuck off and deal with it!" At this point, her voice had escalated into a high-pitched yell, and the lucario was on the verge of tears.
"Layla… if I could have my way, then we'd be in the Indigo League this moment."
"Then why aren't we there?" she asked.
"Because I can't sit back while all the others go to war - while the country risks falling into the hands of people just as bad as the ones we spent years taking out."
"I'm tired of all this," she sobbed. "I'm tired of moving around from base to base, just waiting on you to do whatever it is you all do out there." He looked down on the floor, focusing his gaze away from her. There was silence between them, the only sound being the television and the quiet sniffling coming from the lucario. He hated seeing them cry, and yet it seemed he was always the cause of it. "I want you to promise me one thing," she said through her tears.
"Anything."
"Swear to me that this will be the last time." He took her hand and gently pulled her into a sitting position, to which he embraced her. He didn't want to say the words - nobody knew what may happen in the future. But the way things were looking now, it might just be that he would need to make a choice between his career and his relationship. That was a decision he could make hands down.
"Once we've destroyed Delta… then I'm done with the military," he replied. She slowly nodded, before returning his hug.
"…Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. They stayed that way for a moment, just holding each other in silence. Michael wiped the tears from her eyes, then kissed the lucario on the forehead.
"Let's go find the others. I'm sure you could use something to eat, too."
"Alright," she said, before hopping off the couch. He was relieved to see that she felt a little better about his decision to come back. Naturally, it hurt him to see his mates in such a state. Hopefully he'd have luck in winning over the rest of the girls.
But one thing still concerned him: the promise he had just made. If he was being honest with himself, Nate was completely right. This job tore your very soul out, and yet he still loved it - all of it. From the protection of the innocent to the thrill of the kill, everything they did was captivating and exciting. If more was asked from him in the future, then he might just be tempted to return once again. But I can't do that to them. Not again. This very situation had put a massive strain on his relationships with the girls, and that was something that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He only prayed that something like this would never happen again, and that after all members of Delta had been dealt with, then he would finally be able to leave it all behind.
As he shut the door behind the two of them, he noticed a particular zoroark fumbling around with a card key of her own, attempting to get into a room. Great. "They stationed you down here?" he asked in disbelief. Her ears perked up and she quickly faced them.
"Heh, what did you expect? I'm a Reaper now too, you know."
"As if."
"Aww don't be mean. I was only joking. In any case, sounds like you got the implants. What did it feel like?"
"Like a doctor forcing a damn microchip into my ear. What do you think it felt like?" She pursed her lips.
"I dunno. Never really had an issue with it. I do find it funny how the 'oh-so-clever' humans can't even understand us without their toys, though."
"Do you need something?" Michael asked, clearly in irritation.
"Nope. Not a thing. Just talking with my new comrade," she said with a laugh. "Anyways, I've had a pretty long day, so I think I'm gonna rest up for awhile. Might come harass you some more later." He didn't have a response for that, aside from already deciding that she was an annoying presence that he would have to put up with for only one tour.
"Ah, it's this way," she said, finally managing to position the card in the correct manner. With that, she retreated into the room only three doors down.
"She's kind of… odd," Layla said under her breath.
"You don't say…"
. . . . .
The members of the Twenty-Fifth squad sat in the briefing room, this time having it all to themselves. Some of the other squads had already been sent out on their assigned missions. For this group in particular, their first one would come tomorrow. Everything was rushed, and as soon as intel could be obtained, they were told to act. These were jobs that only special forces could pull off. This one was a prime example of that.
"This is our first target, Trey Lyman," Wesley said, displaying a picture of a man in his late forties. He was slightly overweight from the looks of it, with black hair and some very slight wrinkles. "He's been confirmed as one of the largest players in the prostitution ring throughout Goldenrod."
"Consensual or forced?" Kevin asked. Wesley narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
"I mean are those women being forced into that market, or are they just doing it for a job?"
"What does it matter? Both are against the law." Kevin nodded, though he didn't seem convinced. "Anyways, CIC sources say that he's currently residing in a motel chain outside of the city limits. It's owned by him, so we'll need to assume that everyone there is hostile. We want this one alive for questioning."
"How many of us?" Alex asked.
"All of you, including our newest member," Wesley responded. "Zaire's illusion abilities could be helpful if the situation heads south." The zoroark in question was impatiently tapping her claws in a rhythmic fashion, which was becoming a little more than irritating. Not as irritating as hearing that she'd be going on the mission with them, though.
"Don't you think it's a bit early for her?" Michael asked. "Nate said it himself, she's still a relatively new recruit."
"I told you before, I have been on recon missions before. Six already," Zaire responded.
"Probably not of this caliber."
"I'm sure she'll be fine, Michael," Colonel Hawkins stated. "This should not be an overly difficult mission for you all to pull off, and I'd say her past experience qualifies her - at least enough for something like this. We're only looking at maybe fifteen people total." As much as he hated it, there wasn't any arguing with your superiors - not in this line of work, and even if you disagreed with them. But Wesley did have a point. He let the matter go. "As usual, for a mission like this, you all will be using suppressed MP5s and USP 45s. We want this to go quietly so we don't throw the city into a panic."
"So just take out the guards and bring him in?" Thomas asked.
"Yes. Once we've forced the information out of him, we will begin going after his colleagues. His absence will probably lead to a vacuum in the city, so we will likely need to stick around for some time to continue fighting the recovering prostitution ring. After pickup tomorrow night, we'll be stationed at the Camp Gatley for a few weeks."
Without much else said over the course of the briefing, the Reapers were soon dismissed. All of them except for Alex went on their own way. Really the only thing registering to Michael's mind was the sharp pain throughout his head, no doubt from the horrid procedure that had just been done on him. And to think, they would need to do that every year or so when the batteries in these damn things went out… He almost preferred the collars. Hell, why did he even need to understand other pokémon aside from his girls? But it wasn't a choice.
As he made his way back to his room - hoping to get some ibuprofen or something to counteract the pain - he could hear someone approaching from behind. He glanced over his shoulder only to find no one there. Great, so now I'm hearing things. He turned back, coming face to face with Zaire. "Shit," he said as he hurriedly stepped back, causing her to laugh.
"See? I told you I know what I'm doing." He shook his head in disbelief, then walked past her. "Hey - I wasn't done with you." The zoroark picked up the pace to match his.
"What is it now?"
"Come on, are you always in such a bad mood?" she jeered.
"Are you always so annoying?"
"I'm not annoying," she said in defense, "you just need to lighten up a little. But that's not what I'm here for. You all had another zoroark, right?" This was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now, especially with her.
"Yeah, we did. What about him?"
"Well? Where did he go?" she asked. He hit the button for the elevator.
"He's dead. Got killed when our base was leveled."
"Oh," she said quietly. "I'm sorry to hear that. I take it you were close?"
"He was my sixth pokémon. Yes."
"Damn, that's gotta be hard to deal with," she said. You don't say… he thought. They arrived on the housing floor, and Michael stepped off.
"Is that all you wanted to know?" he asked, praying that it was.
"Nope, not by a long shot." Motherfucker. "I read about you, ya know. You snuck outta that place with a sceptile, right?"
"Raptor. She was Douglas' pokémon."
"Right. Why did she help you escape?" she asked.
"Because she knew what her trainer had become, and what he was going to do. She decided that she wouldn't stand around while he destroyed countries and had pokémon all but enslaved again. Had it not been for her, I wouldn't be here now. Neither would Hoenn. But it was a decision that cost her. She took the bullet meant for me…"
"Sounds like you were becoming close to her too," Zaire commented. "Damn, if I went through all that, then I'd probably be a downer all the time too… But at least try to look on the bright side - I'm sure they're both in a better place now."
"Yep, there's definitely a bright side. They may have been killed in cold blood, but I'm sure everything will be just fine, right?" She looked at him, unamused by his harsh sarcasm.
"Chill out. I was just trying to help…"
"Well don't. There's nothing that can be done, so there's no need to bring either of them up." He had reached his door and quickly opened it. Before she could get another word out, he had shut the door behind him - a little too loudly. He probably had treated her more than unfairly. Odds were she meant no harm in being as irritating as she was, but that personality combined with that species… It was the last thing he wanted in his life.
The three girls present had flinched upon hearing his entrance. Layla, Charlotte, and Elise all sat on the couch while a movie played on the television. "Sorry about that."
"What was that for?" Layla asked.
"Just trying to get away from being hounded from our new partner. Why they would think it appropriate to give us another zoroark is beyond me."
"Yeah, that's pretty rough," the lucario said. He took his spot beside her in the middle of the couch. The other two were at the end. By the looks on Charlotte's and Elise's face, it looked like they were still upset. He couldn't blame them for that. "Well, Alaina decided to enlist as well. She'll be doing medical evac with Ver it looks like."
"Great. Last thing I need is another one of you enlisting…" He hated that Ver was out there in the first place. Even though her role was not combative in nature, that didn't mean she couldn't be shot. Many of the people they fought would not hesitate to shoot a medic attempting to rescue a fallen enemy. And now a second girl would be in on it? But it would be a double standard to keep them from doing a safer job when he himself was out there in one of the most dangerous occupations known to man.
"Alaina is more than capable of holding her own. More so than any of us - even you. I wouldn't worry about her."
The four of them remained mostly silent as the movie played on. He wasn't too invested into it - he may have seen it a time or two before - but he knew the plot well enough. It was about a knight who had fought in the Great Kalosian War, taking down enemies much stronger than him. Based on historical context, it didn't end very well for any of the people involved…
When the commercial break came, he picked up the remote and muted the television, gaining all of their attention. "Do you all forgive me for doing this?" Michael asked. It was a question he hated to ask, but a necessary one. Charlotte was the first one to speak.
"I… don't want to be here at all. But I can't blame you for coming back. I just… wish that you hadn't. I don't know what it's like for you all, but it probably would have been impossible for you to stand by while the others went out again." That was true. In many cases, members of special forces were closer to their comrades then they were to their own wives or children. They had the highest divorce rate in the country for a reason. That wasn't the case with Michael, but he couldn't bring himself to allow the others to fight without joining in himself. "Layla told me about your promise. I'm holding you to that," the braixen said. He nodded - he had meant every word of that. The second Delta had been dealt with, he was out of there.
"I forgive you," Elise quietly said. "I can't be upset at you… but I'm still sad about the whole thing."
"I can understand that," he replied.
"But I do want to challenge the league. All of us do," the glaceon said. "Is it still going to happen?"
"Absolutely. One day, we're going to fight whoever the new champion is, and we're gonna win. Once we've finished up here, what happens next is up to you girls. I'm done forcing you all to tag along with whatever I'm doing. It's time I let you all call some of the shots." The glaceon nuzzled into his hand.
"Thank you," she whispered. Charlotte also came in close, wrapping her arms as much as she could around his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lucario leaning in. He raised his arm, ready to bring her in to the group hug as well, only for her to grab the remote with a grin and un-mute the now continuing movie.
"Ah, and here I thought you were being affectionate," he said.
"I'm just messing with you," she laughed, before kissing him on the cheek. "Now I'm glad to hear that we're getting things in order, but I really wanna see this."
As they watched the movie in mostly silence, Michael's mind was racing with thoughts of this upcoming year. Where things were headed were beyond him, but one thing was for certain: this course of action would have consequences. No doubt the left would use their political machines - mainly the media and education system - to try and create hostility towards them for fighting back. But Johto was not a country that would sit down and take a hit. They were going to rip Delta out by the very roots and level anything that got in their way.
