Shiloh Lehman was the greatest Pokémon master to ever live.
He knew it in his bones, the same way he knew that pleasure was good and pain was bad. He knew it every time he stepped onto a stadium floor, or went out into the wild to catch something new. He knew it with every scream of adoration from his fans.
Most importantly, he knew it in the way he got what he wanted. When he told the Kanto Defense Board that he was going to travel aboard the first rescue ship to Orre, they hadn't batted an eye.
"Of course, Mr. Lehman!" they said. "We'll get you the presidential suite!"
Amazing how natural it was for people to do what he wanted, as soon as he had something to offer them. They practically begged him to come aboard. If he asked, they probably would've provided him a full film crew for the entire expedition.
It was only natural for a Pokémon master to use the help of their powerful team to save the world. It wouldn't be the first time, and certainly not the last.
He adjusted the heavy jacket on his shoulders, cut from fine yellows and reds, with thin morphofabric stitched into the structure. It didn't just make him absolutely stunning on promotional materials or when he strode into a gym he was about to conquer—it also protected him from Pokémon attacks, or let him rent out a little advertising space to some company or another.
"This is a dark day for Orre, Briar. Look at all those people, all those Pokémon. Someone has to do something about this."
He spoke to his friend, the slightly squatter, rounder man who followed behind him. Briar was even aware enough to move slightly to the side, giving the hovering drone filming this moment a better angle. There it could watch his look of calculated compassion as he stared through the windows at the unwashed masses, struggling their way inside.
"Looks bad out there," his friend said. Briar wasn't nearly as articulate, and sometimes flubbed his lines. But market research suggested that made him more likable. Having someone loyal, yet less capable around made Shiloh seem even more competent by comparison. "It's a good thing you're here to help."
"It is." He turned, staring directly up at the drone. "Nothing will improve just because we want it to. But thanks to the bravery of the Kanto Defense Force, and the generosity of sponsors like Silph Co., the people of Orre will be able to escape this disaster."
"While you fix it?" Briar prompted. So he had read the script since their last conversation. He was improving.
"While we fix it together," he said. He reached dramatically to the side, removing an ultra ball from his belt, and expanding it to full size. He arched his back, as though about to open it—then pressed his fingers together.
The drone stopped recording, zipping onto the backpack on his desk and stowing itself there. Ready for use the next time something dramatic happened.
But just as importantly, keeping away from things the general audience didn't need to hear. Sometimes it was better for people not to know how the sausage was made.
"Heard anything new yet?" he asked, turning his back on the suffering mob and over to the suite. It was finely appointed, though still woefully inadequate compared to his usual standards. These days gyms paid him to come out to battle, and always kept him up in the most lavish hotels.
He rested one hand on the pack, then took it up on his shoulders.
"No," Briar said. He wasn't a quivering lacky. Shiloh wasn't about to discipline him for bad news. They were friends, of a sort. Besides, good help was hard to replace. "But it's bound to be here. Every time something this big happens, it always shows up. We've waited almost a month now—it's probably already on the continent, solving this."
Shiloh tightened the straps, then strode dramatically from the room. He reattached the ultra ball, stowing it away again on his belt. It made for a great dramatic shot, but having Flygon out in the open right now would only make navigating the ship more difficult.
The upper deck was completely deserted so far. Based on the size of that crowd, it wouldn't stay that way for long. But that was fine—he wasn't scheduled to leave on this ship. His mission would take more time than loading a single evacuation vessel.
"I'm not just going to be Kanto's Pokémon champion, Briar. I'm going to be the world's champion."
"You could be already," his friend said. "How many badges are in that jacket, Shiloh?"
Too many. The weight of all the pins pulled him down, and would probably make him sweat like crazy when he stepped into the jungle. But that didn't matter, because they looked so good for the camera whenever he opened the jacket.
"I could be," he agreed. "But no one cares so much about the team you fight with once you have the position. It's about the team you won with." He glanced down at his belt, and the open slot beside five other stowed ultra balls.
"A champion of legend deserves a Pokémon of legend to lead his team. When this is over, I'm going to have it."
His energy vanished as they rounded a bend, reaching the stairs leading downward. He could already smell the desperate refugees, from the sweat and smoke and grime they radiated. It would be a shame if he had to get his jacket dry-cleaned again.
He didn't walk directly for the boarding ramp, or else he'd have to wade through the thickest of those poor refugees. Instead, he descended only one level, then stepped out onto the deck. Only when he was outside did he finally deploy the poké ball he'd been carrying, throwing it high overhead. Flygon appeared in a flash of light, its wings scattering the ash and debris atop the deck. It was a short distance to fly, but at least the dragon could get him past the crowd. After that...
The deck wasn't empty as he might've expected, though. A single soldier stood by the prow, staring off into the distance. He wasn't the only one—a section of the crowd now faced away from the ship, and off into the distance. A little odd for a soldier.
Besides, he recognized the blaziken from the night before. It belonged to the commander of the small group of marines assigned to defend the rescue ship. He had seemed less incompetent before. "Sir? Udar?" He walked past his Pokémon, who only watched expectantly.
Flygon knew he wouldn't request its help without good reason, the same as all his Pokémon. How often did he call them out without a battle? "Is something wrong?"
The soldier turned to face him. His helmet was off under one arm, expression distant and confused. "She was on our ship the whole time. Riding the Thanatos all the way from Kanto."
"Who was?" He stopped beside the railing, then adjusted his jacket. To his satisfaction, several people down there seemed to notice him, pointing. Not as many as he expected, though. Those who weren't fighting to get aboard were distracted with something off in the clouds.
If Shiloh stared, he could almost make out a flicker of motion before it passed into the clouds, with a pidgeot trailing behind it. Nothing worthy of so much attention. "Did something happen here, commander? Anything I should know about? You know I'm the one here to solve this problem. The Kanto Defense Force are just evacuating."
Invoking that particular name finally elicited a reaction from him. The soldier stiffened, turning his back on the railing, and pretending to adjust his helmet. "Right, sir. Champion Shiloh. It seems your help might not be necessary after all."
"That seems strange." Briar appeared just behind them, poké ball in hand. He hadn't released its occupant yet, though. And he probably wouldn't, so close to the railing. There would be hundreds of cameras on this evacuation. Best not to give the public too clear a view of the movie magic. "The Defense Council were begging for our help. There's only one other Pokémon master in the whole world, and everyone knows how hard he is to find."
Commander Udar gestured off into the air behind him. "There was a legendary Pokémon on the Thanatos. I had a friend when I was young, said she saw something like one behind a truck in Vermillion. But this is real. She was right here." He touched up against the railing. "Champion Shiloh, I think Mew will solve this. She has a shaymin traveling with her, most powerful Pokémon I'd ever seen."
His heart caught in his chest. The thrill of capture was there, pulling him onward. I followed you to the end of the world, Mew. Now you can't run any further. He had no need to fake his excitement for the soldier, though the man couldn't possibly guess his reasons. "That's incredible! Could you tell where the Pokémon was going?"
He gestured again, the same direction as he'd been staring. Shiloh probably didn't need to ask. "She asked where she could find the most dangerous place to go, then took off. I didn't know Pokémon could talk."
Shiloh smiled politely back, though his patience was waning rapidly. The press of desperate refugees now moved up the ramp and onto the deck behind them. He heard someone shout his name, and a few sped up.
Even here in Orre there were fans. Couldn't they find less obnoxious things to do than bother him? "Where did you tell it to go?"
"The old stadium at Mt. Battle," Commander Udar said. "That's the most dangerous place in Orre. The entire Orre self-defense force went in, and no one knows what happened. A hundred people and twice as many Pokémon missing."
Briar winced, but Shiloh glared him into silence. He would not spoil his image on this perfect rescue. "Thanks for the information, commander. I'm sure the legendary Pokémon is capable. But I may follow to assist it, just in case."
He snapped his fingers, and Flygon landed just ahead of him with an energetic call. The command was already enough for the Pokémon to know what he meant. "Inform the self-defense council that we will still expect that helicopter on standby, just in case."
Shiloh was not the first to ride off the deck of a ship on his Pokémon's back, dramatically soaring into the air. But he liked to think he would look better doing it than most. The dragon was trained not to fly too fast, that way the drone could keep up with them, and record Shiloh gazing pensively into the horizon.
There was a time when he would've been afraid of the fall. It would be quite embarrassing to die in front of so many hundreds of strangers. But he had flown on a dozen different Pokémon now, and knew exactly how he wanted them trained. He nudged Flygon with his knees, and kept the dragon perfectly on-course.
It called up towards him once, its voice high and questioning.
"There's a mountain this way," he explained, raising his voice a little. For the camera as much as the Pokémon. When they made a documentary about Master Shiloh saving the world, they needed to know how in-tune he was with his team. The fans loved that. "You'll see it. Only one for miles."
Flygon called again, and started to accelerate, but Shiloh pulled gently on its neck. "Hold on, we need to wait for—"
"Could've warned me!" Briar yelled, breathing heavily. He balanced precariously on the back of a vikavolt, eyes wide with a little panic. The vikavolt too seemed to struggle, moving erratically. "You know Meta needs time to get into character!"
"It's doing an excellent job," he shouted back. Without needing him to order it, Flygon pivoted gently towards the other Pokémon, until they flew beside each other. "Keep an eye on the ground? The ONBS broadcasts made it look like the Pokémon there were completely losing it."
"I don't need a broadcast to see that." Briar gestured with one arm, though he kept his other firmly around Meta's neck. Some people just couldn't get used to flying. "Look!"
Shiloh looked, and finally saw.
What he had first taken for ordinary clouds were thick plumes of ash, rising from a distant forest fire. No wonder so many refugees smelled like fire, he was gonna choke on it up here. "Should've brought a water-type. Do you think Zoroark can handle this?"
"Mirage?" Briar glanced down at his belt. There were only two poké balls there, without a single empty one. But his companion wasn't trying to become a Pokémon master. He hadn't completed all eight badges in a single region. "Sorry, that's not how the illusions work. Mirage could make it look like the jungle was healthy, but it would still be burning underneath."
So much for that hero shot. But given the number of angry Pokémon he could see still fighting each other down in the trees, maybe that was for the best. Shiloh wasn't afraid of anything wild Pokémon could throw at him. But he would need all his strength if he wanted to capture a legend.