There seemed to be an initial murmur of disquiet amongst the ranks of Team Rocket when it was announced that Madame Boss was dead, and that I would take over. Mother was well aware of how things worked, and had warned me that after she died, there would be a spate of rival gangs springing up, trying to undermine the organization. She was right, of course. With help from Trey, we came through it. Mother had instructed Trey to keep a close eye on me at first, and I had been told to pay attention to what he had to say. However, I had been born to rule this underground world and rule it I would.
After I had got over the initial unsteadiness of the first few weeks fully in charge, my aunt and I sat down to sort through my mother's things. It was a straightforward task, as she didn't really have that much left, having got rid of a lot of stuff in the months before she died. I came across a small tattered looking box. Opening it, I found that it was full of old photographs.
"Those look like Dad's," my aunt said. We began to go through them, my aunt picking out the odd one that she wanted to keep for herself. There was my mother holding me not long after I had been born, my mother in her wedding dress with my aunt, various pictures of Stefan and my aunt, including one of her cuddling Stefan when he was a baby – though I wasn't sure if it was her at first, as she had blonde hair.
"What did I think I looked like?" she giggled, when I showed it to her. We continued going through the pictures. There was a picture of my parents before they were married, my mother holding a female Nidoran in her arms. Then the pictures became just of my aunt and mother as young women, then teenagers, then little girls.
"I doubt that house is even standing anymore," said my aunt, referring to the rickety looking wooden structure that appeared in some of the photographs. I couldn't imagine how my grandfather had managed to bring up two children by himself, with hardly any money. I couldn't have done it. Right at the bottom of the box was a small tatty photograph. I thought it was my mother at first, but then I realised it wasn't. The ebony hair was poker straight and was a different style. The woman was sat on a bench, a little girl with brown hair sat on her knee. She had a neutral expression, in contrast to the girl's cheeky grin. I noticed that the woman was visibly pregnant. I turned the picture over. There was a note on the back.
Rosa with Minty aged about 2 years.
The woman had to be my grandmother. I realised that the baby she was expecting must have been my mother, and I stared at the photograph, transfixed by this snapshot in time, feeling strange that I knew what was going to happen after it, that shortly after the baby was born, the woman would leave her family, and the baby would grow up to be one of the most powerful crime bosses in the country. I showed it to my aunt.
"Is this your mother?" I asked, to confirm.
"Yes. I haven't seen this photo for years," my aunt replied, a strange mix of emotions on her face.
"Do you want to keep it?" I asked.
"No. No, you should keep it, with the others," my aunt said, giving me the photo back rather abruptly. My grandmother was someone that was not discussed, as I had found out whilst growing up. My grandfather would redirect any questions, my mother avoided the subject and it seemed that my aunt, who was a tolerant person, was the same way. I looked at the photograph again, and then put it back in the box.
.
Some years passed. I expanded Team Rocket from a reasonably sized but tight knit organization to a sprawling mob. I suppose that was where I first went wrong. To aid the expansion, I had done away with some of the processes my mother had in place to vet recruits, against the advice of Trey.
I did a lot of things against Trey's advice nowadays.
I believed that I should keep what I thought was useful from my mother's reign, but that I also needed to do my own thing. Mother had been driven by the memory of an impoverished childhood and a perceived slight by the government against my grandfather. However, her fights were not mine to continue. As the years passed, I came to realise I simply wanted power. To control, not be controlled. To not be hurt by anyone or anything. To mould Team Rocket into my image, not my mother's.
However, though I had inherited her business sense, I didn't have the same level of management skills she had. I was feared, as Mother had been, but it was a different kind of fear. My mother had respect from absolutely everybody. I did not. The lower ranks would obey whoever was in charge, but the senior members of the organization, most of whom had served under my mother, would often disagree with me, simply I felt, because I wasn't Madame Boss. So, I replaced a lot of them. Another mistake. I ended up losing all that experience they had gathered, plus I made them even more disgruntled than they were before.
Because I had let any old thief into Team Rocket, I had destabilised the foundation of the organisation. I learned the hard way that it's all very well being ambitious, but that ambition must be focused. Trey had launched a stinging attack on me last time we had a disagreement. He was getting to be an old man now, but he had lost none of his grittiness.
"Nothing you can do will ever equal or surpass your mother's achievements," he told me in a rare flash of pique. I had been taken aback, for it had been a long time since anyone had dared to take an argument with me to such a personal level. But Trey's comment made me determined to prove him wrong. I went to the archives and took out all the files concerning Mew. I felt a chill run through me as I leafed through pages of handwritten notes, some made by Miya. I pushed my feelings aside. Despite the personal connection I had to the file, I felt that here lay the answer to Trey's challenge. I didn't know at that moment what I was going to do exactly, but I knew that it would be something extraordinary.
.
"Sir."
"What is it?" I was busy reading the Mew files and didn't really want to be disturbed.
"I have someone who would like to meet you," the agent said. Behind him, a Meowth entered the office. On two legs.
"That's a clever trick, but what use is it?" I asked.
"It'll be very useful to you, boss." My jaw practically hit my desk as I realised that the agent hadn't spoken. The Meowth had.
"Sir, he wishes to join Team Rocket," the agent said. I looked at the Meowth.
"Dat's right!" he said, with what passed for a smile. I dismissed the agent, and looked at the Meowth, unsure of what I should do.
"So, why do you want to join Team Rocket?" I asked.
"To get rich," he answered, jumping onto the desk. Well, at least he was honest.
"And how do you believe you can be useful?"
"My mind's as sharp as my claws, Boss," he replied, cheerily. "I know da way of da streets." He promptly launched into his life story, telling me about his time in a gang of Meowth's. The character he showed made me warm to him. Plus, he was a Meowth, one of my favourite Pokémon. I decided to let him join us, though I had him sent to the labs to be thoroughly checked over to make sure he wasn't carrying any kind of device that would show he was some sort of bizarre plant sent by another gang. After that, he became a constant companion, much to the chagrin of my Persian – an offspring of the Meowth I had found injured. I gave both as equal amounts of attention I could, but I have to say, the inane chatter of Meowth soon began to wear thin. I decided that I should give him a job. He wasn't a stupid creature, and seemed to like mingling with other personnel, particularly the field agents. So, I began to send him to help in various areas, which he seemed to enjoy, and kept my Persian contented.
A short while later, I was sat in my office browsing through the profiles of the latest batch of recruits. Unlike my mother, I rarely dealt with such things myself, but I had allowed Tony, the man who oversaw processing new recruits, to take a short break. So, it was another lot of boring paperwork for me to look at. Most of the lower ranks looked the same to me these days, there were that many of them. I opened the next file. The photograph of the teenage girl that smiled back at me shook me out of my boredom. There was something very familiar about her. She looked almost like…like Miya. I shook my head. It hadn't been the first time I'd seen her image on someone else's photograph. The smile that had been on her face the last time I had seen her still haunted me. I lifted up the picture to look at the personal details underneath.
Surname: Musashi
Forename(s): Jessica Violet
Date of Birth: 26.11.80
For the second time my heart stopped. It was too much to be a coincidence. I looked at the photograph again. I stood up, with the file in hand, and made my way out of the office, out of the headquarters, and back to my home. Once there, I found the framed picture of Miya and Jessie that I had taken out of Miya's apartment all those years ago. I compared it to the photo on the file. There couldn't be any doubt. The girl who had just signed up for Team Rocket was Miya's daughter. And mine. I sat in the chair, not knowing what to do.
Then I grew suspicious. Why had Jessie come back to Team Rocket, the organisation that cost her mother her life? Was she after some sort of revenge? I then thought that I should reject her application and send her on her way. But I was curious to know about where she had been for what was almost twelve years. In the months after becoming head of Team Rocket, I had attempted to press Trey on the aftermath of Miya's death and though he admitted to clearing Miya's rooms on my mother's orders, he claimed to know nothing of Jessie's whereabouts.
He was loyal to my mother to the end and beyond.
No matter, Jessie was here now. I wanted to know who she had become. Besides, if I sent her away, that would make me as bad, if not worse, than my mother. I made my way back to the Headquarters, and summoned Xan. Sometime after I became the boss, I had placed him in charge of training agents. I showed him the picture.
"It's Jessie," I said. He looked at the picture, then looked back at me, stunned.
"So it is," he said.
"I don't know what to do," I admitted. "Do you know anything about her?"
"To be honest, Gio, I've hardly seen her. She was picked up along with some lad about the same age on the outskirts of Viridian City," he replied.
"Can you try to find out more?" I asked.
"Well… Can't you?" Xan replied.
"Oh come on, Xan. If I have her in here for a chat, it'll just look odd. People don't tell their boss things about themselves, anyway," I said.
"People tell their father things," Xan said. I shot him a look.
"I'm not going to tell her," I said.
"Why not?"
"I can't say 'Welcome to Team Rocket, Jessie. By the way, I'm your dad,' can I? Imagine the effect that would have on her."
"I know that, but are you going to tell her in the future?" Xan asked. I sighed.
"I don't know. I want to get to know her first."
"I suppose that's reasonable enough," Xan said. "What if she asks about Miya?"
"Miya's a different matter. She can have all the information she wants on her mother if she wishes," I said. Xan nodded.
"Well, I'm taking her for a training session tomorrow morning. I'll let you know how she goes," he said.
"Thank you," I replied.
"At least you know where she is now," Xan said.
"Yes. A strange twist of fate, isn't it?" I said.
.
Over the next month, I learnt about Jessie. I secretly observed her during some of her training. She wasn't as talented as her mother was, but she still had above average skills in handling Pokémon. However, she was just as spirited as Miya had been, and wouldn't let herself be down for long. Unlike Miya though, she had a ferocious temper, which I suppose I'd have to admit, reminded me of myself. Jessie's vivid blue eyes were the same as my father's, and therefore gave off the same intense glare he could if he was angered. Coupled with a rage only my mother could have matched, she made a terrifying spectacle, surprising for someone who was not quite seventeen. I learned that she had spent some time at the Pokémon Tech, though it was not successful, and afterwards she had been in some gang. God knows what else had happened to her as she was growing up – Xan said that she seemed reluctant to talk about her past and made no reference to her mother whatsoever.
I doubted the boy she hung around with knew much about Jessie's life, either. James, as he was called, was somewhat of an oddity for Team Rocket. He had obviously come from a very well-off background – takes one to know one – and was of a gentle disposition. My mother would have sent him on his way if he had tried to join in her time. James seemed reluctant to get his hands dirty at first, but as he seemed to follow Jessie's lead, he pitched in with the same level of enthusiasm she had. Soon they were out on their missions. The first few were quite successful. I never sent them on anything that would be too dangerous, for I did not want to lose Jessie as soon as I had found her. Unaware of the reasons for my decisions, they carried on, quite happily. I thought that they would be the ideal team for Meowth to be with, so I assigned him to work with them. They hadn't been together for very long when the three of them came to my office at Viridian City, quite jubilant.
"Sir, we think we've found something interesting," Jessie said. She was usually the spokesperson for the trio.
"And what's that?" I asked, keeping myself unemotional. They knew that they weren't in my good books at the moment for their part in causing the Viridian City Pokecentre to be destroyed.
"A really powerful Pikachu," Jessie replied, enthusiastically. My gut feeling told me that this was the beginning of a road to nowhere.
"A Pikachu?" I said.
"It was responsible for blowing up the Pokecentre," Meowth said. I restrained myself from rolling my eyes in disbelief. I was currently residing in the gym because it was the start of the new Pokémon battling season, and the usual influx of trainers were wanting their Earth badge. The explosion at the Pokecentre had happened one evening two days ago when I was, of all places, in the bath. Being only round the corner from the centre, the tremor caused by the explosion caused the whole gym to shake, making me wonder if there was an earthquake, so I had leapt out of the bath, put on my bathrobe and looked out of a window, only to see flames coming from the Pokecentre and fire engines rushing to the scene. Fortunately, there was no damage to the gym, but when reports on the news suggested that Team Rocket had been involved, I instantly issued an investigation. The event was far too close to home for comfort. Jessie, James and Meowth had handed themselves in, and after a reprimand, I had sent them out again. They hadn't mentioned the Pikachu at the time, but something had obviously made them think again.
"Well, what are you suggesting?" I asked. They looked at me slightly surprised, as if they expected me to be jumping up and down with excitement.
"We think that it could be a useful asset to you in the laboratories and the organization as a whole," Jessie said. I sat back in my chair and considered things. It shouldn't be too much of a problem for them, and though I doubted that a Pikachu was capable of blowing up a large building by itself, a use would be found for it. I looked at the three of them, who were waiting for my answer. Jessie had the same look of anticipation on her face that her mother used to have when she was expecting something.
"Fair enough, go and capture it then," I said. They were obviously delighted but remembering that they were in front of the boss, they kept themselves restrained.
"Thank you, Sir. You won't be disappointed," Jessie said, as they left the office.
If I had known that six months later, they would still be after the damn thing I might have reconsidered. For whatever reason, they had lost their early successfulness. On the other hand, it kept Jessie safe, and they were so determined to get this Pikachu that I just let them get on with it. I would reprimand them when they needed it but avoided making the punishments too severe. A pay cut was usually enough, or some menial task. In the meantime, I was making good progress with the Mew project. I had sent a team to South America to look for more clues. Part of me hoped that they would find Miya, but I knew that that was improbable. I took out the photograph of Miya and Jessie, from happier times. I studied Miya's face, comparing it to Jessie's.
At least one of them had come home.
The End