Chapter Four: Ghosts in the Day

"No! Pierce, let go!" Aaron yelled as the ground-type violently shook the screaming oshawott. His head slung back and forth as the helpless water-type tried in vain to hit Pierce on the maw. The other trainer was forced to recall her starter and hurriedly walked towards the two of them.

"What the hell was that?!" she asked.

"I'm sorry, he didn't know—"

"Well it's your job to make him know!" The trainer looked at the pokéball in her hand. "You could have seriously hurt him like that!" She flung Aaron's winnings onto the ground before storming off. Aaron sighed; she had a point. He had been so excited to use the sandile in a battle that he hadn't considered whether or not he knew proper etiquette. This one was on him.

"Look, Pierce, you can't just go around doing stuff like that…"

"Why not?" the sandile asked, confused as to what he had done wrong.

"You just can't, okay? You could have snapped his neck how hard you were shaking him, and I'm surprised he wasn't covered in blood. You've gotta ease up. When I tell you to use crunch, I don't mean for you to kill the poor bastard..."

"It's not my fault the hairy ones are more fragile," the ground-type retorted.

"No," Aaron agreed, "it isn't. It's my fault for not making sure you knew beforehand. Last thing I need is to lose my trainer's license a week after getting it…" The trainer shook his head, but despite the situation, managed a coarse laugh. "But I'll admit, I'm impressed. That was some pretty fierce shit out there. Just go a bit easier next time, alright? The goal is to make them unable to battle, not unable to breathe." Pierce looked up with a wide, toothy smile, and that's when Aaron noticed something was up. There was blood between a few of his teeth. "Pierce… is that yours?"

"Huh?"

"There's blood in your—"

"Oh, this. Yeah, he knocked a tooth loose," he said, devoid of all concern. Aaron could see the particular tooth in question on his right side. "No worries – another will grow in its place." The sandile closed his mouth for a second and shifted his jaw hard. A light crack sounded before he spit the blood-covered tooth onto the ground.

"That's… disgusting," Aaron said with a laugh.

The sharp, white tooth on the necklace stared back at Aaron, and he smiled before putting it back on his dresser. This wasn't helping in the slightest. He tightly gripped the phone in his hand, and with a heavy sigh, he clicked on the number. Aaron quietly walked through the apartment, careful not to disturb anyone as he stepped out into the cool morning air. After twenty seconds, he assumed he'd need to call back, but then she picked up.

"Hey," Sofia said, "what's going on?"

"Hey Sofia. Listen, I need to ask a really big favor of you." She laughed.

"So nothing out of the ordinary, then. My answer from two years ago is still no." He rolled his eyes. She wouldn't ever let him live that one down.

"Look, I was drunk at the time. And no, it's not that." A knot had formed in his stomach. This was his last chance to back out. He mentally berated himself; this was no time to be a coward. "I… I want to ask you to take Pierce…"

"W-what?" she asked, clearly disturbed by the request. "Isn't that your krookodile? Why would you ask something like that?" she asked. Aaron sat on the porch steps and explained everything to her, and as he went on, her questions decreased and her tone lessened.

"Look, I know you've already got Wynette," he said, referring to her weavile, "but Pierce is an absolute beast on the field. I remember you saying that you needed another striker, and as much as I'd love to keep him around forever… it isn't right. I can't keep doing this to him."

"Aww, that's sweet," Sofia said. "You're a good guy, Aaron. That's a really hard decision to make." He of all people didn't need convincing of that. "But… as you yourself said, I do have a dark-type already. As much as I'd love to help you out here, I have to prioritize our team dynamics."

"Yeah, fair enough, but I've watched Pierce over the years, and I can sure as hell tell you that he'd hold his own. During our gym challenge, he took down half of Cheren's team by himself."

"Really?" she asked. "That is impressive. And already being trained…" She seemed to think it over. Aaron gripped the wooden stair post tightly as he waited. Never before had he simultaneously wanted to hear something yet hating the idea of it all the same. "You know what… this might just work. I'll need to test him – that's only fair – but if he passes… What would you say to a trade?" Aaron wasn't expecting her to say that.

"Uh… why would you want to trade with me? I don't see how that'd help you get a full team…"

"Well if by 'full team,' you mean six, I already have one. The thing is, though, I sort of have the opposite problem with Nora," Sofia said. "You see, she isn't really… able to battle. And I know she feels bad about it, but it's… a difficult issue for the entire team." Aaron paused, but then fully understood what she was talking about. Legally, a trainer had to have partnership with a pokémon for at least a year before being able to use it in any competitive battles. It was a measure to ensure that friends did not loan pokémon to one another to easily run through the gym circuit. Every day that this so-called Nora was on Sofia's team was another day that she was set back in terms of having a competitive team of six. "I… thought about giving her to my younger brother, but he's more worried about getting stoned and using our parents' money. I'd feel much more comfortable with her going to someone like you."

He found himself stumped. Coming home with another pokémon in place of Pierce wasn't what he was expecting to hear. And he might not be able to accommodate such a trade. Battler or not, if Sofia wanted to send him home with a dragonite, then there was no chance in hell he'd be able to feed her. "What species is she?" he asked.

"A typhlosion." Aaron blinked. Had he heard her correctly? While most species considered "starters" had some level of representation around the world, typhlosions were incredibly rare in the North American regions. She hadn't said anything about having one in previous conversations, but then again, all conversations she and Aaron had previously engaged in related to their careers as trainers. If she couldn't battle, then that might explain things. Well, if I take her in, at least I can afford to take care of her…

"Well, if you're willing to give Pierce his shot, then I'm more than willing to take care of Nora." He hated the idea of "replacing" Pierce, but the rational part of his mind told him that it was only fair to accommodate Sofia in the same manner she was helping him. "What's up with her? Does she not like battling or something?" Given the fact that he wasn't likely to challenge the Elite Four, it didn't make much of a difference if she battled or not – though it would be nice given a career in teaching other trainers – but he was definitely curious.

"Well, to be completely honest about it, she can't. Like at all. I've tried just about everything imaginable, but without being able to use fire…"

"Wait," Aaron said, taken back, "she can't make fire?"

"Not even a spark," Sofia replied. "We thought, you know… she'd grow out of it. Late bloomers are a thing, right?" the female trainer said with a sigh. "But it never happened. I had her looked over by several doctors and they've all said that she has some sort of protein deficiency that affects the incendiary glands throughout her body."

"So it's nothing mental? She actually can't make fire?" Aaron asked. "That's rough…"

"Yeah," Sofia agreed, "it is. It's… a difficult topic for the team, and even more so for her." She paused for a moment. Aaron knew firsthand how much these subjects could hurt to talk about. "It's a damn shame, too. She's such a sweet girl… but I have to prioritize the team, and…"

"She's holding you back," Aaron flatly said.

"…Yeah. She is. I hate it, too. I got her when we were over in Johto, and she was a cyndaquil at the time. Scared of her own shadow and all," she said, managing a laugh. "Nora has been with me for two years. I'd love nothing more than to have her on the team, but… I can't make use of a pokémon that can't even use basic attacks of her own type." Aaron shut his eyes, praying that the typhlosion in question would take this well. He imagined the conversation Sofia would have with Nora was about to be far more difficult than the one he'd had with his krookodile. While she was the better trainer between the two, this was definitely a time that Aaron didn't envy her.

"I understand."

"Of course, I'll be back once the break is over. Even if Pierce isn't cut out for it—"

"He will be," Aaron said.

"Right. We'll see. But it might just be best for you to take Nora regardless. I can't use her in the competitive arena. Trying to take on Iris without a full team of six is suicidal... and that's where we're headed eventually."

"Gotcha." Aaron closed his eyes, feeling bad for the poor typhlosion. No doubt there would be some hard feelings about this. "Well, I'd be happy to have her. My team has pretty much settled into a less active lifestyle, so she wouldn't be out of place here."

"That's good." Aaron nodded, though to no one in particular. "Well, we can focus on the trade details after the break. I've got a busy day ahead of me, so I'd better be on my way. Let Pierce know that I'm looking forward to seeing what he's got."

"I will, and… thanks, Sofia. I'm sure you won't be disappointed. I'll talk to you after the break."

"Alright, talk to ya then," she said happily. And with that she hung up. Taking a deep breath, Aaron gave a slight smile before stepping back inside.

He intended to make this last week with Pierce count.

Everyone knew their missions and places. Alexander held the heavy helmet under his arm as the troops quickly assembled into their squads. But despite what they were getting ready to do, there was another underlying anticipation.

For most of them, this would be the first time they had seen an actual sun. Each time he returned from this world of darkness back into his own, Alexander found himself grateful that they still had a very-much alive star in their solar system. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to never know the feeling of natural warmth on one's skin. To see trees or any other creatures aside from the few that had managed to survive on this forsaken planet.

"Is everything alright, sir?" Zossie asked. He nodded without facing her.

"Of course. I was just lost in thought. Is your unit ready?"

"Just about. They're… excited, despite what we are about to do."

"I can tell," Alex said with a laugh. "I would be, too, in their position." The two of them walked towards the weapon rack, where both grabbed identical devices. A perfect, compassionate weapon: the Personnel Deterrent Rifle. It wouldn't kill – that would contradict the goal of Omega – but it would make the target wish they were dead. Like the other weapons made by the Recon Squad, it was a sleek silver and white. It matched the exosuits. "Is something the matter?" he asked. She was still standing behind him.

"No sir, but… I'm just wondering. Why are you and Zadoc coming?" Alex slid the magnum into his holster. Their only lethal.

"Why not?" he replied. "And miss all this fun?" She didn't seem to take the joke, and instead was pressing for an actual answer. "Tell me, do you know the difference between a boss and a leader?"

"I suppose not, Alex. Semantics, I assume?"

"A boss orders people ahead of him," He said while loading an energy canister into the PDR. It hummed to life. A gentle hum. It was soothing despite the fact that it made one's skin feel like it was melting. "But a leader… is the first one into action. People resent a boss. They admire a leader."

It didn't take long for everyone to be at attention. Alexander took his place in front of them. A series of salutes were sent in his direction, and he responded in kind. "Let's run over things one more time," he said. While he was more than confident in their capabilities, this mission needed to go off without a hitch. "Lethals are only a last resort and should not be used unless you're in a life-or-death situation. Fortunately, that shouldn't happen against these guys. Hunters, I'm counting on you to incapacitate most of the troops while we work on crowd control. Demos are there to shut down any vehicles that try to intervene, though I wouldn't be surprised if you guys don't see all that much action. Just be ready to help us out with enemy personnel."

Alexander tapped the computer on his wrist, scrolling through the relevant information until he found what he was looking for. With a flick, the map appeared on everyone's visual display. "Here's the map of the warehouse. Nothing all that special at first glance; the facility was initially focused on storing household electronics prior to shipping. It still serves that purpose, of course, but as you all know, that's no longer the main focus of the building." He highlighted the section of the warehouse where the trucks came and went. A picture appeared on everyone's display: a man directing a forklift as it carried a pallet. The contents were white. "You can thank the Recon Squad for this one. Found out in a few weeks what our military and police couldn't – or wouldn't – find in years." Soliera nodded from the back of the room. While she was no longer fit for operations in her age, he trusted nobody more than those who answered to her in matters of intelligence.

"Of course, there's a reason we're hitting them today of all days. Alonzo Sanchez – one of the most wanted drug lords in my world – has been active throughout Orre and the Latin American regions. We're going to take him down, but if anyone here happens to find him, do not kill him – him or anyone else there. We'll need intel from them. Contacts, other facilities, shipments…" he trailed off. It would soon be time for them to leave.

"A lot of people feel like they should have the right to use drugs like this," Alexander said. "Maybe. They might say it's their right to do what they want with their bodies." He secured his helmet in place, now indistinguishable from every other soldier present. "But what they don't consider is the fact that every time they support this market, it means more lives ruined. More people killed over this blood money. But as you know, the people of my world are selfish and uncaring. So I say we shatter Sanchez's empire and avenge every life he's ruined in his greed. If the legends have agreed to my actions, then that's all the verification I need." He slammed his right fist to his chest, grinning as the other forty soldiers followed suit.

Each of the five squads boarded a Hydreigon – an aircraft that closely resembling the Ospreys in Alexander's own world. The only difference was that these had two side-gunners, each with a high frequency cannon, which, along with the co-pilot's weaponry, made three separate points of coverage.

A shrill whir sounded from each as the aircraft levitated off of the ground. Alexander gripped the rifle as the five Hydras flew in sync, far quieter than any helicopter he had heard. A gentle, probing feeling touched his mind.

Are they ready? Lunala asked.

Yes, Alexander thought. Let's roll. A dark streak flew by amidst the starry skies. Lunala spread her wings wide and released a high-pitched croon. He made his way to the cockpit, hearing the various meters beeping sporadically as the fabric of space was rent ahead of them. White sparks appeared and formed into a large ring. Their leader had grown used to the sight, but everyone else watched in amazement as the space within the ring twisted to reveal a mountainous landscape.

"There'll be time for sightseeing later," Alex said over the comms. "We get in, take out Sanchez and get out." He nudged the copilot on the shoulder. "No need to close the hatch." The aircraft passed through the wormhole, crossing into Alex's own world, and as soon as the legendary pokémon behind him closed the portal, he returned her.

The Hydras floated low over the ground, hidden by the tree line as they approached the warehouse. Fortunately, Lunala had gotten them quite close as had been expected. A local map of the region spanning a few kilometers showed them approaching the warehouse from the North; if they veered a little more to the right, they would arrive at Gateon Port within fifteen minutes. "Send the drone ahead," Alex stated, though it was unnecessary. They'd already been over this drill several times. A small, sleek machine shot out from underneath the cockpit as a hologram appeared in front of the co-pilot. The feed from the drone and its control interface were there for interaction. As he made it speed forth, scanning over the single road that led to the warehouse, there were no cars that were visible.

"All clear," the copilot said. "Recalling the drone."

"Copy that," the pilot of Alexander's aircraft – a female in her mid-thirties, replied. "EMP on standby." The Hydras increased their altitude well over the point of visibility, and immediately it was clear what they were up against.

Nearly two dozen trucks were stationed around the warehouse with two eighteen-wheelers in the back. There was no denying it; Sanchez was here. Several people began shouting as the five vehicles approached, readying their guns. If only they knew how little they would do. "Now!" Alex shouted. A loud swish was the next thing he heard. His Hydra launched a long, slender missile at the warehouse, sending a large pulse through the air taking out any form of electronics for several kilometers. The five aircraft took their positions on each side of the building and hovered in place. Copilots ran to the sides of the Hydras and seated themselves in the side-gunners. HFCs would make short work of those outside.

"Let's go! Let's go!" Alex shouted as two long steel cables shot from the back of the plane. He made sure he was the first, unclipping a handle from his side and attaching it to the cable. The descent was fast; towards the bottom, he squeezed a button, slowing him to a gradual stop. Seconds passed before the other soldiers had followed suit, landing on the ground beside him.

The cartel members and their pokémon outside were a mess, screaming in pain as they dropped to their knees and covered their ears. Omega troops couldn't hear the noise – their helmets blocked it out – but the sound cannons were doing their job very well. He marched towards the warehouse and kicked the front door off its hinge, unable to deny the feeling of strength that came with the exosuits. Thermal vision kicked on immediately in the absence of light. As Alex and the others made it in, several people yelled in Spanish, taking defensive positions throughout the building. He stood still as bullets impacted him all over the suit, doing nothing. Scratching the paint. They raised their own weapons as they marched towards the enemies.

"Light 'em up!" Alex ordered, pulling the trigger. People convulsed, releasing the most horrid yells as they writhed in pain. He had felt it once in testing; like being baked in an oven. The PDR had been appropriately given the nickname 'Heat Wave' as such. Alex downed a rhydon intent on charging him, focusing the scorching beam into the rock-type's face. Any intent on appearing intimidating was lost as the pokémon clutched his face and roared in pain.

One subtle thump after another. Large darts were launched at cartel members, injecting them with anesthetics. The hunters gripped their MPL-6's and took care of anyone who had been downed; two darts were stuck into the rhydon for good measure. Fortunately, they stopped there. A third would be fatal at that weight. He stepped over the twitching pokémon and continued the mission.

An enemy shot at him from behind a metal table to his side. Alex shifted his focus and grabbed the cover before slinging it into a wall. The man behind it stumbled back. The look of sheer terror on his face made Alexander grin. He made a move for his fallen rifle. As soon as it was pointed at Alex, he grabbed the barrel, yanking the gun towards him before shooting him point-blank with the PDR. As he went fetal, a dart caught him in the arm. Alexander nodded to the nearby hunter.

Broken machinery and cardboard littered the ground. He stepped on the door of a microwave, making it crack from the tremendous weight of the exosuit. The others had finished off their respective enemies and were ready to breach the second door. By now, the first and second squads should have successfully infiltrated from the back. "Callisto," Alex said over the comms, "what's your status?"

"Clear. All enemies down. No sign of Sanchez, though."

"Keep looking. No way there'd be this many people here without him being present." He made his way to the large, steel door leading in to the second section. By now there were several other troops there. "Huh, thanks for that, Proctera. Making me look bad," he joked, causing a few to laugh. "You want the honors this time?"

"Of course," she replied. Just as he had, she kicked the door, denting it inwards, then following it up with another, sending it flying into enemy cover. An AK-47 raised above a capsized table, spraying in their general direction. White dust filled the air as fire was exchanged. Omega took them out similarly to how they had the previous room, laying each enemy out without suffering any injuries, until a door opened in the back right corner of the room. A man had an RPG raised and aimed at them.

Alexander was the first to react. The man yelled as the heat scorched his skin, sending the projectile off target from them and into the wall. He fell to the ground, scurrying back into cover with the unloaded weapon. Like hell! Alexander thought as he gave chase. He rounded the corner, seeing the enemy at the end of the hallway, trying to cram another rocket inside. A front kick sent him into the wall behind him, and before the enemy could retrieve the fallen weapon, Alex stomped, snapping it in half.

"¡¿Dónde está Sanchez?!" Alex yelled, striking the man in the gut. The drug runner tried to draw a pistol in his panic. "Wrong answer!" He grabbed the enemy's hand and brought his other fist into the wrist. A sickening snap sounded as the guy cried out in pain.

Alex threw the man behind him, knowing a hunter would soon be by to finish him off, before treading down the rest of the hallway. His display notified him that the first and second squads were approaching the same room. An office.

"Everyone on me," Alex said, downing an enemy with his PDR. He smashed the wooden door open and scanned the room, paying little mind to the bullets impacting his suit. A large, reinforced door slammed shut in the back. There. He tossed one of the enemies into the wall and slammed into the door. It barely budged. "He's trying to stall us out," Alex said. "Probably until he can call for help. Get some demos—"

"Already on it," one of the four demolitions specialists stated. He placed the plastic explosives around the bulky hinges and stepped back a fair distance. Receiving a nod of confirmation, he tapped the display on his wrist, blowing the door off its hinges. Bills were flying everywhere, originating from four massive stacks placed on pallets. One of the few remaining enemies stood in front of a much older man, dressed in a plain button-down shirt. There you are, asshole.

Alex closed the distance between them, dropping his own weapon and picking up the last enemy combatant before slamming him onto the ground. A horrid gasp left him as the air was forced out of his lungs – likely along with broken ribs – while Alex kicked the weapon to the side.

"¡Vete a la chingada! ¡Tendré tu maldita cabeza por esto!" Sanchez spoke, his words merging together.

"No, you won't," Alex said, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him. "Let's talk about that shipment you were here for…" His visor scanned over the drug lord's body, highlighting a tucked pistol in his side. But what was far more interesting was the small orb in his pocket. "And speaking of which…" The man gasped something unintelligible as Alex disarmed him, then took the ball. He grit his teeth; it shouldn't have come as a surprise. "A master ball," he muttered. Pressing the single button, he released the pokémon within. A pink feline levitated in the air. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for a route of escape, and Alex's display picked up on her rapidly increasing heart rate. Grabbing the ultra ball at his own side, he released Lunala; a good choice, since the mew immediately sought protection with the much larger psychic.

"Lunala," he asked, not taking his eyes off Sanchez.

"Yes?" she asked simply, wrapping her wings around the mew in a comforting embrace.

"Can I ask you to bring these pallets with us? It's easily hundreds of millions. While I'm tempted to torch it all just to watch this dirtbag squirm, it could be put to much better use."

"Of course," she said gently. "I would imagine this would work miracles for many of the locals."

"My thoughts exactly." He gripped Sanchez's shirt and began making his way out of the warehouse. After a swift command, a dart stuck into the man's side, rendering him unconscious moments later. "Alright everyone! Round everyone up and be ready to go in five!" He squeezed the master ball tightly, crushing it in his hand before leaving the room.

Alexander walked towards the cell with guards on either side. One stood outside of just one of many occupied rooms, her arms folded as she rested against the wall. "Has he said anything?" Alex asked.

"After asking to speak to you, no." He nodded, then hit a button on his left wrist, opening the door. Sanchez was sitting on the neat, white cot against the wall. A table and chair were present in one corner, and a sink and toilet in the opposite. A lone, barred window gave sight to the shimmering sky.

"I see you've made yourself comfortable," Alex stated, hitting the mechanical release on his exosuit. Upon stepping out, he cracked his knuckles, then grabbed the chair and slid it near the bed. He took a seat.

"I want to speak to my lawyer," Sanchez demanded. Alex looked back at one of the guards before laughing.

"Ah… I'm sure you do," he said. "But that's not gonna happen. Unfortunately for you, your lawyer's a bit of a drive from here."

"You can't hold me here forever," the drug lord said. "I've got people all over the world, and they'll—"

"People all over your world. But we aren't on your world," Alex said, motioning to the starry sky outside. "Beautiful, isn't it? Looking out into a galaxy like that." He then pointed his thumb back at the members of the Omega squad. "This is their view – every hour of every day. There's no sun on this planet. Not anymore, at least. Do you understand? You're an entire universe away from anyone you ever knew. Well… unless you count the thugs in this building amongst your friends, but my point still stands."

"You… can't be serious. That's not possible," Sanchez stated.

"Not unless you have the Alolan legends," Alex replied.

"What the…"

"Do you understand your predicament now? You're cut off. Probably for the first time in your life." Sanchez had served time in prison before, but even then he had managed to run his cartel from behind bars. That wasn't a possibility this time.

"Perhaps… we can work out a deal, no?" Sanchez asked. His lips curled into a grin between his thin white beard. "I am a businessman after all." No doubt this had worked on prison guards and politicians before.

"That's what I came here for," Alex said with a short nod. "I'm thinking this: you tell me where every facility is and I bring your whole empire down, distribute the funds to the communities you destroyed with this 'business' of yours and then I might have you transported to a human facility. Who knows? You might just get visited by a loved one every now and then. If you've got any loved ones, that is."

"Pinche culero," Sanchez muttered.

"Alright, I'll admit – I don't know what you said that time," Alex stated, "though I'd imagine it wasn't good. Spanish-speaking countries can be quite creative when it comes to swear words." He stood up, figuring that he'd let the offer stand for a few days before returning. "Look, there's nothing you can offer me along the lines of money or power. We've got all we need of the former and we'll have every bit of the latter. So you can either cooperate and make things better for yourself… or I can tear your empire down without your help, brick by brick, and you'll never see the sun rise again. Your choice. Seems to me like a stupid choice, but to each their own, I suppose," Alex said with a shrug. Stepping into his exosuit, he left the room. "I'll be back in a few days. Think it over, alright?"

The door was shut, and a hefty mechanical lock clicked into place.

Special thanks to FuryWrites for beta reading this chapter prior to publication.