Foundations of the World

by 50caliberchaos

Hoenn lays broken, reeling from civil war and suffocating beneath the tyrannical grip of warlords who rampage across the land. To this shattered country May, Wallace, and their allies bring a message of hope. But can May's idealism survive the realities of war? Can Wallace survive his disease? Fate has them set on a collision course with monsters, gods, and perhaps even each other.

3. Shelly - Chapter 1 - Under The Bridge

AN: Hello, hello, everyone and thanks for reading. I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying the ride thus far, early as it is in the story.
No real notes today, except perhaps a warning. A friend suggested I advise those with active imaginations and weak stomachs to skip the middle of the chapter. Oh well.
Peace!

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Shelly – Chapter One – Under The Bridge

The sound of mingled screams, animalistic grunting, and moans of both genuine pain and artificial pleasure wafted down the hall leading to the back of the large building and filled the entry chamber of the whorehouse with a dull and constant humming. The noontime sun shone into the chamber only through breaks in the wooden beams nailed over the building's numerous windows, or through gaps in the bars welded to the exterior of the structure to further secure the windows, so when the establishment's main door swung open and light flooded into the dusty room Shelly, from where she sat on a musty couch in the corner of the room, reflexively turned away and shielded her eyes. The sound of soft footsteps patting across the carpeted floor reaching her ears, the young woman on the couch sighed and shook herself from her little nap to watch the scene unfold before her.

Lowering her three-fingered hand and sitting up on the couch, Shelly rested her elbows on her knees and watched as a woman, no older than nineteen or twenty at the latest she guessed, with long hair the color of fresh wheat entered the establishment, trailing behind her a young girl whom she led by the hand. The child she guessed to be perhaps nine years of age. Crossing the filthy carpet to the desk at the opposite end of the room, the woman and the girl stood before the man sitting behind that desk and the three burly security guards who stood behind him brandishing clubs and knives. The ensuing conversation failed to reach Shelly's ears, but she watched with only mild interest as the woman argued with the man behind the desk while the young girl, who bore a great deal more than a passing resemblance to the woman, cowered in fear behind her mother's leg as if to escape the leering gazes of the armed men staring at her.

Arriving at some kind of agreement the man at the desk, a smile cracking his swarthy features and dark lips to reveal yellowed and rotten teeth, reached inside his tattered jacket and drew out a few silver coins, ten, Shelly thought she spotted, which he counted on the desk before handing them to the woman. One of the security guards then walked around the desk and grabbed the child by her yellow hair, yanking her away from her mother as the child began screaming in horror. The elder woman clutched the coins to her chest and backed away as the guard restrained the child, turning without another word and making for the door as the girl screamed and tried without success to break free of his grip.

Standing and moving forward, the man with the rotten teeth smacked the girl on the back of the head, silencing her instantly save a few quiet hiccupping sobs. "Quiet," he growled at her, just loud enough for Shelly to hear, "or I'll give you a real reason to cry and a bloody mouth with it."

Closing her amber eyes and shaking her head, Shelly folded her bare arms over her chest and leaned back into the couch. "Groudon's Breath," she swore quietly as, at the order of the man with the rotten teeth, the burly security guard slung the little girl over his shoulder and disappeared with her down the hall. "Animals," Shelly growled, listening as the sounds of the establishment's employees plying their trade continued floating through the building to her ears. She sat there several more minutes as a number of men and women, each seemingly seedier than the last, came and went from the establishment, more than a few of them leering at her as they passed. Each time one let their gaze linger too long though Shelly would merely draw their attention with a glance to the angry red "A" recently branded into the flesh of the back of her right hand and then to the two pokeballs clipped to her belt next to the wickedly serrated combat knife strapped to her bare thigh. Such signals proved more than sufficient, as any who spotted them quickly averted their gaze from the redhead on the couch and went on their way with renewed purpose.

Spotting her mark, Shelly stood and walked forward, spreading her arms in greeting. "Finally," she called as the enormous man in ragged shorts and a silk shirt almost too small to contain him emerged from a door roughly halfway down the main hall. "I was beginning to think I had the wrong address, or that maybe you'd died in there."

The burly man walked up to the proprietor at the desk and dropped a number of copper coins on the counter before turning back to shelly and extending his hand, on the back of which a wicked scar in the shape of a capital 'A' shone for all to see. "The way these whores treat me," he said in a boisterous baritone, "it's a wonder I can still walk." He smiled and firmly shook Shelly's hand. "You must be the new girl, the runaway princess from-"

"Yes, that's me," Shelly cut him off, her tone teetering between professional and murderous. "You must be the infamous Matt I've heard so much about," she said, "The Butcher of Bomba Island?"

A wide grin splitting his face from ear to ear, Matt bowed low. "The one and only," he crowed. "And," Matt patted the cleaver hanging from his belt, "Archie's second-in-command," he added, glowing with pride.

Shelly stepped back and looked him over, making no effort to hide the action. "Now, I was told that there was an assignment with my name on it," she went on. "Something about dealing with a cell that's double dealing?"

Still smirking, Matt jerked his head towards the door and walked for the exit. "Come with me," he said, pushing the heavy wooden slab open and gesturing for Shelly to follow, closing the door behind them both when she did. Stepping out into the blinding sunlight and sweltering heat and taking a moment to get his bearings, Matt looked up towards the cloudless sky. "Beautiful day," he shouted, raising his hands over his head to stretch, groaning loudly as he did. "Another gorgeous day in lovely Lilycove City!"

A grimace settling on her features, Shelly held back a sneer. "Yes," she muttered, looking first to her left and then right, down the noisy, dusty street as merchants set up in stalls called out their wares and beggars sitting alongside the gutter called out for alms, "I love hundred degree days with high humidity. The assignment?"

Matt put his fingers to his lips and loosed a piercing whistle as a buggy drawn by a pair of scrawny boys rattled by them. "Right," he said flicking a coin to the taller of the swarthy boys, climbing into the buggy, and motioning for Shelly to join him on the seat even as the cab sagged beneath his muscular bulk. "Corner of fifth and Wayside," he barked to the boys when Shelly climbed into the buggy, wilting like a thirsty plant as she sat in the shaded seat. "It's come to Archie's attention," Matt said, his voice low, "that one of his squads right here in Lilycove has been taking bribes from a Magma agent to ignore a pair of spies that have been reporting on our ship movements for almost a month now."

Thinking for a moment as Matt went quiet, Shelly looked out the side of the buggy as the claustrophobic city rolled by one congested block at a time. "Does this whole city," she grumbled, "smell of nothing but old sweat and dead fish?"

Matt inclined his head, though his tone bore a mocking edge. "Sorry it isn't to your liking, your ladyship. This is your operation though, I'm just here to observe how you deal with these traitors and give a report to Archie," he went on. "Have any questions about your assignment?"

Shelly smiled. "I'm touched," she said. "Archie trusts me to handle the whole squad of traitors by myself?"

Shrugging, Matt leaned back in his seat. "There's only three of them," he said. "Besides, your," he searched a moment for the right word, "exploits from your time in the Littleroot cell piqued even Archie's attention, so we have every confidence you'll be more than a match for three lowlifes."

"Ah," Shelly cooed. "So Archie's not concerned with whether or not I can handle the traitors. He wants to see how I handle them."

"Your grasp of the obvious," Matt said, "is nothing short of inspiring." He trailed off, looking over the lean girl in the seat next to him, obviously leering at her shapely thighs despite the scars crisscrossing them. "What happened there?" he asked, spotting and nodding to the missing ring and little fingers on Shelly's left hand.

Shelly raised one shoulder casually and dropped it dismissively. "You'll see," she said quietly as the buggy rolled up at the eastern end of a busy intersection.

The two Aqua agents stepped down from the buggy and Shelly, reaching into her tattered blue vest and drawing out a few copper coins, tipped the two boys without a word. Looking around a moment, she sized up the buildings surrounding the streets and the numerous people bustling about the intersection before letting her gaze settle on one particularly out of place little home. The single story building of red and brown brick could hardly have looked more lost among the multi-tiered complexes surrounding it, their lightly tanned plaster exteriors gleaming in the noonday sun. Shelly, staring at the building asked Matt if that was their target, to which the massively burly man beside her grunted in affirmation.

Without another word, Shelly reached to her belt, drawing a pokeball with her left hand and her combat knife with her right. Walking brazenly across the street she weaved between pedestrians and coaches alike before stopping in front of the closed wooden door to the little house and sniffing the air. "Opium," she smiled, detecting the unmistakable odor wafting along with the thin white smoke seeping through the cracks in the door, "this will be too easy." She dropped the pokeball to the ground where it snapped open and flooded the street around her with an intense white light that whirled around a moment before coalescing into a vaguely humanoid shape that stood about three feet tall. Reaching down and patting the grey-skinned Machop on the head, Shelly nodded to the door and picked the second pokeball from her belt as her Pokémon turned its attention to the task before it.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Shelly stepped back as her Pokémon charged forward and slammed its fist into the door just to the side of the brass handle. Snapping like glass twigs the hinges exploded and the door flew into the building like a missile, crashing into a table in the center of the room. Shelly whipped around the empty doorframe and threw her second pokeball to the ground as the still sailing door, the table, and glass hookah shattered into a cloud of splinters of wood and crystal as the two of the three figures lounging around the table screamed in shock. The third individual failed to make a sound before the corner of the tumbling table smashed into his skull and sent him reeling to the ground.

As both of the other men in their blue Team Aqua uniforms tried to get to their feet, Shelly lashed forward. She grabbed one man by his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, pressing the point of her knife to his throat as the twisting of his arm turned his back to her. Meanwhile her pokeball snapped open and loosed a flood of white light into the room which instantly took shape. Howling its battle cry as it leapt from the cloud of light, a black-furred Mightyena stormed the room and, spotting its trainer, immediately turned its gaze on the trainer opposite her as he went for the pokeball at his belt.

Wrestling her man to his knees, pressing the knife against his throat with sufficient force to draw a drop of blood, Shelly whistled to her Mightyena. The canine's ears snapped back against its skull and it sprinted forward, tackled the drugged trainer to the ground, bit down on his neck and, snarling as it did, ripped the man's throat open with several wrenching jerks of its head. The Pokémon's victim failed to even scream, instead managing only to gurgle as red froth erupted from his mouth and blood spat from the dozens of holes torn in his neck. Shelly laced her fingers through her man's hair and gripped the trainer's head with a steely strength, jerking his gaze towards the carnage before him as her Mightyena bit down with such ferocity the corpse's spine snapped and its head lolled back.

Leaning down to whisper in his ear, Shelly spoke to her potential victim with an icy calm. "How do you like my Mightyena?" she asked as the Pokémon looked up from the corpse beneath it, the fur around its muzzle matted and completely soaked with red. "Quite the beauty isn't he?" she went on as the man before her shook where he knelt, his lip quivering. "Now, unless you want to contribute to the diet keeping his coat so sleek and glossy, you're going to tell me the names of the Magman spies you've been working with. Lie to me and I'll-"

"Jasmine and Frieda Tolouca!" screamed the Aquan trainer with no hesitation whatsoever as Shelly's Mightyena stalked closer to him, growling and snarling. "You're looking for Jasmine and Frieda Tolouca! They're twin sisters living in the apartments on Conoway Street!" He struggled to turn his head enough to look at May from the corner of his eye, terror plain on his paling features. "Please, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don't kill me please!"

Turning only enough to glance to where Matt stood in the otherwise empty doorway, Shelly raised an eyebrow. Without a word, Matt shrugged nonchalantly and went back to examining and picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails, paying Shelly seemingly little mind as she turned back to the man helplessly beneath her.

Gripping his hair so tightly his scalp grew red in response, Shelly turned the man back to face her Mightyena as the Pokémon crossed the room and snarled right in his face. "You betrayed Team Aqua," she hissed in his ear. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't feed you to my dog in tiny, screaming pieces."

The trainer on his knees, a youth with brown hair and a dark face streaked with tears, broke down crying. "Please," he called out. "Don't kill me. I'll do anything!"

Shelly again raised an eyebrow. "Anything? Do you really mean that?" she asked, pausing and then throwing the trainer to the ground when he nodded. Folding her arms behind her back, she walked around the Aquan trainer and stood by her Mightyena, petting the Pokémon and running her hand through its fur. "I said the same thing once. I'm not from around here, you see. And back in my homeland parents had an interesting way of dealing with disobedient children; they would take her, drill holes through the fingers on her hand, and chain her by the bones in those fingers to a stake on the beach until either predators or exposure claimed her."

From where he stood, Matt lifted his head and watched the proceedings with renewed interest as Shelly held out her left hand, its missing fingers as plain to see as the gruesome scars twisting across her remaining digits. "Chained to the stake on that beach," Shelly said, very calmly, "I decided that I would do anything to survive." She flexed the stumps that remained of two of her fingers. "After I'd freed myself of the chains, I took to the ocean; without a boat, without supplies, without hope, I took to the waves, because I knew it was my only chance to survive." Shelly paused in her narrative. "What's your name boy?"

The boy before her stammered. "Ev-E-Evan," he managed to mutter. "My name's Evan Patel."

Putting her hand on his shoulder, Shelly knelt to his level. "Evan," she said. "When I said I would do anything to survive, I meant it," again she showed him the stumps on her left hand. "Prove to me you mean it as well, and I'll let you live." She stood and took a step back, folding her hands behind her back.

Staring at her a moment, Evan processed the demand, realization followed by horror dawning across his face a moment later. "You can't be serious," he gasped, tears streaming down his face as he looked up at the woman. When she failed to answer he looked down at his hand, his fingers already twitching in protest. "Please," he looked back up at Shelly. "Please, I swear I'll never betray Aqua again. Please, I swear it, I'll be loyal to the day I die."

Shelly nodded to his hand. "Prove it," she said. "Where I come from, forgiveness always requires a sacrifice, so sacrifice to me and I'll forgive you," she watched him intently, not looking up to see Matt watching her and grinning ear to ear at the situation unfolding before him.

Evan hesitated a moment, face stretched tight as he looked down at the fingers on his left hand. Slowly he raised the hand and slipped his little finger between his teeth. The edges of his incisors pressing down on the fleshy digit, he waited a moment longer before pulling his hand from his mouth. "Can I at least borrow your knife?" he asked, looking at the serrated blade on Shelly's hip.

The woman in the blue miniskirt laughed once. "Do you think I had a knife?" she asked, again lifting her mangled hand to show off its condition. "No, I broke my own fingers to get free. Two of them were so stubborn I had to tear them off entirely. You're getting off easy."

Evan's already morose features paled further, all color draining from his face as he slowly raised his little finger back to his mouth and placed it between his teeth.

Shelly cleared her throat. "You're going to want to go for both fingers at once," she said. "Trust me, once you get one the other is much harder. Take them at the same time."

Whimpering and closing his eyes, Evan knelt on the floor of the little house, shaking violently as he gripped his left ring and little finger in his teeth. Grunting as new tears formed at the corners of his eyes, Evan's jaw tightened but he failed to bite down any harder. "I can't do it," he cried, still holding his fingers between his teeth. "I don't think I can do it."

Sighing, Shelly shook her head. "Last chance Evan," she said. "Trust me; you don't want to disappoint me." She patted her Mightyena and the Pokémon stepped closer to the Aquan trainer, snarling hungrily.

Eyes going wide with terror, Evan sucked in a deep breath. "Alright!" he screamed, screwing his eyes tightly shut as the growling canine stepped back at Shelly's direction. "Alright I'll do it!" The boy leaned forward, reaching up with his free hand and taking his left hand by the wrist, holding it in place as he positioned his teeth over the bases of his two outermost fingers. Pausing just a second, his heart beating deafeningly in his ears, Evan screamed and bit down with all his strength. Two cracks followed by a noisy, wet popping filled the room. Lurching forward and screaming, Evan bit down again, blood spraying the ground beneath him and dripping out of his mouth. A third time he shrieked and bit down, this time the joints in his hand popped and his teeth snapped together. Evan jerked his hands, both soaked in blood and one now considerably smaller than the other, away from his face as he spit two bloody masses from his mouth which dangled from his left hand by thin strands of flesh. Moaning in pain he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the ground, cradling his left hand and crying.

Shelly stood by a second, a smile creasing her lips. "Congratulations," she looked down on the bloody mess before her. "Evan you've just shown me you deserve to live another day," she knelt by him as the boy moaned and she reached for his hand. Taking his mostly severed fingers in her hand she yanked them away, ripping the remaining ropes of skin keeping them attached. Again Evan howled in pain as Shelly looked down at the bloody digits in her palm. "This is your only second chance," she said, taking his right hand and putting the severed fingers in his grip, closing his hand around them even as his other hand continued spitting blood across the floor. "If you fail Team Aqua again," she went on, "you're going to wish I'd fed you to my pooch. Now," she stood up and walked to the door where Matt stood in utter disbelief, "you be a good boy Evan, and clean yourself up. Head back to the main compound and tell them that I requested you be transferred to my unit, alright?"

From his place on the ground, Evan nodded, shivering as the Mightyena strutted by him to follow its master. "Yes ma'am," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Whatever you say."

Walking by her bulky escort and back into the blindingly lit street beyond, Shelly patted Matt's shoulder and motioned for him to follow as she climbed back into the waiting buggy drawn by the two beggar boys, each standing silent, erect, and very focused on looking straight ahead and nowhere else. She paused as Matt climbed up beside her before turning to face him. "Well?" she said. "How was that? Did I meet your expectation?"

Bursting out laughing, Matt slapped his knee and leaned back in his seat. "I've never seen anything like that before. Lady, you're a piece of work! I can see why Archie wanted to bring you onboard," he laughed a moment longer.

Shelly meanwhile leaned forward and tapped the shorter of the two boys. "Take us to the apartments on Conoway Street," she ordered, flashing a few copper coins before them. "Double-time."

Looking to his partner as the buggy set off down the busy street, Matt ceased laughing. "Wait," he said. "Where are we going? The base is on the coast."

"The apartments on Connoway," Shelly repeated. "I'd like to pay these two Magma spies a visit. There's two of them, so one head can go to Maxie, the other to Archie, my presents to both of them."

Matt laughed again. "Well aren't you the little overachiever," he said patronizingly. "Alright," let's take them out and then we can head back to base. I'm getting hungry."

They rode in silence a few moments, Shelly staring disinterestedly off to the right, while Matt again stared at her. The big man casually looked her up and down several times before clearing his throat. "You told that Edward kid to ask to be assigned to your unit," he probed for a response.

Shelly glanced at the bulky marine beside her. "Evan," she corrected. "His name's Evan."

Matt shrugged. "Whatever," he answered. "Thing is, you don't have a unit."

Shelly let her gaze drift back out towards the west, a smouldering determination settling into her features. "I will," she answered flatly, ing sweat from her brow and silently grumbling at the unseasonable heat wave gripping the city.

SC

Kneeling on the plush carpet before the elevated stage, Shelly rested her knuckles on the ground as a number of men in blue metal armor made their way into the chamber from a door in the back of the room. First among those filing in walked a tall man with bright blue eyes set in a rigid face covered in crisscrossing scars. Making his way across the stage he sat on the throne in its center, his chrome-lined armor clanking around him as he did.

The middle-aged man leaned forward in his ornate seat, examining the kneeling woman before him while resting his elbows on his knees. He reached up and ran a hand over th blue bandana wrapped tightly around his shaved head. "So," he said, his voice steady and deep, "Shelly, Matt tells me that you accomplished the mission I set forth for you with a, a tenacity and brutality he's never seen before. Impressing the Butcher of Bomba Island," he grinned and waved one finger through the air, "that would be no small feat for a seasoned agent, much less someone so young. You're most certainly to be congratulated."

Still staring at the ground beneath her hands, Shelly nodded. "Thank you, Master Archie," she called out.

The man in the chromed blue armor sat back in the richly upholstered throne, running one hand over the steel and silver beams making up its frame. "Matt also told me that you surpassed his expectation when you not only turned a traitor back to our cause, but went on to eliminate two Magma spies in our city." He paused and looked around at his entourage before turning his attention back to the woman kneeling on the sapphire carpet. "You've impressed me, girl," Archie said. "What would you have for your reward?"

Without hesitation, Shelly looked up. "I would continue to serve," she answered.

Sitting still a moment, Archie looked down from his throne on the woman in blue. For a moment his face twisted and he clasped his hands together. A moment later the man in the bandana burst out laughing, dropping back in the steel chair as his guffaws filled the room. "Good answer," he said after taking a moment to recompose himself, "too good an answer. Shelly, be honest with me. We're all friends here; we can be honest with one another and I want to reward your initiative. Tell me. What would you have from me?"

Pausing this time, Shelly stared at the ground, her face a blank mask. "There are two people," she stated at length, cautiously, as though she weighed every word before it left her lips. "My parents, a prince and princess of Orre," she looked up at Archie and met his frigid gaze without turning away. "I want them brought here before me, and I want to make them prove they'd do anything to survive." Her answer came cold and steady. "I would do to them what they made me do to myself."

Archie raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a request," he said plainly. "An Orrean prince and princess to be kidnapped and shipped a quarter of the way across the world. I'll tell you what, little runaway, I'll give you exactly what you asked for in exactly the order you asked for it. Continue to serve me, prove to Team Aqua that you are truly indispensable, that you can and will do anything for the family, and I will grant you your request. I'll bring your parents here and you can do with them what you will."

Kowtowing, Shelly pressed her forehead to the ground. "Thank you, sir," she said. "You won't regret this."

Archie nodded and waved his hand dismissively. "Get up," he said. "Enough with the bowing and scraping. I don't know how things are done in Orre, besides being brutal enough to drive off someone like yourself, but here family members do not prostrate themselves before one another." He waited as Shelly got to her feet. "Now, I have an assignment for you, three actually."

Clapping her hands together, Shelly smiled wide. "Consider them done," she said.

"That's what I like to hear," Archie answered. "I want you to put a team together, pick sixteen men from any of the rank and file. First, I'm sending you after something that was stolen from me, an artifact of ancient and immeasurable power, the Ocean Spirit. It takes the shape of a blue orb about the size of an apple, and it was recently stolen from right under our noses," he turned and glared at into the entourage behind him before turning back to Shelly. "Matt will brief you on the details, but my spies last reported that the orb was headed towards Slateport in the clutches of an Orrean spy named Gavos."

Shelly bit down, grinding her teeth for a moment as her lip curled into a silent snarl. "I'll see to it with pleasure," she said. "I already know exactly what I'm going to do to that spy. And the other assignments?"

Archie grinned. "I'm sure you do," he said. "My agents on Isla Comienzo have reported a flotilla of ships from Kanto landing on the island. Their leader has made no secret of the fact that she's coming here, to Hoenn, and by now they're likely less than a month away from landing on our doorstep. I want you to head west and prepare a reconnaissance mission for when they arrive. As soon as those foreigners dock I want to know everything there is to know about them. If the opportunity presents itself to take out their leader, this May character as I understand, you do it, but otherwise maintain a low profile and just observe them. We need to save our full strength for fighting Magma, not dealing with foreign colonists."

"Understood," Shelly folded her arms behind her back. "And assignment number three?"

"You're to head to the ruins of the old government weather center," Archie leaned forward in his chair. "I've heard a group of scientists and mercenaries have been trying to get the station back online. I want you to find out why. If you think you can turn the project towards profit for the family then do so. Otherwise shut it down." The man in the chromed blue armor leaned back again. "That's all," he said. "You're dismissed."

Shelly snapped her heels together and pressed her fist over her chest in salute. "Consider them done," she said. "I'll conduct a few interviews for the team and be off before nightfall." She turned and walked away from the throne, across the brightly lit and lavishly decorated room to the double doors at the far end. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Archie and his men filing out of the room through the door from which they came.

Turning back and opening the double doors, Shelly stepped out, closed the door and, taking a deep breath, smiled to herself and rested against the door a moment. Opening her eyes and glancing about the antechamber outside the throne room, she crossed to the door to the barracks with only her own footsteps and the humming of the fluorescent lighting breaking the silence. Pulling the cafeteria door open and stepping inside the spacious, if sparsely furnished but densely populated room, Shelly stopped and stood utterly still a second as the two dozen or so conversations being volleyed around the room stopped the moment she entered.

Looking out over the faces around the room, Shelly spotted her mark at the far end of the room sitting quietly and leaning over a tray of shredded meat. She crossed the floor and stopped next to a soldier in blue camouflage and light body armor who refused to make eye contact with her. "Captain Tavos," Shelly said flatly,"I need you to assemble your men in the main courtyard."

Tavos, a shorter man with a dark complexion and a winding scar across his lower lip, finished a bite of his lunch and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Big assignment from one of the bosses?" he asked in a gravelly voice, his dark eyes affixed on the meal before him.

"Three actually," Shelly replied. "These come straight from Archie. I'm going to need sixteen of your men for a mission to the western cities. I'd prefer soldiers with a penchant for sadism, maybe ones with a history of violent crime and unprovoked murder if you have any available."

Showing off his gold teeth, Tavos grinned. "Anything for the boss," he said, standing up from his tray and grabbing a sandwich from the plate of the man beside him. "Meet me in the courtyard in fifteen minutes. I can think of a few that might fit the bill."

Later that day, well after the top of the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, Shelly stood in a small field on the outskirts of Lilycove City. The skyline of the city behind her stood out as a black shape against the starlit background, due in large part to the lack of power to most of the city's high-rises, though here and there a few windows stood out as points of light in the darkness. Before Shelly stood more than a dozen men and women, each dressed from the neck down in blue armor lined with chrome accents and carrying a matching helmet beneath their arms. A few had swords at their sides and shields on their backs while those that didn't carried crossbows and quivers of steel tipped bolts. One woman carried at her hip a coiled metal whip fitted with razor fine blades running the length of its body and a barb at its tip. Each of the gathered Aquan agents however carried no fewer than three pokeballs on their belts, with three of those present carrying six.

Walking to a tall, lanky figure who looked almost too thin for his already slender armor, Shelly looked the man up and down, privately wondering how the inhabitants of Hoenn could stand about in full armor in this otherworldly heat while she seemed to sweat every second of the day. "Captain Tavos tells me you're the best sniper he's ever seen, that you can reliably hit a man with that crossbow," she glanced at the disproportionately large weapon the trainer carried on his back, "from more than three hundred yards. Is that true?" she asked, stopping when the silent figure only nodded in response. Reaching into the pack at her side she drew out a steel-bodied bolt with a leather case covering its barbed tip. "This is a special weapon, coated in Muk poison. Once we get to the western cities and engage the forces from Kanto I want you to put this bolt right through their leader's face. Understood?" she asked, smiling when the sniper took the weapon and nodded again.

Looking the soldiers before her up and down, Shelly folded her hands behind her back. "Ladies and gentlemen," she called out. "Our first destination is Slateport harbor. We've got friends who may need helping and targets in desperate need of killing. Do your jobs well and there will be rape and plunder aplenty for all of you so let's hop to it." She took a new pokeball from her belt and threw it to the ground. A whirling cascade of white light lit up the field and was soon after followed by sixteen more flashes of brilliant energy. Materializing from the glows, a herd of flaming Pokémon leapt into existence, their hoofs and bodies wreathed in flaming manes. Shelly grabbed the saddle of her Rapidash and swung herself onto its back as the rest of her trainers mounted their Ponytas amidst cries and whoops and cheers.

Driving her heels into the Rapidash's sides, Shelly whirled the Pokémon around, drew a saber from its sheath on the mount's side, and aimed the weapon towards the distance. "Form up on me," she shouted. "Let's ride!"