Chapter 2: Clouded Uncertainty (Outskirt Stand)
"Isn't it ironic?"
Within the darkened office, near the top of the brand-new building known only as Realgam Tower, a Cipher Peon looked up, startled by his master's words from nearby. He wasn't immediately sure what to say. Within the midst of the wide, dark office, he could scarcely see the tall form of the man who had spoken.
"Isn't it?" the man repeated in an even voice.
The young man—only 18 years of age—swallowed and ran a hand back through his spiky white hair. "Er… What's ironic, if I may ask?" he asked uncertainly.
A low chuckle. "The fact that two years after the birth of Team Cipher… two years after we started our plans here in Orre… everyone still believes Team Snagem is the mastermind behind all these plots?"
The young peon attempted a smile. "Oh, that," he said weakly. "Of course, sir…"
A pause followed for several moments. "You… were on Team Snagem before getting transferred to Team Cipher, weren't you?" his master murmured.
"Yes, sir."
"Your name… it was…?"
"Travis, sir."
"How long were you on Team Snagem?"
"Four years."
"And on Team Cipher?"
"Six months now."
His master chuckled again, and turned slowly to face his subordinate. In the pale light that filtered faintly through a nearby window, Travis could see his master's long light-blue hair, and his narrow, eerie blue eyes. A long scar ran vertically across his left eye, which always made Travis wonder why on earth he wasn't blind or left any worse injured than he was. What an injury that must have been…
"I don't wish to seem distrustful, but… you've shown unquestionable loyalty to not only me, but all of Team Cipher's Admins and leaders, have you not?" his master asked.
Travis had no idea why his master was interrogating him all of a sudden; he'd always been completely loyal to him ever since being transferred from Team Snagem. "Of course, sir," he assured.
"Hm… that's good. I was just making sure, is all." His master turned back around, with another quiet laugh. "Loyalty will soon prove to become more valuable within this team than ever before…"
Travis didn't know exactly what he was getting at. "What do you mean, if I may ask, sir?"
No reply.
"Master Nascour?"
"… If I told you that soon—very, very soon—this alliance of Team Cipher and Team Snagem would soon be broken, what would you say?" Nascour asked, his face impassive as he turned around once more. "If I said that soon, that fool Gonzap will be removed from the picture, and Team Cipher will step forward to reap the benefits of their labors… would you be upset? Would you be angry with me for tossing your former team aside as if they were nothing, and taking full control of Orre in its place?"
Travis swallowed. "I…" he began, thinking carefully about his words. "I would be in questioning, sir, about why and how, but I would neither be upset nor angry with you. It is to you that I pledge my full, unquestioning loyalty."
Nascour smiled. "That's good. That's very good. Now listen carefully, for the future of Orre, and the world, will be decided very soon." He paused, and his fingers strayed to the left side of his belt, where a basket-hilted rapier hung on his belt. "Team Snagem—and Gonzap, of course—have served us well. Snagging us many Pokémon to play their part in our Shadow Pokémon experiment. But Gonzap was just a pawn, one I will take great pleasure in disposing of. And soon… my final revenge will be complete…"
"Er…" Travis was now completely perplexed. Little of anything Nascour had just said had made a bit of sense.
As if sensing this, Nascour smiled again. "Forgive me if I have confounded you. All will make sense soon though, I assure you…"
"Ah… yes, sir… But… if I may… What is this final revenge you desire so eagerly?" Travis asked.
As soon as he said it he knew he had stepped out of bounds. He saw Nascour stiffen, and before he knew it the Cipher Executive had unsheathed his rapier and was pointing it at Travis' throat. All in the blink of an eye.
"That is not for your ears to hear," Nascour said calmly, staring into Travis' wide, fearful eyes. "Not that it really matters though. Because when all is said and done, I will be having the last laugh." He stepped back, and sheathed his rapier again as if nothing had happened, much to Travis's relief. "You are dismissed." Travis nodded gratefully, and, with a bow, turned to leave.
"Ah… And… Travis, was it?"
The poor peon froze, turning around again. "Yes, sir?"
"If you cherish your life, speak not a word of what you've heard here just now," Nascour said calmly, and with a false smile. "It would be sad to see your career with Team Snagem and Cipher go to waste if I had to kill you. Slowly and painfully."
With a dry throat, Travis could only nod and leave; shaking with every step he took.
Nascour, however, continued to stand alone in the dark, empty room, eyes closed. Through his mind ran everything he had just related to Travis, and he smiled coldly at the thought of the one he had been thinking of as he had mentioned his "final revenge."
"My mind was made up long ago… I'll take away everything you had, everything that made you who you were… And then make you suffer. I'll make you suffer long and hard, until you beg me to end your life. And then…
"… Then the world will come to fear me as much as I know you fear me…"
The next morning, Wes and his faithful Espeon and Umbreon continued the rest of the journey to their first destination—the Outskirt Stand. Not far from the beautiful city of Phenac, it was a place for travelers to rest, eat, and stock up on supplies. Since Wes had never had a set itinerary in mind when he left Team Snagem, he figured Outskirt Stand would be as good a place as any to begin… whatever it was he was beginning. Wes wasn't entirely sure of that, either.
After fifteen minutes of racing across the desert in playful competition with that Skarmory that had been following him since yesterday, Wes pulled his speeder to a stop next to the old train car that was Outskirt Stand. Once, there had been a railway through here all the way to Pyrite Town, but lack of maintenance and general lack of concern for it had caused it to be torn up and forgotten, leaving only this lone car behind. Since then, it had been converted into a diner and rest stop.
"Good race, my friend," Wes remarked softly to the Skarmory, who sat proudly sharpening its steel wings against the roof of the diner, making a horrible metallic screeching sound as it did so. "You may be a Steel-type, but you're a fast one, all the same."
The owner of the diner suddenly poked his head out of the door, frowning as Wes. He was a largely built, strong-looking man with his brown, spiky hair in a ponytail and a bandanna around his head. "What in the name of Jirachi is that horrible noise?" he questioned.
"That screeching noise, you mean?" asked Wes.
"That's right."
Wes gave a slight smile, motioning to the Skarmory. "You might ask him."
As soon as the man saw the Skarmory, his frown changed to a smile, and he laughed. "So! You've decided to come back around these parts, eh?" he asked the Steel/Flying-type. "Never thought I'd see the day…" He then turned his attention to Wes. "Well, stranger, welcome to the Outskirt Stand. I've never seen you around… Where're you from?"
"Just passing through," Wes replied, cheered by the man's casual and friendly nature. "Name's Wes, and yours?"
"They call me Dusty. I run the Outskirt Stand," the man said. "If there's anything you need, Wes—a meal, supplies, or just a place to spend the night—come on in. I'll be glad to help you. Now if you'll excuse me, I still have a bunch of chores to do, so…"
"Thank you, sir," Wes said gratefully, as Dusty turned and went back in the diner.
As soon as Dusty left, Wes took a moment to examine everything around him. Sand, sand, and more sand, pretty much. A few random assortments of junk serving as a fence of sorts surrounded the diner's sides, but otherwise it was a bit desolate. Sitting next to the walkway leading up to the diner's entrance, however, was a young man wearing rider-type clothing (like a cowboy, in a way) with pink hair, playing a harmonica. The song, compared to the silent desolation of the desert, was oddly cheering to Wes. As soon as he was aware of the fact that Wes was staring, he stopped playing, and stood up.
"Hey there, stranger," the young man greeted. Wes noted that he probably wasn't much older than Wes himself; perhaps 18-years old or so. "So your name's Wes?"
Wes nodded. "Who are you?"
"Name's Willie Regal." Willie wiped at his forehead, and then his eyes lit up. "Hey, I've got an idea. How about a Pokémon battle?"
"A battle?"
"Yeah. A double-battle, of course. 2-on-2. It'll be fun," Willie said. "Unless… unless, of course, you're scared."
Wes wasn't really one to just up and lose his temper or get exasperated easily… but he couldn't resist a challenge, and he wasn't about to let Willie think he was scared. "Very well. You're on."
The two automatically moved to opposite sides of the open area in front of the diner; both knowing exactly what was expected during a battle. "Ready, Wes?" asked Willie. "Go, my Zigzagoon!" He threw two Pokéballs out, and in two flashes of light, a pair of Zigzagoon appeared. They growled, pumping themselves up to fight.
Wes nodded, and took a moment to size up the competition. They weren't that high of a level compared to his Pokémon; this wouldn't be too difficult. Zigzagoon were solid, easy-to-train Pokémon for beginner trainers, but they wouldn't stand up to his Espeon and Umbreon's special abilities. "Espeon, Umbreon, come on out," he called. At their trainer's command, the two evolved forms of Eevee bounded out of Wes's speeder and dashed into the arena, ready to go.
"Nice Pokémon, Wes," Willie said. "Ok, Zigra, use Tackle on Espeon! Zagra, use Growl!"
"Espeon, hit the first Zigzagoon with Confusion. Umbreon, attack the other with Secret Power," ordered Wes. As the first Zigzagoon (Zigra) dashed at Espeon, the Psychic-type countered quickly with a powerful Confusion, taking out a great deal of its HP. Umbreon, in the meantime, hit Zagra with Secret Power, which did moderate damage. Zagra then used Growl, which lowered the attack power of both of Wes's Pokémon.
"Try Sand-Attack this time, Zigra!" called Willie encouragingly. "Zagra, try to attack Espeon with your Tackle!"
Wes smiled a little. This battle was already finished. "Espeon, Umbreon, switch your targets. Wrap it up with Confusion and Bite."
Before either Zigzagoon could even move, Espeon and Umbreon attacked; Espeon with another powerful Confusion, and Umbreon with a crushing Bite. As Wes predicted, both Normal-types fainted as soon as the attacks connected, ending the match.
"Whoa! Amazing…" Willie remarked, astounded at the speed and ferocity of Wes's battle style, and surprised by Wes's cool, collected nature, even in the midst of a battle. He then went to his two Zigzagoon. "Zigra, Zagra, are you two all right?" he asked, petting their furry heads.
The two raccoon-like Pokémon opened their eyes and nodded. "Zig-zagoon…" they said sadly.
"No problem, you two. It's ok. Return." Willie recalled his Pokémon into their Pokéballs. Then he stood up and walked over to Wes. "You're good, Wes. You totally stomped us flat. How'd you get so strong?"
Wes shrugged. He had never really thought he was that strong, but he supposed his Pokémon were a lot more skilled than most. "Oh, I don't know… I've had these two since they were Eevees." Wes scratched both of his Pokémon behind the ears, and they purred happily. "Nice match, by the way."
"No problem, pal."
Wes recalled Espeon and Umbreon into their Pokéballs for a break, and decided to go inside the diner for a good breakfast. He turned around, and stopped short at the sight of a truck parked there. "Was that always there?" he asked Willie, who was just about to put his harmonica to his lips again.
Willie frowned, peering at the truck. "No… I don't think so. I guess it showed up while we were battling, and we didn't notice."
Wes shrugged, and headed towards the diner walkway as Willie started up his song again. Purposefully, he passed by the back of the truck just to get a closer look, and looked into the back. To his surprise, there was a sack in there.
And it was moving.
Wes stepped closer, putting his ear near to hear. Sure enough, he could hear muffled sounds coming from it. Something alive was in there, no doubt about it. After a bit of doubt, he slowly reached out to touch it, and maybe see what was inside. He poked at the side a little, and it wiggled. From the whole shape of the bag, it looked like a person was within it. A kidnapping, most likely.
Wes didn't want to be too worried; one rule he had learned well was not to get involved in things that didn't concern you (although whether or not he lived up to this rule remained questionable). But he couldn't help himself putting one hand on the side of the bag to reassure the person inside, whispering a few words of comfort. As soon as he did, however… he froze. A strange feeling had just tingled up his arm and down his spine as soon as he touched the person… Something that reminded him of…
"Wes!" Willie suddenly hissed, stopping his song mid-note when he heard the door of the diner open up.
At his friend's warning, Wes leaped backwards from the truck, and turned his head to see two men—one with blond hair and one with green hair—exit the diner and walk over to the truck. The man with blond hair glowered at Wes. "What're you looking at, pal?" he snarled.
Wes frowned. These two were Team Snagem, no doubt about it. The two had diamond-shaped silver pins on their jacket necks with the letters "TS" upon them, identifying them as Team Snagem members (Wes had gotten rid of his long before taking his leave of Team Snagem). Discreetly, he hid his left arm behind him as best as he could, trying not to draw attention to the Snag Machine there. He had put it on that morning, and it was more than just a little noticeable. Wes didn't know how many people knew about his theft of the Snag Machine, but he wasn't about to take any chances. "I certainly wouldn't be looking at you," he retorted coldly. "Now move along."
Both of the men looked surprised at Wes's attitude. Intimidated, they wordlessly continued on to the truck, and got in. Wes continued to watch them as they drove off, his eyes still on the sack until it disappeared into the distance.
"That was close, pal," Willie remarked, coming up alongside Wes to watch the truck vanish over the horizon. "Glad they didn't catch you…" He trailed off at the look on Wes's face. The teen had a glazed, distant look in his eyes, and his expression was something akin to pain. "Hey Wes… you ok? What happened?"
No answer.
"Um… Wes?" Willie nudged him a little to get his attention, and Wes snapped back to reality.
"Hm? Oh… Nothing. I'm all right." With one last glance back to where the truck had gone, Wes turned to go in the diner again. "Thanks for the warning, Willie."
"No problem. Whenever you need a hand, you know who to call."
But as Wes disappeared into the diner, Willie couldn't help noticing how pale he had suddenly gotten…
Gunshots, exploding around him…
Wes had never felt as frightened as he did just then…
"Hurry up! We can't stay here long! Kill her like the boss said, and get out!" The orders of the Snagem member over him snapped him back to attention, and he barreled through the house to the stairs to the second floor. Praying that no one would shoot him by accident…
Screams. He heard yells and screams all around him… Before Wes could continue upstairs, he heard another gunshot, and a body thudded into him. He turned… and froze for an instant.
The woman… Her beautiful face, frozen forever in an expression of horror and fright…
Wes knew he would never be able to get it out of his dreams, as long as he lived…
Within the smothering, hot burlap sack she had been stuffed into, Rui was frightened out of her mind.
She couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't talk, and could barely breathe. Her arms were tied at a painful angle behind her, and her legs were tied just as tightly together as well. Tears spilled painfully from her eyes. These men were of Team Snagem, she knew it. Why her? Why had they decided to kidnap her? Now she wished she had never gone on this journey alone. She would never see her grandparents now, or her father, or anyone else she knew. All Rui could hear now was the roar of the truck, and the beating of her frightened heart.
After Mew knew how long, the truck finally came to a stop, and she heard the two men get out. Rui tried to scream, to yell for help, but all she could make was a muffled "mmfph" sound. She began to cry again, despite the fact that she was already having a very hard time breathing from the heat and sack. What did it matter anyway; she was good as dead already…
Suddenly… out of the darkness…
A song, played on a harmonica…
And she felt someone's hand touch her shoulder gently, through the sack…
"It's ok…" she heard him say. "Don't lose hope yet…"
A strange feeling went through her sharply, and she gasped into her gag. What was that feeling? It seemed… like something she should know. A light, filtering through thick, dark clouds…
She felt him jerk his hand away, but suddenly, it didn't even matter anymore.
Notes: I use the term Team Cipher heavily in my fanfics, though I know in game they never refer to the organization as "Team" Cipher. This is a personal choice.
Travis McKenzie is my own original character. Please do not use him without permission, or derive ideas from him for use in your own characters. On a similar note, Nascour's appearance and characterization is completely original to my fanfics; please do not use similar ideas for your own rendition of Nascour without permission.