Lane left a trail of destruction through the airship. At first that just meant turning aside anyone who stumbled into them by accident—but eventually the alarms started blaring, and the marines poured across the deck.
She couldn't change them all—it might make for a dramatic entry, but it would also leave her weak for whatever defenses Team Plasma left to defend such a valuable airship. Thousands of personnel and just as many tons of steel and computers had to be out here doing something.
She wasn't fighting alone, at least. Aspen had long since grown beyond the need to stay sheltered in the Nursery, if he didn't want to be. His powers weren't as diverse or experienced, but at least he was another set of eyes to watch Lane's back.
Shiloh had certainly changed since trying to capture Lane a few weeks ago—but she was a long way from trusting her yet. If she proved herself during this rescue, things would be different.
They stopped before a set of heavy blast-doors, blocking the path forward. "Through here?"
Shiloh nodded. "It's Mirage. Briar and the kittens will be there too, right?"
We don't know that, Lane thought. She had no power to sense what might be stored away in digital form, even if the conscious minds would be impossible to hide from her. Lane closed her eyes, reaching forward through the intervening space—and her will smacked into a wall of unseen force.
She stumbled backward, catching herself on the railing, and breathing heavily. Her tail lashed through the air, reflecting her growing frustration.
"Welcome aboard the Vainglory," said a voice from the wall. Lane turned, and found a nearby window had transformed, replacing its mock sky and landscape view with a willowy figure in a white lab coat and blue uniform. "I was skeptical about suggestions you would find us here. Ghetsis made correct predictions."
Lane looked at the nearby camera, while turning her mind towards Aspen. "Warn me if you see anyone. They have more marines."
She didn't know how many, of course. Every soldier and Pokémon trainer who wasn't part of the research wasted scientific space. But Plasma couldn't leave the facility completely defenseless. There had to be more than the dozen or so she'd fought so far.
"I don't know you," she said, keeping her voice even. "You run this airship?"
He adjusted his glasses, straightened his silly hair. How did he make it stay up in a ring like that? "My name is Dr. Colress, I supervise all research aboard the Vainglory. We've made some incredible discoveries over our last few years. Are you here to contribute?"
She kept her voice neutral, floating a little closer to the camera. "Doctor. I feel like you've been involved in something without understanding the stakes. I know Team Plasma has been researching legendary Pokémon. Someone above you thinks that because you can trick a few dragons into doing what you want that you're ready to fight the Firstborn."
He shrugged, flipping out an oversized tablet and skimming over it. "Aren't we? Your powers are... remarkable, from what I've seen so far. You could be a breakthrough for human-Pokémon communication. I wonder if any of your victims will be willing to cooperate with research. I won't give them the choice, but I do wonder."
"Mom?" Aspen circled through the air, bobbing up and down with agitation. "Can you feel it? We're moving."
She hadn't. But Lane's hybrid body lacked Pokémon sensitivity. It made communication easier, but how much more negotiation would she really have to do?
"You've taken two young mew, a gardevoir, a zoroark, and a zorua. Give them back, and I'll pass the blame for their capture to whoever ordered it. The same one who orchestrated the attack on Orre under Mt. Battle, I'm guessing."
"How about a trade instead?" he asked. "We've already taken all the genetic profiles we need. You can take those resolved subjects in exchange for that unknown species following behind you. That's a fair trade."
She looked back, and Shiloh slumped against the floor. She didn't have the dexterity to hide from her, so she just sat there, trying not to be seen.
If Shiloh had betrayed her kittens to these monsters, she would've taken the trade. There was some twisted justice in condemning someone to the same fate they inflicted on others. But Shiloh hadn't done that. She was self-absorbed, and her interference had slowed Lane at a critical moment. But she wasn't evil.
Instead, she was the reason Aspen was still free. "Relax, Shiloh. Not today."
The Pokémon responded to her message, lifting back off the ground. "I didn't think you'd really do it," she lied.
"We're not all like you." She turned her back on the screen then. "You're going to regret not accepting my offer, Doctor. You have no idea what a mother will do to protect her children."
"I'm eager to find out," he said. His tone never changed—he wasn't even capable of experiencing other emotions. "I know exactly what strength anger can produce in Pokémon. Ghetsis tells me you are a Pokémon—yet you are also a rational being. I wonder if those Pokémon with you are immune like you are."
Immune to what? She didn't get to ask. The screen went dark, transmission ended.
Something else interrupted her thoughts—a splash of light, emerging from one of her own pockets. Lane stared, dumbfounded, as the blue light poured from one corner directly into the control panel. She felt the charge against her skin, and the subtle energy that was an unmistakable sign of—
"Ghost-type?" she asked, dumbfounded. "How?"
The security interface flashed, and the prompt to "scan her handprint" vanished, replaced with a little rotating figure. "Shiloh, I believe you may be trying to open this door."
Victini floated over to it, hovering in the air just ahead. Finally she nodded. "Y-yeah? Mirage is in there; I think Briar too. If you know who they are."
"We cannot complete your documentary without the crew," the ghost answered. The door hissed, then slowly rolled to one side. Alarms blared, and vapor flooded out of the opening, rolling down the hall.
It all made sense then. Shiloh had used a Rotom as part of her film crew. They left the drone behind in Galea, but the ghost hitched a ride in something else. "Very helpful, Rotom," she said. "Getting through that door would've been a pain." Melting through metal wasn't hard for many species of Pokémon—but doing enough damage to get inside without hurting the kittens who might be on the other side of the door, stored in fragile equipment—that was something else.
About halfway open, the door ground suddenly to a stop, then began to spark. Rotom spoke again, distressed. "I am... n-not alone in these systems. Other Pokémon. Can't... hold this for long."
"Then don't try! Fry that thing and follow us!" Lane charged through the opening, with the others not far behind. As she did so, she felt growing pressure on her mind—a voice in the background, screaming incessantly. It projected panic, confusion, fear.
Shiloh crumpled right out of the air, pressing both paws to her head. Lane caught her in her arms, then gestured with one hand. It took less effort than shielding against the artifact they'd encountered in the ruins. But that one hadn't suppressed her ability to teleport.
Aspen did a little better, remaining airborne, though his leaves wilted a little, and his flight sagged. "That's the worst noise I've ever heard. Why would they leave it on?"
Through the fog, they emerged into a much larger space than she expected. More like a stadium floor than a research laboratory.
As the smoke cleared, Lane saw what was waiting for them across the room—a huge machine, pointed directly at the entrance. The design was utterly unfamiliar, yet she recognized a weapon when she saw one.
Too slow. It was already firing, but the beam became blinding. Yet all the light and heat, that was spillover from its actual effects. This was no laser.
The whispers pressing up against her mind became a scream, a splitting headache demanding her attention. The volume was overwhelming, drowning out her own thoughts. But it would be easy to make the pain stop—all she had to do was fall silent, let those emotions control her, along with the instructions they brought.
Why was she pretending to be human? That was the first thing to go, clothes tumbling to the floor under her paws. Shiloh tumbled too, but she hardly noticed. Those voices were so loud, they demanded her whole attention. What next?
Her kittens, terrified and alone, with soldiers stomping around overhead, blasting her home apart with crude attacks. A world where Pokémon like her fled to the distant wilderness, hiding in hollow trees and caves. The death of her strategy for saving her species, and all the others that time withered.
Lane faced into the wind; her mind buffeted in all directions. This weapon wanted to fill her with anger, just like the mind-virus unleashed on Orre. If she let it, who would save Elisa? Who would save her?
Losing her human form so quickly did one good thing—it made moves much easier. She projected a Light Screen ahead of her, scattering the blast harmlessly around her. But Lane wasn't alone.
Aspen zipped away through the air, circling to the other side of the arena. She bobbed gently up and down there, expression unrecognizable.
"What are you doing, Aspen?" But her daughter didn't answer—through so much psychic static, she couldn't even hear.
Someone groaned from underneath her, and Lane looked down again. Shiloh had her paws pressed against her forehead, rocking back and forth. "Make it stop make it stop make it stop. Why is it so loud?"
Then it did. The light dimmed, though it left the arena spotlights blaring. Shiloh sat up, massaging at her temples. "Arceus, that was awful." Unlike her daughter, the victini was close enough to feel her emotions. Whatever anger the device was trying to blast her with hadn't worked.
Lane dropped to her level, gripping one of her paws. "I think we just got hit with a... version of whatever's happening in Orre. Aspen is in trouble, and the others are too. I need your help."
"I didn't quite believe a Pokémon could achieve transformation with such fidelity. By happy accident, I've stumbled into a way to detect you. Isn't that interesting?"
She looked up, squinting across the room. A large screen at ground level projected Dr. Colress as though he were a trainer at the gym, without the actual risk of being in the line of fire. Lane could trace a mind, but not a transmission. She was no porygon. "This program is under a lot of pressure to make swift progress. The Sages—we could benefit from more subjects. The two mew we have so far are a little undercooked. The two of you should speed our progress considerably."
He tapped something on his tablet, and the ground opened ahead of them. A pair of shapes lifted slowly, until they stood to block the path. Both wore metallic headbands across their faces, secured to their flesh with glue.
One was a familiar zoroark. The other, Lane had only seen in photographs. It wasn't large—not much taller than a human being, with a multijointed insect body and a malformed metallic bulge on its back.
Beside these two, Aspen landed. But there was something different about him, compared to these others. His face had a persistent twitch, and his tail remained in constant motion. Aspen was fighting back.
"Capture them," Colress ordered. "Try not to break them, if you can help it. I need living subjects." The screen retracted.
Shiloh cowered behind her, curling up as small as she could. It made little difference—the three Pokémon charged. There was nothing particularly sophisticated about their strategy. Colress hadn't even stayed to direct their battle like a trainer. "This is the part where we surrender, right?"
Lane's eyes twitched, focusing on a sudden glow from the genesect's back. It stopped nearby, incling its back in their direction. "No!" She wrapped them in a shield, seconds before the Techno Blast cut across the arena.