Dr. Joan Dillinger used her compact mirror to inspect her freshly bandaged nose. She looked absurd, her face crisscrossed with white tape, purple bruises blossoming under her eyes. But she supposed she had to give credit to Captain Pollard for patching her up. Of course, it would be much easier to be grateful to him if he weren't such a pompous, showboating ass.

As if he'd read her thoughts, his face appeared behind hers in the mirror. "Orange suits you, Joan."

It took her a moment to register what he meant. She looked down at the raggedy orange coat she'd confiscated from Blanche, assuming something that fluffy had to have a dozen hidden pockets to be searched. All she'd found was a candy bar wrapper. "It's cold in here. One of my scientists found it in the rubble. I didn't want it to go to waste."

"You mean one of my scientists," Captain Pollard corrected.

Dr. Dillinger smiled at him, even though it made her nose throb. He was winding her up. She recognized that face he wore when he knew something she didn't. She hated how he stood there, his thumbs in the pockets of his vintage doublet, his bright smile a sharp contrast to the wet-clay-brown of his skin. He was young and cocky and handsome, and Dr. Dillinger contemplated punching him in his pretty face.

"I know you're dying to elaborate," she grumbled, clicking her compact closed.

"Maybe you don't remember, considering I carried your unconscious body through the door, but we've officially transitioned from the research stage to the exploratory stage. Exploration is my division. Your scientists are now my scientists. In fact, since I'm your superior officer, they've technically been mine all along," Pollard explained.

"Well, they report to me, and they weren't even meant to participate in the exploration. But we're all here now, in yet another miserable cave, so congratulations, 'superior officer,' you get to be the big man on campus. Can we end the pissing contest and move on?" Dr. Dillinger snapped.

Pollard chuckled. "What happened to your cloying sweetness, Joan? I miss how you called me 'Sir' on the communicator. Still cranky that your part of the project went FUBAR?"

Dr. Dillinger jammed her hands into the pockets of the giant coat to hide her shaking fists. "It did not go FUBAR. I opened the door, didn't I? You and your lackeys barely arrived on time. You lot should be thanking me."

"Sure, you opened the door, and allowed it to get out of control, and lost your lead pokémon and the legendary birds and the key and the three people who are still quite likely vital to the success of this mission, not to mention our escape," Pollard listed, walking in a circle around her, like a predator about to strike. "Honestly, it's astounding you didn't kill them before they reached the throne room. For all we know, they didn't survive the portal. We couldn't find them when we landed, after all."

Dr. Dillinger jumped on the opportunity to demonstrate her competence. "I have a theory about that, by the way. We're missing some of our people too, and I doubt it's because they managed to escape the pull of the door. I think the door was designed to open to various locations, and due to its instability at the time of our passage, certain people were separated and deposited in different areas."

"Gold star idea, Joan," Pollard said, pouting his lips in mock appreciation. "Any leads on where those areas are? Because my scouts tell me this hallway just keeps going and going, without a soul in sight."

Dr. Dillinger couldn't deny the bleakness of their situation. The hallway was wide and dark, illuminated by a scattering of crystals and the harsh white light of Pollard's expeditionary lanterns. His explorers and Dillinger's scientists (because, damn it, they were still hers) huddled around the lanterns as if they were fires, bandaging scraped limbs, prying open metal cans of food. Dillinger supposed she should again be grateful that Captain Pollard was so prepared for the exploration. He and his team had managed to bring food, light, bedding, and other essentials through the door, despite the chaos.

"Isn't it your job to be prepared for anything?" Dr. Dillinger goaded. "Look, the records we found suggest that the society from the stone door sealed itself away deep under the Akanoir mountains, which is where we appear to be. Beyond that, our intel is fairly limited."

Pollard scoffed. "Limited? Haven't you been studying this hellhole for years? How is it that you don't know anything about the other side of the door that you've been trying to open?"

Dr. Dillinger bristled, but kept her voice neutral. "Think about it, Captain. Everything we found was almost certainly intended as a warning to those on the outside. They didn't want anyone following them in. Do you really think they'd have wanted to leave us a map?"

"Ah, Joanie, then why would they leave us a key?" Pollard asked.

"It's Dr. Dillinger. I refer to you as Captain. Please return the courtesy and address me by my title," Dr. Dillinger said.

"Whatever you say, Doc," Pollard said, shrugging innocently. "I know you didn't expect to be part of the expedition, but that's what's happening. You're the closest thing I have to an expert. I need you to give me everything you've got. I'm no scientist, but I know all those tablets and murals didn't just show up overnight. These people – who really ought to be named, don't you think? – they had to have spent years creating those warnings. You said that the three royals went mad and some kind of sickness swept through the population."

Dillinger tilted her hand side-to-side. "It's a little more nuanced than that."

Pollard turned on his heel directly in front of her. He was such a tall, gangly man that it made Dillinger's neck stiff to look up at him. "That's why I'm talking to you about it, 'expert.' Whatever crisis drove them underground must have been gradual enough to have given them some prep time. Maybe they didn't leave behind a map, but they did leave a key and the legendary birds. What does that tell you?"

"That they didn't intend to stay sealed forever. That they expected their royals to be reincarnated in one form or another in order to rescue them," Dr. Dillinger said.

"So, they planned to survive down here until that day," Pollard extrapolated.

Dr. Dillinger walked away from him to give herself a chance to rest her neck. "Yes, but that would be impossible. Look at this place. Cold, dark, and lifeless. Not so much as a zubat. We'll be lucky to find skeletons intact enough for study."

Shouts echoed from down the hall, causing the clumps of Rocket grunts to stir and stand for a better view of the commotion. Dr. Dillinger squinted past the glare of lanterns at the trio of scouts rushing back into camp from the depths of the passage. Even in the darkness and from a distance, she could see the whites of their eyes.

"Something's down here!" one of them cried.

"What kind of something?" Pollard called to the one who'd spoken up.

"I d-don't know!" the grunt replied. "A monster! It was a monster!"

Captain Pollard grinned at Dr. Dillinger. "That's the trouble with you science types. Always too quick to dismiss the impossible."

§

AN: Useless OC trivia: Captain Jay Pollard totally played clarinet in his high school marching band. Back to the team leaders next time!