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Chap. 51: Turning of the Coat?
Miguel Cervantes was not a brave man, and he knew it. He was not particularly smart, even, though he was fairly sure he qualified as 'above average' in intellect. Given to flights of fancy and imagination that made his job as a researcher harder, he had utterly failed out of the academic world as a whole. Three different research and development agencies had hired him based on his higher education grades and certificates... and all three had fired him for basically being delusional.
Was he delusional? Maybe. He could admit that. At any rate, his former employers had said more than once, "Your crackpot conspiracy theories have no place in rational science. You're a good researcher, dedicated, but other realities besides our own sending an invasion force? Come on, Miguel..."
Hah. He had, eventually, found people that believed him. And now they had proof. Two of the invaders were right there, and his world's people, Agents in his new employer's employment arm, were kicking the crap out of two invaders and their misappropriated, stolen Pokémon.
Miguel Cervantes was a lot of things. Timid, scared, maybe even paranoid and delusional. There were certainly therapists who thought the last part, even if his delusions had been proven true. But he was, in fact, a good researcher. A man who paid attention to the details, and learned all he could, whenever he could.
The crazy woman, Jessie, was hot as hell... but he'd never want to fuck her, he didn't want her kind of sado-sexuality anywhere near himself. Her partner, James, was even more frightening in many ways, as a man who had been born to wealth and given it up for the chance to practice cruelty that even all his parents' money could not protect him from. And their talking Meowth... well, that thing was an abomination.
He hated it. Hated them all, almost as much as he hated those who mocked him for being able to see what they could not. Team Rocket paid well, and they gave him some respect. Some. He'd stayed with them for that reason alone. The carte blanche to fuck all the Pokémon he could catch? Eh, that didn't appeal to him. He didn't judge those who did (and there were a great many in Team Rocket with the morals of a three year old bully), at least not for that, but he was perfectly content with the occasional prostitute when he got to vacation in Cerulean, or one of Executive Ariana's satellite bases. Er... brothels.
But these two? Jessie, James, and that damnable Meowth?
They were the worst. They had done nothing but browbeat, threaten, and occasionally actual beat him since they had arrived. He had hoped that Operative Vaan, when he took over temporary leadership of the Mt. Moon Operation, would have straightened things out. He'd heard good things about the up-and-coming Rocket, after all. No-nonsense, effective, but also very fair to his underlings? That sounded like a true gem in the roughage of Team Rocket, almost as rare as they would be in the corporate world he'd once worked in.
But these two...
The girl (cute, though not his type) and the young man were trying. They were almost, almost able to fight back effectively. Their strongest Pokémon could go up against that demonic feline-'mon, anyway. Two- or three-on-one. But the rest of the girl's team couldn't stand up to James' Starter Koffing, which he suspected could have Evolved long ago if he cared to, and Jessie... well, she was a sadist of the highest order, and a superior martial artist. The boy wasn't bad, Miguel thought, but he wasn't any match for her. Her Ekans being on the field ruined whatever chance they might've had.
That didn't mean they stood no chance, though.
There was always a chance for victory, even if it seemed impossible. A lifetime of being ridiculed before finding success had taught him that. Even if the success was qualified, it was something. But what was the cost? Serving an organization he knew to be morally less-than-good (for he'd seen plenty of evidence with his own eyes, and even helped them with it) had given him a comfortable enough life these last several years. But was it worth it? How much damage had his research done? Excavating Moon Stones and Fossils... Rocket's Ancient-Pokémon Revival Project, "A-PERP," was only viable because of him and his research. The Moon Stones were not only useful for Evolving many Pokémon, but as fuel for revitalizing long-dead DNA. That research he had come up with.
All to stop these invaders (and of course, to get rich).
Now...
Now, he...
Fingers tightened on a basic, red and white Pokéball. He was no match for them. Even the girl, arguably weaker than her lover, would stomp him and his team. The two insane Agents?
It wouldn't even be a contest.
What harm had he done, though, in helping Rocket? It didn't matter, he supposed. It was done, and time travel seemed as immutable a barrier as it had ever been. Perhaps Dialga truly did watch over the domain of Time from a world of constant temporal flux, but to him, to them, it was only ever forward. Inevitable. That didn't mean the course couldn't be changed, however. Miguel swallowed past the lump of fear. It was difficult, but somehow, he managed.
Miguel Cervantes was not a brave man, and he had done terrible harm in his search for greed, and research without restraint. In his search for belonging. How much harm, he might never know. After all, he probably wouldn't live to see it. "Go, Magnemite," he whispered, and as his own Starter Pokémon appeared in a muted flash of grey and yellow, he pointed, and gave an order. "Thunder Wave that crazy bitch."
His Magnemite hesitated... Fear washed through its own singular eye as it looked back toward him, wanting to confirm what he had just ordered.
Miguel nodded. "Yes, her. Once you zap her, hit that rich bastard with it, too."
Zzzbh-Chhhrrr-bvvt.
Magnemite and their line, unusual to most Pokémon, did not really speak using variations of their 'name', but in electrical or even electronic sounds. Some, such as more intelligent Magnezone, could mimic speech by copying words and phrases from the radio signals humans used after learning of them from the Magnemite line. His own wasn't that powerful, or that strong, but it was reasonably intelligent, and Miguel had learned that particular set of tones quite well. It basically meant, 'if you're sure...'.
He wasn't, but Miguel didn't care. He gave the order, and his Magnemite listened.
Alex Ward was in agony. The magenta-haired woman was kicking the literal life from him, laughing all the while. Her fists would occasionally lash out across his jaw, or into his stomach, with pounding force, but it was her knees and booted feet that were doing most of the damage. He couldn't even stop her. Years of self-defense training at his father's insistence had instilled Alex with a fair bit of confidence that he could, in fact, defend himself physically from most opponents.
Apparently, this Jessie woman was not 'most opponents'. Or maybe she just hadn't gotten the memo that he wasn't bad himself. Her crescent kicks, among the most difficult to pull off in a real fight since they could leave a user very off-balance and high-centered, not to mention vulnerable, were lightning-fast, so quick that he hadn't been able to block one. The best he had managed was a single backwards lean that let one out of a half-dozen pass by his head.
Yes, the panty-shots might have been nice, if he was being brutally murdered by a set of black boots. But he was, so they weren't.
The side-kicks sent him back two, three feet if he was able to block or soak the blow in some way. If he couldn't, they knocked him to the ground, tumbling and rolling backward. A forward thrust smashed into his solar plexus with unnerring accuracy and the force of a hammer, driving all the wind from him early on. It left him disoriented and in agony, his vision black except for a small, narrow tunnel as his stunned diaphragm fought to work despite the pain.
The lack of vision only worked in his opponent's favor. He tried to issue commands to his team, but every time, she was there to hit him again. He tried to fight back, to catch her powerful legs, to strike on his own, to kick her in turn...
It all failed. She was just too fast, too strong.
Like he was a Rock-type, and her a Fighting-type, Jessie seemed able to counter everything he did, and it only ended up getting him hurt worse.
He hurt. He was sore. If it wasn't for what he knew would happen to Elle if he lost, Alex would have given up minutes of torture earlier. But as it was, he could only brace himself for another attack, and hope desperately that he lived long enough for help to arrive, or for Elle to pull out a miraculous victory of her own.
He saw Jessie dash forward again, zig-zagging in his blurred double-vision. Was she using a Pokémon Move to do that...? Her body leaped into the air, an axe-kick aiming for his head, and he raised his bruised, battered arms to try and absorb as much of the blow as he could. They were too slow, too late, too damaged.
He was too weak.
He was going to be knocked out, or killed, his neck snapped, and Elle would be sold into forced prostitution.
Then Jessie screamed.
Not one of anger, or rage, or even horrible sadistic amusement, but a scream of pain.
Alex lowered his crossed arms, and stared, as she writhed in sudden agony on the stone floor of the massive cavern. He had just enough time to notice that the miners were still working, but some had stopped and formed a distant line that was slowly advancing toward their battle. They were hundreds of feet away, out of range to help, but it was coming, eventually. Unless they were working with Rocket, in which case, Alex didn't know what they would do.
There was also a Magnemite floating between Jessie and the bleeding scientist. Out of its polarized limbs, two arcs of yellow-white energy merged and flashed in front of it, coalescing into a wider, brighter golden, jagged beam of light. Light that played around Jessie, flashing along with the smell of burnt flesh as it pulsed, arced, and snapped.
"H- Him," the scientist croaked, "Get- Get the rich bastard next."
James was already turning, snarling, "Ekans, eat that traitor!"
The snake obeyed, twisting and coiling on itself as it changed direction from attacking Nike, bulbous and swollen from Stockpile, to go back after the scientist. The snake was fast, even so, but not as fast as electricity itself.
James shrieked too as the Thunder Wave hit him, high and girlish.
The Ekans bit down, hard, on the Magnemite with what he guessed through the split, bloody vision he had left, was a Poison Fang.
It did very little, but it did distract the smaller Pokémon, who turned to zap the Pokémon that had it in its mouth. From within, even with his head spinning, Alex could see flashes of electricity illuminate the ribcage of the massive purple- and gold-scaled serpent, rolling down it like some sort of macabre science experiment. "B- Bite," Jessie hissed through clenched teeth, her own body still arcing and spasming.
The purple coating around the Ekans' teeth changed in an instant despite the Thunder Wave it was suffering from too. It turned to black shadow, and suddenly, the long, wickedly sharp teeth bit deep into the steel body of the Magnemite. It let out a high-pitched keen... but it didn't stop.
Somehow, Alex lurched to his feet. The world, the cavern, swam and swayed beneath him, but he was upright. At least, he thought he was. Maybe he was actively falling? His senses were too disoriented to say for sure. But he had to try... something. Anything. "Want me...?" he grunted, "T- Take me, bitch."
Then he kicked out, as hard as he could... only to fall, his blurred vision had made him miss. But his elbow stills truck Jessie's nose on the way down, and she hissed in pain this time rather than an order. Up close, she was still horrendously strong, far stronger than any human should be, but her muscle control was still shot, her body moving in spasmodic, haywire fashion as the electricity still played havoc with her nervous system. On the other hand, Alex was battered and nearly unconscious, but at least his muscles weren't betraying him.
Two, six, fifteen, thirty times or so, (he lost track after the first few, if he were honest later in his life), Alex's fists rained down on Jessie's body. It still felt like punching a steel wall, but by the tenth or eleventh, or something like it, the woman's hands came up to protect her face and throat in a style very similar to a boxer's. He didn't stop.
Not even when her knee came up between his legs, because somehow, she kneed his coccyx rather than his nut sack, and all it did was make him bounce. He kept punching, even though she switched tactics as the Thunder Wave started to wear off, and hit him back, too, a wild haymaker against his temple that was already bruised, and knocked him off her completely.
They rose to shaky feet at the same time. Alex was panting, gasping, one hand over his ribs where he was sure two were broken. Jessie's mouth and one eye were red with blood, and she wiped it with one hand, her eyes liked on his, then licked it with an insane, crimson grin. "Tasty... ooh, I'm really gonna enjoy breaking you, big man.. didn't your Mama ever teach you not to hit a woman?"
"Mama told me to fight back against anyone who threw the first punch," he shot back, hoping it sounded as manly and strong coming out of his croaking, swollen larynx as it did in his head.
Jessie only laughed, and limped toward him again, an off-balance lope that closed the distance quickly, but not nearly as quickly as she had the first two times. Alex set himself, ready for her reach this time.
He hoped.
Elle resisted the urge to cheer as James' body went rigid, but just barely. Unlike Alex, she had a moment to breathe herself while her Pokémon were doing the heavy lifting of combat. Yes, they were losing quite as badly after that Clear Smog, but she was still in the game herself.
Even if her slight body would be useless in the kind of slugging match Alex and that madwoman were engaged in, she could do this.
Watching Alex stand up and try to kick the woman, then start wailing on her with his fists while he straddled her waist (which would've turned her on in most other circumstances, Elle was aware, but just then only felt like vindication) was satisfying... but so was what happened next. "Quick, Morpheus, blast that Koffing with as many Confusions as you can manage! Nike, why don't you try Mirror Move- use it on the Meowth! That's right, baby, turn his claws against him!"
She wasn't done there, either. Her own team was nearly as broken as Alex's, but they were still up and fighting, at least mostly. Cock and Lingus were still going at it tooth and nail against the rabid-looking Meowth, but with Nike joining in, they might be able to turn the tide. That labcoat-guy had just bought them precious time, and she would not let it go to waste. The Ekans was busy eating the guy's Magnemite, okay, she could just let that happen. It was sad for the Pokémon, but in the natural world, it would've been prey anyway, right? And if not, well... he was still a bad guy, traitor or no.
At least, she hoped he was.
"Grimer," he croaked, and Elle recoiled at the noxious pile of sludge that appeared out of the next Pokéball to enter the fracas. It was more foul than even the Koffing's Sludge! Only it was about to get worse. "Sludge Bomb on that nasty Meowth!"
"Traitor," James, the purple-haired man she had just been fighting, roared, his body wracked with what looked to her like epileptic fits from the electrical attack, "You'll- aaargh! You'll die for this!"
"Wh- Whatever," the scientist grunted, levering himself to his feet, "It's... worth it, if I can shut... shut you up! You and your crazy partner are... nuts."
"Don't call me crazy!" Jessie suddenly screamed, and James bore the brunt as she somehow bodily threw Alex a half-dozen feet, bowling both of them over.
Elle gasped and leaped back, narrowly getting out of the way of the four men's feet and legs that were tangled together. "Kole, blast that bitch with an Ember!"
Somehow, Jessie dodged the fire attack, and she leaped for Elle next, one hand in the air to pummel her into the ground, and...
Her body seized mid-air, the Thunder Wave still having a residual effect. Elle kicked too, and caught her in the side, then turned and ran a dozen steps back. Jessie had closed that distance in seconds, but she was just getting back to her feet, now. "What's the matter, bitch? Your crazy-ass body not working?"
"Don't! Call! Me! Crazy!" Jessie shrieked, as shadow began to pour from her body. Out of her mouth, her tear ducts, her ears, her nostrils, and even the seems of her clothes, darkness like liquid smoke ran out, coiling and twisting around her.
She threw a punch.
From fifteen feet away, it connected with Elle's stomach hard enough to throw her to the ground, doubling her over in pain as her dirty shoes slid back. "Oof! What- what the fuck?"
"Shadow Punch," Jessie gasped, bent over with her hands on bloody knees. "Got some kick, doesn't it, kid? Don't worry... maybe I'll fuck you a few times before Ariana gets to you, too. You got some fight in you, at- at least."
Elle's eyes widened. Not at the threat, that had been made before. At what she had just learned. "Shadow Punch? You can... you can do Pokémon attacks?"
Jessie grinned and spat blood out onto the ground as Alex seemed to gain the upper hand on James. Their positions were much the same as he had been with Jessie, only James was curled on his side in a fetal position while Alex hit him again and again.
With greater numbers against it, the Meowth was struggling too, hissing and snarling as it fought to withdraw.
"Not Pokémon attacks, my attacks," Jessie explained with pride, pointing at herself with a bruised, blackened thumbnail, "Took me five years to master that move... comes in handy now and then. What? You didn't know Humans had Types, too? Well, sucks to be you, Invader. You'll never know what yours is, I guess. Here's some more!"
She lunged forward, both hands streaming black smoke.
"Shadow Punch!"
It wasn't Jessie that said it, but Elle.
Loki had been waiting, biding his time, nearly invisible, for just this moment. When their opponents were too cocky.
His timing was perfect, blasting with his spherical body through Jessie's head as she leaned forward.
Despite having nearly no mass at all, the force of his attack blasted the magenta-haired Rocket backward, spinning in the air to land on her back, driving the wind from her lungs yet again. "Get her, Loki! Shadow Punch again!"
"Dark Slash," James screamed, "At the Gastly, Meowth!"
In an instant, despite fighting independently for the entire confrontation, the Meowth snarled, hissing, and hurled itself a dozen feet into the air in a mighty pounce. A pounce that covered the distance as black claws, darker than night or even what had come from Jessie's eyes, rippled around it as it raised the hands.
Elle whipped out her Starter's Pokéball, and withdrew him at the last moment. The Meowth landed on all four feet, displaying incredible agility, then jumped again despite its own bleeding, shredded flesh. Not for her, or Alex, but for the scientist.
Black claws raked across his throat. "Come on, we gotta skedaddle," the Meowth snarled, "We've lost, this time."
"I don't... think so," Jessie laughed, "They might've driven us off, but we got everything we need. Have fun, you two..."
Elle watched, horrified, as Jessie pulled out, from somewhere, a heavy-looking pistol and leveled it at Alex's forehead. "I'd stop if I were you, fuckboy. My partner's not as sturdy as I am, and if you permanently mar his pretty face, I'll never hear the end of it."
Alex, wisely, did stop hitting James, who shoved him off angrily the moment he had a chance. His eyes were both swollen, his lip and nose pouring blood, as he scampered very un-gracefully to his feet. Still, he smiled, almost benignly, at Alex, who didn't dare move. "Ah, such a fun little dust-up. Don't worry, you two, I'm sure we'll see you again. Invaders like you should be watched closely, after all... tah-tah!"
Then they turned, Jessie lifting the gun overhead to fire at the ceiling as they walked away.
The report made Elle flinch... but not as much as the dust and pebbles that came falling from the ceiling high above. That round had been live!
No one dared stop them.
And the miners? Elle stared as they... went back to work.
She scrambled over to Alex, who waved her on, "The scientist."
Her sole Super Potion should have gone to Alex, but she knew better than to argue. The other man was dying. Would be dead in moments, she was sure, for his throat was ripped open in a bloody display, and crimson had to be flooding his lungs, just as it was the floor of the cavern.
Yet, somehow, the spray worked. The wounds closed. And, after several minutes, Miguel sat up, pale, but alive. "I... I'm alive...?"
"You might owe me one," Elle exhaled, "and you definitely owe him one."
Miguel followed her gaze to Alex, and nodded, "A- Alright. I... I mean, I thought you might owe me one, but... that's... that's fair. I am with Rocket, after all. Or... Or I was."
"That's right," Alex grunted, "and now you'd better start talking."
Miguel Cervantes was not a brave man. But he was also not a fool. "Oh... I don't think I will, not yet. You see, my Pokémon? Two are hurt... and two more are not. Your teams are on their last legs. I'm not going to fight you... I was hoping you'd be able to kill those two lunatics. But since you didn't, I need to get moving. I have to get out of here before they send a kill team. You'd best be moving, too." Then, louder, "And all you fuckwit brutes and your chicken-shit work had better clear out too, before Rocket gets Operative Vaan's Charizard to Blast Burn this whole cavern to hide the evidence!"
In the mad scramble that resulted, Elle and Alex had no chance to follow the scientist, or to ask any very important questions.
It was all they could do to escape the cave, too, following amid the crowd of dusty, dirty miners and their Pokémon.