Chapter 54: Run to Ground

By the time Aulis led Team Traveller to the top of the winding path up the slopes of the mine, the sun had begun to retreat beyond the horizon, coloring the sky with the day's final rays before slipping over the edge of the Cradle entirely. The group made their way through Copperband Village, a sleepy abode of simple adobe buildings flecked with the occasional well-built wooden stalwart. The town had begun winding down for the night, with shopkeepers starting to shutter shops, and a few taverns catering to night owls lighting their lanterns to tempt Pokémon with the smell of fresh food as they drifted home. All the while, the four shivered slightly, finding that the sweltering heat had given way to an unexpected chilliness as the skies darkened.

"Blergh… I'll never understand how the days here can be so hot and the nights freezing like this," Guardia groaned.

"That's the way life is in a desert," Aulis grunted. "Hot days, cold nights, and dry enough for most plants to struggle just to sprout on their own."

"Huh? Was that why we didn't see that many fields coming here?" Pleo wondered. "Then where does all the food come from? And where do all the Pokémon who live in the outskirts work?"

"We're a bit more dependent on Gummi Fabs to get our grub around here," the Tyranitar explained. "As for work, they work under the likes of yours truly, digging up copper and whatever else we can get for the Empire's treasury."

Nida blinked and twitched her whiskers at the Rock-Type's explanation. For such a sleepy and dusty-looking town, it sounded as if the place was rather important to this Empire. But even so, how could everyone here make their living from this mine?

"Eh? But what about the Pokémon that don't dig so well?" Nida asked.

"Well, there's always selling to the miners in town, and some of them take up work as mercenaries," Aulis responded. "Usually on behalf of the Empire, though there always seems to be some body of idiots that drifts into a pirate crew in search of fast riches."

Elty blinked at the mention of "body of idiots", his mind turning back to the crew of the Mistral Marauder. After taking Aulis' explanation into mind, a realization suddenly began to dawn on him about who some Pokémon from said body might be...

"Oh, so that's how Pyry and Pekka got into the business…" the Growlithe muttered under his breath.

"… It sounds like a bit of a harsh town," Pleo murmured.

"Well it is at times, but we do our best to make the most of it," Aulis replied. "And that includes paying our dues to the Pokémon watching over us."

The Tyranitar gestured off with a claw off at a glint on a hill in the distance. Guardia squinted through the dimming light and saw that the glint came from a pink-and-black pavilion with shining metallic rings threaded through spires. At the front was a gleaming copper statue of a small horned figure holding a ring in front of a taller six-limbed being with a hollow chest… Was the smaller of the two a hero associated with the Protector? Whatever the case was, the sight seemed to impart a degree of pride to Aulis, the rock lizard giving a satisfied grunt at his guests' reactions.

"When our Protector comes, he will be able to help smooth things over," the Rock-Type explained. "But until then, we've gotta start by helping ourselves."

Each member of Team Traveller silently admired the Tyranitar's steadfast determination... but at the same time, they wondered whether the Protector of this island would manage to live up to his expectations. After all, for all the lore surrounding Pleo back home, he hadn't turned out to be quite as big and powerful as expected, at least not yet. Could the same kind of thing wind up holding true for the Protector of Sormus?

They had little time to mull over the situation in detail, as the team were snapped out of their reverie by the sound of chatter echoing from around a nearby corner.

"A white bird with a long neck…" a squeaky voice murmured. "What sort of a description is that to work with?"

"I dunno, isn't that basically a Swanna?" a high, ghostly voice asked. "Shouldn't be too hard to spot, right?"

"So why would the Sheriff be so obtuse about it and not just tell us that the 'mon Duke Atlas wanted brought in was a Swanna!" the first voice exclaimed. "What's with all the cloak and dagger all of a sudden? Do you think it has something to do with that fregatti that pulled in?"

The four slowed and grimaced at the sound of the voices, watching as a Maractus and Sandygast in Imperial scarves rounded the corner. Nida froze as Aulis carried on ahead, looking around in a panic for someplace to hide or slip off to.

"Ah... oh, look over there!" she squeaked.

The spike ball hastily tugged at Pleo's wing, bidding him to waddle off after her, Guardia and Elty following close behind at a brisk pace. Aulis paused and looked back confusedly just as the four slipped down an alleyway before breaking into a sprint, bounding down the narrow corridor until they reached another lane, panting and glancing around their surroundings nervously to see if there was any sign of the guards.

"Do- Do you think they saw us?" Pleo stammered.

"I… I dunno," Nida panted. "But whatever happened, they're not chasing after us-"

"What are you doing?"

Team Traveller froze and blanched at the harsh voice, looking up uneasily to see Aulis staring down at them. The Tyranitar's face was hardened into an unamused scowl, clearly not enthusiastic over having to abruptly chase after the group.

"What's the big idea of running off on me, huh?" the Rock-Type growled.

"Uh… er…" Guardia stammered.

"We were just…" Nida began.

The Nidoran faltered, glancing around the adobe-paved street grasping for any excuse she could find to satisfy Aulis' questioning. After a half-moment too long, her eyes settled on a long, low-slung building nestled against a hillside, a lantern-shaped sign hanging welcomingly above the entrance. 'Lamplight Inn,' read the sign...

It would have to do. Nida turned back to Aulis, straightening up and forcing her mouth into the biggest smile she could muster to reassure him.

"We spotted a hostel!" the Poison-Type exclaimed. "It seemed like someplace we could get some rest."

Aulis frowned and raised a brow skeptically at the youngster's word. The kids had obviously been through a lot, but even so the Tyranitar seemed visibly unsatisfied with their explanation.

"… Eh? But why wouldn't you go to a medic's hut first?" Aulis demanded. "You're rather scuffed up."

"Well… I don't think that our condition is anything we can't handle with the stuff in our bag," Elty insisted. "And we need to get going bright and early in the morning anyways."

The Tyranitar furrowed his brow, clearly not buying the Growlithe's explanation. His gaze lingered on the group a bit longer as he observed their wounds again, and noted their poorly-forced smiles despite their obvious beaten-up state, and a low hum rumbled from his throat. Finally, after another moment's scrutiny, he relented and shrugged off his misgivings. These kids had clearly been through a lot; could be they were still a bit cagey from being thrown around the dungeon. Nothing to worry about after all, he decided.

"Suit yourself, then," their guide grunted.

Aulis pressed on ahead, pushing the door open to the inn. A mass of warm air filtered out, beckoning the youngsters in, where they discovered a simple room with low tables bearing candles and ringed by cushioned seats. At the end was a flight of stairs up, and to the left, a rudimentary counter with a bucket of water on it with a finned tail poking out. After feeling the ground thump from Aulis' approach, the tail shifted, as the flattened, tawny form of a Stunfisk poked his head out of his container to greet his customers.

"Hyvää iltaa, and welcome to Lamplight Inn," the Stunfisk greeted. "How many places can we put you down for today?"

"A room for four," Aulis answered.

The Electric-Type's brow raised skeptically, the mudfish taken aback by a party of five asking for only four beds.

"Eh? You're not with them?" the fish asked. The Stunfisk fidgeted his fins impatiently, only to be answered by a shake of the Tyranitar's head.

"Nah, I'm just lending a helping claw for tonight," the Rock-Type explained. "They should be out of your fins by tomorrow."

"Whelp, whatever floats your boat," the Stunfisk replied.

Aulis fished through a small pouch slung across his waist, fishing out a few copper coins and sliding it across the table. Team Traveller watched as the flounder moved his tail over and pushed the coins into a drawer with an audible clink, breathing sighs of relief that they'd found a place to spend the night. Even so, a nagging sense of unease lingered in the air, Pleo shifting his wings uncomfortably before craning his head down to his Nidoran teammate.

"Nida?" Pleo whispered. "How are we supposed to get out of here when the guards are looking for us?"

"… We'll think about it in the morning," the Nidoran replied. "Let's just take things easy for now."

"Whelp, that's it. The room's yours," Aulis said as he turned around and approached the team to give them their key. "I'll stop by in the morning to check up on you in the morning."

"Um… dōmo," Guardia replied.

"Yeah, you wound up being more of a help than I'd have thought at first," Elty added.

"Hmph. Well, you're welcome. Though I need to go and take care of my own problems now," the Tyranitar grumbled. "Good night, and hope you rest well."

Aulis turned and left, shuffling out the door into the night. Back on the counter, the Stunfisk sloshed in his bucket, pointing with his tail up a flight of stairs opening out into a hallway that branched left and right.

"Sixth door to the right," the Electric-Type said. "It's yours for the night."

"Right," Nida answered. "Gracías."

The Nidoran bowed and climbed a crude stairwell up to an adobe hallway with her friends, coming to a stop in front of a solid-looking wooden door that had been left open a crack. The Poison-Type nudged it open, revealing a spartan room with the window facing a westward alleyway, thankfully away from the moon's rising spot. The abode was largely barren, barring a few piles of bedding spread out neatly along the right wall and a stump-table at the center. Not the finest accommodation they could have hoped for, but the air had been recently freshened with some herbs hung over the window, and it was certainly more than an empty visitor's mat on the fringes that they'd have to claim were it not for Aulis' help.

"Was wondering when we were ever going to see one of these again," Elty muttered.

"Come on," Nida sighed. "Let's patch ourselves up and call it a night."

Exhausted, the four flopped down onto the straw bedding around the room, each taking a turn to dig through the team's satchel for berries to treat each others' wounds. One after the other they took a turn applying the berry ointments to each other, until only Pleo was left. The Lugia winced and bobbed his head on reflex as Nida shifted his feathers aside to inspect his wounds. Drawing in a sharp breath as her paw brushed against a particularly harsh scrape, he averted his eyes from Nida's work and reached out with conversation to distract himself from the procedure.

"Nida?" Pleo chirped. "Where do we go from here now?"

"Eh? Why do you ask?" Nida wondered.

"Well, even after we get past the guards…" Pleo murmured. "How do we know if Dimitri made it here? And if so, how would we find him?"

Nida paused, staring into space blankly before shaking her head. The team had somehow managed to endure the entirety of that Mystery Dungeon, staying a step ahead of Lyn and his lackies in the process. But what would they do now? They now found themselves stuck with no guide to Sormus and the surrounding area, and although they'd given Lyn the slip for now, there was no doubt he remained as hot on their trail as he could manage. And how would they handle things when it came time to leave Sormus?

It would only be a matter of time before Lyn caught up, but as exhausted as they were by the escape, they would need every second of rest they could afford. Perhaps the best course of action would be to take things slowly for now, and save their energy for the morning when their assailants would surely be after them in full force once more.

"Let's take things one at a time, Pleo," Nida answered. "For now, let's just enjoy our peace and quiet."

The young Lugia blinked, before obliging the Nidoran's request and nestling himself into his bedding. The sky had grown completely dark, prompting Elty to similarly flip down, and after poking her head out the window and seeing that the moon wasn't visible from the room, Guardia followed suit after a moment of lingering deliberation. Something still didn't feel right about tonight, but even so, it was hard to argue with rest right now…

Another day, another battle. So perhaps it really was best to make the most of their current breather.


As Team Traveller settled into their lodging for the evening, the final rays of daylight started slipping over the horizon for the dark of night. Unbeknownst to Copperband Village and its shuttering shops, offshore on the far side of Sormus, a small flotilla of sea Pokémon and their passengers were making their way back to a white-sailed ship, carrying tired and discouraged-looking creatures off the foreign desert island.

At the head of the group was the sour-looking Samurott captain of the ship, cutting through the water as a Mothim flitted tiredly after him from behind. The otter made his way to a rope ladder that had been unfurled over the edge of the brigantine and grabbed it with his forepaws, pulling himself up to the main deck, where he shook away the seawater which clung to his pelt and irkedly twitched his whiskers.

"I don't believe this," Lyn growled. "The crew spends well over a day searching inside some blasted Dungeon and we still haven't found the Protector yet."

"Well, we know he made it past the midpoint from reported sightings," Ellsberg sighed, brushing some sand loose from his wings. "At this rate he might have managed to make it through the dungeon."

"Then we can't rest here for long!" the Samurott fumed. "The longer we wait the more likely he'll slip away!"

"Hey there! Welcome back, Captain."

Lyn turned to see that much to his surprise, a chair had been left on the deck amid small piles of partly-melted ice lumps. There on top of it was Ketu getting up from reclining, leaving his captain to splutter out of frustration.

"Ketu?! What do you think you're doing?!" the Water-Type yelled. "You were supposed to be watching the ship!"

"Well, what's it look like I'm doing?" the Weavile answered.

"Like you're being a lazy furball and shirking your duty," Ellsberg harrumphed, only to be answered with a dismissive shrug.

"Eh, better a furball than a sand flea," the Dark-Type retorted.

"I don't care about your quips right now, Ketu!" Lyn shouted. "What I want is a good reason why I shouldn't demote you on the spot here and now!"

Lyn's temper quickly erased Ketu's relaxed smile. The Dark-Type tensed up, his demeanor taking a huffy and defensive turn.

"Because I actually did my job?" Ketu scoffed.

"If you did, then how about you start telling what you did besides sunbathing," Lyn demanded.

"I gave the remaining crew some R&R and did the standard checkups," the Weavile replied, his explanation doing little to improve his superior's mood. "Oh, and I kept our cover with some Imp crew who was looking around for the Protector."

Lyn's jaw dropped at Ketu's answer. The Samurott spluttered incredulously, finally forcing out a single roaring word in reply.

"What?!"

"Hm? Oh yeah, some Clawitzer who seemed dead set on capturing him," the Dark-Type continued. "Quite the determined type."

Lyn blanched, raising a shaking paw to his brow and pinching. Two weeks… Two weeks since what was supposed to be a simple capture and transport, and here the matter had blown up to the point where the Empire was now privy of his pursuit.

"This can't be happening..."

Lyn buried his head in his paw, despairing at the situation and at a loss of what to do next. He had lost track of the Protector once again, and no idea where on the island he was exactly... Wait a minute. If that Imperial Captain was also looking for that bird, then why hadn't they run into any of her underlings while searching the Mystery Dungeon? Even after crossing the midpoint, if the Imperial Captain had thought the Protector was in the Dungeon, she'd have sent Pokémon to search there. Between that and their discovery that the bird and his little friends crossed the midpoint earlier today, there was only one logical conclusion...

The lot of them had made it out, and were en route to Copperband if they hadn't already reached it.

"Gather the crew," Lyn growled. "I'm going to need a team to head into Copperband with me."

"Hrmph," Ketu answered. "On it."

Ellsberg fluttered and spluttered incredulously as the Weavile shuffled off. Lyn wanted to go into an Imperial town himself?! How could that possibly end well?

"Wait, wait. Why?!" Ellsberg exclaimed. "Lyn, the Protector is-"

"Not in the dungeon anymore, or else we'd have run into Imps down there," Lyn snorted. "So it's safe to assume that he's gotten out."

Ellsberg blanched and flitted back uneasily. Lyn did have a point, and with how mercurial he was, did he really want to contest the matter if he and Ketu still got the Protector in the end?

"I mean, if you're certain," the Mothim murmured. "But I'm sure that we could spare a small team to check for you."

The Samurott gave a glowering scowl back at the moth's suggestion. What mission given to a "small team" had gone right in this entire chase after the Protector? Lyn remembered how the infiltration team got exposed by a bunch of common peasants on Tromba, and how the team of infiltrators he dispatched to Boisocéan had failed their task so badly that two had to be left behind for the paper pushers in Canalhouse to work out an extradition. The otter chanced to see the pig and sand lizard from earlier, sitting tiredly on some crates, only to jump back to their feet after realizing their captain was watching them. Yes, he certainly didn't need any reminders of that debacle either. No, trying the same thing over and over again while expecting different results was the definition of insanity. With that in mind, perhaps it was best to shake things up and take a different tack.

"... No. I'm going in person this time," he growled. "I'm done playing games and am going to get that Protector back, no matter what it takes."


In spite of its positioning, the entrance and the lobby to the Lamplight Inn had the benefit of facing east, allowing it to catch the morning sun as it rose over the horizon. The oil lamps on the table were cold and unlit, with the sun's first rays carrying the burden of illuminating the worn and low-slung wooden desk where a bucket of water with an idling Stunfisk sat. It was in this sleepy environment that a Heatmor and Graveler in white scarves with blue sun patterns made their way in from outside, keenly eying their surroundings as they walked up to the receptionist.

"Excuse me," the Graveler said. "But I was wondering if you could answer a question for us."

From his bucket, the receptionist poked his head above the water and looked out, eying the strangers in white scarves before him. The Stunfisk shifted in the water and raised his head up to talk to the new visitors.

"Hrm?" he asked. "Looking for a room?"

"Not quite. We were looking for some friends of ours who are spending the night here in town," the Heatmor explained. "Did a group with a white, long necked bird check in here lately?"

"One who looks kinda like an overgrown Wingull?" receptionist mulled. "Yeah, they checked in just last night."

The Heatmor and Graveler glanced at each other at the Stunfisk's answer and traded small nods, prompting the Fire-Type to make his way for the exit. The receptionist fidgeted against his bucket, sloshing some water around uncomfortably as he looked puzzledly at the remaining Graveler.

"Eh?" the Stunfisk murmured. "Your buddy was in an awful rush."

"He went off to give a heads-up to some company," the Graveler explained. "We've been looking for our friends for a while now."

"Even so, I wouldn't have expected him to duck out so quickly," the Electric-Type said. "This friend of yours mean a lot to you or something?"

The Graveler paused in obvious thought, before shaking his head and answering.

"You could say that," he grunted. "So... would you happen to know what room they booked with-"

"Hey you!"

The Graveler froze after feeling a prickling brush on his lower shoulder. The Rock-Type grudgingly turned around, where waiting for him were a Maractus and Sandygast in Imperial scarves, scowling impatiently.

"We couldn't help but overhear about your friend," the Maractus growled. "Would you be able to answer a few questions for us?"

"Uh... questions?" the Graveler stammered.

"Yeah, how do you know about this 'mon," the Sandygast demanded. "And what's your relation to him?"

The Graveler stiffened up at the Ghost-Type's questioning, shifting his arms uneasily. After thinking of a suitable sounding excuse, the Rock-Type answered, his voice carrying an audible uncertainty to it.

"Er… you could say that we're associates. We wound up getting separated a few ports back and this is where he finally pointed us to go," he offered. "Why, what are you up to with him?"

"… That's none of your concern," Maractus snorted.

"But it is if there's guards after him" the Graveler insisted. "I wouldn't be a good friend if I just stood by if they were falsely accused, would I?"

"That'll be for us to decide," the Grass-Type scoffed.

"Hey, Stunfisk," the Sandygast asked. "What room did you say that 'mon was in?"

"Sixth door to the right."

The Sandygast nodded and turned to his fellow guard, sending a small wave of sand rippling over his body as he moved one of his nub-like arms. The Ghost-Type motioned forward, and off at the stairwell at the back of the lobby.

"Come on, let's go check it out."

The Maractus and Sandygast began to make their way for the stairwell, only for the sound of heavy footsteps to ring out. There, in front of them, stood the Graveler who had spread his arms, blocking the whole of the route up to the floor above.

"I can't let you do that," the Rock-Type said.

The guards' mood visibly darkened as their faces hardened into scowls and their bodies tensed for action. The Maractus in particular grew agitated, giving a prod with his spiky arm at the Graveler's stomach.

"Get out of my way, or I'll have you arrested for annoying a guard!" the Grass-Type growled.

The Maractus' outburst drew a blinking pause from his Sandygast partner, the sandy wraith shifting to give the Grass-Type a puzzled look.

"Wait, that's a bookable crime?" the Ghost-Type whispered.

"Shh! We'll sweat the details later!"

"Hrmph," the Graveler spat. "Like I said, you're not going any- AGH!"

The Graveler was knocked back into the wall by a heavy, thorny blow, making him stagger and topple over. The Maractus drew his arm back, green flecks of light dancing along his arm as the Stunfisk receptionist slunk into his bucket unnervedly, the Grass-Type giving an irritated grunt.

"And stay out of our wa-"

SLAM!

The guards looked back across the lobby to see the door was thrown open by a glaring party of five Pokémon in blue sun scarves. At the front was a hulking Samurott, flanked by a Xatu, Heatmor, Heracross and a Dusclops. At once, the tension in the air thickened, the otter giving a low growl as his eyes pierced into the two guards.

"I heard that there was a white, long necked bird here at this hostel," Lyn glowered. "I'm going to need to leave with it. Now."

The Maractus and Sandygast shrank back at the sight of the hostile party. Dealing with the Samurott and his companions would be a tall order, but they had the high ground to fall back on and these strangers didn't. Besides, perhaps there wasn't a need to come to blows after all...

"Er… who are you and what business do you have here?"


Up above on the second floor, Team Traveller started to stir under the dim morning light as the sounds of an argument below rang out. Nida was the first to notice the noise, pricking up uneasily, Guardia and Pleo following after after being awoken by her movements, leaving Elty to futilely paw at his teammates to attempt to return to sleep.

"Nrgh…" Elty groaned, lethargically swatting his forepaw. "Keep it down."

"It's not me," Guardia insisted. "There's something going on downstairs."

"Hey buddy," a ghostly voice snapped. "I don't know what game you all are trying to pull but- AGH!"

The four heard thumps and blows coming from below, followed by the sound of wood splintering and a loud, ghostly shriek. The group tensed up, warily making their way to the door as a bellowing cry rang out from below.

"Gah!"

The youngsters' blood ran cold at the sound of the shout, prompting Nida to crack the door open. The downstairs had been trashed, with the Sandygast slumped over in a sandy pile in front of the desk and a petrified-looking receptionist. At the bottom of the stairwell at the end of the hallway was Lyn, cradling a shoulder freshly-flecked with green spikes, snarling at a Maractus at the top who gave a jeering wave

"Hah!" the Maractus sneered. "Not so tough, are ya- Agh!"

Before the Grass-Type could react, a freezing beam struck his foot and froze it against the floor. The Cactus Pokémon cried out and desperately tried to free himself, only for the splutch of a blade embedding itself in his torso rang out, followed by a pained squeal. Lyn wrenched the blade out as the cactus rabbit staggering forward, and grabbed the Maractus by the back of his head and threw him down the stairs with a clatter, the unconscious guard falling into the receptionist desk and knocking over the Stunfisk's bucket over with a yelp. At this, Nida hastily slammed the door, wide-eyed and panting.

"We need to get out of here."

Guardia motioned for Elty to help her move the stump-table, the two shoving it up against the door as footsteps rang down the hallway outside. From downstairs, they overheard a pained, rumbling voice conversing with the intruders.

"Nrgh… They're in the sixth room to the right," a Graveler's voice groaned.

"Right," a Xatu's voice answered. "Remember to check your surroundings on the way up. We don't need more surprises here."

"Just where are we supposed to go?" Pleo whispered. "Lyn's out there in the hallway!"

Glancing around for an answer, Elty's eyes fell on the shuttered window, beams of sunlight breaking through cracks in the shutters and a sliver of the clear blue sky visible beyond. He looked out the window a moment, then to Pleo, and shook his head.

"The only place we can go," Elty insisted. "Come on, help me with those shutters!"

The Growlithe blew out a column of cinders, his desperately forceful Ember setting the wood of the shutters alight. Pleo followed by spitting up a glowing orb, smashing the shutter into a collection of charred splinters that fell out into the alleyway. Nida, Elty, and Guardia hastily vaulted onto Pleo's back as the bird clambered up the windowsill, the sound of shouts and footsteps ringing out from the hallway.

"They're trying to get away!" Lyn shouted. "I can hear them!"

"Now or never, Pleo!" Elty yipped.

The Lugia heard a smash and the splintering of wood as Lyn stabbed a seamitar through the door, prompting him to leap from the window and take wing… only to abruptly feel his leg yanked back. Pleo squawked, realizing that he'd caught his foot on a line of sheets hung out to dry and pitched forward with his passengers, crashing to the ground along with the laundry with a loud yelp just as the door was broken down. Back in the room, Lyn burst in, the first thing coming to his and his subordinates' attention being the charred and splintered shutters along with the visibly open window to the room.

"They've made a break for it!" a Heracross cried.

"They flew off again?!" Lyn bellowed. Scowling, the Samurott whirled around and turned to the door to storm outside, only to pause at the sound of a few groaning Pokémon coming from outside, just under the room's window.

"Oww…"

"Gah, talk about your false starts."

Lyn ran over and poked his head out the window, noticing a snapped clothesline dangling from the building across the lane. The Samurott followed the cord down with his eyes, to the sight of a young Lugia, Nidoran, Growlithe, and Cubone staggering up. The four hastily untangled themselves from the cord only to peer up with a startled grimace and see Lyn staring down. The youngsters turned to run, prompting the otter to spit out a pressurized orb of water at the four. The sound of a yelp and loud splash rang out, making Lyn pause tensely as he watched the dust settle… only to see that he had missed and the group were rapidly approaching the corner to a blind alley. Determined not to lose his targets yet again, the Samurott pulled his head back in, turning to his underlings with a fierce bellow.

"Take out the wall!"

Lyn grasped his blades and sliced through the wooden frame of the window with a cross-slash, making the wall above visibly sink downwards. The Samurott sidestepped, prompting his underlings to strike the wall with a mass of attacks, collapsing it outwards into the lane in a rain of adobe fragments. The otter leapt forward and came to a crouching landing on the ground, charging ahead to the corner just in time to see a Growlithe's tail slip around the corner up ahead.

"This way!"


As Team Traveller desperately ran through the narrow alleyways of Sormus, a Samurott's roar echoed behind them. The four whirled down one blind corner after the other, but all the while were unable to shake the sound of Lyn and his underlings chasing after them. Throughout the ordeal, Pleo was wide-eyed, batting his wings for takeoff only to find his path blocked time and time again by an ill-placed curve or pole above.

"How did Lyn find us again?!" Pleo squawked.

"I don't know," Nida panted. "Just keep running for now!"

The four skidded around a corner and ran down an alley lined with discarded crates. As Team Traveller charged on ahead, they heard Lyn and his lackies' shouts and footsteps grow less and less distinct. Nida and her friends popped out ahead into a small clearing in a cross-roads, looking around uneasily at the paths branching out in the small square to try and tease out which way to go next… Only to look up and see the wide, blue sky overhead, and realize that the clearing was surely big enough for Pleo to run fast enough to take wing.

"This place looks more open than I was expecting," Nida said. "Pleo, let's all get on top of you and then we can fly-"

"Nie ruszaj się!" a whinnying voice cried.

The four whirled to the left, where they saw the forms of a Ponyta, a Sandslash, and a Cranidos in indigo scarves dart in and block their way. The three hardened their glares and hastily assumed battle positions, the Ponyta at the head snorting out a challenging jeer.

"You're not going anywhere, pirate scum!"

"Eh?!" Pleo exclaimed. "But I'm not a pirate!"

"Yeah!" Elty snapped. "I'm the pirate here!"

Elty's outburst hung in the air, giving way to an awkward silence as the three indigo-scarved Pokemon blinked and exchanged skeptical glances with one another. This scruffy lot with the Protector really was a team of pirates…?

"Psst, Niilo," Cabot whispered. "I thought those wanted posters were just something the Company was using as a cover to snatch these 'mons."

"Maybe they were more accurate than we gave them credit for?" the Sandslash mused.

"There's clearly a long, interesting story behind this…" Berecien snorted. "But that can wait. En garde!"

The Ponyta lowered his head and charged forward as flames flared out from his hide. Thinking quickly, Elty leapt to the side and swiftly ran at Berecien with his fangs bared and ready for a Bite.

"Not so fast, hothead!" the Growlithe barked.

"Hrmph!" the Ponyta fumed. "You're one to talk, pirat- GAH!"

Pleo watched as Elty clamped down on the Ponyta's rump with his jaws, the horse kicking wildly to try and shake his attacker loose. The young Protector darted in a flapping run to try and come to Elty's aid, only to feel a heavy ramming blow from underneath just as he left the ground, sending him pitching back to earth with a shriek.

"I got him! I got- OW!"

Cabot's cheers were cut off with a sharp clubbing to his side, sending him staggering back as Guardia came to a panting stop in his place. Pleo looked up as he wearily picked himself off the ground, seeing the Cubone's eyes wide with alarm, frantically motioning backwards with her free claw.

"Pleo!" Guardia cried. "Fall back!"

"R-Right!"

"Oh, no you don't!" a Sandslash's voice shouted.

Pleo turned and saw Niilo charging him, prompting him to bolt in a panic. The Sandslash neared the Lugia with his claws ready to swipe, only to hop back as a needle-like spike sailed through the air and landed in front of him with a thwip. Niilo looked up just in time to spot and deflect another poisonous missile with his claws, before noticing the spike's owner: a blue Nidoran with her barbs fanned out, and her red eyes hardened into a glare.

"Pleo!" Nida cried. "When you've got a good shot, hit him with an- AGH!"

Nida's instructions were interrupted by Niilo's claws raking down her side. The Nidoran tottered, clutching at her side, before being flung aside by a back-handed blow from those same huge claws. Pleo yelped as the Nidoran was casually sent sailing through the air with such ease.

"Nida!"

Pleo flinched back, coming forward again while sending a glowing ball of energy from his mouth in the general direction of the Sandslash. Without checking to see if his attack had hit home, he took the chance to bolt. As he turned to fall back, he spotted Guardia groaning on the ground, knocked back by a stiff headbutt from Cabot. Further ahead, Elty let out a pained yelp as Berecien reared up and brought his hooves down on the dog's flank with a forceful stomp.

Taking in the battle with an ever-worsening expression of horror etched on his face, Pleo froze. His friends were in danger! For all the hoping and dreaming he and the villagers back home had done about finally returning home... he couldn't possibly think of accomplishing any of that if he couldn't even get his friends out of here with him. The young Lugia skidded to a stop and gathered his wings to try and bring the wind between them. All the while, Pleo wished with all his might that he could just call on that latent, explosive power of his, just long enough to turn the tides of this battle...!

PLOOOSH!

"GWARK!"

Pleo was sent tumbling back along the sand by a high-pressured ring of water. Groaning, he picked himself up and stumbled forward, trying desperately to maintain his balance by holding his wings out to each side. In the end, in spite of his efforts, he couldn't manage more than a few tottering steps before pitching forward face-first into the sandy ground, knocked out cold. Nida, Elty and Guardia all looked on from their respective predicaments, mouths agape, the whole brawl grinding to a halt out of shock as the seabird crashed to the ground.

"Pleo!"

The three heard the crunching of sand coming from the path on the right side, turning to see a Clawitzer in an indigo scarf with a triple leaf pattern draw her claw back to her side and hop over. The trio hastily circled tight against each other, expecting her to ambush them along with the three indigo-scarved strangers, only to see her sidle up against Pleo's unconscious body and brush his drenched plumes.

"I'll admit, you kept me waiting longer than I'd like," Nagant said to herself. "But your flight ends here, Lugia."

"You're that Clawitzer from Orleigh!" Nida squeaked. "Wh-What do you want? What are you going to do with him?"

"That's none of your concern, Nidoran," the shrimp chittered. "As for the rest of you, I suggest you surrender and come along peacefully!"

"C-Come along?" Elty stammered. "Nie ma mowy!"

"Yeah!" Guardia spat. "We're not going to let you just get away with this!"

Team Traveller hastily dug in for a fierce fight, trying to prepare themselves in spite of their shock. All the while, Nagant stood unmoved, doing little more to acknowledge the threat than to give a flat, unimpressed stare and an idle twitch of her big claw's barbels.

"… Well do go on," the Clawitzer snorted. "Do your worst."

Guardia grit her teeth and charged with her club ready at her side. The Cubone gave a shouting battle cry and jumped up to give an overhead smash to the shrimp, only for Nagant to slightly raise her claw and disgorge a watery pulse square into Guardia's body.

"A-AAH!"

Nida and Elty watched in shock as Guardia sailed back through the air, falling against the sandy ground with a wet thud. Barring a weak twitch of her leg, the drenched Cubone showed no signs of consciousness, prompting Elty to pull his tail between his legs at a sinking realization of how far over their heads they were.

"Spike ball," Elty whined. "I think that we need to fold 'em-"

"Here!" a whinnying voice cried. "Have some thanks for that bite you left on me!"

The canine snapped to attention, whirling around in the direction of the cry just in time to catch a hoofed kick to the side of the head, sending him sailing into the air with a shriek. The Growlithe landed squarely on his chin, skidding to a stop in a full-on faceplant, totally unconscious but for some weak twitching of his legs. Nida froze, mouth agape from witnessing the powerful blow, and although she felt the urgent need to act she was paralyzed by indecision. The frantic workings of her mind, desperate to find a solution to her team's predicament, distracted her enough that she didn't notice the presence behind her until it was already slashing at her back.

"Ngah!"

Nida flopped to the ground from Niilo's attack, and weakly started to pick herself up. As the Nidoran staggered to her feet and looked up, she went wide eyed at the sight of a charging Cranidos. One that was far too close to avoid.

SMACK!

Nida pinwheeled along the ground, coming to an unconscious, thudding stop after striking a wall headfirst. The courtyard quickly simmered down, the only sounds being panting from Team Traveller's attackers and the chatter of an unimpressed Clawitzer.

"I've always hated dealing with theatrical types," Nagant grunted. "Come on, let's hurry up and get them to the ship. We can't assume safe harbor until the Protector is in trusted claws."

The shrimp gave a whistling chitter and motioned behind her, prompting a Pidgeotto and a Bewear to come forward. At once the four Pokémon were hastily scooped up and divided amongst the gathered crew. Berecien dimmed his mane to a dull, cool red as Cabot slung Nida over his back. Niilo scooped up the Cubone along with her club, passing it off to his Cranidos counterpart, as the Pidgeotto scooped up Elty in his talons, giving a sour glare at his passenger. Last but not least, the Bewear picked up Pleo, carrying him along in his strong arms as the party marched on for the sea… unaware that from a street on an overlooking slope, a Samurott was watching their progress, looking ahead to follow the strangers' course to the harbor.

"They're headed for the docks," Lyn grunted. "We'll cut them off there and teleport out with the bird."

"… Are we sure, Captain?" a Graveler asked. "We don't exactly have the advantage of numbers here."

"I didn't ask you for your opinion," the otter growled. "Now get movi-"

Before the Samurott could finish, he was cut off by the sight of a torrent of mud sailing through the air. Lyn sprang back, leaving the Graveler to look up just in time to be struck in the face by the incoming attack.

"Agh!"

The Rock-Type staggered and slumped over limply, throwing his teammates into a panic as they looked around wildly for the attacker, only to hear a sharp call from the lanes below.

"There they are!"

Lyn whirled and watched as a Camerupt in an indigo scarf charged ahead, leading a group of fellow underlings for the steps up to their street. The Samurott spat out a Water Pulse, prompting his subordinates to attack likewise, drawing yelps from ahead as a cloud of dust and sand was kicked up. Satisfied, the mustelid slid his blades from their sheaths, ready to pounce, only for a torrent of beams and projectiles to come flying out of the cloud and forcing Lyn and his co-intruders to hit the ground to duck the hail of attacks.

"AAAAAH!"

The Company team's discipline frayed after the Heatmor was struck by a jet of water sending him pinwheeling back. As the anteater tottered back up, the lackeys' morale sank under the hail of fire, the Xatu teleporter turning to Lyn wide-eyed and in increasing panic.

"Captain, we need to retreat!" Psychic-Type squawked

Lyn seethed and spat out another torrent into the body of guards, felling a Rhyhorn with a pained bellow. Much to his dismay, the defeated guard was quickly replaced with more compatriots. Even if he and his underlings were able to overcome them, just what sorry state would they be in by the time they finally caught up with the Clawitzer? The Samurott grimaced and glowered at his derailed revenge against the Imp interloper, grudgingly coming to the realization that there was simply no positive endgame to be had by standing his ground here.

"Rrgh... fine!" he fumed. "Get us out of here!"

The Company underlings abandoned their positions guarding the alleyway into their vantage point, hastily coming together to interlock their limbs around their felled Graveler teammate. With the way now clear, the Camerupt and the fellow guards stormed ahead, the camel instantly noticing the Xatu deep in focus.

"Ack! They're trying to telepor-"

Before the Fire-Type could finish, the lane was filled with a bright light that stunned the gathered guards. As their eyes adjusted back to normal lighting, they saw the place where the Samurott and his underlings were was now empty, the lot of them having vanished into the aether.

"Split up and find them!" the Camerupt spat. "They couldn't have gotten that far!"


Offshore and due south of Copperband Village, the Nektar Weide lurked in the distance, the crew keeping a keen eye out for any approaching hostiles who might interrupt their captain's infiltration. Others gathered around to watch a slapdash teleportation platform on the ship's deck thrown together from crates and spare sail at the request of the Xatu in charge of teleportation. Suddenly, a bright flash of light shone in the middle of the platform, and some surprised yelps rang out from the unexpecting crew. As crew members' eyes adjusted from the bright light, they turned to see Lyn and his underlings in a sloppy pile on the deck, having tumbled unceremoniously onto the canvas padding of the platform. Seething with barely-contained rage, Lyn pulled himself to his feet and stomped down to the deck, positively radiating an aura of unbridled fury.

"Rrgh..."

Ellsberg flitted over to his superior cautiously, eyeing the visible, seething rage reflected in the Samurott's eyes. Obviously Lyn's excursion had not gone to plan, but... perhaps there was some sort of silver lining to be reported?

"So... how did it g-"

THUNK!

The Mothim flinched and staggered backwards reflexively, cracking open one eye to see Lyn leaning on a seamitar he'd driven through the boards of the ship's deck... and glaring icy daggers right at him. He gulped as Lyn took a deep, rage-shaken breath in a futile attempt to put a leash on his anger long enough to deliver a coherent sentence.

"How does it look like it went, Ellsberg?!" the Samurott fumed.

Lyn watched as crewmembers gathered around cautiously watching the gathered returnees to see what was going on... and precious little else. Irked at the lack of action, the Samurott gave a stomp against the deck, followed by a loud, berating bellow.

"Don't just stand there!" he yelled. "Call the medics!"

The crew flinched and Ellsberg's former Gligar first mate quickly raised the alarm, prompting a small team of a Wigglytuff leading a pair of Chansey to hurry over to the platform. As the medics busied themselves with treating the wounded, Ketu sidled up against his Samurott superior, shrugging and shaking his head.

"I told you she was determined," he chided. "Still, that's gotta be embarrassing getting turfed out after all this time by some shrim-"

The Weavile heard a swish, prompting him to tilt his gaze down and still his words. There, at the base of his throat, was the pointed tip of one of Lyn's seamitars, its owner maintaining a tight grip on the hilt and glaring daggers into the Dark-Type.

"Shut up, Ketu," he growled. "I don't want to hear it!"

Ketu looked up as his expression curled into a dissatisfied frown, but even so, the Dark-Type refused to budge. Beyond moving a claw to straighten a disturbed head feather, the Weavile had given no acknowledgement of his circumstances beyond an hardened, unblinking stare.

"Fine," the Weavile harrumphed. "What do we do next then?"

Lyn lowered his seamitar and buried his head in his free paw, grumbling and growling audibly all the while. The Samurott raised his head, sighing as his mind still struggled to make sense in the huge changes to his mission that had unfolded.

"I... I just need some time to collect my thoughts," he muttered. "To figure out where that Clawitzer-"

Lyn trailed off as he noticed movement in the seas ahead from what appeared to be a vessel. The Samurott squinted, and after failing to make out the craft's sail markings from the distance, fished out his scope and raised it to his eye. There, visible now through the spyglass, was an Imperial frigate carried swiftly across the water by unfurled sails and a team of hurried-looking escorts. Clambering up a rope from the side of the ship was none other than the Clawitzer whose salty claws had pinched away his prize.

"Hrmph. Well that certainly makes things easier..."

Lyn whirled around, brandishing a seamitar and slamming the flat of its blade against the deck in one swift motion. He held it aloft, the keratinous blade cleaving sunlight from shadow along its edge, thus drawing the attention of even the most easily-distracted of his crew.

"Follow that frigate!" the Samurott barked. "Wherever it's going, I want it in my sight until it's either docked or at the bottom of the sea!"

The crew hurriedly took their places, lowering the sails and hoisting the anchor for the escorts to lurch the ship forward thanks to their efforts. The Nektar Weide began to pick up speed, tearing through the waves after the frigate in the distance. All the while, Lyn glowered after his target, his left paw still tightly clutching his seamitar as he stared after his prize's thief. He'd come this far to finally clearing his mission and ascending to the Board, and it'd be a snowy day in midsummer if he let some drowned sea bug steal it all from under his nose!


As Lyn and his ship stalked the Vasilek over the open waves, the humble Siglo Swellow quietly pulled into Copperband's port. The schooner pulled up to the dock, and the ship's Hitmontop first mate oversaw the escorts and some dutiful deckhands as they set about the process of lowering the anchor and tying down the moorings. Satisfied that everything was proceeding properly, he turned to Natrix and Philips as they spirited a wooden board over to the side.

"Lower the gangplank!"

At the Hitmontop's command, the worn, wooden gangplank was lowered to the waiting dock as Pokémon clambered down, working with sea escorts to moor the ship along the pier. After the ship was fastened, Pokémon from the crew began to disembark with emptied crates and rubbish, among them Crom, his father, and their companions.

"Gah… how can Pokémon work in this weather?" Crom whined. "It's baking hot right now!"

"Heh, much like they do at home," Pladur chuckled. "Work in the shade, and take a nice long siesta during the midday."

"Well, there's no shade anywhere on these docks," Ander sighed. "So let's hurry up and get rid of these crates."

"Agreed," Dimitri added. "Some of us need to worry about staying hydrated here!"

One by one, the group picked up damaged and worn-out crates to be disposed of, Crom following dutifully after his father and team captain onto the crowded docks. Along the way, snippets of conversations filtered around, about journeys and faraway sweethearts, pay and customs, but it was the words of the chittering voice of a Crabrawler in particular that most caught the young dragon's attention.

"What was with that scuffle that happened earlier?" the Crabrawler asked.

"Some pirate scouts got caught while that Navy captain was in town," a Muk answered. "She took off with the ones that got caught not too long ago."

"Eh? Sure seemed like an awfully big fuss over a few scouts..." the crab answered.

"Nah, the Empire doing too much is a nice change from them normally doing too little," the Poison-Type scoffed. "Besides, those bandit thugs had something coming if they thought they could just waltz around town like it's Orleigh!"

Crom and his team exchanged hesitant glances at the mention of "pirate scouts". Every town had a few bad eggs, but the presence of scouts wasn't a harbinger of something worse coming along, was it? Security didn't seem that weak when they came in… but even so, just how well would this dusty town fend off a large assault?

"Pirate scouts?" Crom murmured. "Navy captain?"

The Druddigon and his companions paused and glanced around the harbor before their eyes settled off in the distance. There beyond the harbor's entrance was a three-masted frigate with indigo sails sailing off for the horizon… Was that the naval ship?

"Must've been whoever's on that ship right now," Kiran replied. "But I suppose you can't really argue with keeping some pirates in line."

Dimitri shifted uneasily a bit at the explanation, before peering out at the horizon. Even for an island relatively close to Orleigh, the timing for catching pirates here in town seemed suspiciously convenient, and the ship's shape looked vaguely familiar... had he and the rod swum past it before during one of their migrations?

"I dunno, something about all of this doesn't add up for some reason..." the Kabutops muttered.

Dimitri returned to his work with his teammates, setting his crates down on a cleared space at the edge of the docks. Crom, Pladur, Kiran, and Ander quickly followed suit, the Fraxure among them dusting his claws off and looking satisfied at their work.

"Alright, that should be it for now," Pladur said. "Let's head into town so we can find some leads about the Protector… and maybe a cold drink."

The five made their way inland under the sweltering heat, passing through narrow, winding alleyways between adobe huts. Life in the town seemed quiet, if with a lingering sense of unsettledness. Crom noticed a Camerupt in guard attire who seemed particularly cantankerous, looking here and there for someone or something; and further along, a Bibarel selling casks of water chattered uneasily about a disturbance at a local inn with a Bayleef customer. As they carried on, the group quickly learned to walk under awnings and tarps that had been hung up to provide shade, though they were harder pressed to find relief from the dust and hot sand underfoot which began to cake on their toes.

"There sure is a lot of sand around here…" Crom complained.

"Well, those are deserts alright," Dimitri explained. "Sand, dryness, and very hot temperatures during the day."

Dimitri trailed off, feeling the strangest sensation of deja vu. After thinking back to the fateful journey across Spirit Trench that started this whole chase, he suddenly remembered why his words felt so familiar.

"It's funny…" the Kabutops murmured. "It's actually what I explained to your other teammates as well."

"Eh? You did? Did they also ask about what the Pokémon here do?" Crom asked. "How are any plants supposed to grow like this?"

"Well, a lot of the Pokémon here, both in town and in the wilderness are adapted to living life without a lot of food and water," the Kabutops explained. "To make ends meet, they dig out copper and other metals-"

WHUMP!

The five of them stumbled, jolting upright as a small, nearby tremor shook the earth under their feet. The group steadied themselves as best they could and searched frantically around for the cause of the shaking.

"Answer me!" a booming voice roared. "Why were those kids taken away?!"

Kiran ruffled his feathers and turned to see a Sandygast with a much-thinned sand layer towing a slouching Maractus with a bandaged stomach in a simple pull cart. The pair peered up unnervedly and when following their gazes it was hard to fault them. Directly in front and looming over the two was a glaring Tyranitar, with fangs bared and a visibly impatient demeanor.

"R-Rauhoitu, Aulis!" the Maractus stammered. "They were reported as Pokémon of interest to the crown!"

"Yeah, they might not have looked the part, but the piracy charges had to have come for a reason!" the Sandygast insisted.

"What reason?!" Aulis snapped. "Just how much trouble can a Nidoran, a Growlithe, a Cubone, and a fat Wingull cause?"

The group's jaws dropped at the Tyranitar's words. A Nidoran? A Growlithe? A 'Wingull'? They didn't know anything about a Cubone, but that description could only be...

"Gark!" Kiran squawked. "That's the kids!"

"Wait," Pladur murmured. "You guys never mentioned anything about a Cub-"

"Excuse me!"

Kiran and the others watched as Crom made a beeline for the three strangers, waving his arms frantically to gain their attention. Aulis paused mid-sentence with a surprised grunt before glancing backward to see the energetic young dragon.

"Eh? Who are-?"

Crom's teammates hastily hurried after the young dragon, hoping that he hadn't run headfirst into a local mess. The two battered guards also turned their attention to their newfound interlopers. Sensing an opportunity to give their cantankerous interrogator the slip, the Maractus spoke up while his supporting Sandygast partner quietly inched away.

"Whelp, looks like you're busy now," the Grass-Type said, hastily clearing his throat.

"Yeah, we got more stuff to take care off anyway," the Sandygast added. "See ya!"

The Sandygast hastily slunk away with his Maractus counterpart, leaving the towering Rock-Type to glare after them. Aulis gave an annoyed bat of his tail, before whirling around and training his attention onto the white-scarved sailors, much to their gulping unease.

"What do you want?" the Tyranitar growled.

Crom hopped back and folded his wings against his body, shrinking back from the cantankerous giant of a Rock-Type. The Dragon-Type struggled with his words, trying to work up the courage to ask the stranger the question he needed answered.

"Well... uhm…" Crom stammered. "I heard you talking about a Nidoran, a Growlithe and a Wingull and I was just wondering how you knew them…"

"They fell down a ledge at the mining pits yesterday," Aulis explained. "They said they'd come from the dungeon and they certainly had the scuffs to prove it, so I took them here to town to try and rest. Next thing I know, they're gone under charges of 'piracy'."

"Did you see who took them?" Dimitri prodded.

With a curt grunt, the Tyranitar shook his head, wearing a grimace that clearly displayed his contention towards the situation.

"I wasn't there when they were taken," he sighed. "Trust me, if I was, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"I see…" Crom murmured.

"But, those guards did tell me a Clawitzer Navy Captain took them with her while I was still helping to open the mine."

Crom and the others froze at the mention of the Clawitzer. It could very well be a different one, but the strange Clawitzer they encountered on Boisocéan and Kenobi did seem unusually interested in Pleo... The group - save for Dimitri - stood silent and shocked, Aulis carrying on without noticing their change in demeanor.

"I would have pressed for more details and found out why she took them," the Rock-Type answered. "But you guys..."

The Armor Pokémon trailed off, noticing that his audience had grown wide-eyed and pallid at his words. The Tyranitar blinked, wondering if he had said something amiss.

"Eh? What's gotten into you? You look like you've seen a dead 'mon walking!"

"That ship," Ander demanded. "Where's it going?"

"I was told it was going to Giotto- Huh?!"

Without waiting to hear the rest of Aulis' explanation, Crom turned and bolted in the direction of the docks as fast as his limbs would carry him. The Tyranitar blinked before spluttering in annoyance.

"Hey!" Aulis growled. "I was in the middle of explaining something here!"

Much to the stone lizard's irritation, the Druddigon completely ignored his scolding. On top of that, the Fraxure of the group stared blankly and did a double-take towards the retreating Druddigon, alarm flashing across his face

"Crom!" Pladur cried. "Wait! Don't run off like that!"

The Dragon-Type took off running after his son, leaving behind their three companions and a befuddled and increasingly annoyed Tyranitar. Aulis' remaining audience turned to the Rock-Type to offer a sheepish explanation for their teammates' hurried exit.

"Eh... don't mind him," Ander said. "It's just that that Nidoran, Growlithe and 'Wingull' you mentioned are his teammates."

"Who are you all?" Aulis demanded.

"Some friends of those children," Kiran explained. "We've been looking for them for a while now."

"We should probably get going as well now," Dimitri murmured. "If the kids are in trouble, then time is of the essence to help them."

Kiran, Ander and Dimitri each gave a small wave before turning to rush after Pladur, leaving Aulis to stare off puzzledly and give a hesitant wave to their backs as they darted off. The three wove their way through the streets of Copperband in the direction of the docks, just in time to catch Pladur in a full sprint after his son as the Druddigon darted up the gangplank back onto the deck of the Siglo Swellow.

"Hah… Hah..." Pladur panted. "Don't run off like-!"

"Captain Beatrix! Captain Beatrix!" Crom cried. "We need to leave right now!"

The Illumise looked up from a small stack of paperwork on stationery with leaf designs, twitching her antennae out of surprise.

"Eh?" the captain asked. "What are you going on about?"

"Pleo's on that ship over there on the horizon!" the Druddigon exclaimed.

"Huh?!"

At once, an outcry broke out among the gathered sailors at the mention of Pleo being on the ship in the distance. Just then, Beatrix saw Kiran, Ander, and Dimitri ran up, and immediately turned to them for an explanation.

"Kiran, Pladur," Beatrix demanded. "What is he going on about?"

"A local tipped us off that an Imperial nabbed Pleo and sailed off just before we got here," Kiran explained.

"It's the frigate off in the distance," Dimitri said, gesturing to the distant ship with a scythe. "If we hurry, we can keep it in sighting distance!"

Captain Beatrix looked off at the ship in the distance. She thought long and hard about what pursuing after the Imperial ship would entail… and what she risked by letting it sail off. After a long pause, the firefly shook her head, before turning to her Hitmontop first mate.

"… Vicente, give the order to pull the moorings up."

The Hitmontop straightened up with a start, giving an incredulous stare at the Illumise captain. Beatrix wanted them to leave already without bothering to restock?

"Eh?! Captain?!" Vicente exclaimed. "We just arrived-!"

"Ya lo sé!" the Illumise insisted. "Just do it!"

The Fighting-Type raised the cry to lift the anchor and set sail, throwing the Siglo Swellow into a flurry of activity. The deckhands on the dock hastily clambered back onto the schooner, the moorings were undone, and the stone anchor brought back on deck. With a whip of the air and water by the escorts, the ship lurched away from the dock, tearing away at an increasingly quick clip away from the adobe town for the deep blue of the open sea.

"Follow that frigate!" Beatrix buzzed. "Don't let it out of your sight! Our Protector is aboard it!"

And so the Siglo Swellow carried on, slicing through the waves after the indigo-sailed ship in the distance. Their task of retrieving had undoubtedly grown far more complicated, but this was the closest they had ever gotten to finally bringing their Protector and Team Traveller's missing members back home. A wave of determined vigor washed over the tired crew, one shared thought settling over the gathered faces in spite of their anxiety and fatigue...

They were not going to let those kids go without a fight.


At that moment, further south a two-masted ship with white sails bearing blue waterspout patterns bobbed along the waves. The crew was kept busy both on deck and off it, the deckhands manipulating the Mistral Marauder's purloined sails to best catch the tailwind whipped up by the aerial escorts as Hess kept a firm claw on the tiller to steer the ship along in the current the sea escorts had stirred up. All the while, the Steel-Type perched himself on the bow and kept focusing intently off in the distance, waiting for the impending arrival of Sormus over the horizon. His eagerness was lost on a good deal of his crew however, including a puzzled-looking Wimpod who scuttled up near his feet.

"Remind me why we're flying these sails we stole from those hicks again?" the Bug-Type asked.

"The mission the Council gave us could take a bit longer than one of our normal smash and grabs," Rodion explained. "We'd be better off flying colors that won't get us attacked whenever we pass some random island before finding the bird."

The Floatzel's explanation drew sour frowns from the nearby crewmembers. After everything they'd gone through in the past couple of weeks, now they couldn't even fly their own colors?

"Egh… we'd better get a big reward for giving up our pride like this," a Litten grumbled.

"Hey! Enough bellyaching!" the Aggron captain shouted. "Sormus is just coming over the horizon!"

Hess pointed to the horizon, where sure enough the sun-bleached sandy dunes of Sormus poked into view. The response among the crew was mixed, some breathing sighs of relief to have finally arrived at their destination while others grumbled bitterly amongst themselves, questioning the worth of this detour in the first place.

"So what are we doing once we hit land again?" Kichiro demanded.

"Uh… well…" Hess began. The Steel-Type fumbled with words for a moment, before starting to think through the matter. The first thing to be done would be to find out where the Protector was, and that couldn't be too much different from prepping ahead for a raid, right?

"We're going to need to send out some scouts, and- Huh?"

Hess trailed off as he caught movement on the horizon out of the corner of his eye. Grumbling, he reached for the scope nestled in a holster on his hip to get a better view of the unidentified vessel. Through the spyglass he was able to make out the craft's white sails printed with a waterspout pattern akin to that of the Mistral Marauder. There on the deck were some aggravatingly familiar faces, including the Illumise and Hitmontop manning the tiller, and the duo of Raichu and Servine slacking off under the crow's nest. To top it off, much to the detriment of his blood pressure, he spotted a group consisting of a young Druddigon, a Fraxure, a Swellow, and a Marked Scyther looking out along the railing.

"Grr…"

Rodion grimaced as he watched Hess' expression sour in response to whatever he'd seen through the scope. After a moment's pause, the Floatzel cleared his throat and set out to figure out the problem... carefully.

"Something the matter, Captain?" the Water-Type asked.

"Yeah, there's been change of plans," Hess growled. "That 'Sickly Swellow' we ambushed east of Kenobi's here, and it's sailing off."

"… So? We already robbed them once already!" an Octillery protested.

"Yeah, why are we supposed to pass up the Protector for them again?" a Pawniard demanded. "Sounds like some mixed-up priorities."

"Because if that bird was on Sormus, those dweebs wouldn't be sailing away from the island!" the Aggron exclaimed. "So they must have found a lead to where he is right now!"

The Steel-Type's words drew skeptical mutters and traded glances among the gathered crew. Few seemed pleased about the captain's abrupt change of mind, least of all a visibly irritated Ledian flitting his wings near the rigging.

"Oh, so now you don't want to go to Sormus?" Kichiro scoffed.

"Yeah, what's in it for us?" a Staravia protested.

Hess stomped the deck and scowled at the gathered Pokémon, hoping a show of force would bring them in line. The ship rocked a bit, only for the crew's skepticism to remain unmoved, prompting the Aggron to roll his eyes and attempt an appeal to their baser instincts.

"There's a case of rum under in the steerage," the Steel-Type sighed. "I'll break it out if we change course."

At once the crew's demeanor became visibly more energized. From the top of the masts to the surrounding seas, the mention of rum made the brigands' eyes light up with newfound enthusiasm.

"Works for me!" a Seadra from the water exclaimed.

"Yeah!" the Litten added. "Let's change course!"

Hess threw a palm over his face with an exasperated sigh. It was certainly one way of motivating the crew, but even so… did it have to work this often?

"… Really?"

"Well, on a positive note, it shouldn't be that hard to snatch a replacement case in the next port," Rodion offered.

"Yeah, yeah…" Hess muttered. "But let's get this show on the road already."

The Aggron waited a moment, only for the gathered Pokémon to remain in place watching him. Hess scowled and shook his head with a grumble before turning to the Mistral Marauder's crew, giving an impatient slap of his tail against the deck's timbers.

"Oi! Hurry up! Take us hard to port!" he bellowed. "I want that schooner in my scope until we hit the next port!"

The ship lurched as the air escorts whipped up a tailwind, prompting Rodion to take the tiller and turn hard to port and after the Siglo Swellow. All the while, Hess made his way to the bow and watched intently after the schooner, trying to tease out why they'd come to Sormus only to leave again. Had they both already been beaten to the punch? Well, no matter, it wasn't as if he couldn't just nab the Protector from whoever had him...

Hopefully.


Author's Notes:

- fregatti - Finnish: "frigate"
- Hyvää iltaa - Finnish: "Good evening"
- dōmo (どうも) - Japanese: Multipurpose Japanese interjection, meaning informal "thanks" in this context. (Hepburn Romanization)
- Gracías - Spanish: "Thank you"
- Nie ruszaj się! - Polish: "Hold it!" / "Don't move!" / "Stop right there!"
- Nie ma mowy! - Polish: "No way!"
- Rauhoitu - Finnish: "Calm down!" / "Settle down!"
- Ya lo sé! - Spanish: "I know that!"