Chapter 22 – Departures

Everyone had suspected that it was in the works, but no one had expected it to actually happen. When the newscaster read it out loud, even she seemed surprised at what she had just said. Port control had been buzzing with excited murmurs about it the whole day, so the evening bulletin's content was indeed a surprise.

You may be wondering just what the whole fuss was all about. Well, to put it simply and spare you the suspense, the news involved the re-legalisation of pokemon training.

"In a surprise move this morning, the government has decided to legalize pokemon training once again," read the newscaster, clad in her usual red suit and cheap costume jewelry. "Not even twelve hours ago, Grand Admirals Datamon, Jonathan Treacher, and Kingsley Desjardins issued a press statement that made training officially a legal option for the masses. This is the first time that the government has done so since the revolution, and no further statements have been issued as of the present."

Needless to say, most of the senior employees at port control were rather excited by the announcement – and not all in a good way. Generals Kylie and Claire were both ambivalent about the news, whereas my boss' good friends, General Fen and General Maine, were rather opposed to the whole idea of it.

Somehow, General Harding seemed rather supportive of the government's latest move.

"Isn't it a bit much, sir?" I asked him pointedly. "You did mention that most trainers were grossly negligent and incompetent."

"I did?" he seemed amused by my claims.

"Yes sir, you did," I nodded. "You did so several times, in fact."

He shrugged. "Ah, well – just have to look at it from a different angle, kid. Maybe now the masses can be armed against the terrorist threat, and the people in the Underground could actually see the light of day again."

I hesitated for a moment at the thought of the Underground's unruly mob of pokemon trainers being unleashed upon the world. "Don't most of them have outstanding arrest warrants? Dolph has a shoot on sight one, I believe."

"Eh, details," sniffed General Harding, propping his feet up on his desk, smudging the ink on his paperwork. "Whatever you think about it, though, the government's going ahead with this. Thankfully, they're using their brains on this one."

"Oh?" I asked him, my curiosity piqued – he tended to withhold little things during conversations to try and shock me, I noticed. "And just how are they going to make it different from the olden days, then?"

He smirked. "Remember how you had to go to Lorelei for a type consultation? Well, not everyone out there's going to have an affinity, but their compatibility and competency with a starter is going to be assessed before they're given a training license.

"And the best part about the whole business? We'll be the ones conducting the assessments."

That certainly got me off-guard. So it seemed that the government was going to make it possible for your typical person on the street to pick up training, but only after the military had had a say in the matter. Of course, the ultimate question was whether they'd force the assessments to be skewed in directions they wanted...

Only then did a thought strike me like a lightning bolt. "Wait, you said we'll be conducting the assessments on the training applicants."

"That is correct," he nodded, toying with his Rubik cube – the poor thing had been scrambled for the last five years, according to him.

"Does that include a psychological assessment?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. "I have a sneaking suspicion that you'd be prying into their thoughts using psychics if the answer is yes."

General Harding merely shrugged, though his eyes gave me the impression that he was agreeing with me. "No idea, kid."

xxx

I'm sure you'd agree that the whole day had been a rather exciting affair. But of course, things didn't settle down after that – that would have probably violated the laws of karma or something. Obviously, things only became even more interesting after we'd received the announcement on the reinstating of pokemon training for non-military personnel.

And by that, what I meant to say was that Ford the ariados turned up out of nowhere.

General Harding and I had just been about to clock out for the day, when Persiamon came bounding into his office. She looked as if she'd just run a marathon, what with her hackles all being raised and her veils being in complete disarray.

"He's back!" she trilled, sounding as if she was torn between breaking down in sobs of relief and punching a hole in the ceiling out of sheer jubilation.

"Who's back, you say?" General Harding asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ford!" Persiamon replied, looking as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well, what are you two dunces staring at? Come and help me retrieve him!"

"Wait, retrieve him?" I echoed, wondering just how and where he'd popped up. "Just where the hell did he appear? The vents?"

She shook her head, but was so excited that she ended up shaking her entire body like one of those spring-loaded dashboard ornaments. "He's down at the docks, near the power plant!"

That certainly got General Harding's attention. "What? That's dangerous! Lead the way, Persiamon!"

The feline digimon certainly didn't need to be told twice – she dashed out of the office light a speeding blur, leaving the two of us behind. We ran out after her, not even clocking out in our haste to catch up with her before she jumped out of a window or something, thanks to her excitement.

When we finally got down to the docks – deserted since the working day had ended about an hour ago – she was peering frantically down one of the ladders that led to the submerged parts of the docks' power plants. The power plants may have been built on the docks themselves to supply the machinery there, but most of the components which needed continuous cooling were submerged. Really, the engineering behind it all was quite elegant, as I was told – I myself loathed physics, to be quite honest.

"He's down there!" she said, pawing at her braided hair in dismay. "And I don't think I can make it down there safely to get him... Castor can't do it, either!"

The two of us – General Harding and I, that is – took a look down the ladder shaft, and saw that Ford was just barely visible in the near-darkness beneath the docks. He was apparently unconscious, and lay snugly in the junction between two beams that had been welded together, right over a humming tank that probably contained something really deadly, if the high-voltage labels were anything to go by.

"I'll be damned," General Harding whistled. "How'd you find him here?"

"One of the dock workers told me," she answered, still looking down the shaft. "Wild ariados don't appear within miles of Canalave, and he's the only one reported missing, so..."

"Can't Lawrence get him?" he asked her, furrowing his brow in thought. "He's capable of teleportation, right?"

Persiamon shook her head. "Lawrence needs a wide, flat landing space. If he tried to get down there, he'd probably end up falling between the beams."

"We'll have to get Adrienne to do this, then," my commanding officer nodded. "I'm surprised that no one from the docks tried to fish him out, though."

"They didn't notice him until just about three minutes before I'd gone to you guys," she said, as he let Adrienne out of her pokeball. "And there were no psychics among their teams."

"No matter, it's solved now," Adrienne said, as Ford the ariados soared up and out of his resting spot, still unconscious. Once he got closer, I saw that his eight legs hung limply from his body like strands of seaweed, and his fur seemed to be missing in small patches, as if it had been burned off. "Goodness, he's hurt!"

"Put him here, Adrienne," General Harding said, taking his hoodie off and gesturing for me to help him spread it out on the ground. "Careful once he's on it, kid – we don't know if he's got any internal injuries."

We gingerly picked him up, and were whisked off to the medical bay by Adrienne in the blink of an eye. The room's lights had been dimmed, and no one seemed to be in. Persiamon, though, wouldn't have any of it.

"Doctor Esther!" she cried, slamming her tail down on a steel gurney. "Doctor Esther!"

"Someone called for me?" Doctor Esther's voice spoke up from behind us, making us jump and nearly causing us to drop Ford. "What's this about?"

"It's my ariados!" Persiamon said, even as everyone's favourite lunatic doctor stepped up to examine our precious cargo. "He's finally back, but someone hurt him!"

Doctor Esther immediately lifted Ford off General Harding's hoodie with a surprisingly delicate grip, and placed him on a nearby examination table. "Well, if it isn't the little ariados that went missing. Where'd he turn up?"

"The docks," General Harding said, as he tied his hoodie around his waist. "Anyways, should we leave or something?"

"You do that – I could do with a less crowded working space," Doctor Esther nodded. "Persiamon can stay if she wants, but it's all quite straightforward, really. I'll call for you if anything of significance occurs, but otherwise, he's safe here."

"Alright, then," my boss nudged Persiamon. "Are you coming with us, Persiamon?"

She seemed torn between wanting to stay with her pokemon and giving Doctor Esther a wide berth. "I think I'll wait outside, at the sofas."

"Take it easy, girl," he said, patting her shoulder as he headed for the door. "Don't worry about it – Ford's in good hands."

"Out, now," snapped Doctor Esther, as she began using a stethoscope on Ford's abdomen.

As we left, so did Persiamon. However, I thought I heard something as I passed port control's chief medical officer. When the meaning of the apparent words sank in, I became more confused than I had been when I'd first seen Ford down the ladder shaft.

I swear, it almost sounded as if she was saying something to herself that sounded quite like, "What the hell was Aaron thinking?"

xxx

"Sir, could I ask you a question?" I said to General Harding as we finally left port control.

"Depends on whether it involves embarrassing situations or classified information, like my genitalia," he replied with a bemused smirk. "Seriously, you should know me better than that by now."

I blinked noctowlishly at that. "Well, if you say so, then. Isn't Aaron Harrison dead?"

He stopped walking for a moment, and rubbed his chin in thought. "Aaron Harrison... hmm, was he the former bug specialist, green hair, very fond of jeans and anything sleeveless?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's one of the few who... went missing after the revolution," General Harding frowned. "What makes you ask?"

"Well..." I then told him about what I thought I'd heard Doctor Esther had muttered to herself back at the medical bay. If anything, his frown seemed to widen even more as I mentioned the purple-haired doctor's apparent involvement with a missing man who'd once been a league member.

"Just... Aaron's most likely to be dead, kid," my boss said, after some deliberation. "If he was still alive, there would probably be a warrant out for him, anyways. Given his affinity for bugs and the sheer number he had on him back in the day... well, I don't think that the digimon would've let him live."

I nodded, since what he said did make sense to an extent... but still, the whole thing seemed a tad suspicious. "Right... but what do you think she was on about, then?"

"No idea, kid – might have been something medical for all you know," he shrugged. "Maybe it was the name of a drug or something like that."

With a hesitant nod, I followed him to the diner where he'd taken Silas and I for our first meal together. However, I couldn't really shake off the feeling that I was missing something. Couple that with the fact that I'd had some suspicious dreams and headaches within the last three days and well... you'd probably understand why I was so on edge.

xxx

As usual, the food at the old greasy spoon – run by a crazy old pervert named Seeny Mohammad – was great. Silas got to eat his favourite dish of raw fish slices, whereas I had my spicy noodles and General Harding had his obscenely spicy fried rice. We saw General Fen sitting in a corner, munching on a meatloaf sandwich, and he merely raised an eyebrow when my boss flipped him off as a sign of greeting.

Ironically, General Fen was the only Asian among us, and he seemed to absolutely despise rice and noodles of any sort. Hell, even Silas seemed to be fond of the aforementioned carbohydrate overdoses, but port control's resident general with the obsessive-compulsive disorder seemed to keep his distance from them.

"So, I was thinking, I could use a vacation," General Harding suddenly said. "And so could you, for the matter."

"Oh?" I looked up from my noodles curiously. "What makes you say that?"

He swallowed his mouthful of rice, and leaned back in his seat. "Well, I haven't been back to see my folks in ages – and that's all the way from before you came into the picture. So it's been maybe a year? Or maybe a month or two added to that."

"Not that part, sir," I shook my head. "I meant why you said I needed a vacation."

"Well, you've been a hardworking little bastard," he laughed. "Time you took some time off and enjoyed life a little."

"What?" I sputtered. "I- I'm not a hardworking bastard!"

"You totally are, bitch," Silas chimed in happily, the traitor.

"Silas is right!" declared General Harding triumphantly. "When you came, you were all skin and bones, but hot damn, you have abs now! And several other rather aesthetically-pleasing bits of muscle definition, but that's not the main point here – the point is that you need a break from the madness that is military life.

"Which is why, starting tomorrow, you're on a week's leave."

I gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not – didn't you wonder why the paperwork workload became so fucking insane this week?" he said smugly. "Whatever can be delayed, I delayed, and whatever needed to be done has been settled."

"Well, I'll be damned!" I gawked at Silas, not knowing where else to look (and not wanting to see my boss' undoubtedly amused take at my facial expression).

"However, since I don't trust you to spend your leave wisely, the first four days of it will be spent tagging along while I visit the folks back at home."

"Wait, what?" I asked him, surprised by that last statement. "You're taking me to Sootopolis?"

He nodded, adding some more chilli into his rice. "Yes indeed. I believe it would do you a power of good to get out of Sinnoh, even if it's only to visit a city on a foreign continent. Plus, Sootopolis is one of the natural wonders of Gaia – everyone should visit it at least once in their lifetime."

"That's what they said about Snowpoint," I said. "There wasn't much to see aside from some weird-ass experiments over there, though."

"Ah, that's where you're sadly mistaken," he smirked, as he sipped from his cup of coffee. "Snowpoint's nothing much to look at, but it was something back in the day. The thing is, Sootopolis is still pretty much as it used to be."

"Still, sir, I don't think I'd be comfortable just dropping in on your family like that," I pointed out. "I'd feel horrible for doing that."

"Oh, I'm sure. That's why I got us both one week of leave – you'll be spending the last three days of it back with your parents in Jubilife."

"What?" I all but shrieked, drawing several surprised looks from the diner's other patrons. "And just what are you turds looking at?"

"I've called your mother," General Harding said, having the nerve to look smug about it. "She's very happy that you'll be going home for those three days, and says that she'll keep your father from disowning you."

"Sir," I hissed through grated teeth, "I don't want to go home, as much as I do appreciate the leave."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

I let out a relieved sigh. "Thanks, sir."

"Not so fast, kid – you've just made it necessary for me to abuse my rank."

"Well, fuck!"

"I hereby order you to accompany me to Sootopolis, and then to spend three days with your parents in Jubilife," he said with his usual shit-eating grin. You know the type I'm talking about – it was the one he plastered on his face when he was making sure someone else was getting thoroughly and utterly fucked.

"But you can't do that!" I said, almost sounding desperate. "That's an abuse of power!"

"Oh, I could worm my way out of trouble, but you're not quite as good at that," he drawled, nudging Silas. "Am I right, Silas?"

"Alas, the bastard's right," my starter said, blowing a raspberry at him. "Trainer, you're fucked. And not in the nice way involving a hunk giving your ass a pounding."

There came a sound like a miniature thunderclap, followed by a sharp pain at the back my head and a ringing in my ears. When my vision stopped spinning, I saw no one save for an old lady standing next to me, with a venomous expression on her face.

"You vulgar thing!" she pointed at Silas. "Young man, is that not your shellder?"

"Yes he is, ma'am," I nodded, rubbing the back of my head and wondering just how she'd known what he was saying. "Though I must say, that slap was most uncalled for."

"You ought to teach him some manners!"

"Tell the old crone to shut it," Silas said haughtily.

"This old crone is an electivire trainer with the bomb squad, you impertinent mollusc!" she snapped, pointing a bony finger at him. "I can understand every word that leaves your stinking sewer, shellder!"

"Well, that sucks," my shellder said in a bored tone. "Trainer, she needs a good fucking. Maybe you should oblige her."

"Why, I never..." she fumed, looking like a typhlosion about to use an Eruption attack. "Take this, you rude little whelp!"

Once again, she slapped me upside the head, causing me to see stars this time. As I reeled from the force of the blow, she stalked off towards the counter, presumably to settle her bill and get away from the profane shellder that had ruined her evening.

I rubbed the back of my head, and glared at Silas. "What the fuck was that about?"

He merely sniggered, and blew a raspberry at me. Giving up on glaring at him after a few seconds, I turned to General Harding instead. "And just why did that uptight old witch seem so familiar?"

"Familiar?" he echoed, bug-eyed. "She's Moira Hew's good buddy, kid – the same one you saw attacking and subsequently molesting that stripper with dear old Moira at the Cock Pit."

"Well, fuck me!" I grumbled. "Silas is the rude one, and I'm the one who got hit twice."

General Harding just laughed at me, the bastard – I really hoped that he got a persistent crotch itch in his sleep later. And don't even get me started on Silas.

The two of them might have been good friends to have around on a regular basis, but sometimes I did wonder if my sanity was being eroded by their mere presence.

xxx

When Silas and I got back to the hostel, we ran into a minor dilemma. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that I ran into the dilemma, and that it was pretty fucking major for a bit.

"Jeez, what the hell am I going to pack?" I wondered aloud – my wardrobe's array of civilian attire was severely limited. Hell, my wardrobe consisted of not more than ten pairs of clothes, and that included my two sets of uniforms and physical training gear.

"You could go naked in Zachary's house, maybe," Silas suggested with a laugh. "I'm sure he'd enjoy the view."

"Hell to the no!"

"Well, what else can you do about it? It's too late to get any clothes, and I don't think you've got any swimwear."

I stared at him. "Did you just say 'swimwear'?"

"Sootopolis is by the sea, you twit! Obviously you'd need swimwear to go on vacation there," Silas huffed. "Unless you're into skinny dipping – a squirtle might latch onto your dick, though. That is assuming of course, that your dick is not woefully under-sized."

"Watch it," I growled, smacking him on his shell. "I think I'll avoid swimming during my vacation all the same, thank you very much."

After a short period of packing – well, six sets of clothes didn't take long to pack – I finally found myself lying down in bed, with Silas on my stomach as always. His shell felt a little colder than it normally did, though.

"So tell me, Trainer," he said absently. "What are your folks like?"

"Eh?" I asked, half asleep – I couldn't understand why he always started conversations just about when I was nodding off.

"Your mother and father, that is? How are they like?"

I thought about it for a bit. "Well... mom's always been a worrywart. And dad's more of a workaholic, so I didn't see much of him when I was growing up."

"Sounds like a lovely family," Silas said, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. "No wonder you've turned out so wonderfully."

"We can't all have what we want, Silas. All I wanted back then was to go out and be a pokemon trainer just like all the other kids," I told him softly, though whether the soft tone was due to drowsiness or wistfulness, I couldn't say. "Instead, I went to high school, finished that, and ran away to join the army."

"You should have joined the circus instead," he snorted. "Given your alarming tendency to be clumsy, that may have been safer than any occupation involving firearms."

"Maybe, but whatever," I mumbled, a verse of long-forgotten high school English class suddenly popping into my mind. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I... I took the road less travelled by, and that has made all the difference."

For a short while, he remained silent, before speaking up again. However, this time his voice held a note of surprise in it. "That almost sounded poetic, Trainer."

"It was one of Robert Frost's poems," I told him sleepily. "It was called 'The Road Not Taken', I think... Yes, that's the one."

"Huh. Never knew you had such a sentimental bent in you."

"Goodnight, Silas."

"... Goodnight, Trainer."

xxx

The very first thing I noticed when the ground beneath my feet had stopped shifting was that the air smelled like the sea.

Don't get me wrong, Canalave smelt a lot like the sea, but this smell was... nothing less than the purest ocean breeze. It was untainted by the industrialization that had decimated the shoreline at Canalave, and seemed to blow about the coast with a lazy sort of force. I took several deep breaths of the salty sea breeze, feeling an odd sense of contentment settling down over me.

Up ahead, not fifty feet away, the cone of a gigantic volcano rose out of the rocky coastal ground like a colossal shrine to the gods. Several openings were visible all over its slopes, and small buildings studded the solid rock on its sides like a sableye's gems. Part of the volcano's base was submerged, causing the waves to break into explosions of white sea-foam as they hit it.

General Harding's jellicent shuddered and slipped into the water, its bloated body deflating and flattening out as it submerged itself beneath the green waves. Within seconds, the massive aquatic ghost pokemon had vanished into the ocean's depths, where it would make its way into Sootopolis through the underwater caverns that led into the volcano itself.

I bit back a shiver as I watched it disappear, since being teleported by a ghost was... different than being teleported by a psychic. Or maybe it was just the jellicent – its species was renowned for their life-draining skill, after all. Heck, I don't even think it was teleportation or a Shadow Sneak, since jellicent weren't known to be capable of using either move.

Guess only the gods knew what it had done to help us hop between the continents.

"Good, we made it in excellent time!" General Harding declared happily, looking perfectly comical in his cargo pants, pink tank top - with a caricatured penis on it - and aviator sunglasses. "Come on, kid!"

For the record, I was definitely not checking him out in that body-hugging tank top right then, thank you very much.

"Why did we have to stop outside here, again?" I asked, as we plodded along the rocky ground towards a large opening in the side of the volcano that resembled a cave of some sort.

"Well, security measures, kid. Ah, good – the gate's already open!" he said, as we came within twenty feet of the entrance. "Oi, is anyone there?"

A quagsire's head popped up from behind a boulder near the entrance as soon as he shouted at the apparently unguarded opening. The water fish pokemon let out a hoot that carried across the barren landscape, startling a flock of wingull that had been pecking about some rocks near it. Even as the bird pokemon took to the air with a whole lot of raucous squawking, a tanned woman with coppery hair appeared next to the quagsire, accompanied by a starmie.

"So, General Harding!" she called out, grinning widely. "Back from the dead, huh!"

"Nice to meet you too," he smirked. "I trust we're cool for entry?"

"Indeed – and nice shirt," she laughed, gesturing for us to follow her. The quagsire went back to leaning against the rock and twiddling its stubby fingers, offering us a wave as we passed it.

We entered the rocky cave leading into the volcano that was Sootopolis, and I saw for myself how thick the volcano's walls were – the tunnel we were in was long enough to have lanterns illuminating its middle portion, and the exit was probably more than a hundred feet ahead of us. Behind us, a grinding sound could be heard as the tunnel's blast door sealed itself, sliding out of the rocky slopes where it had been concealed.

Once we cleared the tunnel, though, I felt my jaw drop in awe.

The rim of the volcano was so high above us that its opening was but a tiny circle of light, and the walls of the volcano were criss-crossed with stairways and dotted with buildings set into the rock. Down at our level, the sea had made its way into the city, and was lapping lazily at the sandy shores within the dormant volcano. Numerous buildings and even a colossal shrine were visible along the shores, all built on sturdy-looking pillars – probably in case of flooding.

General Harding and our female guide laughed at my expression of wonder. "Welcome to Sootopolis, kid!"