Out of Your LEAGUE
Out of Your LEAGUE
Part 3 :: The Conference
By Seabeast
:: III ::
"I don't believe this!" Kassin marched angrily around the long wooden table, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he shook his head in agitation. "It's been over a week already. Exactly who did you send out?"
Mikael gathered his courage before answering. "We sent Bugsy, AJ, Butch, and Cassidy—"
"That's it?"
Kassin's cold grey eyes were making Mikael uncomfortable. The icy blue light illuminating from Icewing's tank behind the field agent made the beads of sweat on Mikael's young face even more visible to the ruthless murderer before him.
"Well, sir, we—"
"And you still can't find them?"
"Well, not quite, but we—"
"But what?" Kassin demanded harshly, slamming his fists down on the table and making Mikael jump. Mikael clutched the sides of his chair with white knuckles, trying in vain to speak under his master's hard stare. Suddenly Kassin's eyebrows arched. He withdrew his hands from the table slowly, concealing them within the wide sleeves of his midnight cloak. Clasping them once more behind his back, he stared calmly at his field agent. "Are you withholding information?" he asked, a smile twisting at his lips.
"N-no, sir!"
"Because you know the punishment for withholding information, don't you?"
By now Mikael was sweating profusely. Now he began to shake in fear. In a small voice, he replied, "Of course, sir, I would never—"
"Wouldn't you?" Kassin tugged at his thin goatee as he thought about his situation. Mikael definitely knew something he didn't. But what? "I hope you are aware of where your loyalties should lie, young Mikael," he said evenly. "I will find out what you aren't telling me, I can assure you, and it will be before you can be rewarded for your bravery here today. Now, what are you keeping from me?"
"Nothing, sir—!"
"I believe I perceive you to be lying, Master Mikey," Kassin sneered. "Now tell me where they escaped to before I lose my temper!"
Mikael began to shake violently. The fact that he was hiding something was obvious. Exactly what he was hiding, however, was not. What news would he feel safer not to reveal? Just because Icewing had eaten the former field Master for bringing forth bad information didn't mean she would do so now.
"Tell me, Mikey," Kassin said after a moment or two of tense silence. "Do you mind if I call you Mikey? I know everyone else does." Mikael nodded stiffly, barely daring to move his head. "Excellent. Now, I know that you know if they were eaten by my Shadows. Were they?" A slight shake. "No? Then where are they?" Nothing. "Are they in hiding?" Still nothing, but the teenage Master was swallowing nervously. Kassin was quickly losing his patience.
"I am tiring of this game, Mikey," he said softly, his tone cold. "I need to kill them before they get to Drake. Now, if they are not already dead, and they aren't in hiding, where are they?"
"I d-don't know, s-sir—"
"Bullshit!" Kassin roared. "Now I demand to know: where are Ash and Misty?"
Ask the TeeKay, his Partner suggested calmly. Kassin backed away from Mikael, who had gone very white, and looked into the tank behind the trembling boy to see Icewing hovering in the water a few feet from the clear glass wall. He knew she had been listening to the interrogation, but he hadn't been aware that she was watching it.
Mikael jerked around to see what his master was looking at and balked when he saw the enormous form of Kassin's TeeKay just a few feet behind him.
"My Partner has just presented me with a most interesting idea," Kassin said slowly, watching his agent's reaction with interest. "Why don't we ask your TeeKay where they are? I'm sure that, given a little. . .persuasion. . .by Icewing here, he'll tell us what we need to know."
Mikael spun back around, his face white. "Phuzfoot? No! He-I-he has nothing to do with this!"
"I grow tired of your incompetence, Master Mikael," Kassin growled. "Now get out your damn Eevee!"
The single door burst open suddenly, making the already edgy Mikey jump. He barely managed to catch himself before he toppled his chair. Kassin turned around, glaring maliciously at the man who stumbled in. "How dare you interrupt me?"
"I'm sorry, sir," the man gasped, clutching the doorknob for support. He looked very tired and blood was trickling out of his nose and one of his ears. "But Master Kir has just arrived. He-he says it's important and he demands to be let in. He says he's—"
"Goddamn you, you miserable secretary, move!"
The man began glowing a deep black fringed with yellow. Eyes wide in panic, he was suddenly lifted from the smooth stone floor and hurled out of the room altogether. Kassin could hear him hit the roughly cut stone wall lining the crude hallway hard, but he didn't feel much remorse. The man could easily be replaced.
Another man entered. Unlike the secretary, he carried with him a confident air of purpose, the black robes billowing back around his feet accenting his importance. A large Umbreon trotted in at his heels, black fur standing on end and bristling with nervous Dark energy. Instead of the bright yellow circles his kind normally had, Kuroi's only splashes of yellow were at the base of his tail and the pads of his feet, making him look more like a drifting shadow than a living being.
Kassin left the table, his brows furrowed as he watched Kir stride into the room. He looked agitated. Kir stopped abruptly when he saw Mikael, cowering behind the long table in the presence of the two most powerful Masters in the Eidolon. Kir jabbed his finger at the door and glared at the field agent. Mikael stared as a black bit of jagged energy cackled once around Kir's exposed wrist before disappearing into his sleeve. The boy didn't need to be told twice. He quickly scurried from the room, so glad for an excuse to leave that he didn't both picking up the chair he had knocked over in the process. Only when the door slammed shut behind him did Kir turn to face Kassin.
"They're in the LEAGUE."
Kassin froze. "What?" The water splashed loudly against the sides of the tank as Icewing jerked her massive wings in surprise.
Kir slumped into a spare chair at the table and rested his head in his hands, his black hair flipping up to cover his dark brown eyes. Kuroi leapt up onto the table to curl up in front of him, his intelligent eyes watching his Master intently. Kassin waved his hand at the fallen chair and it righted itself for him to sit in.
For the next for minutes there was only silence, broken rhythmically by the slosh of cold water in Icewing's tank as it settled. Kassin sighed suddenly and muttered, "Well, that answers that question."
Kir and Kuroi each lifted their heads to look at their comrade. "What question?"
"Mikael was withholding information. Seemed to think I'd let Icewing eat him if the news was bad."
Which it apparently was, Icewing added. But I wouldn't dilute my diet on the likes of him. He's much too young, anyway.
Kir nodded, setting his head in his hands again. "They found footprints in the mud left over from the storm," he said wearily. "Way too many to be just the two of them."
"But the Shadows. . ."
"They were human. Mikael's group figured it was the LEAGUE, but they weren't sure. I went to check it out just after the rain stopped."
"And you confirm it?"
"Yes. With all the security Drake's got in his HQ, this is the first time I could squeeze out and tell you."
"Wonderful," Kassin grumbled, running a hand through his dark hair. "Drake's already got his hands on Ketchum. Already locked him up in that impenetrable Hold of his, no doubt. He'd never have the heart to just kill him."
Kir perked his head up again at Kassin's comment. Kassin, noticing the movement, looked up too. His eyes narrowed when he saw the spark of cold excitement on his agent's face. "Not quite. . ." said Kir slowly.
He stood suddenly, his Umbreon lifting his thick ears and twisting them in his Master's direction. "Misteara somehow convinced Drake to give Ketchum a chance in front of the Board. Says he deserves a chance for saving her life that night. I can vote against him." He had been pacing while he talked. Now he paused and looked at Kassin. "Should I?"
Kassin turned to look at Icewing. "What do you think?" he asked aloud. "It'll be next to impossible to get to Ketchum once he's in the Hold, but if he gets assigned field work. . ."
Then he will walk right into our hands, given the right bait, Icewing finished for him, grinning evilly.
"What'd she say?" Kir asked, but Kassin didn't hear him. He was thinking hard about something. He suddenly whirled back to face Kir.
"Vote for his freedom." Seeing the look of intense disgust on Kir's face, he continued, "Kir, you're my top spy. Your intelligence, along with the ridiculous precautions Drake insists on taking to make everything anonymous, is more than enough to shield your name. I'm sure a few members would be extremely suspicious if they discovered you voted in his favor."
Kir scowled. "That doesn't mean I'll like it." Kuroi stood and stretched, then padded quietly over to the door to wait for his Master. Kir turned to leave, too. "I'll gather a few of my spies later and try to get information as to what Drake plans to do with him. If they vote him free, that is."
"Oh, they will," Kassin said. Kir looked up sharply at him. "You'll make sure of it."
Kir sighed, reluctantly accepting his orders. Replacing his hood, he said grimly, "I'm going to regret this." He turned to go, but Kassin stopped him.
"Where are you Teleporting from?"
"I don't know yet, but somewhere close. I'm probably late for the Board meeting."
Kassin tugged at his goatee, thinking hard. "My Teleport Block extends a mile in all directions—"
"Yes, I know that," Kir interrupted, anxious to go. "I helped create it, remember?"
"Yes, yes, of course." Kassin waved his friend's impatient comment away with his hand, only half-listening. He smiled as Icewing helped along his quickly developing scheme with ideas of her own. "Teleport from Malhane," he said suddenly. "And stop by Falkner. Tell him to prepare his Flying grounds for the arrival of Glayr and Cindyr."
"What?" Kir gaped. "The Smoke Sons? Do you really think that's—well, of course you think it's necessary, but—but why?"
"I'll send for you when they get here," Kassin answered. "No go."
"But, Kassin—"
"Go."
Kuroi whined from the door. Whether it was from anxiety to leave or a sign that he too, wanted answers, Kassin didn't know. "You're right," Kir said to his Partner, reluctantly placing his hand on the doorknob. Before opening it, though, he turned back to Kassin. "Why won't you tell me what you're planning to do?"
"We'll send for you when the Smoke Sons come," Kassin repeated. "Until then, Icewing and I will be piecing it together." Kir, although thoroughly unsatisfied with his answer, left, Kuroi at his heels.
He's the only one alive that dares question you, you know, Icewing commented.
Kassin looked back at the tank in time to see her willowy tail disappear in the midst of the dark arctic water. He smiled. "I know. Even when we were kids he didn't know when to stop."
Icewing's voice floated eerily out of the tank in her natural language, sounding more like a ghastly song than a sentence. ~He does now.~
"Do you think they'll clear Ketchum's name?" Kassin inquired. He walked over to the large tank and peered into the inky waters, searching for his graceful TeeKay. Icewing sent him a crisp image of himself staring into the tank from her point of view, teasing him. Her vision was always sharper in her natural environment.
I believe it will be close, she said after a pause. But Ketchum will win.
"Yes, he made a lot of friends back when he was a Trainer, didn't he?" said Kassin thoughtfully.
And enemies,said Icewing coolly. They will not permit his freedom without a fight. The evidence against him is poor, though they still have a hard time tracing it to anyone else, but there is virtually none in his favor. Kir will have to work very hard to set him free. It will be difficult to keep his efforts discreet.
"Yes, and we'll have to set up something fairly threatening to draw him out of Drake's grasp. . ." Kassin trailed off in thought.
Might I suggest something involving his father? asked Icewing evenly.
Kassin grinned. "Perfect."
We need to begin our preparations immediately. Glayr will need precise directions, and Cindyr hates waiting for his brother to solve equations.
"Yes, and we need an arena open and fresh for Infyrno," Kassin added. "I know he likes his space. Perhaps Zippo can provide him company." He sighed. "I suppose I should contact them. Come, we have a lot to do."
:: III ::
"Let's see now. . .the square root of 52,539.627, times 15-to-the-692nd power, divided by the absolute value of 692, times the quantity 52 plus 16-to-the16th, divided by 2, squared by the measure of angle DKL. . ."
"Can I press the button now?"
"Not yet, Cindyr. . .plus the square root of 27, multiplied by X, which equals negative B plus or minus the square root of B squared minus 4AC all over 2A. . ."
"Now?"
"Hold on. . .divided by the quantity 1600 minus 5-to-the-235th. . ."
"Oh, come on, Glayr—"
"Now!"
Cindyr jammed the button with his finger and the twins watched in admiration as the 27-story building before them literally crumpled. Jets of orange fire streamed from the empty windows as the very foundation burned to the ground. A crackling sound soon replaced the large exploding booms, and in less than five minutes the entire building was engulfed in flames. The boys stared, mesmerized by yet another of their blazing spectacles.
"Um, Glayr?"
"Yes, Cindyr?"
"I think we used a little too many explosives."
"I believe you're right."
"But wow. . ."
Glayr lowered his grandfather's sunglasses to better watch the burning mass of what was once Cinnabar Island's Vertical Mall as another wall crumpled, emitting a high screeching sound. His brother's arm was suddenly on his shoulder as the pyromaniac of the two leaned on the brains of the operation.
"You know," said Cindyr suddenly, "this would be so much cooler if there were people inside."
"Most definitely," agreed Glayr. Their Bi-Partner huffed in anticipation and, at a nod from the twins, soared over their heads to skim through the heat waves on vast jade wings. The Charizard's heat-resistant, rough, pebbled black skin glowed deep fiery colors as they reflected both the flickering light below them and the fading sun's rays from above. The twins' hair matched his ebony skin perfectly, the black locks glinting the deep reds, blues, yellows, and oranges of a burning flame as they seemed to tease each other from within, each color disappearing as suddenly as a new one emerged until it seemed as if a live fire was hidden within them.
"When do you think Kassin will allow us to blow up the LEAGUE?" asked Glayr suddenly. Cindyr's arm dropped from his shoulder as he turned to face his brother, identical emerald eyes flashing in the setting sun.
"As soon as he feels like telling us where it is," was the reply. "But when he does, we'll make sure it's packed full of agents before we pack enough explosives to blow it to Tangelo!"
"Unquestionably!" Glayr agreed, grinning. "But first we'll slip a few of our special 'sweets', and observe them as they clamber for chilled liquid!"
"But that'll be after we flood their bathrooms—"
"And line invisible wires along the floors of their halls!"
"And teepee the outside!"
"And string handheld combustibles on all the doorknobs!"
And answer your comlink. The human fraction of the Smoke Sons turned as one to see Infyrno sail up from the twisted heap of burning stone, cool green wings stretched to their full span. It was then that they heard the beeping issuing from each of their belts.
"Hello?" they answered as one.
"Glayr? Cindyr? Where are you?"
The twins looked at one another sharply. It was the Boss. The Boss never called unless it was important. He knew how much they liked to toy with him and Icewing.
"Well," began Cindyr.
"We're currently located on Cinnabar," finished Glayr.
"Doing what?"
The twins grinned, then said together, "Blowing up a mall!"
They could hear the smile in Kassin's voice as he spoke his next words. "Do you have any explosives left?"
The boys' grin widened. "Will that be TNT?" asked Cindyr.
"Or Nitro Glycerin?" completed Glayr.
"Excellent. Listen, I need you two and Infyrno to come down to the compound as soon as possible. I've got a job for you."
"Involving what?" asked Glayr, suspicious.
"Involving a team of you three and one of my best agents."
"Which one?" was the echoed answer.
"Agent Ketchum."
The twins' eyes widened. "What's compensation?" asked Glayr, his dark brows furrowed.
"If all goes well, you'll have the coordinates to the LEAGUE headquarters by the end of the month. This will take some careful planning, Glayr, so come prepared."
"Yessir."
The link was cut abruptly and the brothers grinned at one another. "BOO-yah!" they exclaimed together, exchanging high-fives.
"Come on, Fyrn," Glayr called to the ebony Charizard. "We're Flying to Saffron!"
"This demolition is gonna be bombdiggity!"
:: III ::
Ash took a deep breath, trying desperately to shove down the huge swarm of Butterfree welling up in his stomach as he watched Nealyn enter the Board room with an air of subtle confidence. Ash wasn't used to being this nervous. He needed to be calm. He needed to be collected. He needed to wipe his hands on something.
"Pika pika. . ."
Pikachu's words had no real translation as the mouse patted his best friend's shoulder for encouragement before disappearing into the folds of his dark hood. Neither thought it best for the Pokémon to be seen right now, so Ash took care to fully cover his long, black-tipped ears before entering the room.
The pair were greeted by the loud din of the surprisingly large room, but the conversations stopped abruptly when Ash appeared. Except for one man, who was caught off guard by the silence as he yelled, "Think of Cinnabar! Does no one here remember Blaine?" An older version of Koga noticed the hushed silence immediately and swallowed, rather nervously, before backing into his seat. After that, the click of the closing door was clearly audible throughout the room.
All eyes, some angry but most afraid, were on Ash, who silently stepped up beside Nealyn. He took the awkwardly silent time to inspect the enormous room.
A large, thick circular table made of dark wood rested just before Ash and Nealyn, every chair filled. Drake Cytris's chair, opposite the single door, was the largest and most ornate. He was flanked by Professor Oak and his grandson, Gary, who was watching Ash coolly as his fingers fiddled with a pen. Ash's sharp eyes traveled once around the table, picking out the familiar faces: Brock, Suzie, Aidon, a Jenny, a Joy, Lance the former Pokémon Master, Tracey, Koga, Shingo, and, surprisingly, Jessy and James from Team Rocket, out of uniform and watching him curiously.
He eyes involuntarily came to rest on Brock, who was staring at him intently from his seat between Suzie and the single Jenny. He looked older, his skin a little more tan, his hair a little rougher. Even though he had grown an inch or two, his towering frame now well over six feet, he still looked like the same girl-chasing, chef-prodigy Brock that Ash had always known. Except, something was different. . .Ash squinted at his left hand when suddenly his eyes widened, catching a flash of gold. Was that. . .was that a wedding ring?
Someone cleared their throat roughly and Ash looked away, noticing, not for the first time, that everyone was dressed in variously colored Master's robes—with the exception of Jessy and James, who were both cloaked in an identical creamy white one.
Do you think they Bi-Joined? Ash asked Pikachu silently. Pikachu's ears perked up unintentionally at the mention of the unusual Joining of two humans to a single Pokémon, and they both realized their mistake when the loose folds of cloak covering the mouse fell away.
Koga jumped up suddenly and, pointing at Ash, cried, "You allowed him to bring his partner in here?"
There were hushed murmurs from all across the room and Ash was a little surprised to see long wooden benches lining each of the rear walls, barely visible in the shadows. A golden plate was engraved into the front of each; one said 'Cabinet', one 'Shelf', and the other 'Jury'. Every seat was filled by numerous people Ash didn't recognize, although he could pick out a few memorable faces. He found it surprising, though, that most of the people in the benches were not in any type of robes.
"Who allowed him his TeeKay in here?" someone from the Cabinet yelled, standing suddenly. Ash frowned at him; the man's silver and yellow TeeKayball clearly visible at his protruding waist. Weren't their Partners allowed to accompany them in here? Then why not Pikachu? The man saw Ash's confused gaze and sat down abruptly, swallowing hard.
For a few minutes there was nothing but silence as each member of the LEAGUE waited for another to speak. Drake looked around with an eyebrow cocked, then cleared his throat, cracking his knuckles over the table.
"So. . ." he began slowly. "I'm fairly sure everyone present is aware of this case—"
"What case?" a woman from the Jury shouted. "I thought our only decision was whether he'd die today or tomorrow!" She was instantly accompanied by others voicing the same opinion, and before Drake could react the room had broken out into dozens of angry voices, all directing various vulgarities at Ash and Pikachu, who had decided to peek around Ash's head now that his hiding place was discovered.
Well, said Ash grimly, at least we know what they think of us.
Who knows, Ash, Pikachu sighed. Maybe this won't turn out the way you think.
Yeah, and maybe a rampaging Lugia will burst through the door and kill us all in a mad rush to find a cookie for its aching sweet tooth.
Pikachu sighed at his friend's sarcasm and both settled back to warily observe the melee.
"He should be dead already!" one man was yelling.
"The Kanto Chronicle and the Johto Journal said he was dead already!"
"They did?"
"Silence!"
"Why is he allowed in here, anyway?"
"Where is his restraining device?"
"He's dangerous!"
"Silence!"
Ash, Nealyn, and Pikachu watched them shout themselves hoarse in silence. Nealyn glanced at Ash and shrugged. Only the actual members of the Board itself—those seated around the table, Ash supposed—remained silent, frowning at one another and speaking in low whispers. Oak leaned over Jenny and nudged Brock with a gnarled walking stick as the former policewoman glared, rubbing her noise where it had accidentally bumped her. Drake had lurched to his feet after the first few comments, but Brock was content to simply sit and stare blankly into space over Oak's stick, which he didn't seem to notice. He was clutching Suzie's hand tightly as she whispered something in his ear that he either didn't hear or chose to ignore.
Everyone was ignoring Drake's shouts to calm down. After a few minutes of shouting and generally not getting anywhere in particular, he threw his arms down in exasperation and collapsed into his seat. Ash's eyes widened as they caught a glimpse of a thick gold bracelet encircling his left wrist. Pikachu automatically magnified it with his own, sharper vision for Ash, and together they watched as a dark maroon light zigzagged across the ancient design etched into its surface and flared brightly, somehow managing to light up the entire room. An ear-splitting sound accompanied the flash, so deep it seemed to vibrate Ash's very bones. He shivered pleasantly and felt goose bumps arise on his skin. It wasn't a roar exactly, more like a rolling moan that reminded him strongly of whales and Lugia's song.
Ash looked around curiously as the almost pretty sound died away, and watched in puzzlement as everyone in the room sat in quiet attention. He glanced at Nealyn questioningly, but the doctor was too busy rubbing his ears to notice.
"Thank you, Kade," said Drake warily, sinking back in his seat. His bracelet had stopped glowing and he looked rather relieved.
That hurt, Pikachu complained inside Ash's head. Ash could feel a slight headache forming in the poor mouse's head, and winced when he felt his long ears ringing.
"Now," began Drake calmly, as if he hadn't noticed the monstrous sound that had just torn through the room. "If we may begin I would be most appreciative. Nealyn, please present your case."
Nealyn cleared his throat and stepped a bit in front of Ash. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Board, Cabinet, Shelf, and Jury, my case is simple," he commenced. "My supporters and I disagree with the Board's latest decision to execute the prisoner, Asheron Ketchum." Ash jumped a little when he heard that. They were planning to kill him?
"In fact," Nealyn continued, "we disagree with the mere title of 'prisoner' that he has received." A small wave of whispers passed once around the room before they were silenced by a firm look from Drake.
Drake shifted in his seat so that he could fold his hands on the table. "Doctor Nealyn," he began slowly, "are you aware of the past occurrences that have earned this man his title?" Everyone was careful to avoid Ash's eyes.
"I am," said Nealyn evenly.
"And are you aware," continued the Board leader, "that for the past six years he has purposefully evaded the law and consciously chosen not to present himself to the law enforcement teams ordered to arrest him?"
"I am," Nealyn repeated, "but are you aware of the conditions?"
Drake's eyes narrowed. "What conditions?"
"If Asheron had even attempted to speak to another human being they ran. If he so much as stepped foot in a city the people would shy away and call the police. Several examples of this have been reported in numerous newspapers shortly after his arrest was first issued, though most simply said he had been spotted within city walls. However, not one said that he had been trying to harm someone. He had no way of working to earn his keep and no way of trying to prove his innocence, as any 'law enforcement officer' would shoot him on sight—"
"And what is your proof of this?" Drake interrupted, watching Nealyn closely. Ash was, too. He had never guessed that someone might actually know what he had gone through, that someone might have known why he kept going back into cities and why he stole food every now and then.
Nealyn hesitated and Ash, realizing that however much Nealyn had discovered about him he could never win this case alone, stepped forward, thrusting his right arm out toward the table. Koga flinched as if he thought Ash would strike him, but everyone else frowned and squinted closely. "Here's you proof, sir," he said unemotionally.
Everyone craned forward to get a better look. There, just below his elbow, was a long, thin line of pink skin that contrasted sharply with his otherwise tanned arm. At the end farthest his elbow, which was over halfway down his arm, the thin line unfolded into a quarter-size splotch. Drake looked from Ash, to the scar, and back to Ash again before speaking.
"Were you shot?"
"Almost," said Ash shortly. He was a bit distracted by the surprised whispers of his audience. They hadn't expected him to speak.
"What do you mean, 'almost'?"
"This one grazed my arm and embedded itself just under my skin, sir. Me and Pikachu had to dig it out."
A few people winced at the mental image this produced. Drake merely stared.
"Has this happened more than once?"
"Numerous times." Ash covered his arm again and felt Pikachu lightly scratch the back of his neck for support. "Most grazed my legs and disappeared somewhere, but this one nicked my arm while I was running."
"I see. . ." Drake frowned thoughtfully.
"Now wait just one minute, here!" cried Koga suddenly. "There's no proof that that's a bullet wound! For all we know he could have gotten it tripping on a tree branch!"
"No," said Nealyn calmly. "I examined him. A 'tree branch' would never cut anywhere near as deep as a bullet."
Koga rounded on him. "Now why would we believe—"
"Enough, Koga," said Drake sharply. Koga glared, but remained silent.
"You see, sir?" the doctor explained. "Any contact with civilization and he was shot at. Any attempt to speak to anyone and he—"
"Why didn't he use a telephone?" the Jenny at the table asked shortly. Ash, Nealyn, Pikachu, and Drake stared at her.
"There, you see?" Drake asked after a pause. "He had other methods, he just chose not to use them."
"That's not necessarily true, sir," Nealyn contradicted. "All the phones I've ever seen have been in or near the center of populated areas. Plus, the Eidolon knocked out the phone lines over two years ago."
"True," Drake admitted. "But can you prove to the Board that it was actually a certified policeman who shot him?
Nealyn glanced at Ash. "Well, sir, we have his word—"
"I'm talking about physical evidence that our Intelligence Department can study and examine, Doctor," said Drake evenly. "Can you present any? Perhaps a bullet?"
Again, Nealyn hesitated. "Well, I'm not currently in possession of any such evidence, sir—"
"And do you possess the evidence to support your claim that he has even tried to speak reasonably to someone?"
"Not exactly, but—"
"Do you have any witnesses or anything living persons that Ketchum has come in contact with and has tried to speak to?"
"Well, they're not present today, but I have spoken to—"
"I'm present."
Ash looked sharply at Brock in surprise, along with everyone else in the room, Drake especially. "Have you spoken to him before, Brock?" he asked, sounding stunned. Brock nodded careful not to meet anyone's eyes. "Then by all means, Slate, please continue."
Brock took a deep breath and squeezed Suzie's hand tightly. "It was right after Goldenrod," he began softly. "Me and Misty had just left the city on our way back to Kanto. He and Pikachu found our camp out in Ilex Forest our first night there. . ."
:: Flashback. . .
"Brock?"
"EEP!"
I dropped the ladle into the stew I had been stirring and fell off my dead log, landing on my back. Hard. Sitting up slowly and rubbing my lower abdomen, I managed to pull myself up onto my crude seat and scan my surroundings. It was too dark to see much, and I had been so jumpy lately that what I heard was probably not what I thought I heard—meaning it was probably some owl or something. Yeah, an owl. That's all it was. An owl. The cheap plastic ladle was about to become a permanent addition to my stew, so I focused on picking it out with my fingers without seriously injuring myself, awaiting Misty's return. She would like this stew, I concluded, trying to get my mind off the surrounding trees. We both would. It would soothe us and let us forget for a while, let us smile for the first time in days. . .
Two minutes later I had almost picked the blasted thing out when a twig behind me snapped. The mutilated ladle fell back in the soup with a clang as I stumbled around the fire in an attempt to put its flames between me and the. . .the. . .well, it wasn't an owl.
"Who's there?" I called nervously. I hated the way my voice cracked. It never had recovered its stability in the past week or so.
"Brock, is that you?" a voice said timidly.
"Misty?"
"No, it's. . .it's me. . ."
It sounded like a guy. A guy that had been running recently and was out of breath. I could just barely make out a human form approaching, but the clouds were thick tonight and it was hard to see.
"Me who?" I demanded, taking a step back and trying to calm my pounding heart. The figure walked into the flickering firelight and I suddenly stopped breathing.
"Ash?"
He looked terrible. His hat was crooked and dirty as well as his clothes. He had a healing cut above his eyes and his pants looked as if he had run through a rose bush. His jacket was gone and—no, wait. He was holding his jacket in his arms like a baby and Pikachu's unusually ragged ears were poking out the top. My eyes widened when I saw his right arm; it was covered in blood, so much that it was seeping into his clothes and dripping freely at his feet.
"Ash is. . .is that really you?" I whispered, stepping forward. It—it just couldn't be Ash. He looked like he had aged ten years and hadn't eaten in ten days.
"Yeah. . ." He looked scared. He kept looking off into the distance, ready to bolt if so much as a twig snapped.
"Ash. . ." I finally got my voice back. "What are you doing here? Why'd you run when the police came?"
That finally got him to look at me. He was still a good ten feet away, but the firelight magnified the terror in his eyes perfectly.
"They're after me," he said breathlessly.
"They're what? Who?"
"The cops." He stepped up to the log I had been sitting on and fixed his chocolate eyes on something invisible off to the left.
"I thought I could bum some food off the old Daycare Center, but a Jenny was there. She—they—shot at me."
"You were shot?"
"I guess. I'm okay now." He didn't look okay. Holding Pikachu closer, he tore his eyes away form the left and stared blankly at our campfire for a few minutes.
"Ash?" I asked cautiously when he didn't move. He looked as if he were searching for something. "Ash, are you—"
"Where's Misty?"
I hesitated. "She's—she…I don't know, Ash. At night she wanders off for a few hours to take some Misty-time, you know? She—we—were pretty traumatized by what happened."
"Oh. . ." He looked really disappointed. An owl hooted in the distance and he jumped about two feet, looking around nervously. Suddenly he turned to me.
"Brock, I need your help."
"What? What do you mean? 'Cause if it's hiding you from the police, I won't do it. Me and Misty both agreed that you should go to court and face a fair trial—"
"What?" he snapped his head up from the fire and stared at me open-mouthed.
"Look," I said quickly, "it's nothing personal, we just think—"
"Nothing personal?" he exclaimed. "Brock, I just managed to escape thirty cops with guns and now you want me to go back? They shot at me Brock! I got shot! I didn't think they would do it, I thought I would be okay, but—"
"Yeah, but Ash, maybe it's for the best—"
"You think I did it, don't you?" he asked quietly. The shock in his eyes made my heart freeze. I couldn't answer. What was I supposed to say? Ash noticed my hesitation and took a step back. "Oh my God, you guys actually think I killed them."
"Ash, no we don't," I pleaded, hating the way he looked at me. He took another step back when I stepped up to the fire.
"Then why do you want me to go back?" he demanded harshly. "If I go back, they'll never put me on trial. If I go back, they'll kill me. Do you want me dead, too?"
"Ash, you know that's not what I meant—"
"And what about Misty?" he asked roughly, backing out of the firelight completely. "Does she hate me too?"
"Misty. . .Misty's confused. And so am I, Ash, but I don't want you dead—"
"Then do me a favor," he said shortly. Balancing Pikachu carefully in his left arm, he undid his PokéBelt with his right and tossed it to me, wincing as the wound on his elbow was stretched. "Take care of my Pokémon for me. Give Misty all my Water and do whatever with the rest of them. Just don't give them to Trainers like Gary, okay?"
I nodded, confused. He turned to go, but I stopped him.
"Ash. . ." He turned to face me. "Don't you want them anymore?" Did he trust himself around them, after what he had just done?
Ash snorted in what was supposed to be laughter. "Of course I want them," he said tersely. "But look at Pikachu. He's been doing nothing but. . .but protecting me from everything for almost two weeks now. Oh, jeez, has it only been that long? He's tired. He's hungry. He finally collapsed when we were hiding from the Growlithe. He can't take much more of this, and neither can I."
"But. . .don't you need them to give Pikachu a break?"
My plan worked. He turned to face me and even took a step forward. Now if I could just keep him here until Misty got back. . .
"Brock, that's six other lives to worry about," Ash explained. "Do you know how hard it is to sleep with police dogs sniffing you out every time you close your eyes? There's no food and no shelter anywhere and I won't put my Pokémon through that. Pikachu, he. . .he made me promise to keep him, but if he gets any worse. . ." his voice cracked and he stopped, staring at Pikachu's ears with his eyes unfocused.
Another owl hooted and Ash lost his confidence. He probably didn't want to stay in one place for too long. I didn't blame him.
"Are you sure Misty isn't around?" Ash asked suddenly. "I really, really need to talk to her."
"About what?"
Now it was his turn to hesitate. "It's about. . .about important stuff. . ."
"Do you want me to tell her something for you?" I offered.
"No!" he answered a little too quickly. "Just. . .just don't tell her anything. Don't even tell her I came."
"Why?"
"Just don't."
He turned to go, but paused, then looked back. "Brock?" he asked timidly.
"What?"
"Am I really wanted that badly?"
I sighed. "The price on your capture is enough to buy me a Breeding Center," I said flatly. Ash frowned, and the effect it had on his face made him look. . .spooky.
"Then. . .then why aren't you turning me in?"
I didn't quite know how to answer that for a few minutes, but Ash waited.
"Ash, I. . .you're my best friend, Ash," I began shakily. "You're like family. I know it's technically illegal to let you go, but. . .I can't turn you in. I just can't."
"Do you think I'm innocent, then?" he asked hopefully. I sighed heavily.
"Ash, all the evidence is against you"—his face fell—"and I really don't know. I just—I don't know."
"Okay. . ." I hated the hurt look on his face, but what was I supposed to say? I couldn't lie to him; he was my best friend—or was. So all I could do was watch as he drifted out of the firelight and into the dark background of the trees, Pikachu barely stirring in his arms.
:: Boardroom. . .
The room was quiet as Brock finished his story. Ash stared at his friend with eyes unfocused, remembering. He didn't know Brock had remembered his visit that strongly. All Ash really recalled was that the police had opened fire on him for the first time and, once he'd escaped, he'd realized that he had to give his Pokémon to someone he could trust. Talking to Brock again hadn't quite been what he'd expected, and he never did get a chance to speak with Misty again, but at least he'd put his small friends in safe hands.
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you before, Ash," Brock said suddenly. Ash's eyes snapped back into focus. "I wish I'd have known better, but Misty was out, and there were cops on every road we saw, and—"
"No speaking to the accused!" Koga suddenly shouted, lurching to his feet. A few people in the stands agreed, and the room became filled with rustles and murmurs once again. Ash cleared his throat and stepped in front of Nealyn, ignoring the doctor's warning looks, as Pikachu stepped tentatively out of his hood to perch silently on his left shoulder. The din died down immediately as everyone turned to see what the criminal before them had to say.
"I don't understand," said Ash simply. "Why was I accused, exactly? If there were no eye-witnesses and my alibi was secure, how was I chosen as the criminal?"
"He has a point, you know," said Professor Oak, nibbling on a pen cap as he watched the pair by the door. "A point that several of his past acquaintances have brought up before."
Despite the fact that he was in a courtroom filled with people who could have him executed with one word, despite the fact that he was on trial for his life, Ash had to resist smiling as he realized that the light pastel purple of Oaks Master robes clashed horribly with the scientist's naturally dark skin. Oak noticed his gaze and took the cap out of his mouth to point at Ash, saying loudly, "Now don't you go on about this awful color, too. The Waterflower Sisters are in charge of our uniforms, and they absolutely insist that I wear this robe because it happens to match Wisdom's natural scale color—"
"Enough, Sam," ordered Drake sternly, but the corners of mouth visible from behind his hand were pulled up in a smile as he pretended that he had to cough. Apparently the professor's robes were a common satire in the LEAGUE. Oak just scowled and resumed chewing on his pen cap, arms folded neatly across his light purple chest.
"So," Drake said, meeting Ash's eyes. "You believe you were unjustly accused. I agree. But the damage has been done, and all the evidence clearly points to you now—"
"And exactly who gathered this 'evidence'?" Ash's normally warm chocolate eyes were cold as he watched the Board leader's response.
"Officer Jenny of Goldenrod," said Drake calmly. "She's sitting right here. Jennifer, would you like to say something?"
The former officer was seated between Oak and Brock, but both were too preoccupied with Ash's sudden hardness that neither acknowledged her when she spoke.
"You were right when you voted that you were unjustly accused," Jenny said evenly. "Even I admit that we didn't yet have enough evidence to hold you in custody when the arrest was first issued."
"Then why did you?" asked Ash sharply. He had been pondering these things for years, and still had come up with nothing that he may have done to make himself a suspect in the first place.
"We received a heads-up from someone—"
Ash's eyes narrowed sharply. "Who?"
Jenny shrugged. "A citizen, they said. But you have to understand, Ketchum, that—"
"From what I understand, the only evidence you've ever had of me doing anything are two witnesses reporting that I was out that night and the bodies, of which you say were mutilated by only Pokémon that I owned. However, you have not proven that they were mine, and you have not proven that the blood seen on my jacket was Ritchie's—"
"We know it wasn't Ritchie's," Jenny said suddenly. "We identified it as that of a Murkrow, whose body was found after you disappeared—"
"Which only ties into my alibi—" said Ash, his brows furrowed.
"Yes," said Jenny, irritated by the interruption, "it would fit perfectly if not for the fact that traces of Ritchie and his Pokémon were found in it."
The room was silent. Ash stared at her, ordering himself not to let his surprise show. They never told us that, he told Pikachu. What now?
Let Misty say something, Pikachu advised.
Misty? Ash was confused. This was all happening too fast. But Misty's not here—
Pikachu alerted him to the sound of brisk footsteps in the hall a split-second before the door burst open. Ash and Nealyn turned to see Misty stride into the room, coming to rest between the two. Drake immediately stood to acknowledge her presence, saying, "Good evening, Agent Misteara. I—we—didn't expect to see you up and about so soon." He sat again. Misty's only response was to fold her arms and glare. To Ash, the only visible sign that she had ever been to a hospital and hadn't been up and about for the past week was a tightly wound strip bandage binding a wound on her left arm, beginning at her wrist and disappearing into her crystal blue cloak sleeve.
"Misty," Drake nodded when she didn't make a move to speak. "I take it that you know our present case. Do you have anything to add?" Ash might have been imagining things, but he thought she looked extremely mad about something.
"Of course I have something to add," she fumed. "Ash risked his own life to save mine, and instead of asking if he'd like to join you ask yourselves if you can kill him now or later!"
"Misty," said Drake carefully, "Ketchum is a wanted criminal—"
"Wanted by who?" she demanded.
Drake hesitated. "Well, Johto first issued the arrest—"
"How can you even issue and arrest without evidence and a court case?" she said angrily. "Ash should be free if only because no one has ever thought to prove him guilty."
Drake studied Misty carefully for a moment, then said quietly, "Misty, this is Ash's court case. Today w e are trying to decide if the accused is guilty of murder in the first degree, among other charges, or not."
"If this is a courtroom then where is Ash's lawyer?" When Drake took a moment to reply, Misty seized the chance to continue. "I see," she said slowly. "Well Drake, Oh-Fair-and-Honest-Leader, it looks as if this case was settled six years ago. Without a defendant, how is Ash expected to stand a chance? It's not like he's been studying law for the past six years!"
"She has a point," Oak pointed out again. "I suggest we set down terms for Asheron to abide by, sort of like probation, and then excuse his past offenses—"
"Are you mad?" Koga exclaimed suddenly, staring in shock at the professor. "You want us to just let a murderer run free?"
"We have all become murderers, Koga," Drake said loudly, shooting a look at Nealyn. "We've all killed on our missions, intentional or no. And you're right, Ketchum. The police never had enough evidence to convict you, and, well. . .from everything I've ever heard about your case, I've always thought it sounded a bit fishy. Too much like a set-up, although as to who and why, we'll probably never know. However," he turned to Misty, "You need supporters to back your statement—"
"Drake, half that table would support him!"
Drake looked around. "Well?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. "Who here is in favor of releasing Asheron Ketchum under strict regulations?"
Ash and Pikachu watched in utter astonishment as almost the entire table stood, accompanied by most of the Cabinet and a few of the Shelf. Slowly, more and more people stood, until the only ones remaining in their seats were those Ash either didn't recognize or had never seen before. He was genuinely surprised at how many people were openly supporting him. He—he had thought that no one believed him.
Apparently, Drake was a bit caught off guard as well, as he stared about him in wonderment. "Well," the leader said after a pause. Over half the room was standing. Koga, the only Board member still in his seat with the exception of Drake, was just as surprised as Ash. Even Gary was standing, although he wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. Ash held back a smile when he saw Joy's hand planted firmly on his shoulder as she winked at Oak from across the table. The professor smiled smugly.
Ash glanced back at Nealyn and Misty. Misty still had her arms folded as she stared at Drake with an eyebrow arched, but Nealyn smiled widely at the look on Ash's face and winked. Ash, however, was still in shock. He had been forced to avoid all human contact for the past six years and now, surrounded by the people who had exiled him, he discovered that they want him back? It was a lot to digest in one evening.
"Well," Drake repeated. He looked thoroughly surprised. "Well. Anyone care to share their thoughts?"
"Ash helped me put out an enormous fire in the Orange Islands once," Aidon said from his seat beside James. "He helped save hundreds of lives. Why would he deliberately take more?"
"He helped me when everyone else thought I was hopeless," said an older version of Shingo.
"Yeah, he helped me too!"
"And me too!"
"He killed Blaine!" Koga shouted. "He blew up half of Cinnabar! And you're just going to let him go?"
Drake had to stand and shout to make himself heard over the verbal fight that ensued. Finally, he was able to announce, "It's settled!" People calmed down to listen. "Asheron will not go to the Hold or be executed, rather he will be under the close supervision of any authority members in the compound. However," he said loudly, glaring at a few grumbling Jury members, "Asheron has not been fully acquitted, and he is not permitted to leave the compound without my approval. He will receive a roommate for the duration of his probation period and must follow all rules at all times. If so much as one is broken, his freedom will be withdrawn and he will go immediately to the Hold. Do I make myself clear?" He was looking hard at Ash as he finished, and Ash nodded slowly, hardly daring to believe it. "Marvelous."
The room was in a state of stupefied silence for the next few minutes, and Drake seized the quiet time to shuffle through a few papers, pausing briefly to write something on one.
"Asheron," he said without looking up, "You are to report back to me shortly. You will be notified. Until then your activities will be closely monitored, so be wary of your actions. Misteara or Nealyn can show you around the compound, as you won't be leaving for a while, and I'll expect you to find a roommate by lights-out. The Board meeting is now adjourned. Everyone is dismissed."
"But—but—"
"I said you're dismissed, Koga."
Gradually, people stood to leave, and the room was soon filled with voices as everyone discussed the unexpected twist of their latest case. Ash continued to stand there in shock, oblivious to Pikachu's paw prodding his shoulder as the mouse requested to leave.
Someone grabbed his arm and he turned to see Nealyn's smiling face. Misty was standing just behind the doctor, smiling over Ash's shoulder at Brock, who was attempting to wade his way through the crowd in their general direction.
"Come on, Ash," the doctor said kindly, tugging him toward the door. "You don't want to be between these people and the door when they realize they've missed dinner. Besides, we've got a lot to show you. What would you like to see first?"
"Um, I—you. . .they let me go." He was at a loss for words. He was free. After six years, he was finally free. The feeling wasn't new to him, he had been free the first thirteen years of his life, but it was…nice. Extremely nice. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulder. Then he realized that Pikachu had hopped into Misty's arms and she was stroking his soft fur lightly. Nealyn grinned at the absolutely dumbfounded expression he was still wearing as he watched them, unconsciously enjoying the feel of Misty's hands rubbing his mind-Partner's fur.
"I understand completely. Come on, I bet you're anxious to see your Pokémon."
"My Pokémon?" echoed Ash dumbly, his voice squeaking slightly.
"Of course," Nealyn chuckled. "You didn't think Brock gave them away all those years ago, did you?"
"Well I—I um. . .I dunno." He couldn't understand why Nealyn wouldn't stop laughing. Brock finally reached them then, and Nealyn towed Ash out of the room and down the hall a ways, Misty and Brock close behind. Brock grinned sheepishly under Ash's gaze when they stopped, and Misty smiled lightly, content just to watch for the time being.
"So, I uh," Brock tried to begin, "I fixed your stuff up for you."
"Yeah, thanks. . ."
Suddenly Brock lurched forward and enveloped Ash in a huge bear hug. Ash was a bit stunned by the sudden human contact, but also a bit. . .relieved. Actually, more than a bit relieved. He was downright happy. He finally had his brother back. Not caring how he looked to anyone else, Ash tentatively returned Brock's gesture.
"I really missed you, Ash," Brock said softly, pulling away. Ash just nodded. Then Brock backed away a bit to reveal Misty, who was grinning widely.
"Look, Ash, I know we kind of spoke a bit before, but. . .can I get a big friend-hug, too?" she asked, smiling sweetly. Ash nodded, a smile forming. It was probably the first time he had really smiled in years.
"Well," Nealyn said loudly, clapping his hands together and grinning at the pair. Misty backed away then, and Ash wondered why it was suddenly so cold without her in his arms. "Shall we go to dinner, then?" Nealyn continued, unaware of Ash's sudden conflicting emotions. Ash smiled a bit and nodded, and the trio, reunited for the first time in over half a decade, marched off to the cafeteria.
:: III ::
Part 3 :: The Conference
By Seabeast
WARNING: This is not your average Pokémon fic. So consider yourself officially Warned. Yeah. I mean it. You've been Warned. Really, you have. o.O
DISCLAIMER: As much as I may wish it weren't so, I shall never own Pokémon. If you think that one day I may, please contact me and we may scheme to our little hearts content. . .>:)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm quite proud of this chapter, yes-in-deedy. Sorry, I know I said I would have some action, but, well. . .we shall discuss this later. . .no, I am NOT turning into my mother! I will never say that sentence again! AAAHHH!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's later. Sorry if that sounds weird, but I'm writing these notes in succession. Anywho, I know I said I said I would have action, but, well. . .hey, I blew up a mall! HAH! Um, well, this was more a political chapter. . .bleh. I hate politics. Okay, well, I promise there will be action in the next part, okay? So what'd you think? Don't sit there talking to yourself! REVIEW! That's what it's there for! (for all you Pokémon Tower fans, my e-mail is jadensilver@hotmail.com Don't be shy, I LOVE e-mail buddies!)
AUTHOR'S NOTE II: Did anyone notice that in AL1 I used IIII for the Roman Numeral IV? I hope not. . .I was really tired. . .(sweatdrop) Anywho, just wanted to clear a few things up. First off, this fic is NOT based on Acey's 'Pokémon Master', okay? DON'T FLAME ME FOR IT! I actually formed the idea while reading Legacy's 'Codename: ASHURA', which he needs to FINISH ALREADY! (If he's not here at the Tower, go to FanFiction.net and READ HIS WORK! It's good.) Ahem. Yes yes. Anywho, the characters. . .Glayr and Cindyr are based entirely upon Fred and George Weasley from those wonderful Harry Potter books—HEY! J.K. needs to write more, too! What IS it with these people and not finishing what they started? And WHY are all of you staring at me like that? I'll finish! Really, I will!
LAST AUTHOR'S NOTE, I PROMISE: Sorry for dragging on like this, but I'd like to thank a few people. First of all, a huge thank you for all my reviewers, good and bad. I honestly don't understand flames. All they do is add more reviews to the count so that others read. So flame away, I say! (If you don't know what the dell I'm talking about, go to FF.Net. That's all I'm saying.) If you don't like Pokémon, DON'T READ IT! AHEM. I'd like to give a MASSIVE tiny pink Igglyfluff to Ronald J. Whalen for all of his wonderful reviews on most of my stories. THANK YOU! Yes, and give some more Igglyfluffs out to Katie (wordpainter) for helping me write this and to Psionic1 for writing me in general and for helping me with a report (if I haven't asked yet, I will soon), and to Kristen (MistyMew) too! Oh, and to Ewan McGregor! And to Erin! And Caitlin! You know what? EVERYONE gets in Igglyfluff! Why? BECAUSE I CAN!!! BWAHA!! Uh, I think I'll go start OYL4 now. . .
:: Seabeast
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