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addendum i

"Did it go well?"

This far from the Guild's capitol, there was only a waning crescent of a moon to illuminate the beach and only the waves to muffle their voices. Sobek slung the pack to the sand, reaching under the flap and pulled out a small, winged badge to show the Pelipper. "Last shot. …Pete, you're not going to stop me, are you?"

"I was honestly hoping the Guild would," Pete answered plainly. "If they're giving you one more chance, then so be it."

"I didn't ask if they would stop me," Sobek shouldered he bag again, the badge back inside, "I asked if you would. And you could, if you wanted to. Could have lifted off and left me here."

"I'm just a messenger. I don't judge, merely deliver." Pete ruffled his wings. "Now, hop on; we'll make it by morning with the favoring winds, if only just. Perhaps not."

"Right," Sobek nodded and climbed onto the back of the albatross. "Glad to see you haven't changed."

"I'm sorry to see you haven't—"

"Sobek. I go by Sobek now."

"…Sobek, then." Pete stretched his wings and, with three hops, took off into the night sky, flying west.

"You just said you didn't judge," Sobek scoffed.

"I don't. I merely have opinions and my job is not to voice them often. …in this case, it is that I really do wish you would understand what your fate ultimately is."

"Yeah? Well, I'm sorry if—"

"Do not speak his name!" Pete barked, almost snapping to a stall. Sobek fell harshly into the bird's back. "You're upon my back. I am not above dropping you."

Sobek frowned, rubbing his nose, "I take that back, you have changed since the last time."

"My apologies if this is the fifth trip you've asked me in as many years."

"You still agreed to it."

"If only for your mother's sake. And even then, it's only on the slim chance of correcting her legacy."

"Because my father wasn't as—right! Right! Don't even mention him! Geez!" Sobek scowled. "…I'm surprised you're not asking how I got the Guild to agree with me this time."

"I only assume it's out of pity they granted you permission to lead another team."

"I'm not leading the team, my partner is. The Guild's terms, sure, but when it comes down to it, he's decent."

Pete faltered for a moment. Then, "You are going against your Teachings."

"I stopped following them after I lost my second team, Pete!" Sobek snapped, kicking the bird. "When will you reali— …is that really what you've been doing all this time? Ferrying me to the Guild and back, always thinking that every time I was still swallowed up in the Teachings' dogma? Oh, wait. You're just a messenger. You don't ask why, you just deliver, no matter what. I thoughtthat, because you were part of my mother's team, you would at least be keeping an eye on me! But no. No."

Sobek's rage dissipated in a fatigued huff. "Pete… after… a-after Cindi I gave up. Okay? I honestly gave up. And… she was two years ago, not one, Pete. Two years. And then it was one for every single year for four years. I couldn't handle it anymore. I was done. I wanted out.

"I walked into a Dungeon and didn't bother to walk out." Sobek scoffed. "Turns out I'm not lucky enough for the curse to consume me. Figures. …I didn't want to form another team, Pete. I really, really didn't."

"So why did you?" Pete asked bluntly.

Sobek glowered for a second, then shook his head. "You still don't believe me, do you? …you can still keep a secret at least. Right, Pete?"

"As a messenger, I hold more than you'll ever know."

"Right." Sobek braced himself, "I did it to protect my partner. He's—"

"With how sudden you came to me, I can only assume you met her—him today," Pete interrupted, voice bland, but impatient. "How can you be so sure so soon?"

"Pete, he has the amnesia, but he still came up with a battle strategy on the fly. Plus, he's a Cubone, but doesn't fight like any Cubone I've seen, doesn't move like any Cubone I've seen. Also, how many Cubone take off their skulls every five minutes? Probably as many Cyndaquil that panic over their own flames. And if that doesn't sell it, he offered his hand to shake. He's human. I'm dead sure of it."

"And you truly are not following the Teachings anymore…." Pete droned quietly, shaking his head slightly. "This is risky, Sobek. After everything he did to the Guild's perceptions… if they find out there will be no getting out of this."

"I'm hiding him right under their noses, that's the entire point. 'sides, I've convinced him that he isn't really human. …it was almost a bit too easy. I honestly didn't think he'd drop it so fast. I barely said anything, and he just… he just threw it all away. That entire part of him. Gone."

"…I trust your judgment then."

"There's a first."

"Don't hide the truth from him too long though," Pete tiredly reminded him. "He needs to know who he really is. I shouldn't need to remind you of all Pokémon that true Prophets always come to this world for a reason."

"I know. I'll get there when I get there. But um, right now… he doesn't actually—he doesn't really know that I've done this—that there's paperwork saying he's officially leading a Rescue Team."

"Not again."

"I know! I know! I only did it once but that was when I didn't know better! I told you, I left that behind! I know what I'm doing this time. There is no other way to hide him. He's a Cubone, Pete. A Cubone."

"So long as you are aware. Though founding a team means you have a base of operations…."

"It's the Square's old office."

Finally, an honest-to-Arceus reaction: Pete's wings locked and they coasted down, eyes shocked open in a wild panic, thoughts racing through his head. What the place was, what happened there, what it would ultimately mean for the two down the road. He recomposed himself. "Oh, no."

"I told you, Pete," Sobek chided, satisfied that he finally got a reaction out of Pete. The Totodile sat back, looking up at the stars, "I'm not my father's little pawn anymore; I'm not walking in his footsteps. I'm not looking for him this time. I'm not even trying to make a mark on the world. And, just to make this clear, I'm not trying to indoctrinate anyone. ...the entire point of this team, whether he knows it or not, is to keep him alive!"

"He certainly will be the first."

Alright, everybody here? Good!

Now! Let me say this first off: no one here doubts your skills and talents—none of you would be here otherwise! But, for your accreditation and general upkeep, this is a mandatory refresher. If you just got your little paper two months ago? If you've been doing this for ten years? Suck it up, this includes you. If I see any of you trying to sneak out—you'll be wishing for an earthquake to strike, you all hear me!?

Good! This will be quick and to the point! A-hem!

When in emergencies, the single greatest and most important resource available to you is yourself. You all hear me? Each and every single one of you is trained to handle when these situations! The average Joe Shmoe isn't! If you're injured, if you're wounded; then you're in no shape to aid in any way, shape, or form! You stabilize yourself, and you get the hell outta there.

You, four back, six to the right. You gonna ask what to do if you meet wounded along the way? Yeah, there's always one in every group—that's what you've been trained in! It's your call! I'm reading off a sheet!

Two from the back, first on the right. What's your deal? …you're one of the new guys, aren't you? Okay. Hands up, how many of you have been in an actual incident? Hmm. Alright, keep those hands up if you're a newbie.

One or two. Oh! Three! Not bad. Not bad at all. …you and you and you, stand up—and you Wise Guy. Alright you four, sit down if this applies to you. The rest of you, get ready for some dancing here.

You just… happened to be there were there when disaster struck. One sits down. Stand back up, lass.

You ran into the proverbial fire to rescue a specific individual or individuals or item. Yes, Pokemon count. Two sit down. Two and a Growlithe! Glad to see Lassie went down the well to get little Timmy for once! Everyone up, Growlithe back in the Pokeball.

You aided the injured to safety. Three down.

You remained uninjured for the entirety of the disaster. …oh? No one is sitting down. Lemme see hands! Who manages to get out without a scratch—oh, ha. Ha. You're all a complete laugh. Nerds in front of the monitors don't count—you lot do good work, don't let them tell you otherwise.

Alright. I want hands again, how many of you were injured to the point of needing extraction yourself? How many of you were injured within the first hour? Half hour? Ten minutes? Injured in the very second it happened? There's no shame, you're not the one reading a paper in front of fifty specialists. Let me see those hands. …see this Wise Guy? This is why I get this through your heads first-off. Each and every single one of you is a major investment in the safety of the public when things go horribly wrong.

Each and every single one of you can make decisions that the ordinary citizen can't handle. The hard decisions. Save the cheerleader—or whatever you prefer, ladies—or keep the five with you alive? Can you make those decisions in a concise and rational matter when you're losing blood? Have a compound fracture? Or have a sudden case of death due to, but not limited to, any of the above? Well?

Only when you're absolutely certain that you can continue on with whatever scratch you got, then you start thinking about your attack plan. Of course you make sure the area's safe! I don't need to tell you that! Unless you think it's a good idea to do triage in a collapsing building!

And you three don't count. I don't care how you pulled it off. I don't want to know how you pulled it off.

Thank you, you four. Sit.

So. You take in your surroundings. If you were on-site, you ensure your own safety, you ensure your own well-being. If you're healthy, you help the effort. If you can't do jack, you don't go headlong into it! You get out! You get out and you don't stop until you're safe!

And this goes for anyone you pull out too, so I'll say it again.

You don't act until you're certain. You don't move them or yourself until stable. You do not seek or put whoever you rescue in further endangerment when you have injured. You don't stop until you are in a secure. Safe. Area. Only then do you start setting up shop and bunker down, lick wounds, and do what you guys do best. Keep yourself and others alive.

But! Above all, you put yourself over everyone else. It seems harsh. It seems inhumane. It might go against your better nature and training. It's orders from the big guy in the spinny chair upstairs, and that spinny chair doesn't want to lose any of you out there.

All-in-all. You all remember your basic first aid courses…? Leadership…? Dealing with physical shock…? Emotional shock…? Rampaging Pokémon…? Well then, any other questions?

Good enough for me! I hate these refreshers.

Just remember: we're not soldiers. We're citizens in the right place, at the right time. And, ultimately… the choice is up to you and you alone. This is all policy, and policy sometimes just can't hold up to what really happens out there.

We're done here. Dismissed.

End Part I

In Case Of Disaster