First Contact

by Yakolev

A Halcyian Special Forces unit, one of many tasked with hunting a powerful militia, finds that rifles and missiles are not the only things that define their war. Instead, a shadowy force lurks, one whose surface has not even been scratched... AU/anthro

14. A Return to Normalcy

So, lots of stuff happens. A moderate amount of action (Gala :P), some background info, more of Sirius' crazy antics, and other things as well.

Thanks to hironada and Gala for reviewing!

Chapter 14: A Return to Normalcy

A Nidorina, a Ninetales, a Girafarig, and a Raichu all ran down a carpeted hallway, careening left to hug the wall and form a line as they stacked up besides a thin wooden door. All of them were fully outfitted in battle gear and fatigues, sweat running down their hardened faces as they checked their combat readiness. The poison-type and the psychic-type held black, sleek, compact submachine guns with suppressors attached to the barrels. The other two 'mon didn't need rifles, inherent special attacks trumping any range weapon they could use.

"How many tangos? Hostages?" the Raichu asked the Girafarig, moderating his voice so that any potential enemies behind the door wouldn't hear him.

"Four tangos, one hostage," he listed emotionlessly, shouldering his gun. The electric rat nodded in response, cheek pouches letting out a few sparks. Looking at the other three, the Raichu decided that everybody was ready for the charge. He squeezed the Girafarig's shoulder, who squeezed the Ninetale's in response.

Feeling this, she deftly drew a long, black flash-bang grenade from the backpack of the Nidorina in front of her and pulled the pin, being sure to keep her paw firmly pressed on the striker lever as to not have it explode in her face. After taking the three-fourths of a second to execute this action, the fire-type moved to the other end of the door, not making a sound as she virtually glided on the carpet. After taking up her position, she nodded at the Nidorina. Receiving the tacit command, the poison-type put a paw on the knob of the door and opened it slightly, just enough for the Ninetales to toss the grenade into the room. It then closed on its own accord, hydraulic mechanism sparing the four 'mon the unforgiving effects of the detonation.

BANG.

With the loud sound of the stun grenade's explosion and the flash of bright light that shone from under the door, the Nidorina shouldered her weapon and opened the door wide, giving the enemies guarding a helpless Latias only a fleeting glance before looking to the right of the room. She kept the fire discipline Special Forces training had drilled into her so much, knowing that engaging those in front of her right then would end up getting all of them killed. Sweeping the gun down her side of the room, she saw that there were two tangos in the corner waiting to ambush the team. "Right contact!" she yelled, not hesitating for even a millisecond as she engaged them, letting out round after round with clean pulls of the trigger. The rifle hardly clicked with each shot, sliding steel bolt the only thing that could be heard as the suppressor captured the otherwise noisy expelled gasses that followed the subsonic rounds' passage out of the barrel.

Maw agape, the Ninetales burst in on the heels of her partner, ready with the beginning wisps of a Flamethrower attack. Instead of looking to where the Nidorina was, she shifted her gaze to the left corner, sweeping from there to the center of the room and yelling, "Left clear!" as she found no enemies to be had. Like the poison-type, she also saw the two others behind the sitting Latias, but trusted the job of attacking them to her other partners who were about to enter. She kept the fire charged in her mouth in case she needed to supplement their attack, but if her input was actually required, then everything had already gone to hell.

The Girafarig, submachine gun at the ready, entered and stood in the middle of the room while the fire-type was doing her sweep. "Center contact!" Keeping eye contact with said enemies, he immediately opened fire on the left tango, bullets whizzing barely above the Latias' head. Then, right as the psychic-type switched from the first enemy to the second, the Raichu came up from behind him, leaping to the psychic-type's left and adding a pre-charged Thunderbolt to the lead already flying into the middle of the room.

All of this occurred in the space of less than two seconds. As the tinkling of brass cartridges on the ground filled the air, the Nidorina scanned the entire room to see if there were any tangos left standing. Seeing none, she clicked the safety on her rifle and shouted, "Right clear! All clear! One up!" to confirm that there were no enemies remaining and that she was still ready to go.

"Two up!" the Ninetales followed.

"Three up!"

"Four up!

As the Special Forces 'mon did their checks, the dragon stared straight, reactionless face remaining the same as she appeared to not even have noticed what had just happened around her. She hummed and released the handcuffs on her wrists, using psychic power to disengage the springs that held the locking mechanisms in place. After freeing herself, the Latias stood up, inspecting the steel plates above her shoulders.

"A decent performance," Siria enunciated, tracing a finger on a rectangular target that had several neat holes in it. All of the shots were focused squarely on a head painted on the metal. She then looked at the soldiers, turning her head from left to right. After nodding at the Nidorina, her critical gaze fell on the Girafarig. "Abel! Where were you when you started firing?"

"In the middle, sir." He motioned to his current position.

She nodded again. "Gary! What about you?"

The Raichu straightened up. "I flanked to Abel's left, sir."

"What's wrong with this picture, Abel?" She stared at him, expecting a very good answer.

"Sir, I did not move in a position so that Gary could get a clean shot at the enemy without taking extra movements," he analyzed, meeting her eye to eye. If he had looked downwards, no amount of justification would have been enough to get him out of fifty push-ups.

Satisfied, Siria glanced at the targets behind her. "You're right. What would your correct action have been?"

"I would have flanked left so that I could engage the left target while Gary engaged the right simultaneously."

"Correct. Now, any of you, do you think you completed this attack successfully?"

All four of them looked at each other, not knowing what reply to give despite her pointing out the obvious flaw; there were so many things that factored in that could have trumped it, and Abel was an incredibly quick shot….

"Yes?" the Raichu half-answered, half-asked.

"Is that a question or an answer?" she barked, displeased with his response. "Are you in Special Forces or not?" And Arceus, what did they teach you in Basic… she withheld as the third response tried to struggle its way past her lips.

"Sir, yes, sir!" He nearly saluted, familiar phrase sorely reminding him of his tyrannical Drill Instructor (coincidentally, his DI was a Tyranitar).

Siria gave the four of them another glance. "Well, you're wrong! I saw Abel spend three rounds on each target. Now imagine if both of them were 'mon holding guns to my head. When Abel took down the first one, he couldn't have spent less than half a second on firing the shots, seeing that his gun's on semiauto. In that time, the other could have easily put a bullet through my head because Gary wasn't there in time for his attack! Every millisecond is precious in CQB! Granted, Tia did keep her attack at the ready and Alicia did well with the other two," she complimented, motioning towards the dummies in the corner. "If she hadn't, all four of you would either be dead or taken as additional hostages. However, that doesn't change anything. I am still dead; therefore, this attempt is a failure! Try again!" She waved a hand at them, telling them to go back out the door they came in. All of them left one by one, having the presence of mind not to rib the Girafarig for his mistake.

Well, not until after training ends, at least. Siria sighed as she sat back down on the chair. Even though they've already been though the hell known as SF training back home, apparently there were a few flaws that still needed to be polished in the fresh, newly arrived soldiers. At least she could trust them with live rounds; blanks always took the adrenaline and feel out of an exercise, and if one of them royally screwed up, she could just Protect against the stray bullet.

The door opened slightly again, just like the last time it had. The Latias tensed up, preparing to erect a Protect barrier to protect herself from the adverse effects of the stun grenade they always threw in before clearing the room. However, as the door closed, she noticed that there was no black object bouncing off the wall and landing at her feet. Wait, why didn't they-

BANG.

She looked up to see a bright, fleeting flare of white light come from the crack under the door. Then, she heard the sound of muffled shouting combined with a body colliding with the thin wall.

Slightly alarmed but having a faint suspicion of what happened, she opened the door and looked out into the hallway. The red dragon put a hand to her face as she saw Gary slumped against the wall, eyes crossed from the intense light the fiery magnesium grenade charge gave off for just a second. The others were in a bit better shape: Alicia let out a roar of laughter, holding her head at regular intervals to relieve her starting headache; and Abel tended to the Raichu, trying to get him to stand back up. A Ninetales stood next to the door away from them, bright red glow growing on her otherwise vanilla face as she looked down in embarrassment.

"Tia, did you- did you miss?" The Latias gaped at her, completely dropping the tough-'mon demeanor she had earlier. The fire-type nodded, silently holding up the ring and pin on her paw for Siria to see. "Oh 'mon," she giggled, unable to contain her laughter any longer. "If word gets out about this, you're going to become the laughingstock of Special Forces for the next year!" This only made the Ninetales blush even harder in response.

"Whoa, what happened?" Entering through a side door, Levina walked down the hall of the training facility, seeing the disabled Raichu slumped against the wall. Tia hastily threw away the incriminating metal that identified her as the source of the problem.

Siria tried to keep a straight face. "He tripped, that's all."

"He tripped," the Ampharos repeated with a tone of disbelief.

"Yes, he tripped." She could hardly contain the laughter in her voice. Arceus, poker faces are hard!

Levina looked at the five of them oddly, trying to figure out what actually happened. Luckily, the Latias was interposed between her and Tia, so much of what the electric-type could have concluded was avoided. "Eh, whatever. Siria, 'the 'mon' wants to talk to you. Now." She narrowed her eyes.

"'The 'mon'? About what?"

"You think he'd tell me? Probably to use you as a stress ball. Maybe he wants to demote you back to corporal," she replied with trademark sarcasm. "No offense!" the electric-type added as Abel gave her a stoic stare.

Siria protested, "We're not done with this yet, Levina." The four behind her looked anything but eager to continue training, having already been through the harrowing flash-bang incident.

"Oh c'mon, Siria, they've already been through this five hours straight! Can't you cut them some slack?" The Amphraros put on a simpering look, trying to coax Siria into leaving.

"My DI pushed us for fourteen hours one time," she shot back, causing the other 'mon to cringe. "If you think I'm going to go easy-"

Levina shrugged. "Ok, fine, forget that. What about the fact that it's sixteen-hundred and that we're all officially off duty?"

She gave her a surprised look, then scowled. "Already? Hmph… fine, fine! You guys can go." Elated, they weaved their way around the two higher-ups, each giving Levina a grateful look as they passed. After all of them were gone, the Latias hissed, "You enjoyed that, and you know it."

"Of course I did! It's funny to tease you when you're in teacher mode because you're so up front and pushy about everything, hardly like the shy Siria back in the dorms! Oh, and we should get going now. Who knows what kind of hell he'll give me if you're late?" She began to walk out, leaving Siria to catch up with her.

"He made you an escort?" she asked. As they opened the door, she had to block out the sun with her hand for an instant, eyes still adapted to the dim lighting of the facility's room. And has it really been five hours?

Levina nodded emphatically. "Yep. I'm guessing that what he wants from you is urgent. Maybe he really, really needs someone to tear apart, and he picked your name at random."

"Can't you be a little bit more comforting about this?"

"Sorry, my care cup is empty." She smirked at the Latias. "Oh, also, did you make stuff up with Sirius yet?"

Her question evoked a sigh out of Siria, concerned expression turning into one of sadness. "No, I haven't yet… I really wanted to this morning, but he was gone already. I hope he's not brooding over it…." Then she stopped. "Wait, how do you know about this?" she asked with reasonable suspicion.

"Oh, a little bird told me."

"A little bi- you know what, never mind. You'll never tell me who." The red dragon huffed at her Ampharos partner.

After walking a little further, the two of them halted in front of a stocky building, cracked dark red brick walls holding up a half-concrete, half-wooden roof. His office was quite close to the suburban warfare practice facilities, much to the pleasure of COs and the ire of those who toiled under them. "Anyways, we're here. See ya!" With that, the electric-type sauntered away, heading to the recreational facility.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"You think I'm really going to stick around for him?" she called back. "Screw that! I have some pool games to win!"

Sighing, the Latias put her hand on the door, contemplating if she should actually go inside. Sure, she often met with higher officers, but she'd only met who all the 'mon called 'the 'mon' only a fleeting few times, mostly in terms of "Yes, sir," or "I understand, sir." And now he needed her for something "urgent?" She couldn't help but shiver a bit as she recalled all of the rumors she'd heard about him. Some said he used to be a DI who was so harsh that his entire band of recruits cooked up a plan to murder him. According to legend, he had found out about their scheme and then made them run up Mount Chimney for five hours straight, all the while attacking them with Dragon Rushes and screaming about how pathetically they executed their attack. Others claimed that he was never in the DFAC because he feasted not on food but instead on the anguish of the many, many soldiers who put in promotion packets but failed to actually receive higher ranks. In the past, she had passed off those stories simply as made-up tales, but all of those rumors seemed to become truer and truer as she opened the door and walked inside.

The Clefairy secretary looked up at her. "Are you Sergeant Siria?" he asked.

"Yes, I am." A hint of fear made its way into her voice.

"Colonel Lynch will arrive in a few minutes. He has instructed me to tell you that you are welcome to have a seat in his office." The pink 'mon went back to typing at his computer.

That name certainly doesn't help…. Feeling nervous, she queried, "May I sit out here until he arrives?"

"I don't recall him giving you an option, Sergeant." He pointed towards a wooden door ornamented with a small carving of a Rayquaza. Its serpentine tail seemed to swish, as if beckoning her to come inside. She squirmed at the nearly-condescending voice of the secretary as she walked over to the door. Taking a breath, she opened it and went inside.

As the door closed behind her, Siria couldn't help but let out a small gasp. She had expected to see a small, sterile environment with a steel desk in the middle, possibly with a stack of applications with a giant "REJECTED" stamp on each one on top. What she saw, though, was completely different.

The first thing she noticed was a painting that took up at least a third of the wall hanged over a large black leather chair. On the aged parchment, a great Groudon did battle with a Kyogre, the red beast standing on a giant of mound of land cracking under the sheer weight of the 'mon. The lord of the ocean was almost completely submerged in a body of raging water, the sea threatening to overtake the Groudon's domain by crashing against his fortification. The Kyogre's maw was spread wide open, bright blue sphere forming behind its ferocious, jagged teeth. Its polar opposite obviously had taken note of the impending attack, equally brilliant green energy building within its own mouth in response. Just as how the deities warred against each other, shining sun and black clouds too fought for control of the skies, each one hovering over its master and laying claim to whatever parts of the sky the other neglected. Far above them flew a small green snake-like body Siria recognized as a Rayquaza, appearing to be watching but not intervening in the two 'mons' affairs. She noticed that the painstaking time the artist took in each brushstroke must have been great. The Latias could virtually feel the heat of the sun, the mist and chill of the crashing waves, and the hate that brought the two together in their clash.

Wanting to inspect the rest of the room, she managed to tear her eyes away from the magnificently done painting, looking at the desk that sat in front of it. A small yet easily noticeable ornate oak plaque read "Colonel Stanford Lynch" in great golden letters, flanked to both the left and right by… a silver imprinted Latios and Latias pair? The latter looked nothing like her, taking a traditional jet plane-like form unlike her own. Behind the title plate was a neat, organized table. A steel holder held several fancy and apparently expensive fountain pens, most likely placed there to service the legal notepad on the center of the desk. The paper had tidy, clean cursive writing, but it was far too small for Siria to read as she sat in one of the cushy chairs in front of the table. It certainly didn't seem like notes for yelling at fresh recruits or denying all of his soldiers' promotions, though.

However, the dragon just couldn't keep still, intensely intrigued by the sheer elaborateness of the room. She got up and wandered to a wooden cabinet against the left wall behind his desk, peering at its contents though the glass. Inside laid many, many small translucent jars of dirt. One had "Kanto" scrawled on it, another, "Johto," a third, "Hoenn," a forth, "Sinnoh," a fifth, "Orre" …as the names progressed she swore she counted at least forty different containers inside the cupboard.

Walking to the right, she found its twin, another cabinet holding far different items. As she again looked inside, she saw many, many elegant wooden carvings of Pokemon she had seen only in children's story books and history texts. A trio of elemental birds was in front of a much larger, more powerful-looking Lugia, all of their wings spread wide in pride. Above the flying-types, she found a similar trio, except that they were the legendary dogs, all of them seeming to look reverently at a Ho-Oh who returned their gazes in a fatherly fashion. On another shelf, she found a set of the 'mon she witnessed in the painting: Kyogre, Groudon, and Rayquaza arranged in a triangle, with the green dragon in the middle of the two. A Latios and Latias sat to their left and right, respectively, looking at not the legendaries but instead at each other. Siria couldn't help but blush slightly at them, feeling honored that someone decided to put so much time into rendering a member of her species. On a shelf below that, she saw Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina organized in a similar fashion. The three pixies Azelf, Mespirit, and Uxie made a triangle that seemed inverted to the one the rulers of space, time, and the Distortion created, each psychic being sitting equidistantly from two dragons. Arceus, the god and creator of them all, postured powerfully in the middle, two hooves raised upwards as it reared on its back legs. And on yet another shelf were randomly assorted ones; a Mew, a Celebi, a Jirachi, a Shaymin, a Deoxys, and a few others that didn't quite seem to fit the theme of the other sets. What caught her attention most of all, though, was the fact that the figures were made not in a morph-like form, but instead in their original states as depicted in the texts of yore. She did not know why they were stylized like this, but it intrigued her nonetheless.

"Enjoying my collection, huh?" A baritone voice came from behind her.

The Latias spun around so quickly that she saw black spots for a moment. Hastily regaining her composure, she stood at full attention, saluting whoever had just come in the room. "R-reporting for duty, Colonel Lynch, sir!" she exclaimed, already regretting the stammer in her first word. As she regained complete control of her vision, she could make out who had asked her the question.

The 'mon who stood in front of her was a Salamence dressed in fatigues not unlike hers. The only difference between their dresses was the silhouette of a Ho-Oh pinned on a lapel of his fatigues, saying far more than the several meager chevrons pinned to Siria's. Old yet strikingly vibrant yellow eyes looked back into her own, as if they were reading her every thought. Although the colonel was noticeably aged, Siria couldn't help but notice that his muscles bulged slightly out of his dress, indicating that he was still more fit than some regular Army 'mon.

"At ease, Sergeant Siria. At ease." He chuckled at her formality as she spaced her feet to her shoulders' width and folded her arms behind her back. "Take a seat, please. It would be bad convention for me not to offer." He extended a claw towards the front of his desk. She did so, returning from behind his desk to sit in the chair she had first sat in. As the Latias made herself comfortable, the Salamence also strode to his leather chair, slowly and deliberately setting himself down on it. She looked downwards, not knowing if this Colonel Lynch was going to chew her out for what any respectable 'mon would consider a breach of privacy.

He took out a folder, looking over her profile for the umpteenth time. "Now, Siria, I'm sure that you're wondering why I, 'the 'mon,' eater of raw recruits, CO souls, and many other things, am calling you here today." She nodded tightly, now definitely sure that all of the stories about him were true. He smiled at this and said, "Relax a bit. Would I be right in assuming that you're thinking about all of the rumors about me being passed around here?" The Latias froze at this rather direct question, wanting to say "yes" to be completely honest but also wanting to say "no" so that she would not automatically become one of his "Most Wanted."

"Well?" She still gave no response, instead choosing to look at him. Then, to her utter surprise and fear, his once-amiable face scrunched up in absolute anger as he leaned over the desk, staring straight into her face. "This Colonel is asking you a question, Sergeant Siria!" he growled menacingly, slamming his claws down on the wood and baring a few of his fangs at the Latias.

"Yes! I mean, yes, sir!" she returned out of sheer fright, acting on reflex more than anything else. Oh Arceus, what if that was the wrong answer?

She was astonished to see him laugh and beam at her. "Works every time! Trust me, you aren't the first 'mon to have that complex, and you certainly won't be the last. Anyways, since I don't feel that I'm the tyrant and dictator that everybody portrays me as, I'll let you question me before we get on topic (we both have time to burn). Any questions!"

Still jittery, she managed to squeak, "Are the rumors true?" As his face darkened slightly, she cowered, believing that it was the wrong question to ask. Then she relaxed as he grinned.

"No, they're not. If you look at the raw numbers, I actually put through promotions for more 'mon than any other Colonel! Interesting, huh? As for eating, I actually do eat real food. Just not at regular hours in front of everybody else. Last thing I need to have is 'mon gawking at me, or to strike up some useless banter with a peer or a higher-up. I'm not too interested in becoming even a one-star General; I'm far too old for the position."

"Were you a Drill Instructor in the past?" she asked less timidly, seeing how fluidly and openly he answered her last question.

"Ah, yes, the infamous DI rumor. Almost always the second question, apart from your previous question and 'Please don't eat me,'" he replied. "Well, I had a particular group of recruits who didn't like me so much. Well, more so than others who have older 'mon yell in their faces every waking hour. So, in the second week of training, I left my hat (which is extremely important, mind you!) in my office to go shower, and one of them actually had the gall to go into my office and steal it! Hardly an assassination attempt, but it still pissed me off. After about six hours of yelling, I finally found out who did it." The Latias blanched a bit at the number. Six hours?

"So as you can imagine, I was angry. The next day I sent them on a four-hour marathon run up Mount Chimney. And no, I didn't force them to go barefoot into the lava; I just had them wear combat boots in the ash. I was even kind enough to make them do it during the volcano's dormant season!"

Siria, still not believing that 'the 'mon,' destroyer of worlds, actually was good-natured, couldn't help but ask about the most prominent part of the rumor. "Did you attack them with Dragon Rushes?"

He laughed heartily. "I didn't do that. That would just make them wet their pants."

She relaxed at his proclamation.

"No, I just used Dragonbreath instead."

She tensed at this new assertion.

"Seeing a stream of yellow and blue flame coming out of my mouth when I flew above them really got them scurrying, I can tell you that!" He chuckled at the memories.

The Latias nodded and tried her best to smile, but she was still intimidated by him. Maybe it was only lingering, falsified rumors that caused her fear, but still!

"Any other questions?" Lynch asked, still wearing a grin on his face. After she remained silent, he further ventured, "None, really? You seemed really fascinated with all of the stuff in here, I'll tell you that. The painting, the sand, and especially my carving collection. Are you sure you have no questions?"

She shook her head, but a thought emerged in her mind. Wait, how did he know about all of that?

He chuckled and startled her with his next response. "I can see it in your eyes; don't lie. I had a Psychic-type as a First Sergeant back in the day. He'd never lie, but he'd never tell the whole truth either, which kind of made figuring out who's doing what at what time a bit difficult. It took me a while, but I learned how to read him like a book. You're no different! So c'mon, ask!"

There was one particular question that had she had ever since the first moment she stepped into his room. "Why is your office so filled with… nonmilitary items?" Siria managed to get out, choosing her words particularly carefully so that she would not accidentally anger him.

Lynch smiled. "Nailed it. Anyways, besides being a Colonel, I study legendaries, which includes you, I might add." He peered at her. "The Latis are quite interesting; besides Heatran and Cresselia, your species, rare as you guys are, are the only legendaries capable of reproducing, thus allowing you to remain in society; whereas all of the other ones have died or no longer exist in modern culture. Sure, some of them may still be living, but the areas where they do are isolated and mostly inaccessible even to us, one of the world's most powerful militaries. And if we do happen to find a legendary we can access (which is rare, considering that they often reside in other nations and their governments probably wouldn't be too keen on a foreign military entering and extracting what's probably a national symbol), it's not worth losing the division and a half of 'mon required to subdue and capture it. Legendaries are frighteningly powerful in their prime; I'm actually a little bit nervous to have you sitting right here in front of me," he admitted, causing the Latias' cheeks to darken slightly. He's the nervous one out of the two of us? And what's this about my prime? I certainly don't feel stronger than others…. "But I digress."

"Anyways, because I sit behind a desk all day, I usually have lots of extra time unless there's a big mission going on or if a snafu arises on base. The painting above me," he said, leaning back and craning his head upwards to look at it, "Was given to me by a very good friend long, long ago. The Clash of the Titans, she named it. A very apt title indeed. Too bad the movie didn't really meet my expectations…" Lynch muttered. "As for the jars, those hold dirt from every place I've been at war. So as you saw, I fought in Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Orre, Almia, and many, many other regions, not to include nations. I kind of wish I didn't take the promotion from Captain to Major; otherwise, I would still be out in the field…."

That certainly explains his rank, she noted.

"And the figures," he continued, looking proudly at the cabinet . "I carved them myself!" Lynch raised one of his sharpened claws for effect. "They took a lot of time and effort, but hey, I have an abundant amount of that. The idea of legendaries, 'mon who are 'a cut above the rest,' those who have (or had) the ability to basically form our world, interests me greatly, as you can tell. I do have lots of books and texts on them, but I keep all of those in a separate area so this room won't get cluttered up too much by my junk. Does that answer your question, Siria?" The Latias nodded, feeling as if she had just sat through a history lecture back in high school. Sure, it was really interesting stuff, but its pertinence to the reason why she was here was questionable.

The Salamence picked up on her dubiousness, and said, "Now that's out of the way, the reason why I called for you. There are both good and bad reasons; choose."

"What is the good one?" she asked, strange decision going against her pragmatic self. What compelled me to pick that?

"You're being promoted to Staff Sergeant!" Lynch announced.

"Thank you," Siria replied with a smile, not trying to show that she had already known about her promotion a few days prior.

He looked over a sheaf of paperwork. "Of course, you won't officially receive the new rank until the end of the month. The ceremony's all the same, just like when you were promoted to Sergeant. A little speech, the pinning, the clapping, all of that stuff. Just be sure to wear something underneath, like a bulletproof vest." He pounded his pin with a fist. "When they give you the new rank, they really like to punch it after they put it on, and it does bruise your chest." The Latias nodded, taking all of this information in. "And, of course, with the Staff Sergeant position comes more responsibilities. I understand that you led a fireteam when you were a Sergeant? Well, in addition to leading fireteams when we need you to, you also get to lead three of them; basically, a squad. These are the nine 'mon assigned to you." He slid a sheet with a roster of names on it to her. She couldn't help but cock an eye: she saw the names of all of her living quarters members, the fresh SF soldiers she had just trained, and two others she didn't quite recognize. "Of course, nothing is set in stone because of the variable nature of missions, but this is your general list."

Siria folded the paper and put inside one of her vest pockets. "I see. And what is the bad news?"

"Ah, straight to the point, aren't you? Well, before I can disclose anything to you, I must tell you that all of this information is confidential. No, not just confidential," he corrected, perhaps intentionally, as he stared straight into her yellow eyes. "Top secret. Highest level of classified information. What is said here must not leave this room. Under normal circumstances, there would be paperwork for you to do and a full background check, as well as official documents and lettering, but we don't have the time for it. Do you understand what I am saying, Sergeant?" His grin was all but gone, replaced by a somber, stoic expression.

"Yes, Colonel Lynch, sir," she replied formally, sealing the verbal pact.

"Now, I understand that two nights ago a Special Forces group was dispatched to take care of some antiaircraft artillery in Trinity Forest. Five teams of two set out to strike five separate targets. However," he paused, "Only nine 'mon returned alive." Siria tensed at his explanation. "The reason for the tenth casualty's death is listed as 'combat casualty.' I must offer my condolences to you, but I will not try to offer other words of comfort. Anything said would only be an understatement." She nodded, pangs of regret still striking at her. "You and I both know full well that what accosted Wyatt and took his life was far, far more than a simple 'combat casualty.' Can you, Sergeant Siria, confirm for me that you two were engaged by a Shadow Pokémon?"

The Latias affirmed, "Yes. We were attacked by a Pokémon under the influence of Shadow."

The Salamence sighed and leaned back into his chair, seeming to have suddenly aged twenty years. "So it's true. Damn." The unspoken words of "What's true?" leaped to Siria's lips, but she knew better than to directly question a Colonel, especially when he was in such pensive thought. "Our spies heard that there was a weapon like that, and you even gave a presentation on it some time ago. However, we still do not know what Shadow does to its user and what effects it may have on our troops, which means that we have no counters. This is where you come in. As of right now, you are the only 'mon in our entirely military to have fought a Shadow Pokémon and survived." He leaned over the desk to cement the seriousness of his statement. "Your observations and input on this matter are gravely necessary if we are to combat this threat."

"I see…" she murmured, a little stunned at the severity of the situation. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything you got. Exteriors, attack capabilities, defense capabilities, speed, everything."

"Well, our enemy was a Glaceon. The method he used of injecting Shadow was through a syringe into his wrist, as if he was administering a drug." She paused for a minute, seeing that Lynch was scribbling madly on his notepad. "The liquid was purple-blackish, completely unreceptive to light," she added, making sure to note every detail. "After he did so, his fur turned a dark purple tinge, although I don't know if the color was mitigated by his naturally blue hide."

"As for capabilities, overall, all of his senses were enhanced. He was able to notice and dodge my attacks a second before they hit his position, and he was able to make modifications to his own attacks. Ice Shard is typically a strike only performed on land or a few meters above the ground, but he was able to jump up to me at a relatively high height for one of his species, undoubtedly the results of Shadow. There are two things that concern me, though."

"Yes?" the busily writing Salamence asked.

"First, before we initiated the battle, Captain Wyatt opened fire on him with a semiautomatic pistol. The cartridge he used were nine millimeter FMJ rounds. The Glaceon was able to form a barrier of ice and block all of them. Usually, this is an ability almost all special-based recruits are trained to use," she said, noticing Lynch's hesitation. "But he claimed that it would be able to entrap a tank round if he needed to do so. Although I could not tell if his claim was made to intimidate us, I would suspect that it is somewhat true, given the other enhancements he had."

After thirty second's worth of writing, he looked up at her. "And the second concern?"

"He had the ability to regenerate. In the battle, I was able to catch him off guard with a Hidden Power, Fire variant, and essentially put third-degree burns over his entire body. Nothing short of a room of paramedics would have saved him. However, as I went to inspect Captain Wyatt, the Glaceon suddenly caught me from behind. All of his burns were gone, to the point where it looked like he didn't even fight us. He explicitly mentioned that Shadow gave him a one-time chance to regenerate, which is why Wyatt was able to kill him later." She rustled through another pocket and took out the Choice Specs she had earlier. "These modified Specs from R&D have the second half of the conflict on video for further inspection."

The Salamence hummed and took the glasses from her. "So, enhanced traits, possible ability to stop hundred-twenty millimeter rounds, and regeneration, to boot. If the shit hasn't hit the fan, I'd hate to see what it would look like when it did," he said unusually calmly. Lynch stood up and paced in the cramped area between the two cabinets. "This will cause quite a few paradigm changes… more development of anti-Shadow technologies, changing engagement doctrine… oh 'mon. Anyways, thank you Sergeant Siria." He sighed, shaking his head at the gravity of the situation. "You are dismissed, and although I most likely don't have to say this to a 'mon like you, may Arceus have mercy on your soul if word gets out about what transpired in here."

"Yes, Colonel Lynch, sir," the Latias replied, getting up from her chair. She saluted him again.

"At ease, Siria."

The Salamence watched the door close as she left, eyes narrowing as the lock clicked. Sighing once more, he took out a second set of papers from a desk drawer and spread them out on top. Why he declared Siria's statements to be "Top Secret" was beyond him; in comparison to the data that laid in front of him, her experiences hardly qualified as "Secret," only capable of creating a major national security breach. On the other hand, this information could draw every nation in the entire region into a bloodbath of a war.

The pages had the images of the tanks and equipment that Tamsus had left behind in the night's raids, some images zoomed on specific aspects of the assets. It was the first time the military had been able to capture more than simply small arms from the insurgents; the fighters were incredibly meticulous in completely destroying whatever larger assets they had before the Halycians could find them. In fact, a few investigators almost got killed from makeshift booby-trap bombs planted in some of the tanks Tamsus had left behind. What was most disturbing, though, was an entire page of pictures of serial numbers stamped on metal plates from the machinery left behind. As he read the several paragraphs that followed for what must have been the tenth time, the words remained the same, never changing to something that would have belied his dread. All of the numbers, when cross-referenced with Halcyian military databases, returned that the equipment the militia used was developed and deployed by Mirunas' own military.

So essentially, the blue dragon concluded, the nation to the south was funding Tamsus' activities in Halycia despite repeatedly claiming that, like their neighbor, they too were victims of the organization's efforts. Tanks could be painted and physically altered, but the serials never lied. As the Halcyian Defense continued to chase and corner the insurgent organization at Ahan, a heavily suburban area in the south where Tamsus had first grown from a fledgling group to the network it was today, they could very possibly expect Mirunas to begin to condemn the Halcyians' actions, up to the point of declaring war in "self-defense." The scale was tipped in their favor, too; Ahan sat on the border of the supposedly innocent country, and military action could force Tamsus to "take refuge" in Mirunas and result in breaching their sovereignty.

Lynch swiveled in his chair to face the grand painting behind him, wishing sorely that some of their conflicts could be resolved by a duel between two great powers instead of complicated, twisted, and extremely political diplomatic relations.

---

"So, how was it with 'the 'mon?'" Levina asked Siria, giving her a broad smile. The two of them were talking over a table in the mess hall, engaged in their dinners.

The dragon speared her dumpling with a fork, cringing a little bit as the metal pierced the thin, starchy flesh. She was always used to using chopsticks for this type of cuisine. "It was alright, traitor." Siria made sure to lace the last word with an extra hint of sarcasm.

The electric-type couldn't help but snicker. "Oh, give me a break! I mean, I showed up all of the guys in pool! And besides, what was the point of hanging around if I wasn't invited in the first place?"

"You could have accompanied me in, at least…."

"Hmm, either kick some guy's ass or stay with a friend and see the death of her come over… don't blame me!" she responded. Siria remained silent and took an angry bite out of the dumpling, having no response to the crude yet logical options Levina had. "Anyways," she continued, returning to her original question. "How was it?"

"Well, it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be," the Latias admitted. "Colonel Lynch's not the kind of 'mon that all the rumors say he is."

"Lynch? Sounds like an appropriate name, considering what he does."

"He's actually quite nice. Courteous, even. Not to mention that his office is really interesting."

The Ampharos leaned in closer, obviously interested in what she had to say. "Interesting how?"

"Well, there was-" She stopped when she felt someone tap her shoulder. Looking behind, she saw the old, familiar Salamence. Putting down her fork, she stood up and saluted him wordlessly.

He nodded at her, tacitly allowing her to relax into a less formal position. "Sergeant Siria, a word," Lynch said, leading her to a corner of the great dining hall. Levina peered at them, wondering what they were going to discuss. After the blue dragon inspected her features for a moment, he stared at her. "Look scared."

"What?"

The Latias definitely took the colonel's words to heart as he suddenly raised his voice fifty decibels, Intimidate ability working at its finest as he roared, "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT! WHAT COULD YOU HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN THINKING?" Scared out of her mind, Siria simply stood up straight and stared at him wide-eyed. Then, glaring back at the many pairs of eyes focused on him, the Salamence snarled, "What, can't I have a proper conversation with a soldier? Get back to your meals." The other 'mon quickly heeded his order, the characteristic soft monotonous buzzing returning to the room as discussion resumed.

"Sorry about that," Lynch said in a much softer voice, looking a bit abashed as he turned back to the Latias. Siria only nodded at him furiously, nearly having wet herself from the traumatic experience. "I know that I'm basically recognized as Darkrai around here, and as much as I'd like to have a civil conversation with a 'mon, I have a reputation to keep. Can't have them knowing that I'm a decent guy underneath, you know. And I definitely can't let them know that I do things besides yell at people and make their lives hell."

"I- I- I see," she shakily responded. Arceus, he could probably scream the enemy into surrendering!

"It would be helpful if you didn't talk about me so kindly as well." He quickly straightened himself up and walked her back to the table. "It looks like your friend got the point, at least." Levina had a shocked expression on her face, unashamedly dropping her jaw in response to the colonel's ferocity.

"Do you understand, Sergeant Siria?" he asked in a cold, hard voice.

Looking at the Ampharos and then at Lynch, she realized that he was trying to further emphasize his cool façade. "Sir, yes, sir!" she shouted, saluting as she did so.

He allowed a hint of a smile to pass his face before returning to his cool, collected demeanor. "Good. Don't forget it. You are excused" he said, leaving their table and heading towards the exit of the building.

As soon as the swinging doors closed behind the red-winged 'mon, Levina whispered, "Arceus, Siria, what did you do? I never saw Lynch before, but I am so glad I didn't go in with you!"

"Well, I misplaced a pack of training grenades in one of the storage facilities so that sunlight was focused on them, and they exploded because of the heat," she lied, keeping a deadpan expression.

"And he chewed you out over that? Arceus." Levina repeated the epithet, still rattled by his outburst. "And I thought I had it bad… so what was his room like?"

Although she knew that telling her about his studies on legendaries would completely blow his cover, her conscience reared in alarm when the idea of fabricating an even bigger lie crossed her mind. "Well, err…."

"Hey, Siria!" someone shouted. Immediately recognizing the voice, she looked downwards and blushed heavily, not sure whether to count Shadrach's arrival as a blessing or a curse. The Umbreon took up a chair next to her, setting his tray down and looking at the two 'mon. "So, how'd training the FNGs go today?" he asked. Of course, he was referring to the fact that a few of the instructors had taken liberty for the day, and that the higher-ups decided to borrow Siria to act as an interim instructor.

Slowly losing her flush, she responded, "Well, it was alright… they're trained well, but there are little slip-ups here and there that need to be fixed." The Latias tried to avoid eye contact with him, focusing on the bowl of food in front of her instead. She knew that her face would virtually explode if she looked at him.

He nodded in response, stirring his soup with his spoon. "Good, good. For us, training was as usual: hell. You're lucky you got out of it." Levina nodded in agreement, sighing as she scooped the last grains of rice from her own bowl into her mouth.

"Did you have to work with the CQB exercise fifteen times in a row?"

"Fifteen times? Wow… you sure they were SF?"

Siria started a bit at the uncharacteristically sharp comment, turning to admonish him. "Don't you remember when we were privates? Even as corporals we screwed up the courses a lot." Then, suddenly realizing that she was looking at him, she looked down at her tray and began to eat, dissipating any potentially embarrassing emotions that Shadrach could see. If she had continued to look at his face, she would have seen a flash of regret on his features.

"Sorry. I guess it's rash of me to assume things, but fifteen is still a lot," he said, also busying himself with his food. An awkward silence reigned at the table as all three of them ate, none of them knowing what to add to the topic.

"Sooooo…." Levina began, trying to spark some conversation. "Hey, Shadrach, are you going to watch the battle tonight? I heard it's going to be good."

The Umbreon looked up. "Who's battling? I might go if they're good. I really need to update my list of strategies."

"Battles?" Siria asked.

"What, you've never heard of a battle?" the electric-type responded, smirking at her. "I know you're sheltered, but not this sheltered..."

"Just because I study and don't get slammed at the bar doesn't mean I'm sheltered! And I know what battles are! Just not battles… here," she finished lamely, beginning to question her previous statement.

This evoked a laugh out of the Ampharos. "Sure, and I'm going to get promoted to Staff Sergeant by the time I finish my tour." Siria thought of the promotion that Lynch had talked about earlier, wondering just how surprised Levina would be when she found that she had to serve under her. "Anyways, the military actually sanctions battles, believe it or not-"

"Believe it or not?" Setting down his silverware, Shadrach looked incredulously at her. "Battles offer both sides an opportunity to train and enhance their hand-to-hand skills in live situations, unlike the training fields where they only hit static targets. Of course the military allows them. Additionally-"

"Ok, anyways," Levina continued, cutting off the frustrated Umbreon before he could go into a full-blown tirade. "Usually there's a few battles every night, and those of us who don't have missions or anything else to do go to watch when we're bored. Well, to be honest, usually they're just two newbie Privates or Specialists going head to head, so not that many people show up to watch those unless one of them already made a name out for himself or herself," the Ampharos accented with a smirk. "But I heard it's a Sergeant going against a First Sergeant tonight! I mean, for those ranks you gotta be at least decent at battling!"

"The military feels so strongly about using battles to increase both skill and morale that they originally modeled the special attack training facility as a battle stage," the dark-type added, obviously not done with his vendetta against Levina's egregious remark. "Several sets of flat ground, premade barriers, lines that cut the stage into halves, watch box for the judges, all set to League standards! Even the size, sixty meters by thirty meters, is perfect! It hardly seems like a fight hosted by the military, either; the spectators could all be civilians cheering on the fighters, for all it's worth. For some reason, though, it's very spectator-unfriendly; you're lucky if you're fast, tall, or a flying-type. If the motor pool guys aren't on duty on certain nights, they'll drive a few tanks and trucks over so some 'mon can sit on them and get a higher view."

Siria considered the prospect of watching, but something else concerned her. "Isn't that a rather wasteful use of assets?" she asked, disapproving look crossing her face. "Especially since the recent mortar strikes…."

"The higher-ups didn't exactly build seats for anyone who wanted to watch," Levina said. "And seriously, when's the last time that a mortar caused a casualty?"

"Murphy's Law."

The Ampharos rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

"Anyways, Siria, want to come watch tonight?" Shadrach offered.

"Hmm…." The Latias took a moment to think about the invitation. On one hand, it would break the traditional shower, read, strategize pattern she always followed on non-mission nights, few as they were, not to mention it would give her a chance to get closer to the Umbreon. But on the other, she wanted to talk to Sirius and mend things between them; when she woke up, he was already gone because he had to go through the orientation routines with the other newly arrived Special Forces troops. He didn't exactly get all of the premier skills expected of him from the Air Wing….

As if she read her mind, Levina said, "If you're wondering about Sirius, he goes to every one of those battles he can." Siria noticed the lack of the word "idiot" the electric-type usually appended to sentences regarding the Latios. "So he won't be back until we're back."

If that didn't give her an excuse, nothing else would. "I'll go, then," she replied.

Levina nodded. "Good. The fight starts in ten minutes, so you might want to hurry up there."

The Latias picked up her tray and stood up. "I'm already done," Siria said, looking behind her to make sure that her wings wouldn't bat the head of an unsuspecting 'mon.

"Oh, Shadrach, we'll be at the entrance," the Ampharos said, preempting his objection. "Just get there in time, ok?" The Umbreon looked at her and nodded, still in the process of chasing a piece of meat in his soup.

As he watched the figures leave, he sighed and put the his spoon down, appetite suddenly disappearing as he realized Siria was no longer sitting next to him. He was really hoping to strike up some additional conversation with the Latias, but it turns out that she was still quite embarrassed about what happened last night. Not that he wasn't, not by any stretch of the imagination. It's just that Shadrach wanted to see if he could make things flow a bit smoother between the two of them.

He stood up and took his tray to the conveyer belt receptacle, wondering if he could catch up to them by the time they got to the training facility.

---

Siria nervously watched the crowd. Sure, the Ampharos did say that there would be a lot, but….

"Levina, when you said 'lots,' what did you mean?

"Oh, maybe five or six hundred," she responded casually. The electric-type craned her neck over the rest of the 'mon, apparently looking for something over the many, many heads that were between her and the field.

"Then what's 'not that many'?"

"Fifty, maybe a hundred."

The Latias gave her a strange look. "Hey, battles are popular no matter where you go!" Levina said, defending her assertion. "And watching movies gets a bit boring too sometimes! Even though we live on a super FOB, you have to find entertainment somewhere!"

Her talking was interrupted by a loud beep from behind them. "Hey, outta the way!" a Jolteon yelled. He was on the gun turret of a bulky green, camouflaged, up-armored jeep, equally frustrated Scizor in the driver's seat. The steel-type seemed to be on the verge of snapping the steering wheel between his claws.

As the vehicle slowly began to make its way through the crowd, the Ampharos shouted, "Jackson! Jackson!" at the top of her lungs. The Jolteon looked over his shoulder and saw her.

"Levina! Mount up!" he yelled back. She began to run to the jeep, grabbing the Latias' wrist when she noticed the dragon was still trying to look through the crowd. Having to push a few 'mon aside, the Ampharos managed reach one of the steel doors, pull it open, and jump inside. Siria closed the door, looking outside as more and more faces passed the small window.

Levina sighed, looking up at the Jolteon. "Thanks. I owe you one," she grunted, righting herself in her seat as the jeep continued to progress through the throng of spectators.

---

"Damn," Shadrach said to himself. "Why so many?" He got to the facility far later than was advised; he couldn't even see the battle stage from where he stood.

Shadrach, a voice echoed in his head. He snapped his head up, wondering who, or what, could be contacting him. Shadrach, this is Siria. We're at the far side, almost in front of the arena. We're on a transport jeep, a green one.

He opened his mouth to respond, but realized the futility of it. He was trying to physically talk to a psychic voice, after all.

Just think what you want to say. I can pick your messages up from here. Anyways, if you can't find us in five minutes, I'll call again. I hope you're not too offended by this form of communication…. He could virtually feel her embarrassment in the voice as the psychic entity quickly withdrew from his mind.

The Umbreon looked up, and just as Siria said, with much straining of his eyes, he could make out a yellow form and a red form sitting on what appeared to be a green vehicle. He looked at the crowd, wondering just how the hell he was going to get through to them. Then his eyes fell on the chain-link fencing that lined the outer perimeter of the training facility. There were hardly any 'mon there, only the very few flying-types who couldn't busy themselves with actually taking flight, choosing to use their extremely acute eyesight to watch the battle instead. Shadrach took advantage of this, using five minutes to weave and push through the edge of the crowd with a gratuitous amount of "excuse me's" and "sorry's."

When he got to the jeep, he saw Levina sitting on the roof, talking animatedly to a Jolteon standing in the gun turret. He quickly recognized that the .50 caliber heavy machine gun was empty, mostly because the lack of an ammo case attached to it. Siria was also sitting on the edge of the top, looking over the few heads that separated the jeep and the stage. Shadrach clambered on the hood of the vehicle and jumped onto the spot next to the Latias, causing her to scoot over a bit to accommodate him. "Hello," he said to her.

"Hi," she replied, looking downwards. "Glad you got the message."

"Thanks. That was a lifesaver. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to see the battle at all." Siria nodded in agreement. "Do you know who's battling tonight?"

She stared out at the training field again. "No. Levina doesn't know either, and from what she's been saying for the past ten minutes, it seems that she knows how these things work inside and out."

"Well, the battle should be starting… now, in fact," he replied, watching as his watch turned from 18:59 to 19:00.

As if synchronized with his timing, several floodlights turned on, illuminating the grassy, somewhat rugged ground and catching the attention of all the spectators. "A little flashy for just a battle, don't you think?" Siria quipped.

"It's a Sergeant going against a First Sergeant. Of course it's going to be flashy. These battles don't happen as often as you think. Maybe… once every week and a half?" Levina said in response. "First Sergeants are usually too restricted by their schedules to make it on the field."

"Sorry for the wait, guys!" a treble voice boomed. Siria turned towards the source, seeing a whitewashed two-story building positioned a distance away from the main stage. She quickly recognized it as the observation station where both instructors and passing generals would observe soldiers practice and perform their special attacks. However, it seemed that it was being used for a purpose tonight. "Anyways, let's get this going! We have a pretty good battle for tonight: a Sergeant versus a First Sergeant!" The crowd roared at this announcement, raucous shouts of "Top asskicker!" and "Top hat!" clearly showing a decent amount of allegiance to the latter.

"Hey, Shadrach, who do you have your money on?" Levina asked him, leaning inwards to hear his reply over the cheering of the rest of the crowd.

"I didn't put any Poke down this round," he replied.

Siria gave both of them an intensely disapproving look. "Does the military also allow you to bet in addition to battling?"

The Ampharos grinned Mareepishly. "No, but they haven't stopped us in the past four months. Anyways," she continued, "I'm betting on the Sergeant's side, 50,000 Poke!"

"Isn't that a week's worth of pay?" The dragon was slightly startled by the rather large number. Sure, the military provided for all of their everyday necessities, like 1,200 Poke Hyper Potions, but even so, she couldn't help but disapprove of her gambling.

Shadrach had another objection in mind, though. "Why would you bet on the Sergeant? It's statistically been shown that the First Sergeant has the highest probability of winning, outside of other commissioned officers above Second Lieutenant, of course. The chance of winning goes down by rank until Corporal, which surprisingly has less of a chance at winning that a Private, First Class."

"Thanks, Mr. Statistician," Levina grumbled, bright attitude quickly dampened by the realization that she might lose her week's pay. However, the announcer quickly brought her attention from the depressing numbers.

"First off, we have First Sergeant Darryl Reade!" The crowd roared once again as a Weavile jumped over one of the concrete barricades that separated the battle stage from the rest of the spectators, proudly walking up to a painted white line halfway to the center. He flashed his claws and slashed at the air, drawing another bout of cheering.

The Umbreon mused, "Reade, huh... he tends to attack fast and use his speed to avoid blows. He can't take hits that well because of his typing and defenses, so he relies on physical strikes to end the battle quickly…."

"And on the other side, we have Sergeant Sirius Long!" As significantly less cheering came from the audience, Siria dropped her jaw at this announcement, as did Levina. Shadrach simply looked on in interest as the Latios hovered over a similar barrier and set himself down before the line. Darryl and Sirius, both clad in only T-shirts and camo pants, glared at each other from their positions.

"That... what… he's actually doing it?" the Latias spluttered, completely at a loss for words. "I know he's thick-headed, but there's a limit! I didn't know that he'd fight in public!"

Levina slapped her face. "Well, there goes my money. Arceus-damn did I pick the wrong side this week…. How does he expect to make up for his double weaknesses?"

"True, the typings are against him," Shadrach said. "But I'm guessing that he has a few tricks up his sleeve. Siria, would I be correct in assuming so?"

She nodded, looking out at the two combatants. If Sirius could catch Darryl off guard with a physical attack, then he could bypass the ice-type's decent Special Defense….

"You both know the rules! No guns, no 'nades, no weapons! Just one sanctioned hold item per 'mon! First who's unable to move loses! Severe punishments will be given out for unnecessary attacks after the winner has been declared! Is that understood?" Both the Latios and the Weavile turned to nod once at the building before returning to stare at each other. "Good! Let the battle… begin!"

As soon as the word sounded, the Weavile disappeared, wind whistling as he suddenly appeared right in front of Sirius. His ice-coated claws were drawn back, prepared to hit him in the chest with an Ice Shard. The Latios only had a fraction of a second to Protect, seeing sparks and mist play off the pale blue guard he created in front of him as Darryl swiped at it. The blue dragon knew better than to remain unaware, though; as the black figure disappeared again, Sirius tensed up, trying to sense where his enemy would try to strike him next.

He felt the air behind him waver a bit and immediately knew that the Weavile would try to strike at his back. As Darryl appeared right where he had predicted, Sirius roared and lashed out with a reverse roundhouse kick, pivoting on the ball of his foot as he swung his right heel at his head. However, instead of making contact with his face, the Latios was surprised to find that the ice-type had actually dodged and wrapped his arms around his outstretched leg. He then let out a shout as Darryl began to perform a shoulder throw, obviously with the intent to slam the dragon into the ground and deal a decisive injury to end the match early.

"Oh no you don't!" he snarled, charging a Dragon Pulse in his mouth. As Darryl began to pivot to throw the Latios down, he widened his eyes as he saw the blue glow in his maw, immediately letting go of him and narrowly avoiding the searing energy beam that filled his place not a second later. The attack flew right into the crowd, only to be absorbed and neutralized by an invisible shield before it passed the concrete barriers. As Sirius recollected himself, both of them leaped back to their original places, only breathing lightly despite the exertion taken in the five-second exchange.

The crowd cheered wildly, impressed and exhilarated by the display of skill of both of the 'mon. However, Siria was interested in something else. "Why did his attack dissipate? Rather, who's generating the protective barriers?"

"There are a team of twenty Alakazam scattered in the crowd. They work together to make a seamless Protect barrier around the entire arena. Nothing short of a Typhlosion's fully charged Blast Burn would even cause it to bend," Shadrach reassured. "If there's one thing they make sure of, it's protecting all of the soldiers so they're constantly combat ready so they can go and get injured out in the field." He smirked at this irony.

As the two of them talked, the battlers were engaged in another kind of conversation. The Latios, hands throwing off sparks, stretched out his arms and aimed a powerful bolt of electricity at Darryl's position. Yellow glow crackling in the air, the stream arced and hit the dirt, harmlessly grounding itself as the Weavile it targeted nimbly dodged the Thunderbolt attack. Sirius jumped upwards as the ice-type suddenly materialized before him, swiping at him not with an Ice Shard but instead a Night Slash. Looking down at the temporarily confused Darryl, the dragon charged a pair of fireballs in his hands, throwing the Hidden Power attacks down one by one. In response, the Weavile performed Detect, defensive shield allowing him to block the first shot long enough to slip away before the second orange sphere flew by. It collided with the ground, creating a muffled explosion and a small crater.

The Latios was relentless in his pursuit, calling upon his full repository of attacks in engaging Darryl. As the Weavile retreated to the center of the arena, the hovering Sirius opened his maw and shot several rings of water at him, attempting to use Water Pulse to injure and confuse the ice-type. As the rings naturally expanded as they headed towards him, Darryl took advantage of the fact, jumping through one of them. As the dragon finished his attack, he was more than surprised to see a headdress-wearing 'mon charging straight at him. His claws were curled into a fist, condensation around them telling Sirius that the Weavile was about to perform an Ice Punch. Unable to completely dodge the blow, he created yet another Protect barrier, utilizing the same strategy that his enemy used to escape the attack.

As the two 'mon continued to exchange blows in a Meowth-and-Pikachu manner, Siria looked over at a very exited Ampharos. "Uh, Levina?" the Latias asked.

"Fuck 'em up!" she hollered, shaking her fist in the air. Then she looked down at her inquiring friend. "Oh, what?"

"Is there actually a winner, or do they keep on dodging each other's attacks?"

"Oh, there's a tradition that battlers use. Basically, they keep avoiding each other until one slips up and lets the other hit him. Then-" She was interrupted as a giant "ooooooohhhh" rolled through the crowd. They both saw Sirius float back down to the ground, wiping at his face. From their distance, they saw that there was a neat, bleeding cut staining his normally grey cheek. Darryl was standing behind his line again, folding his arms and smirking at the Latios.

"Then, they basically try to beat the tar out of each other until one remains standing," she finished, attention torn away from the Latias as Sirius surged forward with another Hidden Power attack. This time, though, the energy spheres glowed a dull red instead of a fervent orange, telling Siria that its type had changed from Fire to Fighting. I didn't know he could change HP types! Doesn't that mean he had to change… IVs?

The Weavile took the attack in stride, dodging the first one by ducking under the enraged dragon's swing. He then planted an Ice Punch right in Sirius' chest, causing him to yell out on pain as the type weakness hurt him far more than usual. This didn't stop the Latios' momentum, though; he took the other Hidden Power attack and struck at Darryl's side. That, with the double weakness, was more than enough to send him reeling with the force of Sirius' attack. Both of them retreated to their respective sides, nursing their injuries and muttering curses.

Or so it seemed, at least. Sirius' body glowed a faint blue as he suddenly lunged at the Weavile with a Dragon Pulse in maw. His sister watched in fascination as the Latios simply didn't just charge, though. He made a set of methodical moves, tapping here, then jumping there, and after, much to the Latias' amusement, slamming his hand down to the ground and performing a six-step, legs virtually vanishing into a blur before he righted himself and exhaled the attack at the Weavile. Siria couldn't help but giggle at the spectacle as he got up from his dance routine, wondering why he would choose a time like now to show off. Back in high school, Sirius never had any formal dance skills. Sure, he could b-boy like crazy, but every girl he tried to dance with at prom stood him up because he couldn't do a slow dance for his life. Well, that, and the fact that he was a giant flirt; Siria wasn't too sure which one contributed more to his lack of luck.

The Umbreon also looked on, equally interested. "Why is he dancing…? It can't be Dragon Dance. Latios aren't physically adept," he ruled out. The Latias besides him heard this, suddenly realizing why Sirius was doing it. Shadrach still didn't know about his unusual skill, and if the super-observant dark-type didn't pick up on it, chances that others would were slim. So if her brother could pull off the stunt without being noticed, then….

"Hey, sarge!" Darryl snapped, looking rather pissed off. "This is a battle, not a dance contest! Get back into it!"

Sirius grinned at him, limply holding his hand to his forehead. "Sure thing, first shirt." Then, in a gesture of utter, complete disrespect, he performed a leg kick and spun around on the tips of his boots, grinning mischievously all the while. The glow around him grew a little brighter, but not enough for anyone but Siria to notice. She imagined that the only thing that he was missing was a suit and a top hat as he performed the move.

More than fed up with the Latios' antics, the Weavile roared and dashed at the dragon, claws glowing a pale green as he readied a potentially deadly X-Scissor attack. However, Sirius neither bit the bullet nor erected a Protect barrier. He danced out of the way, a second spin and a nearly sixty-five degree lean over the ground allowing him to dodge the two furious claws that slashed above his body. The ice-type had to cut a second attack short and jump away as Sirius let a charged Shadow Ball rip from his hands. Darryl then tried striking from behind, but the Latios had analyzed his fighting style by then. Sirius rested one hand on the ground and turned around to perform a rapid flare, causing the ice-type to hold an arm up to block the flailing legs. As the Weavile angrily tried to make a fourth attempt, a powerful blue beam caught him off guard and singed one of his feathers. Scowling, he jumped back to collect himself for another strike. "Sergeant, take this battle seriously!" he growled.

Sirius seemed to not hear him at first, folding his arms in front of him. He then struck a pose, snapping his right hand to his forehead as if he were to grip the non-existential hat on his head. The aura that surrounded him now turned a very deep, noticeable blue. Murmurs went through the crowd as they pondered this new development. The Latios looked up and stared at Darryl, who appeared a bit less aggressive and far more anticipatory of the dragon's mysterious new ability.

"Serious? I'll show you serious." Then Sirius disappeared completely from view, the Dragon Dances under his belt boosting his speed to nearly thrice times that of the Weavile's. Looking around him, the confused Darryl tried to identify an opponent. A more immediate rumbling in the ground attracted his attention, though, as a giant crack in the ground ran up to him with frightening speed. As he leaped upwards to dodge the attack, he realized that Sirius had invoked an Earthquake attack. But how? he asked himself. I thought Latios weren't good at physical specs!

His musings were cut short by a blue form suddenly appearing above him. "I'm super cereal." Sirius smirked, unsheathing the claws in his hand in preparation for a Dragon Claw. Darryl, unable to perform any airborne attacks, could only watch as the Latios executed his attack, slamming the Weavile down into the ground with a slash. Then, Sirius dived down, about to pierce the cloud of dirt between him and his enemy-

And suddenly broke off, instead returning to his side of the field and standing there. The Latios was bound by his sense of honor: if he was going to take down an enemy he wasn't ordered to kill on sight, he wanted to make it as fair of a fight as possible. An eerie silence captivated the spectators as they slowly took in the scene. As he waited, a faint silhouette of a 'mon appeared in the dust, staggering and tottering. The Weavile, with many, many cuts all over his body, gave a content sigh. "Good… game," Darryl breathed before falling face flat on the ground. After realizing what had just happened, the crowd cheered wildly, finally understanding that Sirius had won the battle.

"Holy shit, that was amazing!"

"Power and style in that b-boying! You don't see that too often."

"Did that sarge take out a First Sergeant?"

"Fuck yeah he did!"

"And it looks like Sergeant Sirius Long is victorious over First Sergeant Darryl Reade!" the speakers boomed over the shouts as a pair of Blissey administered first aid to the Weavile, giving him a Revive and several Potions before carrying him out on a stretcher.

Levina and, to Siria's surprise, Shadrach, had both dropped their jaws at Sirius' performance. The Latias simply smiled, knowing full well her brother's battling capabilities. Sure, she'd only seen two of his fights, but those were already more than enough to tell her that he was one of the best she'd ever seen.

The Ampharos shook her head. "Are you sure that's Sirius? As in Sirius, the guy who sleeps in our room and hits on me constantly?"

Siria didn't answer her question, instead watching the blue dragon out on the field. He was talking with a third Blissey, taking what seemed to be a pack of Full Restores from her. After, he leaped in the air and flew away, seeming to head back towards the living quarters before the mad rush of soldiers could reach him.

"It certainly seems like it," Shadrach replied to Levina, equally stunned. "Arceus, I never thought I'd be saying this, but I need to learn from him. Siria, did he use Dragon Dance to power his physical attacks? I never thought I'd see a Latios do- Siria?" He looked towards his right, finding that the aforementioned Latias was no longer there. Glancing upwards, he saw a small red body flying in the air, returning back to main base.

---

Sirius opened the door and flicked on the lights of the dorm. He walked to his bed and sat down, completely exhausted from the fight. The two Full Restores the nice medic had given him laid ignored on the side of the bed. The punch the Weavile gave to his chest hurt like hell, especially since his Hidden Power didn't end the battle right there. He had anticipated that the ice-type would be holding a Chople Berry, but he didn't expect it to mitigate his attack so much that Darryl could make a counterattack. And he certainly didn't expect to have to pull out that strategy on the First Sergeant. But hell, he'd won, and that's all that counted.

The Latios put a hand under his right wing, scratching for something tucked under it. After a few seconds, he pulled out a small, purple crystal ball. The Life Orb certainly took its toll on his energy, converting it into raw power for his attacks, but he was luckily able to end the battle before it sucked too much life from him. After a moment of deliberation, Sirius decided that he could tough out the pain. The expensive medicine could be used for more dire situations, anyways.

The door opened again, letting a little bit of light in. Sirius slowly turned to see if it was a 'mon coming to congratulate him on his victory, ready to tell him a terse "thank you." He was too tired to go out drinking like he usually did after battles. Instead, though, he saw a skinny Latias enter. He looked at the ground again, her mere image activating all of the memories from yesterday.

Siria threw her bags on the top bunk and floated up to it, sitting cross-legged on her own bed. A painful silence filled the room as neither of them talked, both simply staring at something instead.

After five minutes, the Latias couldn't stand the tension any longer. "Sirius…" she started, not knowing whether he would answer or not.

The Latios shifted his position a bit, but didn't say even a word in return.

She had a hard time enunciating what she wanted to tell him. I want to say "I'm sorry" and just fix everything, but I can't just say that… it's just too simple. But how else would I say it?

Her mind went haywire as her lips seemed to move on their own accord. "Brother, I'm sorry!" she said, nearly shouting it as her voice forced its way past her protests.

Sirius started at this. It wasn't the words that caught his attention, but the sheer emotion behind them. Though his link, he could feel the sorrow pouring out of his sister. "What?" he croaked.

"I'm sorry for all of those things I said! I was so stupid! I just hate that you are what I'm not! Yeah, you live for fighting, and yeah, you're crazy, but at least you can actually do something in a situation! I knew you were trying to comfort me, but I just turned you away!" She bit her lip, unable to continue talking.

Siria felt the bed depress under her as her brother floated up and sat next to her. Last afternoon, she probably would have murdered him if he tried to even touch her, but all she wanted now was for him to hug her. She relaxed her body and laid her head on his shoulder. The Latios looked calmly at the red dragon as she cried softly. He was reminded strongly of the night when their father came home a drunken mess, completely distraught from their mother's death. After the upset Latios cussed Siria out for forty minutes in his alcohol-addled state, she had barged into his room and threw herself on his bed, crying hysterically and threatening to suicide. So Sirius did now what he did then: he wrapped his arms around her and brought her in close, patting her back. "It's gonna be all right, sis," he said. "Gonna be all right."

She hugged him back, bringing the two closer together. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, tears matting her downy cheeks.

"And I forgive you. Sure, I could be offended, but I've heard worse, and I know you didn't mean what you said. Now c'mon," he said as Siria looked up at him with surprise. "Are you going to let Shadrach or Levina see you this way, crying and all?"

"Idiot! Just for a few more minutes…" she pleaded.

Sirius sighed, knowing that there was no way out of it. He silently remained there, hugging and comforting the weeping Latias. The sound of a door opening caught his attention, causing him to widen his eyes at the sight of an Umbreon and an Ampharos outside. They did the same in response; even the normally disregarding, cheery Levina understood the solemnity of the situation. With a subtle gesture from Sirius, both of them closed the door and left the no-longer feuding dragons together.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Siria finally let go of Sirius. "Thank you," she said softly, looking up at him with glistening eyes. The Latias certainly felt a lot better after crying out whatever emotions she had.

The Latios smiled and responded, "No problem, Siria." Then, he paused for a second. "Did you hook up with Shadrach last night?" he abruptly asked.

"What?" the Latias squeaked.

"I could tell, even when you were sleeping. Don't worry, I didn't go looking your mind. You just exuded a sense of happiness anyone could have felt, and Shadrach went and got you back, so yeah, it was pretty easy to figure everything out."

"Well…" she trailed, looking down and blushing. Siria knew that she was in for a world of teasing if she admitted her relationship, but she didn't care so much anymore. "Yes."

The Latias expected her brother to make a snarky comment or something along those lines. However, she was surprised to see him pump his fist triumphantly in the air and laugh. "Sirius, what are you doing? Or do I not want to know…."

"Oh, no, it's nothing. It's just that I just netted half a month's worth of pay!"

"What do you mean by that?" Siria had a sneaking suspicion of exactly what he meant, though.

"I bet some of the Air Wing guys about when you two would actually start going out, and I nailed it on the he-"

SLAP.

The Latios wasn't sure if he should feel agony or happiness when he felt the hit. It had the vibrance and the life that his sister always had, nothing like the other one from yesterday.

Siria fumed at him as he stroked his cheek. "Of course you'd have no issue with gambling with my romantic life…." However, she couldn't help but let a smile come through her scowl as she saw the old Sirius finally come out from his previously morose shell.

A knock at the door attracted their attention before the Latias could abuse her brother even more. "Come in," she called.

Levina and Shadrach came in, the former carrying several boxes. "I assume that you two fixed everything up?" the Umbreon noted, seeing the two of them sitting on the bed together, happy expressions on their faces.

"Yeah, everything's good now. And, I'm now a lot richer, all thanks to-" His sister gave him an intimidating stare that quite possibly rivaled Colonel Lynch's. "Thanks to, err, the fight…. Yeah, the fight!" he repeated, getting off the bed before Siria could make him an "accidental" casualty.

"That's all good," Levina commented, dumping the boxes on her desk. "Oh, anyways, the DFAC cooks were so impressed with your performance that they baked you a cake! We told them that you were tired from the battle. Though you may also be tired from other things…." She looked at him, then at Siria. The latter gave her a scathing glare that was powerful enough to subdue even the oblivious Ampharos into busying herself with opening one of the boxes and taking out a few plates.

As Sirius helped her with the cake, Shadrach clambered up the ladder and sat next to Siria. "Feeling better?" he asked rhetorically. Anyone could sense her happiness from a kilometer away.

The Latias laughed. "I am, I am. Thanks to you, at least." She pecked him on the cheek, feeling far less bashful than before. He blushed heavily in response, but didn't shy away from the kiss either. Below, the blue dragon perked his ears, turning around to see her in the middle of the action. Then he turned back around when his sister gave him another freezing, piercing stare.

As Sirius engaged in some small talk with Levina to displace his fears about the very scary Latias, the red dragon grinned lazily and fell back on her cot, looking at the ceiling. Everything's normal again, just as it was before. A return to normalcy.

---

Trivia: Identify what year and what speaker coined the name of the chapter title. Bonus: Identify what the name regarded.

(sorry non-Americans who haven't studied US history might not get this D:)