This story was co-developed by Titan127 and beta read by ShonnaRose.
[3-1] Ship Without Captain
The castle still grieved, but now it grappled with another novel feeling. Uncertainty.
Saber dragged his hands along the cold walls. They couldn't defend anyone. If he so pleased, he could reel back his fist and, mustering all his energy, punch clean through the battle-hardened stone. Without the standing guard of a Champion, the walls were growing thin.
With his first curling at his side, he stopped short. The urge simmered in his mind a second too long, and he felt himself wind up to unleash his exceptional strength. He was positive he would have let his fist fly had his sudden halt not attracted his escort's eye.
The International Police agent stood at attention at the edge of view. Each day this week had yielded a new one, a rotating guard to destroy the myth of his privacy. This one was a young-ish man—somewhere around Saber's age, despite being employed by the League's highest order of law enforcement—who hid a focused gaze behind a forest of bangs.
"Is something concerning, sir?" he asked, straight-faced but nonetheless confused.
Saber's gaze marched through the wall's dull topography. His fingers uncurled. "Absolutely nothing."
"Remember that you planned to attend the Audience today."
"I haven't forgotten," Saber shot back, though the man was unfazed. He raised the Pokétch on his wrist. "If I wanted a reminder, I'd use an alarm clock. Or a Pokémon with Future Sight."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I advise you on the League's orders," he said.
Yes, he was well aware. His grand search for the wanted couldn't begin until he broke free of the chains that the League had bound him with. It was Kris that needed the watchful eye; he had far more important business to attend to.
They came upon a sliding door, an uncanny sheet of metal jutting from the stone wall. After scanning his identification, it hissed open, and Saber leapt forward through time.
Though the Sinnoh League was an ancient relic, it was still awarded the luxuries of the future. The training hall was a testament to that, a metal imperfection embedded deep into the monument. It rang beneath his feet until he stopped at the center of the battlefield.
"Training, sir?"
A crack of his neck, a roll of his shoulder, and a tip of his chin gave the man his answer. The guard took a safe position behind the thick glass paneling of the training hall's spectator box. Saber unleashed himself upon the sleeping castle.
An army of beasts deployed from his stock of twelve capsules. A general should be empowered by the arrival of reinforcements, but Saber couldn't shake the circumstances that caused his forces to double.
Noivern. Gligar. Yanmega. Salamence. Archeops. Dragonite.
One formation faced another. Father faced son.
Aerodactyl. Gyarados. Flygon. Dragonite. Dragonite. Dragonite.
Saber strolled to the end of the line, where two great horned beasts silently discussed the future. Their antennae twirled together, and their horns poised to strike, but it wasn't an aggressive display—it was their familial bond. Saber looked to the one he called his own, then to the one he wished he didn't have to.
He swallowed a stronger reaction in his throat and let only a steady voice through the filter. "Everyone, locate a partner!"
As the creatures shook the floor to take new positions, a ghost of a smile appeared on Saber's face. He'd been granted password access to the accounts of his father and mother, ordered to transfer all Pokemon to his own within a strict six weeks, as the Pokemon League took an ironclad stance on any one person having access to more than six active capsules at a time. However, rather than transfer immediately, Saber had taken to using the last days of his father's account, because while such a large party was difficult to train, he had a rare opportunity to offer these Pokemon enrichment beyond the limits of most Trainers. His elation dropped immediately, because he didn't want his smile to celebrate something it shouldn't.
Saber paced to survey his units. Each pair occupied a vacant battlefield, and Saber opted to keep the energy fields down for better observation. Without further fanfare, they began.
Gligar against Flygon.
They clashed claw to pincer, tail to stinger, and his father's Pokémon wasted no time in using its longer reach to its advantage. It had long since learned that the Eviolite around the smaller Pokémon neck nearly negated its weaker body. When Gligar's stinger flashed past its head, Flygon wrapped its tail around one of its legs and used the grip to fling it across the floor. Gligar speared its stinger into the metal to stop itself and stood like a scarecrow. Waiting. Watching.
Flygon took the bait. It was too used to playing revenge, where strategy faded and savagery reigned supreme. It took off and threw its claw at its opponent, only for it to dissipate into thin air. Saber shook his head. Unbeknownst to Flygon, its opponent had used Double Team and swung around to attach to Flygon's backside. The larger Pokémon's wings gave out when the Poison Tail sunk into its neck, and it dropped to the metal with a resounding clang. After dressing Flygon with an antidote, he crossed his arms.
"We need to focus on your approach strategies," said Saber. He clapped his hands. "Next!"
Noivern against Gyarados.
This was the only match he personally fixed, as he wanted to study the Type interaction. He'd witnessed in previous battles that Gyarados's movement was easily disrupted by a full-power Boomburst. Since it primarily fought in water, he'd assumed it had to do with the sound disrupting the solvent. Noivern's classification as the recently discovered Sound Type suggested otherwise.
Without water to anchor itself, Gyarados coiled into a defensive posture, hesitant for this encounter due to past experience. Intent to maintain its distance, a miniature sun grew inside its gaping maw. Saber's skin flaked under the heat, even from his distance. Gyarados gathered all its energy and prepared to fire its Hyper Beam.
Noivern screeched. The deafening sound washed over its opponent, but it wasn't enough to deter its charge. It did, however, rattle it enough to throw off its aim and prevent it from absorbing its own recoil.
It fired. The force of Gyarados's attack snapped its neck backwards, and the attack flew wide and exploded against the roof of the training hall. It risked everything on a single attack, but now it was too drained to keep itself from harm. When Noivern closed in, bass pounding from the speakers in its ears, Saber put up a hand to stop the match. No reason to harm a Pokémon over a foregone conclusion.
It was a dreadful performance, utterly and truly. Saber couldn't even summarize a course of action, so instead he just said, "Next."
After all matches concluded, Saber rearranged the sets, but not before giving every Pokémon involved some rest. High-level Trainers understood that rest was far more important than the action itself.
Voluntary partners lined up again after the time had elapsed. Gligar and Gyarados. Archeops and the middle sibling. The patriarch and his eldest. Aerodactyl and—
Saber shouted at the two to halt before the match could begin. His Yanmega hovered on its side of the field, clearly excited, or at least curious, at the battle ahead. Saber knew better.
"Yanmega, you're fighting him," said Saber, pointing to the youngest Dragonite sibling used by his father and his intended partner. "Aerodactyl will take one of the siblings."
Dejected, Yanmega switched places as expected. Even in Training, he wouldn't risk a matchup with a known delta weakness—they had a high chance of putting the defender in critical condition.
When everything was clear, he put up a hand. "Let's try this again. Begin!"
The results of the next set were equally grim, and as he watched the bouts collectively race towards frustrating ends, he grew distant. With few points to make, he skipped to the match at the end, knowing it would excite him most. He was eager to gain more insights on the battle he could never win between the titans of the skies. However, in his time surveying the other battles, he'd unfortunately missed the action, and the winner helds the loser down with a claw to the chest.
What was unusual was that his own Dragonite was standing over its father. Saber's partner stared at him expectantly, but he shook his head and moved on. It should have been surprising, but it wasn't.
Another six, another disappointment. The results were varied, perhaps, but no different. Saber's entire team emerged victorious, many well before he called timeout. Then they ran again. And again. Their time passed undisturbed until the forest-haired guard slipped from the control room, merged himself with the metal perimeter, and shuffled along until he found himself at Saber's side.
He continued to observe, not chiming in. It wasn't until after the twentieth round that he finally asked, "These were your father's Pokémon, correct?"
Saber kept his arms crossed and his eyes on the battle. The man must have worked out an answer from his gesture.
"Wasn't he, err… better than you?" Realizing what he said, the agent quickly took a large sidestep.
"Yes," he said. "He and his Pokémon were both unquestionably superior. They're barely fighting at fifty percent of their strength."
"And it's because—"
"Yes," he repeated. He turned his head away just in case his expression turned ugly.
Saber had an exceptional amount of work to do. It was foolish of him to believe for a second that he could inherit his father's Pokémon. He had the training and the knowledge, but he lacked decades of connection with them. There was thunder between himself and his own team—the air came alive between command and execution. With his father's Pokémon, it was still.
If only he could have been prepared to accept them. He could have asked for more duels until he finally understood his father's Pokémon on the battlefield. That ugliness crawled onto his face as he realized that his zero-win record would stand forever. He'd never have a chance to be better.
Saber noticed the bushy guard still standing by and took advantage of his presence to distract himself. "Do you have some request?"
"Err… before you keep on, I was going to tell you that you received a summons." The guard held out a digital device plastered with the International Police's emblem.
"I already made clear that I didn't need a reminder. And it's far too early," said Saber.
"No, sir," he said, continuing past Saber's scowl. "This is a new one. From down the hall."
Saber drew in a breath, letting it linger and rot in his lungs, and then released it into the frigid air of the Sinnoh League. He needed some time to think about how to proceed with his training. Even if he weren't worthy, he couldn't forsake the weapons that had been granted to him. He needed to become one with them.
But he had zero idea where to start.
"Fine," he said. "Take me where I need to go."
Next is Volume 3, Part 2: Disputed Inheritance. See you someday!