Chapter 2: Nice Knowing You

"I need to go do our analysis and presentation!" the angry voice echoed throughout the medical ward.

"Sorry, but you're not going anywhere until you heal up. It took us forever to drag you to this forwards operation base, and I'm not going to let you mess up your body again." A patient dragon's response.

Shadrach, wrapped from the neck down with bandages, glared at the Latios to no avail. A quick survey of Sirius' eyes showed a clear "no Tauros shit" attitude.

A more feminine voice piped up. "What we saw at that laboratory is highly sensitive material! It must be presented to the generals right away!"

"Aren't you forgetting who has the data disk?" Sirius responded.

"I have it. What are you talking abou-" The Latias suddenly stopped, face flushing with anger. "No, you didn't…."

"Heck yes I did." Sirius waved the hard drive in front of her face. "You sleep like an angel, you know that?"

"That's classified material! Give it back!"

"Not until your boyfriend there takes his meds and heals up."

A resounding slap brought the attention of everybody in the room to the two psychic dragons. In the second that Sirius stood there, stunned by the blow, Siria snatched the drive out of his hands and ran.

"Haha, I told you," a smug voice came from behind him. "She's a lot more determined than you take her to be."

"I didn't expect her to be so fierce about your relationship," he responded to the bedridden Umbreon.

"I didn't know until yesterday she considered me so highly. The way I saw it, we were just assigned lots of missions together because our abilities meshed."

The humored Latios chuckled. "Well, by any rate, it's not just me who thinks that you two are set for life. I'm surprised the both of you were so oblivious to the rumors flying around." He glanced around, making sure no one was near their cordon. Then, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "Care to tell me what happened yesterday? Siria seems to be really upset."

"Mmf. Classified," Shadrach dismissed.

Sirius adopted his business-like tone again. "Now listen, I normally wouldn't care what the mission is about, or what significance it has to our military. But if it screws with my sister, it's something I gotta know about."

After several minutes of silence, the Umbreon finally made his decision. "Ok. We were assigned to assault this base at Trinity, an outpost belonging to the Tamsus Militia." Sirius silently nodded, reviling the enemy organization in his head. "Since the Special Forces are all hush hush about these missions, they didn't tell us much. All we knew was the main objective, which was to obtain vital data from the main system of the base. They gave us info, maps, locks, and all of that stuff, warning us that what we were to see in the operation was 'potentially offensive.'"

"I'm guessing the 'potentially offensive' content was what upset my sister. They always pad the words. Instead of 'extremely' it's 'potentially,' and instead of 'screw you' it's 'we'll try,'" the Latios chortled.

"By any rate," Shadrach continued, "it was easy enough to sneak into the complex. It's just that, in the main room, ahh…" He stopped for a moment to choose his words. "There were several mutated corpses, which Siria had a great aversion to."

"I would guess so. After I got my first kill, the look on her face was nothing short of terrifying. I think I spent an entire week trying to convince her I wasn't Darkrai." Looking at him again, Sirius asked, "So what exactly did you find on this mission?"

"Well, I would be telling you, but you won't let me up from this bed to do research," the Umbreon stated. "If you let me go, though…."

"Yeah, no. I'd rather probe my sister's mind and get hit a bunch of times than have you walking around looking like a zombie."

The Pokémon in the briefing room murmured in low tones as a Latias in the front set up her presentation. She did not don the tight suit from yesterday, but instead wore her traditional military fatigues.

"As you all well know, a few days ago my partner and I were assigned to stage an operation in a certain area," Siria said in a clear voice, taking extra care not to mention the exact location of the event. "We recovered a disk containing data about the enemy's work there. Although it was somewhat damaged by a surprise attack before our evacuation, it is possible to read some data from it and form a vague idea of what the Tamsus Militia was attempting to do there."

Clicking her pointer, she advanced to the next slide, which had an image of a menacing, pitch-black Lugia. "Our main interest lies in a document that details the mechanics of Shadow Pokémon." Her audience rustled in discomfort as she mentioned the name. "Unfortunately, the author never left identification, so we cannot track the researcher down and get more information."

"Those are the Pokémon that the enemy is currently employing against us, correct?" a tired, wrinkled Persian in the back asked.

"Yes, General Alem, Tamsus recently began utilizing them as organic weapons against our forces. As such, our main efforts so far have been infiltrating or outright bombing facilities that house the Shadow machines acquired from the now-defunct Cipher. However," she said, "We are still unable to find all of them."

"This article is a very interesting one because it contains information that will complement our intelligence gained from whatever small amount of Shadow Pokémon we have brought in our custody. It contains instructions for the accelerated production of Shadows but also comes with defense and purification techniques." She switched slides, showing various images of weaponry and Pokémon attacks all marked with annotations.

"This data can be used for the production of anti-Shadow weapons, anti-Shadow defenses, and possibly…." Her voice trailed off for a second as she wondered how badly the generals would dislike her last suggestion. "Purification technology."

"We have no desire to associate with the enemy. The Tamsus Militia is a violent force that must be completely and thoroughly defeated. We do not and will not fraternize with them." A young, angry Arcanine in the back stood up, flames licking the edges of his muzzle.

"Brigadier Seraphim, stand down. The war room is no place for fighting," the spectacled Persian ordered.

"Yes, sir," he responded irritably, obeying the command.

"I apologize for this 'mon's brazenness, Sergeant Siria. Please continue."

She took the hint, once again advancing to the next slide. "The purification process is not understood very well, and, although we have source plans and papers, we need much time for experimentation to perfect the process. We can initiate the first options right away. As soon as the weapon manufacturers obtain the right metals and materials, we can field several types of ammunition and armor capable of neutralizing and defending against Shadows. Our training sector can also begin teaching our troops how to focus attacks to make them effective against Shadows, as the document suggests." The Latias concluded her presentation.

Alem looked at her thoughtfully. "Well, then. I think we're going to be revising some doctrine and purchases. Thank you for the presentation, Sergeant Siria. You are dismissed."

Although personal jets were available for all Special Forces personnel, Siria found it more relaxing to fly freely instead of remain confined inside a metal tube. She took a running start on the tarmac, jumping and heading back to the forward operations base to meet the wounded Umbreon.

After four hours of battered flying through heavy wind and rain, the formerly happy Latias nearly crashed at the site, dragging herself back to the hospital and slumping in one of the chairs in Shadrach's cordon. I really should have taken the plane, she thought.

"How'd it go?" her partner asked from his bed.

"It was alright. The brass seemed very interested." Siria laid back, running her hand through her slick, wet hair.

"I can imagine a breakthrough development doing that." Shadrach sighed, staring at the whitewashed ceiling. The only interruption in the next few minutes of silence was a cough from another patient.

The Umbreon then spoke with a start. "How did we even come to this conflict in the first place…I thought the point of coming here to Halcyia was to experience peace and to escape city life."

"Does it even matter? All I know now is that we're part of the Halcyian Defense now."

As if he didn't even hear her, the Umbreon continued his rant. "It's been hell on earth here. Military life? I expected to spend my days as a diplomat, not a soldier. And what's worse, I'm serving in Special Forces, where we see the worst of the worst!" His voice had a tone of steel in it.

Siria just watched him heave and sigh multiple times. His mind waves were extremely unbalanced and hectic, and not for the first time, she noted. Vaguely, for a second, she picked up the thought ...gonna kill myself from the black Pokémon.

Luckily, as Siria was about to ask Shadrach if he was really going to commit suicide, her brother entered the ward, carrying several boxes of food. "Hey, looks like the lovers are—oh…" he broke off as he saw his sister's saddened face.

"What happened?" he asked as he sat down next to her.

"Nothing," she shot back bitterly.

Recognizing her tone, the Latios took a peek into her thoughts, groaning as he did so. We'll talk later, ok? he messaged her telepathically.

Fine. Another disgruntled response.

Turning from her, Sirius addressed the both of them. "Now, I have two messages from higher ups. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"The bad," Shadrach said.

"Bad news for you two, at least. I got fully transferred over to Special Forces," the Latios grinned.

"Meaning…?" the Umbreon questioned. As the two others looked at him, he added, "Sorry, I only met you yesterday."

"Before today, I acted both as a paramedic for the Air Wing Division and as the "guns" of Special Forces. Each time I was needed for a classified mission, SF would pull me out of whatever duty or medical unit I was with and tell me to go in and blow stuff up. Obviously, my CO wasn't happy with me being gone half the time, and picked some brilliant fights with a SF guy, an Arcanine or someone like that." As her brother mentioned the Pokémon, Siria thought of the Brigadier at the conference.

"I guess Special Ops finally got tired of always calling the Air Wing to borrow me. Of course, I'll miss my paramedic team, but on the upside, I get to spend more time seeing my sister and her boyfriend-"

SLAP.

"But how'd you pass the stealth and intelligence exams?" Siria exclaimed as her brother rubbed the back of his head.

"I got good at stealth by doing lots of extractions and getting one of my wings totaled," he replied, showing her several scars on his left wing. "As for intelligence, ehh…." He chuckled guiltily.

"Let me guess. Based on your physical abilities, they waived the mental test."

"Sounds about right."

Huffing, she said, "I can't believe we're letting jocks into the Special Forces."

"Say what?"

As the two began to quarrel, the Umbreon interrupted them. "Excuse me, Sirius, but what is the good news?" He took care to lace the words with sarcasm.

"Seeing as how you're severely injured, and how your girlfri-" Sirius edged away from the blushing Latias. "Err, your partner are almost always assigned missions together, they decided to give both of you three more recovery days."

"Three days of doing nothing to help end this conflict," the Umbreon replied.

The Latios frowned. "In a sense, yes. However, you should look at it as an opportunity to revise and learn different approaches to missions rather than three days of uselessness."

After a moment of awkward silence, he brought up a box, sheepishly grinning. "Mess hall chow, anyone?"

"Sergeant Shadrach Chase, please sign here. We'll need this waiver before you go outside."

Luckily, by the second day, Shadrach's burns and cuts were almost completely healed. The Chansey at the front of the hospital was kind enough to allow him to walk around the base without anyone beside him, and the dragon pair had returned to their quarters.

As he stepped outside, Shadrach took in his surroundings. The sloping grey hills indicated the mountainous, defensive location of the forward operations base. Several artillery guns dotted the front of the compound, an obvious deterrent to any Tamsus forces looking to assault the fortification. A temporary airstrip behind the field hospital accommodated and serviced any transport and medical aircraft that came to the area, and the concrete bunkers shielded the base's inhabitants from sudden airstrikes. Overall, a nice little place. Nothing's changed since I got here, the Umbreon mused.

As he made his way to the cafeteria, he heard a slight whine coming from the east. The sound slowly grew louder and louder, and a dot in the cloudy sky came into view. As the Umbreon watched, the attack plane jolted and jerked in the air as it descended, as if the pilot were struggling with riding an unwieldy Dragonite. The wings were glazed over in ice and blackened by electricity, surely a result of Tamsus antiaircraft defenses. After an eternal struggle, the airframe simply gave in, slamming into the runway and skidding to the end. Its twin engines burst into bright yellow fireballs.

"Shit! Did you see that?"

"We need to get moving, quick!"

As he saw several water-types rush towards the scene, Shadrach decided he wanted to see the extent of the damage as well. As a Blastoise and a Ludicolo focused jets of water on the tail of the plane, the Umbreon felt something whiz by him.

"Arceus-damn! It's still carrying live ammo!" the Blastoise yelled when the gun port began to pop.

"Is that-is that a bomb on its undersi-" The Lucidolo partner didn't finish the sentence, the blast of the detonated ordinance knocking him off his feet. A few yards away from the water-grass type, Shadrach only had a fraction of a second to set up a Detect, protecting both himself and the Blastoise from the explosion.

"Great Arceus. Thanks for the assist. I'm Tor." The owner of the baritone voice extended a paw to shake the Umbreon's.

"We can greet each other after we see what happened," Shadrach responded, dashing to the charred aircraft.

When he reached it, his eyes widened. Inside sat a Flareon in an aviator suit, his usual red hide and yellow mane burnt black by the fireball. The fire-type wheezed, trying to breathe but absolutely failing in his efforts.

"C'mon, let's get you out of here," the Blastoise said, walking up to the craft. He gently but strongly picked up the injured Flareon, carrying him to the stretcher two Chanseys pulled up to the tarmac.

"Th…thank…thanks…" the Flareon sighed.

The fighter pilot laid on a cot, taking ragged breaths.

"Doc, how bad is it?" Tor asked.

The Growlithe looked at the charred body on the mattress. "Almost all of his skin is burned, most likely because of the explosion. Also, each one of his limbs and his spinal cord are fractured in some way. It will be nothing short of a miracle if he survives."

Shadrach gazed at the Flareon with a solemn expression. He looked so familiar….

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!" Both Tor and Shadrach winced at the scream when the nurse applied a salve to the burned 'mon's neck. Before they could react, the EKG machine sitting next to the bed began to beep frantically.

The doctor Growlithe yelled down the hall, "We need dopamine, quick! Now!"

"Sha…Shad…." The Flareon gasped, his frame shuddering uncontrollably.

Shadrach turned around, eyes devoid of all emotion.

"Tell…mother…I said…."

"Mother?"

"…hi."

With that line the EKG machine rang a monotonous tone. Another medic, coming with a vial and a syringe, swore heavily before stomping back.

"Shit!" the Blastoise yelled, punching the wall in anger.

The Umbreon only looked at the Flareon and the dog tag he recovered from the body.

"Kenneth Chase…huh…." Shadrach blankly stared at the ceiling he was all too familiar with, tears welling in his eyes.