Fuchsia City was not very large, not when measured by population; it was, in fact, the smallest city in the country to still bear the title. But in terms of area, it was far and away the largest.

  Part of that was the Safari Zone, the gigantic nature-preserve-slash-rare-Pokémon-factory occupying its north… but if Hoshi had to point to a second reason, it would be the culture. Fuchsians built their houses large and flat, with airy rooms and no basements or second floors. Then there were the spaces between houses, the exceedingly wide roads, the stands of controlled wilderness and artfully arranged stones…

  It was picturesque.

  And Hoshi hated it.

  The thought drew a chuckle from low in his chest, and the sound drew Casca’s attention as she nestled into his side. “Something funny?”

  The sound petered out, but the warmth that had caused it lingered. “I was really looking forward to exploring Fuchsia. Just walk around, get back to my roots, maybe talk to a few relatives…”

  She nodded to show she was listening. At some point while he’d been away, his girlfriend had touched up her makeup; her lips were freshly painted, and the stress of the past days concealed beneath a light dusting of powder. It was an almost startling change, given that the rest of them hadn't done much more than wash their faces, and Hoshi caught himself staring.

  “…Anyway, I had some stuff planned out. But now that I’m here, I’m thinking that I’d have been sick of the place before the first hour was through. It’s just houses and nature.”

  The way he said it drew a laugh from the woman, short and sweet the same as his, and when she looked back at him Casca quirked a brow. “Your mood’s flipped again. What happened in there? You find religion, stud?”

  Hoshi’s eyes drifted from his girlfriend’s face to take in the rest of the semi trailer. He didn’t know where the instructors could have possibly found the thing, but it was large – and fit for human habitation. A pair of bunk beds were bolted to the floor near the front, and there was a shower head coming down from a tank attached to the ceiling of the other corner, paired with a grate on the floor. A couch and narrow table rounded out the area, and there was a skylight and pair of small, porthole-style windows to let the sun in. Seems like somebody was living in this thing. Or maybe not? It’s got some stuff, but there isn’t a toilet or stove or anything, so…

  He shook the thought away. “No, nothing like that. Just… dealing with it, I think.” Wherever it had come from or whatever it’d been used for, the trailer made an exceptionally passable means of transporting the Rockets and their Pokémon. Not exactly five star treatment, and it wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as what Kenny and the executives would be experiencing up front in the actual cab, but the tiny room was definitely better than driving to Vermilion in a standard trailer. “A little bit at a time. I’m not… good, just better.”

  “I know. But better is pretty good, right?”

  “Hah,” Hoshi chuckled again before falling silent. Pretty good… I wouldn’t word it like that, but you aren’t wrong. The mood inside the trailer was strange, not quite subdued but something close, an emotion that the senior grunt had no name for. Ryan was sitting with the rookie trio playing cards, while Bart was napping – or at least trying to nap – in the top bunk while Mimi combed her vulpix in the bottom one.

  The final two Rockets also had a Pokémon out. Puce was feeding her new munchlax bits of canned bread, while Cliff had released his pinsir and a cubone. The bipedal ground type was young, obviously not yet at the same level as the rest of the enforcer’s team, but its stance had a certain surety to it as it sat beside the giant beetle, the two performing some sort of meditation exercise.

  As for the man himself, Cliff had dug around in their supplies and come up with a camp stove. He was cooking something on it, though exactly what Hoshi didn’t feel like standing up to check.

  No, he felt fine there on the couch with Casca. Although…

  The countryside passed by through the thick glass of the far window as he pondered. I slept through the chance to check my new members out. The sting of regret bit at him, but failed to stick; he’d needed that nap. Could I get it done in here? There’s not much else to do, and the other two shouldn’t be too ornery.

  At least, that was what he’d like to say, but unfortunately he’d chosen a fully-grown bear. The magneton would probably be fine – the ‘mon had few natural predators, one of the reasons it was such an Arc-damned pest, so it should be docile enough – but letting out an ursaring inside an enclosed space was probably not a great idea. If her temper’s the same as the gible’s, that would be a problem.

  Not too big of a problem, and not necessarily likely – most of the Pokémon the others had gotten were tame enough – but still something to consider. No, no bear inside the tractor trailer… Heh, that kind of sounds like a stupid low-budget movie. But maybe the little guy would be fine?

  Hoshi turned it over in his head for another minute as the last signs of civilisation disappeared from view. Goodbye, Fuchsia City. You were absolutely horrible, though that’s probably on us rather than you. The hints of water appearing outside made it clear: they were now officially on Route 18. The guardhouse’ll be coming up pretty soon. Wonder how the instructors are gonna get us through…

  A bit more lazy thought, and at last he concluded that he should probably be doing something productive, instead of just cuddling with his girlfriend. Hoshi grunted, sitting up. “Hey Cliff.”

  The ruddy-skinned Rocket looked up. It felt kind of weird to see him wearing the normal everyday jeans and t-shirt that had been the only things in his size among what they’d procured; the man looked a lot more natural in heavier clothes. “Yeah?” he asked, whatever it was he was cooking sizzling on the edge of audibility.

  Hoshi sat up even straighter as Casca retreated from where she’d been almost laying on top of him. “I didn’t get the chance to properly vet my team before…” He trailed off, but the enforcer sent him a nod; Cliff understood. “Yeah. So, think we can do it in here? This thing’s big enough for a gible, right?”

  Cliff’s brows raised. “A gible? Huh, that’s pretty impressive – though I hope you picked up at least one fully evolved ‘mon to go with it.”

  “A magneton and an ursaring. So?”

  The man turned back to the tiny gas-powered stove, obviously thinking. Actually, should he have that on in here? Sort of an enclosed space…

  Whatever, there was a big hole in the floor; they shouldn’t choke or anything. Hoshi waited for his nominal superior’s response in steady patience for a few seconds, before the emotion suddenly ran dry. “By the way,” he said as he stood, slightly wobbly from the small movements of the moving vehicle. “What’re you cooking there?”

  He received the answer both visually and verbally as he stepped closer. “Pancakes,” Cliff said, a sharp motion flipping the rapidly-browning pastry in its pan.

  “Oh, huh.” Suddenly, Hoshi was very aware that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. “Think you could send a few of those my way? I’m starving.”

  To his surprise, Cliff shook his head. “This isn’t human food, it’s Pokéchow. Go grab something canned if you’re hungry.” He gestured with his chin to the sack of provisions on the table, and in doing so caught Hoshi’s questioning look. “No, really. This’s mostly wood pulp, for Pinch.”

  “You’re making… sawdust pancakes?”

  Cliff smiled. “What’d you think pinsir ate?” Uh… I mean I guess I knew they were herbivores, but seriously? Wood pancakes? The expression widened as he once again read Hoshi’s face. “Not joking even a little. Pancakes with syrup are actually a pretty good substitute for spending half a day sucking on tree sap.” He turned back to the stove, flipping the cake out of the pan and onto a small stack of the things on a paper plate. He didn’t have a spatula or other utensils; on any other day, Hoshi would’ve found the skill as least slightly impressive. “Not to mention faster. And you should probably think of feeding your Pokémon, too; they’re healed up, but that won’t do a thing for hunger.”

  Hoshi accepted the reminder for what it was. “Yeah. After I convince my baby dragon not to eat me – which you still haven’t said yes or no to, by the way.”

  “Eh,” the enforcer grunted with a shrug. “Might as well. We’ve got a long drive ahead… Pinch, Smash, come on over here. I’ve got treats ‘n a job.”

  To Hoshi’s mild surprise, nobody objected to releasing a near-wild Pokémon inside the trailer. On the contrary, it seemed that the Rockets were just excited to have something to do. “A grand idea!” Ryan exclaimed as he threw down his cards. “One can only play poker for so long. Are Kichi and Puce also participating? They didn’t get much time with their new captures either.”

  “Maybe,” Hoshi waffled. I think an agitated vileplume would be even worse than a bear, in this situation. But it was impossible to give a straight no to the man’s gleaming yellow eyes. Arc, he looks like he’s bored out of his skull – and yet we’ve only been in here for like a half-hour.

  Ugh, the trip north is gonna suck with all these restless people in such a small space…

  But that restlessness was convenient for him, so Hoshi threw his own reservations to the wind as he turned away and released his three Pokémon – or rather, his first three Pokémon. Feels weird to suddenly have a full team. Haven’t even seen the last two yet, except as pictures on a screen. Hopefully that weirdness would disappear once he got through a battle or two – after all, he’d bonded to Guts and Crow easily enough, and Venus had taken only slightly longer.

  “Hey girls,” he said as they examined the strange new surroundings. “Ready to meet some new friends? Or re-meet one, in Crow’s case.” The golbat trilled out a series of squeaks at her name, curious, then hissed as he held up the gible’s Indigo Ball. “Not a fan, huh?” Hah, I wouldn’t be either if the little guy had bitten my tongue, but you’ll have to bear with it. “Too bad; this is your little brother. You can give him a smack if he misbehaves, but that’s it – understand?”

  Ryan’s eye-roll was exaggerated enough to be felt from behind Hoshi’s back. “Please, Mutsu, these aren’t children. Don’t embarrass me in front of the new hires.”

  With a snort, the senior grunt expanded the Indigo Ball to its proper size. “I don’t think they count as new hires after last night; they probably have more battle experience than half the grunts we’ve met. Speaking of – you three, you want in on this?”

  Tor, Lily, and Mojo traded glances. “Sure,” Mojo eventually said while the other two shook their heads. “You want a persian or a bigass turtle?”

  A few minutes of rustling up some supplies, as well as a little Pokémon – and trainer – wrangling, and a sparse circle came together. Given the size of the ‘arena’ they’d needed to keep it to smaller ‘mons; Cliff’s pinsir and Ryan’s farfetch’d – whose name Hoshi wasn’t even going to attempt to pronounce, even in the sanctity of his head – joined the senior grunt’s trio along with Mimi’s vulpix, Mojo’s growlithe, Bart’s electabuzz, and of course Candy the staryu, producing a short but sturdy wall of bodies protecting the fragile humans. Bear the slowpoke was on standby. And she’ll probably stay there, even if something happens.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The non-joke calmed him a bit, and Hoshi took a breath. “Okay, releasing in two, one…”

  He threw, and the bright hollow sound the tool made made as it bounced echoed off the metal walls. The brilliant purple Pokéball opened and disgorged a torrent of red light before hitting the ground again, rebounding at an impossible angle to find Hoshi’s palm. “Gible,” he ordered as the dragon took form. “Heel; stay still.”

  The round little monster appeared to obey for a moment, twitching its head only slightly to take in the surrounding Pokémon – but even the numbers arrayed against it couldn’t overcome the dragon’s instincts. It lunged forward, maw open a perfect one-hundred-eighty degrees, and its trainer resisted the urge to wince. Bad target, kid.

  Venus didn’t need to dive in to block the attack the way Crow had back in the Gym; she was the target, and so the only effort the primeape needed to expend was to chop her glove-like hand down. The gible was struck across the snout and reversed direction, bouncing once before landing on its stubby legs.

  Unlike its ball, the dragon’s impact was low and resonating, and it didn’t seem ready to lunge again. The gible stood for a moment, exuding confusion as it rubbed its nose. “Heel,” Hoshi ordered again. “No biting.”

  His Pokémon ignored the order, turning in place as it more closely inspected its encirclement. It took a step towards the growlithe, but a threatening growl made it reconsider. Then it bared its teeth at the electabuzz, who rotated her arms to produce a brief snap of lightning that arced between her antenna. The gible looked at Guts, who bristled her fur and bared her teeth.

  Hesitation – and then, only a fraction of a second later, outrage. With a squawk the gible took a large breath, and Hoshi would have found the sound cute if it’s exhale hadn’t been accompanied by fuck that’s Dragon Rage. The baby version of Dragon Breath produced no flames, only a shockwave of bright blue energy aimed at his raticate, but it still caused his fingers to twitch towards Guts’s ball – but Hoshi resisted the cowardly impulse.

  It’s not like last night. It isn’t. This level of attack won’t cause permanent damage… Trust your Pokémon. “Guts, Focus Energy.” She glowed as the shockwave hit, the draconic energy singing her fur. The attack had struck full-on, and the last dregs of it rippled out his raticate’s back to hit Hoshi’s legs – and despite the ‘donated’ denim he was wearing not taking any visible damage, sharp stings of pain bloomed from the Rocket’s shins up to his kneecaps. Ignore it. “Quick Attack.”

  Guts’s retaliation was nearly invisible; she darted out, spun, and smacked the land shark across the mouth with her back legs – approaching, striking, and retreating in a single motion. Hoshi blinked. Did she get faster?

  He wouldn’t have assumed the bulkier, shorter-limbed form of raticate would help his girl’s agility, but it seemed reality had no intentions of fulfilling his expectations. “Crow, Supersonic. Gible…” Hoshi put every ounce of authority he had into his voice. “Heel. Stop fighting, you suicidal reptile.”

  Another beat of hesitation – but then for a third time, the dragon disobeyed. Even as it reeled from both the Quick Attack and Crow’s keening, its eyes flashed with defiance. Arc damn it. The gible leapt again, jaws snapping, and was sent back by a Thunder Punch from the electabuzz. The striped monster shook out its hand, blood flowing from cut knuckles, and Bart snapped his fingers.

  “Mutsu, you’d do well to control your beast. Next time, Madder won’t hold back.”

  Yeah, working on it – also, go fuck yourself. “Venus, get in there. Low Kick!”

  The dragon lunged a third time, and was repelled by the growlithe enveloping its body in flames. Again, only to take a round of kicks from its big sister. Again, its movements slowing as damage accumulated, and Pinch the pinsir gave the baby chewing on its hard carapace a disdainful look before flicking it away.

  The gible rose, gnashing its teeth – and then stumbled. Another Dragon Rage crashed against Crow, who let out an ungodly sound that made every living thing in the trailer cringe back.

  New move, Hoshi’s forebrain thought as the rest of him grit his teeth. From evolving? I should check everyone’s movesets after this. “Gible, don’t be stupid. This isn’t a fight you can win.” The dragon stilled…

  And then shot a third Dragon Rage over the heads of the short defenders, aimed directly at its trainer’s face. Hoshi raised his arms as the shockwave engulfed him, his girls screeching in anger. Pain, cold and with a strange ephemerality to it like nothing he’d ever experienced before, struck his rationality like a sledgehammer. “Fuck! You little shit!”

  “Hoshi! Candy, Water Gun!”

  As the staryu followed its order, Hoshi clenched his fists. The sleeves of his shirt coloured with tiny spots of blood at it bled through from the damaged skin beneath. That’s it, I’m fucking mad now. “Girls, put it on the ground for me.”

  His girls rushed forward. A brief melee ensued, during which the gible fought both valiantly and stupidly, and Hoshi’s head rang like a misshapen bell. Fuck. If I came out of last night with just a flesh wound only to get a concussion training my own fucking Pokémon, I’m gonna be pissed. Within seconds the dragon type was on the ground, head shoved down as Venus sat atop its back, the blunt end of the gible’s crest digging into her fur.

  “Good job. You’re an ornery little bastard, aren’t you?” A muffled sound of hurt pride. “Stupid, too. I get it, I really do – you wanna fight. You wanna attack, hit before they can hit you, just solve it with your teeth and claws. Simple, straightforward.” Hoshi took a step forward – but was stopped by a soft touch to his arm.

  He turned to his girlfriend, who was wearing a serious expression. “Maybe don’t?” she asked.

  “C’mon, you did the exact same thing with Quake. In fact, that was arguably more dangerous.”

  Casca smiled, just slightly. “I’m also an outrageous hypocrite. If you get bit, I’m gonna make fun of you forever, got it?”

  Hah. C’mon sunshine, you’re completely ruining the mood. Hoshi nodded silently, then turned back to his new dragon. He stepped forward, and the gible’s growls rose in volume.

  “Like I said, you want it to be a simple fight. And why not? You’re strong. You’ve probably never lost a fight before – heck, if you’d focused your attacks you might’ve taken out one or two of my other Pokémon before getting knocked out.” Hoshi crouched, and looked the monster in the eye. While it could be compared to a shark or lizard with its fin-crest and sharp scales, the eyes were a lot more mammalian; round pupils and irises surrounded by white sclera. A potentially-bullshit fact sprang to the front of his mind: only social animals had that strong contrast, to easily communicate to each other where they were looking.

  “I’ve been thinking a little bit. Why were you in that box? Why has such a strong Pokémon gotten zero badges? I think I can guess.” Hoshi leaned in. “The trainer who caught you, they’re the exact kind of dumbass that the League made all their bullshit restrictions to protect. A fucking cautionary tale. Went out, caught a strong Pokémon, and then… just let it out. No safeguards, no knowledge of what they were doing – you killed them, didn’t you?”

  The dragon snarled. Even now, roughed up and pinned down, surrounded, it wasn’t afraid; it was angry. Affronted at the gall of the surrounding Pokémon for daring to challenge it. Arcus. We might actually need to put this guy down…

  “Yeah. You’re a goldeen who’s lived surrounded by magikarp; you’ve never had to be afraid of anything except other gible.” From the pocket of his jeans, Hoshi drew out a small packet, already opened – jerky. “But the world isn’t simple. Strong people die all the Arc-damned time. All the time.”

  A strip of dehydrated meat hit the floor in front of the gible’s nose, and it ceased struggling for a moment. Its eyes went down, then back up to the human kneeling over it. “All the time, there’re scyther out there in the forest getting mobbed by beedrill. I remember once a gyarados corpse washed up on shore – killed by seaking, they said. And there’re some Elite Trainers over in Viridian, getting ready for a tournament that won’t happen – they’ve got our name on them.” Unless this is all some horrible mistake, and a legion of Jenny are waiting to appear the moment we step out of this truck. “It’s the same thing with you and us; you might be stronger, but we’ve got numbers. And,” Hoshi emphasised, “We aren’t that much weaker. So… you gonna submit? Fill your belly? Or do you need a real beatdown?”

  He held his breath after the question, and for a long, tense second the dragon was still.

  Then an eruption of blinding sand burst out from its scaled hide, and it used the surprise to buck Venus off its back.

  “Gah!” “Sandstorm!” “Damnit – Mutsu!”

  But Hoshi only squinted. Stupid little fuck. “The hard way, then.” He wasn’t afraid either – because he’d watched the gible make lunge after fruitless lunge, exactly the same way every time. It’s strong, but it’s still a damn baby. “Everybody stay still!”

  So when its grey-blue form burst from the obscuring sand, it wasn’t even close to a surprise. Hoshi already had his hand up; like Venus before, all he had to do was swipe down and catch the dragon by the crest, slamming it to the floor. “Stop it.”

  It tried to rise, but a brilliantly shining star smacked it in the side. Hoshi picked it up and slammed it again, uncaring as its tooth-like scales abrated the skin from his palm and fingers. “You stupid fuck. Do you want to die?” The dragon cried, a sharp bark of annoyance more than pain, and stomped. A not-quite-Earthquake briefly rattled the frame of the trailer, stopped by a ghostly bolt of flame that struck it in the eye.

  That caused a much louder cry, then another as a second Swift from Guts bowled it over. Hoshi lunged forward and shoved it down again with his foot – and while the hiking boot lacked the steel layer of his work pair, its thick rubber sole was enough to protect him as the gible thrashed. “You’re alone. What do you think’ll happen if you actually bite me? You’ll just die, you dumb lizard.” It tried for another Dragon Rage, and so Hoshi pulled his foot away and kicked, causing a horrible screech as the dragon’s scales scratched the metal floor. “Just fucking stop. Heel.”

  The gible rose – and took another Swift, this time from Madder. The electabuzz’s trainer raised his brow from behind his Pokémon, somehow managing to keep up his bored facade while the Sandstorm buffeted his ridiculous hair. “Admirable fighting spirit,” Bart said, his cultured voice raised and his lips curved in a boyish pout. “Some would say too much.”

  Again, the dragon attempted to stand – and finally it failed. The gible slumped down with a petulant sound, almost hugging the ground as it whined. All at once, the Sandstorm disappeared – really disappeared; the sand was simply gone.

  Fucking finally, Hoshi thought, before deciding to express it aloud. “Fucking finally, you absolute shitheel.” His fellow Rockets expressed much the same sentiment as they blinked their reddened eyes. “Are you done? If you are, then stand up. Here, take some jerky.” A second passed. “For fuck’s sake, stop crying.”

  Hoshi tossed another piece of meat, and the dragon’s blubbers quieted as it snapped it up. Another, and they were reduced to a barely-audible growl. Another-

  Hoshi almost jumped out of his skin as some kind of hidden door banged open from the front of the room, and he was suddenly aware of both the shredded skin of his right hand, and the more nebulous pain set all along the curve of his skull. From crown to jaw, it felt like the bone had been broken apart and pieced back together just slightly wrong, sharp edges poking awkwardly.

  “What’s all this racket back here?” James’s stuck-through-the-wall head asked, his vibrant blue hair partially hidden by the baseball cap of a delivery driver uniform – which was coincidentally the exact same shade. “Are you battling back there?”

  It was Cliff who responded. “Dragon taming, sir.”

  James blinked, and then his eyes found the gible lying on the floor. The ground type dragon looked up forlornly, still chewing the latest bit of meat, and croaked.

  “I see. Well, you should finish up quickly.” The executive reached down and grasped the bottom of the hidden panel – the part that had made the sound when it had fallen inwards and downwards. Wait, there’s a pretty big gap between the cab and the trailer… Is Jessie holding onto his feet or something while he just dangles? “The guard station is coming up in a minute, and we aren’t stopping. We’re likely to pick up a Route Ranger or two.” He flashed a smile. “So if you see them coming up on us, get to the roof. It’ll be a good test of your new Pokémon!”

  His piece said, James’s head retreated into the small hole, and it was shortly followed by the one arm he’d snaked in. The panel closed silently, without any visible seams, and there was a moment of silence.

  Then Ryan clapped. “Magnificent work with the gible, Mutsu! I was worried you’d botch it, but it seems Jormungandr will have a playmate after all! Now, let’s get our Pokémon healed up, before-”

  With a mighty crash, the truck ploughed through the entrance to the sturdy building through the one weak point in its defences: the front door. Hoshi lost his footing and half-tumbled, as did several other Rockets and the unsteady Crow. His eyes flashed to a porthole, but all it showed was a haze of dust and flashes of fluorescent light before a second jolt rocked the vehicle.

  Damn it-

  He didn’t fall a second time, but it was close. Damn it, I wanted to make a big deal out of this, give it a bit of fucking ceremony, but whatever. “Gible!” Hoshi cried over the din, and the baby dragon responded with a soft croaking sound. It wasn’t panicking at all. “I’m going to turn you into the fucking best, so you get a name to match!” The Indigo Ball sparkled as debris cleared off the sunroof, letting daylight through once more. “This is a name with some history, so respect it! Return, Champion!”