Wow, "last month" didn't even turn up Chapter 93. That takes procrastination to do. And to think, when November comes around I can crank out a 50000-word novella in that month, but in June I can't even crank out a whatever-word chapter of SS? It makes me feel bad, really. I should be able to finish the series sometime this summer, though, which will be good news to the few people who continue to read SS chapter after chapter after chapter. I could throw a whole slew of excuses out left and right, but I respect the intelligence of my readers enough to know to call me out on trying to snow them, so I'll just cite my own laziness and never being able to make time to write SS. I'm not proud of it, but at least I'm telling the truth on this one. So, on to the chapter.
-----------------------------------------------------
Lance paced back and forth, back and forth across the floor of the Nightshade police headquarters. Several Officer Jennies were around, and a few other policemen, but the place was just in a complete panic all the same. He watched the few camera feeds that were left after most of the main ones were knocked out by an unknown source.
Unknown to the police, at least. Lance was sure it was the Rocket Elite.
"You still have a connection with Charlie Evans?" Lance asked an Officer Jenny, after stopping deciselvely.
"I think so," Jenny said, taking off an earphone and pressing a few buttons on the console of the monitoring station.
"Get him on," Lance said. He didn't like this. The Pokémon battle he was watching had just turned bad after a strange Pokémon started to basically demolish its opposition. He'd heard rumour that Team Rocket had been experimenting with genetics again, but if this was their result, he was going to have to do something fast to stop it.
"Sir," Jenny said a few moments later, handing Lance a receiver.
"What the hell is going on over there?" Lance asked Charlie, a tone of severe irritation in his voice.
"Well," Charlie's voice was a bit scrambled from what was presumably interference, but it was understandable. "It looks like one of the Rockets has a genetically altered Pokémon. The challengers for the Elite Eight put up a bit of a fight, but they couldn't even hurt it."
Sounds like any normal Pokémon against one of Charlie's, Lance thought bitterly to himself.
"Should I do anything?" Charlie asked.
Lance thought for a moment. On one hand, he could easily have Charlie intervene, and his skill would probably halt the Rockets in their tracks. But on the other hand, he had too many unknown quantities, and Charlie could despite his awe-inspiring skill be outmatched.
"Sir?" Chalie asked.
"Stay where you are," Lance said. "Do you have any idea what Rockets we're up against?"
"It looks like an Elite and an Executive, from their uniform styling," Charlie sounded unsure of himself. "I can't tell who the Executive is, but the Elite looks like the one we've been having some trouble with in the past. He's got himself a Hitmonchan, but it looks like just an average Pokémon. It's the Executive that's controlling the genetic Pokémon."
"Have you heard any names at all?" Lance asked.
"No, sir, I... wait, someone's coming," Charlie said, and the line went dead.
Lance hit his fist on the edge of the table. "Damn it."
"We could be there in twenty minutes," Officer Jenny offered. "If we scramble a full tactical unit, we could be there in under thirty."
"No," Lance said. "Just get me there. I'll handle this personally."
Officer Jenny nodded.
A gunshot hit the wall Charlie Evans was hiding behind with a rather loud clang. This wasn't good, the Rockets had caught him by surprise. He didn't even chance a look to see who it was who attacked him. Instead, he took a few calming, deep breaths.
Charlie glanced across the hall to see if there were and doorways or turns his way. Being unarmed, the Rockets were advancing on him right at that moment. He didn't have to look around the corner to see that. He didn't see anywhere to hide. This left one option open to him.
"Go, Alakazam," Charlie muttered to himself, wondering why trainers had a habit of announcing their Pokémon regardless of the situation. "Halt any bullets that come our way."
"Kazam," Alakazam nodded, its eyes beginning to glow a pale blue.
Charlie heard a loud bang, which made his ears ring. Guns were certainly a lot louder in real life than they were on TV. It was not a small gun, either.
"Ala! Alakazam!" Charlie heard his Pokémon cry out. Charlie dimly wondered what the problem was. He looked and saw a short, blonde, female Rocket in a black uniform standing with what looked to be a .45 or similar. He knew this one, but he couldn't remember her name.
"Ala!" Alakazam continued, sounding quite distressed. Charlie blinked some haze out from his eyes and just now realized his jacket was getting wet. Weird, he thought.
Slowly, almost lazily, Charlie fingered his left shoulder. He drew back his fingers and they were wet and slimy with blood.
"Oh, crap," Charlie said the only thing that he seemed able to say. "I've been shot."
Charlie didn't question why he felt no pain. He also didn't question why Alakazam's eyes glowed fiercely, or why Domino didn't seem to be doing anything at all.
Alakazam held its arms straight outwards, one pointed at each of Charlie and Domino, a furious glare to its eyes.
"Kazam..." it growled.
"Right, he has a Psychic-type," Domino grumbled, the .45 in her hand ripping itself apart in midair. She also floated about an inch off the ground, just enough to be unable to do much of anything.
"Let her live," Charlie said weakly, the blood flow from his shoulder lessening. "Not worth sinking to their level."
"Kazam? Ala?" Alakazam asked.
"Just do it," Charlie knew he'd trained his Alakazam to be efficient, even brutal at times, and that meant finishing off opponents whenever you had the chance. But this time, he couldn't justify dropping down to the level of Team Rocket, no matter how he felt.
"Ala," Alakazam waved its spoon lazily, and Domino floated out, kicking and screaming. It then turned to Charlie, placing a spoon over the wound in his shoulder.
"Thanks," Charlie groaned as Alakazam's Recover started to heal the wound. The bullet came back out and clattered to the ground. He breathed heavily, and the blood flow ceased.
"Kazam," Alakazam said, breathing heavily as well. Targetting a Recover move took more talent than most any normal Pokémon could muster. Even Charlie's Alakazam had a great deal of trouble with it.
"Close one," Charlie remarked, standing up unsteadily.
"Sir, we're getting the line back," Officer Jenny's voice came over the police car's radio as another Officer Jenny was driving Lance to the Nightshade Coliseum.
"Put him through, then," Lance said, picking up the receiver.
"It's bad," Charlie Evans' voice came through surprisingly clearly.
"How bad?" Asked Lance.
"I've already run into one Rocket Elite, who actually managed to shoot me," Charlie sounded like his pride was wounded. "I managed to get rid of her, and don't worry about me, I'm fine. But there are definitely more Rockets here than we anticipated."
"About how many?" Lance asked.
"I caught sight of another group," Charlie said, "This one larger than the Elite group so far."
"Wait there," Lance ordered. "Only engage if they start the encounter. And by that, I mean without you luring them."
"Give me more credit than that," Charlie's voice was sardonic.
Lance covered the radio receiver with his other hand just long enough to ask, "Jenny how long?"
Officer Jenny, not in the least bit amused, shot Lance a glare as she drove already much more recklessly than it was apparent she wanted to be. Lance could tell that she wasn't at all amused, and Jenny held up her left hand, all four fingers and thumb extended.
Five minutes, then, Lance interpreted. He picked up the receiver again.
"I'll be there in just a few moments," Lance said. He looked out the window. He could see the coliseum now, growing larger in the windshield. The dull blare of the police siren was in the back of his mind. Really, he didn't even hear it unless he actively listened for it. The whole situation was dreamlike. He couldn't believe this was happening, and certainly couldn't believe he was about to try and go toe to toe with the upper echelons of Team Rocket directly.
Even if that fake Executive Kenneth didn't pan out, he still wasn't amused at having to fight this battle.
"Get here quickly," Charlie's voice was worried. "Some other Rockets just came and are talking to the Elite and Executive."
"Can you hear what they're saying?" Lance asked, his interest piqued.
"Not from here," Charlie said. "The newcomers just sent out two Pokémon. A Typhlosion and a Rapidash. The Rapidash has grey fire... and it's actually pretty shiny."
"Huh, now that's rare," Lance commented.
"We're here," Officer Jenny said curtly as she swung the police car around, passenger side door facing the coliseum entrance. "Now get moving."
Lance wordlessly exited the police car as he dashed to the coliseum entrance. The plate glass doors were locked for some reason, so he backed up and, without thinking, kicked through one. The glass itself wasn't very thick or strong, so his boot went through it on the second kick. His toes hurt, but that was the least of his problems. He attracted a few stares from the crowd around the coliseum, but he paid them no heed.
The lighting inside the coliseum entrance, like all the lighting in the city, was too bright, and Lance's eyes took a few moments to adjust to it. He sprinted pretty much at a full run through the now deserted hallways. It wasn't too hard to figure out how to get to the one place he wanted to get to: the actual fighting arena.
Almost out of breath, he got to one of the staircases leading up to the second level, the first level of the stands. He shook his head to himself in derision, and climbed them. His legs were burning, but he ignored it. He was in better physical condition than to just let a little bit of muscle pain stop him.
The doors leading out to the stands weren't too far from the staircase, and Lance just pushed them open and headed out. He grumbled to himself something about the god of death, a goat, and edible underwear, before he leapt at the railing blocking people from falling down into the arena proper, and jumping it.
Lance landed with a whump a ways away from the Rocket gathering. He looked around and saw that the doorway for the competitors wasn't too far off, and shuffled quietly over to it.
Charlie Evans was there, and nodded to Lance as he slunk in.
"I don't think the new group is at all friends with the first one," Charlie said, pointing at the black-uniformed Rocket Elite who was holding a gun at the other Rocket group, which consisted of three obvious Rockets, a green-haired man of about their age, the well-acclaimed Tschel Hakujin, and what looked to be a blonde girl he couldn't identify.
Lance looked over the standoff. He didn't like it.
"You would, you little birth defect of a 'male Jenny'" the brown-haired Rocket with the gun spat.
"Male Jenny..." Lance wondered, looking over who the Rocket was referring to. He saw one man, in his forties Lance guessed, with blue hair that looked surprisingly like an Officer Jenny, which made him do a bit of a double take.
"Looks like the little internal squabbles in Team Rocket are coming to a head," Charlie said what Lance was thinking. "I don't want to be guessing at things, but we aren't looking at one big organized operation here. This is the work of one faction against another."
"How messy," Lance muttered, observing the standoff.
"Tribo, do not under any circumstances fight them!" The black-haired Executive shouted to the genetic Pokémon.
"Tribo?" Lance asked Charlie. "That's what they call the thing?"
"Seems to be," Charlie shrugged. "That thing is scary, beats even my Pokémon I'm guessing."
Lance didn't think that possible, and just looking at it, it didn't seem any more threatening than a Sneasel. He pondered what his next move should be. It was too risky to call out any Pokémon, but he might have to. Dragonite could take most of the Rockets if he got off a surprise attack, but if he failed, he didn't trust Dragonite's scales against a handgun.
"Tribo exceeds Mewtwo!" The brown-haired Elite shouted, snapping Lance out of his thoughts long enough for him to see something he never thought he'd see.
The blonde man standing nearest to the Elite started to say something.
And then he was shot.
-----------------------------------------------------
That's it for this week, folks. Next chapter goes up when it goes up. Until then, remember that Officer Jenny is not meant for angering. I dunno, I just don't like writing Lance chapters, since it's really annoying to remember just how much of Team Rocket he knows about, and how much he doesn't. Charlie Evans the same, but at least he's not that common to see in place of the third person limited omniscience I use, since he's the centre of too much plot secrecy. Chapters 95 and on should get back to less of the "filler chapters showing different viewpoints" and more of the "plot chapters that get to the point." But next week I'm on vacation, so after that is when I get cracking, I suppose.
G'night everyone, I guess.
-----------------------------------------------------
Lance paced back and forth, back and forth across the floor of the Nightshade police headquarters. Several Officer Jennies were around, and a few other policemen, but the place was just in a complete panic all the same. He watched the few camera feeds that were left after most of the main ones were knocked out by an unknown source.
Unknown to the police, at least. Lance was sure it was the Rocket Elite.
"You still have a connection with Charlie Evans?" Lance asked an Officer Jenny, after stopping deciselvely.
"I think so," Jenny said, taking off an earphone and pressing a few buttons on the console of the monitoring station.
"Get him on," Lance said. He didn't like this. The Pokémon battle he was watching had just turned bad after a strange Pokémon started to basically demolish its opposition. He'd heard rumour that Team Rocket had been experimenting with genetics again, but if this was their result, he was going to have to do something fast to stop it.
"Sir," Jenny said a few moments later, handing Lance a receiver.
"What the hell is going on over there?" Lance asked Charlie, a tone of severe irritation in his voice.
"Well," Charlie's voice was a bit scrambled from what was presumably interference, but it was understandable. "It looks like one of the Rockets has a genetically altered Pokémon. The challengers for the Elite Eight put up a bit of a fight, but they couldn't even hurt it."
Sounds like any normal Pokémon against one of Charlie's, Lance thought bitterly to himself.
"Should I do anything?" Charlie asked.
Lance thought for a moment. On one hand, he could easily have Charlie intervene, and his skill would probably halt the Rockets in their tracks. But on the other hand, he had too many unknown quantities, and Charlie could despite his awe-inspiring skill be outmatched.
"Sir?" Chalie asked.
"Stay where you are," Lance said. "Do you have any idea what Rockets we're up against?"
"It looks like an Elite and an Executive, from their uniform styling," Charlie sounded unsure of himself. "I can't tell who the Executive is, but the Elite looks like the one we've been having some trouble with in the past. He's got himself a Hitmonchan, but it looks like just an average Pokémon. It's the Executive that's controlling the genetic Pokémon."
"Have you heard any names at all?" Lance asked.
"No, sir, I... wait, someone's coming," Charlie said, and the line went dead.
Lance hit his fist on the edge of the table. "Damn it."
"We could be there in twenty minutes," Officer Jenny offered. "If we scramble a full tactical unit, we could be there in under thirty."
"No," Lance said. "Just get me there. I'll handle this personally."
Officer Jenny nodded.
A gunshot hit the wall Charlie Evans was hiding behind with a rather loud clang. This wasn't good, the Rockets had caught him by surprise. He didn't even chance a look to see who it was who attacked him. Instead, he took a few calming, deep breaths.
Charlie glanced across the hall to see if there were and doorways or turns his way. Being unarmed, the Rockets were advancing on him right at that moment. He didn't have to look around the corner to see that. He didn't see anywhere to hide. This left one option open to him.
"Go, Alakazam," Charlie muttered to himself, wondering why trainers had a habit of announcing their Pokémon regardless of the situation. "Halt any bullets that come our way."
"Kazam," Alakazam nodded, its eyes beginning to glow a pale blue.
Charlie heard a loud bang, which made his ears ring. Guns were certainly a lot louder in real life than they were on TV. It was not a small gun, either.
"Ala! Alakazam!" Charlie heard his Pokémon cry out. Charlie dimly wondered what the problem was. He looked and saw a short, blonde, female Rocket in a black uniform standing with what looked to be a .45 or similar. He knew this one, but he couldn't remember her name.
"Ala!" Alakazam continued, sounding quite distressed. Charlie blinked some haze out from his eyes and just now realized his jacket was getting wet. Weird, he thought.
Slowly, almost lazily, Charlie fingered his left shoulder. He drew back his fingers and they were wet and slimy with blood.
"Oh, crap," Charlie said the only thing that he seemed able to say. "I've been shot."
Charlie didn't question why he felt no pain. He also didn't question why Alakazam's eyes glowed fiercely, or why Domino didn't seem to be doing anything at all.
Alakazam held its arms straight outwards, one pointed at each of Charlie and Domino, a furious glare to its eyes.
"Kazam..." it growled.
"Right, he has a Psychic-type," Domino grumbled, the .45 in her hand ripping itself apart in midair. She also floated about an inch off the ground, just enough to be unable to do much of anything.
"Let her live," Charlie said weakly, the blood flow from his shoulder lessening. "Not worth sinking to their level."
"Kazam? Ala?" Alakazam asked.
"Just do it," Charlie knew he'd trained his Alakazam to be efficient, even brutal at times, and that meant finishing off opponents whenever you had the chance. But this time, he couldn't justify dropping down to the level of Team Rocket, no matter how he felt.
"Ala," Alakazam waved its spoon lazily, and Domino floated out, kicking and screaming. It then turned to Charlie, placing a spoon over the wound in his shoulder.
"Thanks," Charlie groaned as Alakazam's Recover started to heal the wound. The bullet came back out and clattered to the ground. He breathed heavily, and the blood flow ceased.
"Kazam," Alakazam said, breathing heavily as well. Targetting a Recover move took more talent than most any normal Pokémon could muster. Even Charlie's Alakazam had a great deal of trouble with it.
"Close one," Charlie remarked, standing up unsteadily.
"Sir, we're getting the line back," Officer Jenny's voice came over the police car's radio as another Officer Jenny was driving Lance to the Nightshade Coliseum.
"Put him through, then," Lance said, picking up the receiver.
"It's bad," Charlie Evans' voice came through surprisingly clearly.
"How bad?" Asked Lance.
"I've already run into one Rocket Elite, who actually managed to shoot me," Charlie sounded like his pride was wounded. "I managed to get rid of her, and don't worry about me, I'm fine. But there are definitely more Rockets here than we anticipated."
"About how many?" Lance asked.
"I caught sight of another group," Charlie said, "This one larger than the Elite group so far."
"Wait there," Lance ordered. "Only engage if they start the encounter. And by that, I mean without you luring them."
"Give me more credit than that," Charlie's voice was sardonic.
Lance covered the radio receiver with his other hand just long enough to ask, "Jenny how long?"
Officer Jenny, not in the least bit amused, shot Lance a glare as she drove already much more recklessly than it was apparent she wanted to be. Lance could tell that she wasn't at all amused, and Jenny held up her left hand, all four fingers and thumb extended.
Five minutes, then, Lance interpreted. He picked up the receiver again.
"I'll be there in just a few moments," Lance said. He looked out the window. He could see the coliseum now, growing larger in the windshield. The dull blare of the police siren was in the back of his mind. Really, he didn't even hear it unless he actively listened for it. The whole situation was dreamlike. He couldn't believe this was happening, and certainly couldn't believe he was about to try and go toe to toe with the upper echelons of Team Rocket directly.
Even if that fake Executive Kenneth didn't pan out, he still wasn't amused at having to fight this battle.
"Get here quickly," Charlie's voice was worried. "Some other Rockets just came and are talking to the Elite and Executive."
"Can you hear what they're saying?" Lance asked, his interest piqued.
"Not from here," Charlie said. "The newcomers just sent out two Pokémon. A Typhlosion and a Rapidash. The Rapidash has grey fire... and it's actually pretty shiny."
"Huh, now that's rare," Lance commented.
"We're here," Officer Jenny said curtly as she swung the police car around, passenger side door facing the coliseum entrance. "Now get moving."
Lance wordlessly exited the police car as he dashed to the coliseum entrance. The plate glass doors were locked for some reason, so he backed up and, without thinking, kicked through one. The glass itself wasn't very thick or strong, so his boot went through it on the second kick. His toes hurt, but that was the least of his problems. He attracted a few stares from the crowd around the coliseum, but he paid them no heed.
The lighting inside the coliseum entrance, like all the lighting in the city, was too bright, and Lance's eyes took a few moments to adjust to it. He sprinted pretty much at a full run through the now deserted hallways. It wasn't too hard to figure out how to get to the one place he wanted to get to: the actual fighting arena.
Almost out of breath, he got to one of the staircases leading up to the second level, the first level of the stands. He shook his head to himself in derision, and climbed them. His legs were burning, but he ignored it. He was in better physical condition than to just let a little bit of muscle pain stop him.
The doors leading out to the stands weren't too far from the staircase, and Lance just pushed them open and headed out. He grumbled to himself something about the god of death, a goat, and edible underwear, before he leapt at the railing blocking people from falling down into the arena proper, and jumping it.
Lance landed with a whump a ways away from the Rocket gathering. He looked around and saw that the doorway for the competitors wasn't too far off, and shuffled quietly over to it.
Charlie Evans was there, and nodded to Lance as he slunk in.
"I don't think the new group is at all friends with the first one," Charlie said, pointing at the black-uniformed Rocket Elite who was holding a gun at the other Rocket group, which consisted of three obvious Rockets, a green-haired man of about their age, the well-acclaimed Tschel Hakujin, and what looked to be a blonde girl he couldn't identify.
Lance looked over the standoff. He didn't like it.
"You would, you little birth defect of a 'male Jenny'" the brown-haired Rocket with the gun spat.
"Male Jenny..." Lance wondered, looking over who the Rocket was referring to. He saw one man, in his forties Lance guessed, with blue hair that looked surprisingly like an Officer Jenny, which made him do a bit of a double take.
"Looks like the little internal squabbles in Team Rocket are coming to a head," Charlie said what Lance was thinking. "I don't want to be guessing at things, but we aren't looking at one big organized operation here. This is the work of one faction against another."
"How messy," Lance muttered, observing the standoff.
"Tribo, do not under any circumstances fight them!" The black-haired Executive shouted to the genetic Pokémon.
"Tribo?" Lance asked Charlie. "That's what they call the thing?"
"Seems to be," Charlie shrugged. "That thing is scary, beats even my Pokémon I'm guessing."
Lance didn't think that possible, and just looking at it, it didn't seem any more threatening than a Sneasel. He pondered what his next move should be. It was too risky to call out any Pokémon, but he might have to. Dragonite could take most of the Rockets if he got off a surprise attack, but if he failed, he didn't trust Dragonite's scales against a handgun.
"Tribo exceeds Mewtwo!" The brown-haired Elite shouted, snapping Lance out of his thoughts long enough for him to see something he never thought he'd see.
The blonde man standing nearest to the Elite started to say something.
And then he was shot.
-----------------------------------------------------
That's it for this week, folks. Next chapter goes up when it goes up. Until then, remember that Officer Jenny is not meant for angering. I dunno, I just don't like writing Lance chapters, since it's really annoying to remember just how much of Team Rocket he knows about, and how much he doesn't. Charlie Evans the same, but at least he's not that common to see in place of the third person limited omniscience I use, since he's the centre of too much plot secrecy. Chapters 95 and on should get back to less of the "filler chapters showing different viewpoints" and more of the "plot chapters that get to the point." But next week I'm on vacation, so after that is when I get cracking, I suppose.
G'night everyone, I guess.
