Chapter 4: Reunions
The sky above Azure Bay was a beautiful deep blue. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky above the salty ocean which had a faint green hue. Swimmers basked on the beaches of the various islands populating the bay or enjoyed the cool water in the ocean. Suddenly the peace was shattered by a loud, aggressive roar. 18 faint gray shapes appeared in the sky out of nowhere. They were shaped like small planes, but they were sleek and fast, faster than any civilian aircraft. Oceangoers stared and pointed up at the planes, shaped in a large spread-out V-shape. Far behind them was a more regular-looking aircraft, shaped like a passenger jet that was following the military planes.
The lead pilot of the F-15C fighters looked around with confusion. "'Cowboy,' this is 'Dragonfly.' Wasn't the exercise going to be over the open ocean? Why are we heading towards land?" Dragonfly asked into his radio.
"'Dragonfly' this is 'Cowboy,' we are looking into it," the Fighter Allocator, a woman named Rachel Blackwood replied from the AWACS plane following the formation.
"With all due respect," another male pilot chipped in somewhat irately, "did anyone else just see a sudden flash of light? It's like we teleported or something because this does not look like the Pacific Ocean anymore. It's too green."
"'Hammerhead' here, 'Aurora' is right, this isn't the Pacific anymore," Hammerhead, a female pilot, replied.
"We don't understand what's happened yet, please stand by." FA Blackwood replied. She continued overlooking her screens and control panels just as she was about to radio to the Tactical Director. But she stopped when, at the edge of her radar, a small green dot appeared. "All elements, be aware of a possibly hostile object, based on its radar attributes, it looks to be a drone, likely an MQ-9. Do not respond unless provoked"
"That's odd, I don't think any MQ-9s were part of today's exercises," 'Dragonfly' said.
"There weren't," 'Aurora' replied.
FA Blackwood typed quickly on her keyboard as she communicated with the drone to establish its identity. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice spoke on her radio, "Callsign 'Cowboy,' this is E-3 Sentry 'Magic' of the 606th Air Control Squadron operating the MQ-9 drone you contacted, callsign 'Reaper.' We assume you have been teleported as well?" 'Magic' asked.
The 606th Air Control Squadron? FA Blackwood thought with confusion, but they're based out of Germany. What's going on?
"AWACS Magic do you mean to say we have been teleported from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean? Where are we currently located?" the Tactical Director of Cowboy, Colonel Daniel Nguyen, replied.
"It does look like it, but this is not the Atlantic either. We've lost connection with our GPS and location systems. Thankfully we are still connected to our base, but they are not located in Germany anymore. Do you have either?" AWACS Magic asked.
"We'll look into it." Nguyen glanced through his systems before changing his radio frequency. "Kadena Tower, this is AWACS Cowboy, please respond," he requested.
"AWACS Cowboy, this is Kadena Tower, what is your request?" a male operator replied.
"What is our current location?" Nguyen asked.
A moment of silence followed that seemed to drag on. "We do not know," the operator replied.
"Are you still located in Okinawa?" Nguyen asked. That's a dumb question, of course they are… he thought.
"Negative…" the operator replied.
"What?" Nguyen said in confusion, "did the airbase suddenly move across the world?"
"We're not sure where we are, but it is not Okinawa. We're now in some sort of badlands," Kadena Tower replied.
Nguyen raised an eyebrow. "Affirmative… we have contact with a drone operator from the 606th Air Control Squadron, they do not know where they are either, but it is not the Atlantic Ocean or Germany anymore," he reported.
"Understood, return to base ASAP. A radar beacon has been deployed to guide you back." Kadena Tower replied.
"Affirmative," Nguyen replied.
"All elements, return to Kadena Air Base. A radar beacon has been deployed to guide us back." FA Blackwood directed.
The aircraft turned to align themselves with the blip. Just as they finished, another unknown radio signal connected to them. "Attention unidentified aircraft, this is Kalosian Self-Defense Air Force Coastal Air Force, you are entering Kalosian airbase without permission, identify yourself and your intent, or turn around immediately."
Kalosian airspace? I'm not the best at geography, but I have never heard of Kalos before… he thought momentarily. "This is AWACS Cowboy of the United States Air Force Pacific Air Forces 961st Airborne Air Control Squadron attached to the 67th Fighter Squadron. We are following our radar beacon to Kadena Air Base, our home base. Our intentions are peaceful," he replied.
"Affirmative AWACS Cowboy, the 1st Fighter Squadron of the Coastal Kalos Air Force is en route to escort you to the Kadena Air Base," the Coastal Squadron ground operator informed.
"Understood," Nguyen replied
"All elements, be advised we will be receiving an escort from the 1st Fighter Squadron of the Coastal Kalos Air Force to our air base. Do not attack unless provoked," FA Blackwood informed.
"AWACS Magic, we are returning to Kadena Air Base and have been contacted by the 'Kalosian Self-Defense Air Force.' Have you been contacted as well?" Nguyen asked.
"Affirmative, we have just been contacted by them. Returning to base as well," AWACS Magic replied.
"Understood," Nguyen replied. As the squadron flew over the land the beaches turned into coastal plains that stretched for miles into the distance. Nguyen rested his chin on his left hand and thought deeply about what was happening. So, we've been taken to this… Kalos place with our bases. How could something like this happen and why? What is going on?
Lieutenant General Lesly Hammond raised a plain white phone to his ear. He was a tall, imposing man with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes that were nearly black. His head was somewhat square shaped and his complexion was rough. If someone were asked to imagine a stereotypical military general, he would be it. One of his staff entered the room and handed him a manilla folder after a stiff salute. "Here is the current report on the units transported to our area with us and our current inventory, as you requested sir," he said as he passed over the folder.
"Thank you, dismissed," Hammond replied, taking the folder and setting it on his desk. He flipped it open and read through it quickly. The Facilities of Marine Corps Base Camp Smedley D. Butler, Kadena Air Base, and Spangdahlem Air Base all were transported here and whoever brought us here had the consideration to connect us to the local utilities… how nice, he thought dryly, 24 Grippen Cs and 2 NH90s from the Swedish Norrbotten Wing, the 18th Wing from Kadena, 52nd Fighter Wing from Spangdahlem and their support groups, 606th Air Control Squadron, III Marine Expeditionary Force, and all inventories at Butler, Kadena, and Spangdahlem are full…
His thoughts were interrupted when his phone started to ring. He grabbed the phone with a hint of annoyance and raised it to his air. "Lieutenant General Hammond speaking," he greeted dryly.
"Sir, we have a situation at our perimeter. Another unit arrived. They're speaking a foreign language, but it looks like they are requesting access," the caller reported.
"Put their representative on the phone," Hammond ordered.
"Understood sir." There was a moment of silence while the call was transferred over.
"Вітаю, я полковник Попов 93-ї механізованої бригади України. Ми просимо притулку на вашій базі," a man with a thick slavic accent.
What in the world? Is that Russian or something? Hammond thought, no, I think I heard Ukraine or something… are they Ukrainian? "Uh, English?" he asked.
"Ах, англійська? Так," the man said before handing the phone back to the soldier at the checkpoint.
At the checkpoint, the foreign soldier left the booth while the soldier manning the checkpoint office raised the phone to his ear. "Sir, I believe the representative has left to find someone who can speak English," he reported.
"I see…" Hammond replied, rapidly tapping his desk impatiently.
When the representative returned, he returned with another young soldier and gestured for the American soldier to hand the phone to him.
"This is the base commander, right?" the English-speaking soldier asked.
"Yes, I am Lieutenant General Lesly Hammond of the United States Marine Corps, base commander of Kadena Air Base. Who are you and what is your request."
"We are the 93rd Mechanized Brigade of the Ukrainian Armed Forces. We seem to have been transported away from our homeland to this desert. Would you please allow us to stay at your base until we can find our way back to Ukraine? We have no more water and not much fuel left," the soldier requested.
"How many are with you?" Hammond asked.
"1,560 men, 120 BMP-2 infantry fighting vehicles, two 2S1 self-propelled guns, and three T-64 tanks," the Ukrainian soldier answered.
Hammond looked over his papers momentarily. "We won't be able to house you all in the base, but we'll let you set up an encampment here. We've got enough space for tents and we've got water and food. Then we'll figure something out for the long term," he answered.
There was a moment of silence as the English-speaking Ukrainian spoke with his commanding officer before relaying the information. "Thank you very much, Lieutenant General. We are very grateful for your help. If there is anything the 93rd can do for you or your men, just let us know and it will be done," he said.
"You're welcome, please leave your weapons in your vehicles and we will keep them in a secure area. We wouldn't want an accident to occur," Hammond directed. He disconnected the call before dialing his fellow Lieutenant General and commander of the III Marine Expeditionary Force and base commander of Marine Camp Butler.
"Lieutenant General Robert Courtney speaking," the man stated as the call connected.
"Robert, this is Lesly. We've taken in another unit that was transported, this time a ground unit from Ukraine, the 93rd Mechanized Brigade, roughly 1500 men and 125 heavy vehicles. The vehicles and weapons will be forfeited and secured. Please make sure they stick to that commitment. Also, make sure that food and water are delivered to them, they're out of supplies it seems," he explained.
"Alright, we'll make sure everything is taken care of. Will that be all?" Lieutenant General Courtney responded.
"It will, I'll call you again if any more units appear," Hammond said before disconnecting the call. He sighed and rubbed his eyes before looking up at the clock. It was barely one in the afternoon.
"This is Dragonfly reporting in, we've got fighters approaching ahead, are they our escorts?" Dragonfly asked.
"Affirmative, those are fighters of the 1st Fighter Squadron of the Coastal Kalos Air Force that will be escorting us to Kadena Air Base," FA Blackwood replied.
As the small silver fighters passed under the F-15C, Aurora caught a good look at them and snorted loudly. "Those things are our escorts? They look ancient!" he jabbed.
The escort fighters turned around and slowly caught up to the formation. But even after the F-15Cs and E-3 Sentry slowed down, the escorts barely caught up to them. "This is KSDAF-CAF First Squadron callsign 'Checkmate,' we'll be escorting you back to your air base," the lead fighter explained.
"What generation of fighter is that? First gen?" Aurora asked, "you guys can barely keep up."
"I don't know what you mean by generation. This is the first and only jet fighter in service in the KSDAF," Checkmate replied. The fighter had a sleek, streamlined fuselage with a single-seat cockpit positioned toward the front. The mid-mounted wings had a straight, slightly swept-back design and a conventional tail configuration with round exhaust outlets under it. The cockpit had a semi-bubble canopy situated close to the nose and connected to the top of the tail. It looked like a WW2 fighter with jet engines mashed into the fuselage.
"Clearly, it looks like it was developed in the 40s," Aurora insulted.
"Aurora that's enough," FA Blackwood scolded, "my apologies for Aurora's behavior, Checkmate."
"No worries, nobody takes the KSDF seriously anyway so you get used to it," Checkmate replied, "there hasn't been a war in like two hundred years so all we do is monitor the skies and escort unauthorized aircraft. Or bring down the occasional weather balloon that some idiot set loose."
"Sounds absolutely exhilarating," Aurora commented sarcastically.
"You guys look like you get some serious investment into your air force, where are you from?" Checkmate asked.
"Kadena Air Base, Okinawa, Japan. United States Air Force, 18th Wing, 67th Fighter Squadron," FA Blackwood answered.
"United States Air Force? Never heard of you guys," Checkmate replied.
"Well we've never heard of the Kalos Self-Defense Air Force either," Dragonfly said, "Where are we anyway?"
"We're flying above the Kalos Region, Coastal Kalos specifically," Checkmate answered, "we're approaching your air base. Sorry, but we'll be breaking off here." The fighters veered left to break formation and flew off into the distance.
Below them straight ahead was the Kadena Air Base. The usually green grass between the runways was replaced with tan sand that blew around loosely. It also looked like all the buildings were transported with it and the base looked fully operational. "Kadena Tower this is callsign Dragonfly of the 67th Fighter Squadron requesting landing on runway 23R," Dragonfly reported.
"Dragonfly, you are cleared to land on runway 23R," the tower responded. Dragonfly's F-15C broke from the formation to dive down to a lower altitude and decelerated. The remaining aircraft waited their turn to land and flew over him as the fighter approached the runway.
"Maho? Do you know her?" Mr. Pokémon asked as he walked over.
"She's my sister!" Miho replied excitedly, "where is this news report from?"
"Lumiose City," Ross answered while pointing to a "reporting live from" infographic on the news report.
"Alright! Once we deliver Mr. Pokémon's package to Elm's lab, we need to head to Lumiose City immediately!" Miho declared determinedly.
Ross smiled lightly at Miho's enthusiasm. "Right, we can do that once we've asked them about the strange teleportation," he said.
"What strange teleportation?" Professor Oak asked.
"So, we're not quite sure how, but we've been teleported from our world to this one. We're not from this world," Ross explained.
Professor Oak's jaw nearly fell to the floor. "I- what? I've never heard of such a thing, surely you're joking?" he asked.
"We're not," Miho added, "we were taken from our apartment building to the Ruins of Alph. You can ask Professor Elm about how he found us."
"Ahh, indeed he told me a little about it last night during our phone call. But I'm afraid I wouldn't know anything about how such a thing could happen," Mr. Pokémon stated.
Professor Oak tapped his chin thoroughly. I suppose it wouldn't be the strangest thing to have happened… I mean, I've time-traveled with Celebi before. Could a Pokémon have brought them to this world from another? He silently nodded before standing up. "I see. I'm afraid I don't know anything about how something like that could happen. However, I have a large network of connections with various researchers and plenty of resources to use to research this mystery," he said. "I'll help you figure out how to get back to your home world, but it will likely require a lot of time. Hopefully you have a plan to keep yourselves occupied!" he joked.
"Really?! Thank you so much!" Miho exclaimed gratefully.
"Thank you, sir," Ross added.
"So, that girl on the TV, Maho, is your sister? Isn't there a professor in Lumiose City?" Mr. Pokémon asked.
"Ah yes, Professor Sycamore! Ash was supposed to meet with him too, so perhaps he's met Maho as well," Professor Oak exclaimed, "may I borrow your video phone to call him Mr. Pokémon?"
"Of course! You needn't even ask," Mr. Pokémon answered generously. The group followed Professor Oak to the kitchen where a monitor was attached to a wall with a keyboard and microphone attached to it. Professor Oak quickly typed in Professor Sycamore's Holocaster number and waited.
A holographic image of Professor Sycamore appeared on the screen. "Professor Oak! I guess you saw the news, but everything is okay now. Aside from some relatively minor property damage…" he greeted wearily.
"With all due respect professor… the entire front foyer is destroyed," one of his assistants chimed in while sweeping debris nearby.
"And the front of the building across the street," another added.
"And a not-so-small amount of public property," an officer with turquoise-colored hair added while standing behind Sycamore with her hands on her hips.
"Listen, listen, Officer Jenny, my insurance will cover everything! I'll start on the paperwork right away!" Professor Sycamore deflected nervously.
Officer Jenny sighed. "Well, it's not like it was entirely your Garchomp's fault anyway, but you should really improve your security," she advised.
"Of course, I'll get that done right away as well," Professor Sycamore replied.
Professor Oak cleared his throat to grab Professor Sycamore's attention. "Excuse me Professor, but we have a situation of our own to talk about," he interrupted.
"Ah yes, what is it?" Professor Sycamore asked as he turned back to the call.
"Well, we saw a girl named Maho on the news in Lumiose City and we have her sister here wondering if you've seen her," Professor Oak replied. He stepped aside to let Miho and Ross appear on the camera.
"Maho? Actually yeah I have. She teleported into my lab with no recollection of how she got there. You said you have her sister there?" Professor Sycamore replied.
"Hi," Miho started nervously, "I'm her younger sister, Miho Nishizumi. Is she with you right now?"
"Miho?!" Maho called out off-screen. She rushed over and appeared on the screen as Sycamore handed the device to her.
"Maho!" Miho nearly cried out. Her eyes were wide and tears started to form.
"Are you okay? Where are you now?" Maho asked urgently, "I'll come right away."
Miho smiled and held back a giggle. "I'm fine. Ross and Natalie are here too!" she exclaimed.
Ross waved lightly and Natalie looked over his shoulder. She smiled brightly and waved her little hand at the phone too. Maho smiled and waved back. "You're taking good care of Miho, right Ross?" she asked teasingly.
Ross rolled his eyes. "Good to see you too Maho," he replied, but he still smiled.
"So where are you three? I guess you got brought to this weird place too," Maho asked.
"We're in the Johto Region on Route 30. We're on an errand to deliver a package. I guess you don't know where that is though," Miho explained.
Maho shook her head. "I don't. I've only just appeared here today. I can tell this isn't Japan though," she replied.
"Well, I don't even think we're on Earth anymore. Professor Elm showed us a world map and it looks nothing like Earth," Miho explained.
"I had hoped I was wrong, but I had thought that might've been the case. I've never heard of a Kalos Region or Lumiose City before," Maho added.
"Well once we deliver Professor Elm's package, we'll head to Kalos right away! Professor, what is the quickest way to get there?" Miho asked.
Professor Oak cupped his chin in thought. "Well, you'd need to travel by plane or boat. The closest airport is in Goldenrod City and the closest port is in Olivine City. Both of those are pretty far from here," he answered. Miho and Ross' faces fell and they frowned. However, Professor Oak had an idea. "But if you teleported with a psychic Pokémon that's been to Kalos before, it'd be nearly instantaneous! I don't have a psychic Pokémon myself, but I do have a grandson who has one at my Lab! If I bring it over to the nearest Pokémon Center, it'd be able to take you to Lumiose City immediately," he proposed.
"Really?! You'd do that for us?" Miho exclaimed.
Professor Oak smiled. "Of course, you're doing a great favor for a close research colleague. It's no trouble at all," he replied.
"Still, I can't thank you enough," Miho added while slightly bowing.
"So what is this package you need us to deliver to Professor Elm's lab?" Ross asked.
Mr. Pokémon's face lit up. "Ah, right! One moment," he said, stepping away to his lab where picked up a white cardboard box and returned to the group. He offered it to Miho, who took it gingerly. "There is some glassware in it, so be careful, but it's just some special lab equipment I borrowed from Elm."
"Alright, that shouldn't be difficult," Miho replied, "how far is New Bark Town?"
"Just a day's walk away," Mr. Pokémon answered, "Cherrygrove City is halfway between here and New Bark Town, so you should be able to meet up with Oak there by tomorrow evening."
Ross took a look at the clock on his Pokégear. "We still have some time left in the day, how far is Cherrygove City?" he asked.
"Not far, you should be able to reach it before nightfall," Professor Oak answered.
"You guys must be in a different timezone then," Maho stated, "it's nighttime here. Speaking of which, where could I stay for the night…" she wondered to herself.
"If you have nowhere else to go, you're welcome to stay here at the lab," Professor Sycamore offered, "you helped save Garchomp, so it's the least I could do."
"Thank you very much," Maho replied with a gracious but quick bow.
"You're welcome, anytime," Professor Sycamore said. He and Maho turned when they heard heavy footsteps behind them. Garchomp kneeled next to Maho. "Gar…" she growled quietly.
"I think she saying thank you for your help," Professor Sycamore explained with a smile.
So what, do I pet it like a dog or… she thought. She slowly reached out and gently touched the point of Garchchomp's head. It felt rough like sandpaper, but still somehow somewhat relaxing like petting a dog or cat. Garchomp grumbled and rubbed its head against Maho's hand friendlily.
"Well, it looks like we have everything settled," Mr. Pokémon said, "you two should make your way to Cherrygrove City if you want to make it by nightfall."
"Thanks for everything," Miho said as she bowed her head.
"Don't mention it, we should stay in contact. Here is my Pokégear number," Mr. Pokémon handed Miho a slip of paper.
Professor Oak also gave his number to Ross and Miho. "Let me know once you're down in New Bark Town and on your way back to Cherrygrove City," he instructed.
"Yes sir, thank you again," Miho said, bowing her head to him.
"See you guys in a bit," Maho said, before returning the Holocaster to Professor Sycamore.
"One last thing Professor Sycamore," Professor Oak added, "please keep an eye on Ash when you can, that boy is always getting into trouble."
"I'll try my best, but I'm sure he won't get himself in any real danger," Professor Sycamore said.
"Good luck, you two," Mr. Pokémon said, giving Miho and Ross a final wave.
Lieutenant General Hammond stared ahead at the wall of his office darkly with his office phone in his ear. "Could you repeat that, tower?"
"We have been contacted by pilots of the Escadron de Chasse 2/4 La Fayette. They are looking for safe harbor," the tower operator repeated.
"Patch me to their representative immediately," Hammond ordered sternly.
The operator patched the call through and the voice of a young man with a French accent came over the line.
"Hello Lieutenant General, this is Commandant Dufresne, leader of the Escadrille de Chasse 2/4 La Fayette," he introduced himself.
"Are you carrying nuclear weapons?" Hammond asked urgently.
There was a moment of silence before the commander responded, "Yes sir, we are. three in total."
Hammond sighed deeply and rubbed his brow. Of course, a nuclear strike squadron would carry nuclear weapons... If we turn them away, they'll likely land at some other airport in this... Kalos country then they'll at best be under a foreign government we've never known, at worst they could be lost or stolen... He was silent and contemplative for a moment. "I want you to know, I do not want your weapons on this base. However… I think it would be best for you to secure them here until we can return them to our world."
Dufresne spoke up quickly, "We will be happy to oblige, sir. We are willing to accept all conditions you may require."
"Very well," Hammond said with a sigh, "we will arrange for a secure, separate hanger for your weapons and aircraft. You will be escorted there immediately after landing, please follow instructions given by our forces."
"Understood, sir," Dufresne replied enthusiastically, "thank you for your generosity."
Hammond kept the phone up as the call disconnected and he dialed the control tower again. "This is Lieutenant General Hammond speaking," he informed the operator, "2/4 La Fayette is cleared to land, escort their aircraft to hangar B-11. Put their nuclear weapons under maximum security precautions, I don't want them stolen or damaged."
"Acknowledged sir, and I'll inform them," the tower operator answered.
Hammond hung up and looked at the clock above his desk. It was almost 4:00 p.m. "It's close enough," he muttered and opened a box of cigars from his top drawer. He pulled one out and lit it with a silver lighter.
He took a deep puff and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as the smoke filled his lungs. As he exhaled he opened his eyes and took another long drag. The cigar tasted sweet and smooth in his mouth as he breathed out a plume of white smoke.
As the Escadron de Chasse 2/4 La Fayette approached the airbase, trucks and HMMWVs lined up near the runway with soldiers holding assault rifles at the ready. The 12 aircraft landed smoothly and taxied to the hangar where they were greeted by men dressed in camouflage uniforms.
Commandant Dufresne and the rest of the squadron, totaling 12 pilots and 12 weapons officers, exited their cockpits after the Mirage 2000Ns were secured in the hanger. They saluted Lieutenant General Hammond who had arrived on the scene with a stern and concerned look on his face. He walked toward them and stopped in front of the commander.
"I'm sure you understand that we are taking a massive risk by having your aircraft on our airbase. I hope you can understand the gravity of this situation."
Dufresne nodded his head respectfully. "Of course, sir."
"Your weapons and aircraft will be under constant supervision at all times," Hammond continued, "we don't have ground crew capable of maintaining your aircraft and separating the weapons so you will be grounded until further notice."
"Of course, sir. We have no need to fly until we return to France anyway," Dufresne assured him.
"I also want you to remain absolutely silent about your weapons. Do not talk about them, or even acknowledge them. To anyone who doesn't already know, you did not have them when you were transported here. Understood?"
Dufresne nodded again, "Of course, sir."
Hammond turned to a group of soldiers standing behind him. "Take them to available quarters, make sure they are comfortable and fed. And then make sure they stay that way."
The soldier gave the lieutenant general a salute and began leading the Frenchmen and women away. As the vehicles began to depart, except for the ones who were to guard the hanger, another HMMWV approached the hanger and stopped nearby Hammond. A soldier jumped out and rushed to him, saluting quickly. "Sir, I have an urgent message to deliver to you. A representative of the Kalos Region government has requested to speak with you."
Hammond sighed irately. "Very well, take me to them," he instructed. He climbed into the HMMWV and they drove off. After a few minutes, they pulled up to one of the gates of the air base. Outside the gate was a convoy being led by police on motorcycles leading a limousine and a few black SUVs. Another two dozen armed police stood around the convoy, watching closely as they approached. "Let them in," Hammond radioed to the guard on duty.
The gate slowly swung open and the convoy rolled through, only to stop just inside the gate. Hammond and his entourage got out of their vehicle and marched towards the limo. The passenger door was opened by the Kalosian officer and a beautiful young woman stepped out. She had short light brown hair and light blue eyes accented by violet eyeshadow. She had a large black sunhat with a silver ribbon to shade herself from the harsh sun of the badlands. Despite the heat, she wore a black overcoat and slacks. With her guards at her side, she confidently approached Lieutenant General Hammond. When she was right in front of him, she smiled warmly but did not offer her hand.
"Base commander," she introduced herself, "I am Diantha, Champion of the Kalos League and head of the region's government."
"I am Lieutenant General Lesly Hammond. A pleasure to meet you, ma'am. What can I do for you?"
Diantha smirked lightly with mild amusement. "We need to have a minor discussion on your base's sudden appearance in our region. It's becoming a matter of some concern within the government and the public," she answered with a hint of jest.
"I see, I suppose it's to be expected. If I may gather my staff, we can make this meeting more official than a simple gathering at the gates. May we show you to our headquarters? Our conference room is quite nice and private."
She looked at him with slight suspicion. "If you insist."
She reentered the limousine and the attendant closed the door. Hammond reentered the HMMWV and instructed the driver to lead the convoy to the headquarters. He also radioed his staff, fellow base commanders, and unit leaders to inform them that there would be an important meeting immediately.
The evening slowly approached Miho and Ross as they walked down Route 31 toward Cherrygrove City. The sky was beginning to turn orange in color as the sun set in the distance, signaling nightfall. They both enjoyed walking along the road, enjoying the cool breeze blowing in their faces.
"How far away is it?" Ross asked Miho who was looking at her Pokégear screen.
Miho glanced up from her phone and answered him, "Not too far. Maybe another 30 minutes of walking before we reach town."
"Hey, are you two trainers?!" a young boy called out from the side of the road up ahead. He wore a yellow t-shirt, blue shorts, and a backward blue baseball cap. His and Ross's eyes met and the boy grinned confidently. "Our eyes met! That means we have to have a battle!" he called out.
Ross turned to Miho. "What should I do?"
Miho shrugged. "Well...I guess you should battle if you want to."
"You know what, let's do it," he replied, "alright, my name's Ross!"
"Alright! I'm Joey and this is my Pokémon, Rattata!" Joey threw a Pokéball onto the ground and a small rat Pokemon popped out of the ball. It was definitely bigger than even the biggest rats on Earth. It was about the size of a small dog!
Ross's eyes widened in surprise at the large rodent but he regained his composure and tossed out Cyndaquil's Pokéball. Cyndaquil came out of its ball with a flash of light, ready to battle. She flared out her flames aggressively.
"Alright! I'm warning you, my Rattata is in the top percentage of Ratatta! You'll regret battling against me!" Joey boasted loudly, "use Quick Attack!"
Rattata ran forward so fast that Ross and Cyndaquil couldn't react in time. The two collided and Cyndaquil was sent flying back. "Cyndaquil! Are you okay?" Ross cried out worriedly.
Cyndaquil shook her head vigorously, trying to clear the dizziness. She looked back up with a determined stare as Rattata returned to its side of the battlefield, waiting for orders. "Use Leer!" Ross called out. One of Cyndaquil's eyes lit up with a four-pointed star shape, shining brightly like a flashlight.
Ratatta stepped back momentarily. "Use Quick Attack again!" Joey ordered. Rattata dashed forward and tackled Cyndaquil, sending her flying into the grass once again.
Ross clenched his jaw. "That Quick Attack is something..." he mumbled. "Use Tackle!" he ordered. Cyndaquil charged forward at Rattata, but she was much slower than Ratatta was.
"Use your Quick Attack to dodge!" Joey shouted, "and then use Tail Whip!"
Rattata quickly moved to avoid Cyndaquil's Tackle. He rushed around with a streak of white light following him. "Keep at it Cyndaquil!" Ross called out. Cyndaquil lunged toward Ratatta again and again but kept falling just short. Every time she missed, Rattata paused briefly to wave its tail tauntingly. Cyndaquil's blood ran hot with frustration. Her flames flared up and she pelted a weak spit of fire toward Rattata, but it fizzled out before it even got close to the Mouse Pokémon. "That might've been Ember!" Ross exclaimed, "try again Cyndaquil!"
"Knock it out with Quick Attack!" Joey yelled out.
The Mouse Pokémon rushed forward again. Cyndaquil held her ground and flared her flames again, but it just wasn't enough as Ratatta slammed into her before she could even muster a spark. "Cyndaquil, are you alright?" Ross called out worriedly as Cyndaquil flew back and rolled against the ground to his feet. She tried to get up weakly before collapsing with swirls in her eyes.
"She's out!" Joey announced.
"Are you okay Cyndaquil!" Ross said, running to his Pokémon. Cyndaquil opened her eyes and nodded, trying to stand up but failing. Ross picked her up gently as she clung tightly to his chest. Natalie looked over Ross's shoulder and reached down to pat the weakened Pokémon. Cyndaquil looked up slowly at the baby's little hand before brushing against it gently. Natalie giggled and pulled away, returning to clinging to Ross's shoulders. "You did well, take a good rest," Ross whispered before returning Cyndaquil to her Pokéball.
Joey returned his Rattata back into its ball and smiled happily. "You're going to need to be stronger if you wanna go up against me!"
"I guess I still have a lot to learn," Ross replied, already he began wondering about how he could better train both himself and his Pokémon.
"Well, it was a fun battle. Hopefully we can do it again sometime," Joey said, extending a hand.
Ross shook his hand gratefully. "It was great, thank you very much." He handed Joey some money and they parted ways.
"I think you handled that well. That guy was pretty strong, huh?" Miho said, smiling.
"Yeah..." Ross agreed with a smile, "I think Cyndaquil is close to learning Ember. We'll have to work on it."
"Alright, let's get to Cherrygrove City. It shouldn't take much longer," Miho suggested. They restarted their journey down Route 31, enjoying the peaceful scenery along the way.
At the end of Route 31 was the sleepy town of Cherrygrove City. The last part of the name was a bit exaggerated, as it was a fairly small town, only containing a few houses along with a Pokémon Center and a PokéMart. The pair yawned and Natalie was fast asleep in her carrier. The two walked towards the Pokémon Center where they would stay the night.
"We made it," Ross sighed, looking up at the dark sky through a row of trees that lined the street. "Let's get checked in and get some sleep."
Miho agreed. "Good idea," she said.
As soon as they entered the PokéCenter, they paused as they saw the same nurse from Violet City! "Hold on, aren't you Nurse Joy from Violet City?" Ross asked, surprised.
Nurse Joy giggled lightly. "That would be my cousin. You must not be familiar with Pokémon Centers and Nurse Joys. We all come from the same family and share the same name, so it's easy to confuse us. How can I help you? Do you need to have your Pokémon healed up? A room? Both?" she asked.
"Ah, yes, we do," Miho replied, "We were hoping we could stay the night here and get our Pokémon healed up before heading on tomorrow."
"No problem at all!" Joy replied cheerily, "just place your Pokéballs in this tray here and Chansey will take care of everything for you. How many beds do you need?"
"Just one double," Ross answered.
"Great, here's your room key, and then just sign your names on the chipboard here," she said, handing Ross a key and gesturing to the clipboard on the counter.
The pair signed the paper and bowed. "Thank you for your help!" they exclaimed.
The nurse smiled and lightly bowed in return. "Enjoy your stay, Chansey will take good care of your Pokémon. You can pick them up in the morning," she said.
"Okay, have a good night," Ross replied before the pair turned to go to their room.
"And you as well!" Nurse Joy exclaimed.
The early morning sun peaked over the horizon, casting a crimson glow over the fog on Azure Bay. A lone elderly man sat down on his wooden chair over a dock. He sat a bucket next to him and prepared to cast his rod into the water when he froze. A massive dark shadow was cast against the fog ahead of him. It was the shape of a ship, but the man had never seen a ship that large! He slowly put on his glasses to see if it was just a trick of his aging eyesight.
A strong gust of wind cleared the fog ahead of the ship, revealing its steel gray paint. It had a tower that stood over the ship ominously and three armored turrets housing three massive guns each. A single white marking was painted on the front.
BB-61
The Battleship of Presidents
"... good luck, and remember that I am with you in spirit, each and every one of you." -Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
"Our Liberties We Prize, Our Rights We Will Maintain"