Part One, Chapter One

Starring: Janet Harris, Sand-Cloud Pluff, Gelby Chu



'This is the last call for flight one hundred and fifty-one to Aspen. Last call for flight one hundred and fifty-one to Aspen. Departing in five minutes.'

'You don't understand, I have to get on that flight!' I insisted.

'I'm sorry, but I can't allow you to travel with all those pokémon until they've been thoroughly checked and immunised by a veterinarian,' the woman behind the desk told me placidly.

'But my pokémon are perfectly fine!' I said desperately. 'They always get healed at Pokémon Centres!'

'I'm sorry, but the rules say they need to be checked and immunised,' said the woman.

I moaned.

'Listen . . .' Sand-Cloud, the yellow yoshi standing beside me, folded her arms. 'We've got to get to Aspen to compete in the Master Tournament.'

'I don't care what you've got to get there for,' said the woman. 'You ain't taking any pokémon with you!'

'Oh, so Janet's just gonna compete in the tournament without pokémon is she?' Sand-Cloud asked sarcastically.

'I don't see what the problem is,' I said. 'They're all staying in their pokéballs-'

'Oh, well what about that one?' the woman said, gesturing to the pikachu on my shoulders. Sand-Cloud and I glanced at Gelby, our pikachu friend.

Gelby let out an irritated sigh. 'I'm not a pokémon.'

As strange as that may have sounded, it was true. Gelby may well have been a pikachu, but she was a special species of pikachu that, well, meant that she wasn't a pokémon. Hang on, let me explain.

Here in Mildew, there's a small town located on the outskirts of the Reflexion Kingdom (my home kingdom) called Pallet Town. No, not the Pallet Town of Kanto; it was simply named after it. In the Mildewan Pallet Town, a very unusual variety of pokémon existed. They were all gifted with human speech, did not evolve (so a pikachu was a different species to a raichu, for example), could not use pokémon attacks, and were not able to be kept in pokéballs. Of course, they were not permitted to be used in pokémon battles, and so really, when it came down to it, they weren't pokémon at all. All that they had in common with "real" pokémon was that they looked the same.

'Oh,' said the woman, realising. 'Right.' Then she shook her head. 'But it doesn't matter whether they're in their pokéballs or not, it's against all the laws of both Mildew and Aspen to take pokémon that haven't been immunised into another continent. I'm sorry.'

'The gates to flight one hundred and fifty-one to Aspen are now closed. Repeat, the gates to flight one hundred and fifty-one to Aspen are now closed.'

'Oh terrific,' I sighed. Now what? Here I was, all geared up for competing in the Master Tournament in Aspen, and I'd missed my flight because my perfectly health pokémon hadn't had some darn shots! I'd trained for months for this competition! I'd only been a pokémon master for a little over a year, and I'd never competed in any masters-only tournaments before. This would have been my chance to see just how good a trainer I really was . . . and now it was over before it had begun.

'Thanks a lot,' muttered Sand-Cloud, shaking her head. 'Come on Janet, let's get out of here.'

With another sigh, I picked up my backpack containing my twenty-nine pokémon and slung it over my shoulder, turning around and heading away. We left the huge building of the Mushroom Airport and began trudging down the street. I couldn't believe it was all over . . ..

As we walked along in silence, all I could think about was the Master Tournament. I was so lost in my thoughts of the tragedy that I didn't notice the commotion right away . . ..

'Stop that beedrill!'

I looked up, shocked. A man in his mid thirties or so ran past me, arms outstretched. Or at least, he was trying to run . . . he was so puffed out that he could hardly move. He stopped, bending over and taking in a series of deep breaths.

'Um . . . are you OK?' I said uncertainly, stepping towards him.

'Please!' he turned to me desperately. 'You've gotta stop that beedrill!' He gestured up to the sky, where in the distance I could see a beedrill soaring away. 'It's got my HM two, it's very valuable to me, I need you to get it back!'

'HM two?' I asked, blinking. I had no idea what that was, but whatever it was, the man certainly seemed upset about losing it. 'Don't worry, I'll get it back for you!' I reached into my backpack and pulled out one of my pokéballs. 'Potow, I choose you!'

I tossed the pokéball into the air. It opened with a flash of light, and my trusty old pidgeot appeared. I smiled.

'Potow, I need you to chase after that beedrill and get back the uh . . . thing that it's got!' I said.

'Pidgeot!' nodded Potow. It flapped its huge rust-coloured wings and shot off into the distance.

'It's OK, Potow will get it back for you,' I smiled. 'It's one of the most reliable pokémon I've got.'

'That pidgeot's one of the fastest pokémon I've ever seen,' said Gelby reassuringly. 'It'll get back your HM.'

I wanted to ask her what a exactly an HM was, but I figured it probably wasn't the best time. I peered off into the distance, where I could just make out Potow slapping at the beedrill with its Wing Attack.

'Yeah, go Potow!' I cheered, as the beedrill dropped through the air like a pin, defeated. Potow swooped down, grabbed the beedrill in its talons, and turned back to us. It propelled itself towards us with its Quick Attack, appearing above me almost instantaneously. It lowered itself to the ground, holding the injured beedrill on the ground with its sharp claws.

'Beedrill . . .' said the pokémon weakly, looking up at Potow in fear of what the pidgeot might do to it.

'Pidgeo!' said Potow triumphantly.

'Great work, Potow!' I said proudly, patting my pokémon on its regal golden head feathers.

'Pidgeooo . . .' cooed Potow, smiling. It bent down to the beedrill and pulled something out of the pokémon's claws with its beak. It was a strange metal object, looking somewhat like a helmet, only with a screen and buttons on the side of it.

'Thank you so much, Pidgeot!' said the man, as Potow handed the object to him. 'I'm forever in your debt!'

'Oh . . . that's OK,' I said.

Just as the man was about to say something else, a voice interrupted.

'Get your claws off my beedrill!'

We all turned, startled. A female trainer of about twenty or so came storming towards us. Hands scrunched into fists, her eyes narrowed into slits, her teeth bared, she certainly didn't look very pleased to see us.

There was something familiar about her . . ..

'I've had about enough of you and your stupid pokémon!' the yelled, stamping her feet as she advanced on me.

'Uh . . . me . . .?' I asked, confused.

'Yes you!' shouted the girl. She held out a pokéball and recalled her pokémon. 'Beedrill, return! Don't think I've forgotten any of the things you've done to me!'

'Um, you must be thinking of someone else . . .' I said.

'Pidgeo . . .' Potow narrowed its eyes and hunched into a battle stance, as if ready to fight the girl.

'Don't try that with me, Janet!' said the girl. I blinked. How did she know my name? 'I know very well you remember me!'

'Kat, what's the problem now?'

I looked up, and saw another trainer, a male of around the same age as this girl, walking towards us casually.

'It's that stupid Team Yellow again!' said the girl. 'Their pidgeot ruined everything, Ace!'

I belatedly realised who the two trainers were. They were old enemies of mine, from the pokémon journey I'd started this time four years ago. Ace and Kat. Great, just what I needed.



~Janet~