Throughout the Cradle's history, settlements always had a propensity to extend their rule beyond their boundaries. On sleepier islands, minor hamlets ruled over the fringes which provided room for fields and more spacious abodes, serving as defenders and places of meeting and trade for those lands. Similarly, it was perhaps most apt to consider the cities of the Cradle the towns of towns, the abodes whose pulses affected the livelihoods of a web of smaller vassals.
It was a state that the Pokémon of the cities were all too aware of. With their vast numbers and monuments accumulated over the ages by seekers of wealth, fame, and power; the tendency of their kind was to seek out smaller counterparts to subordinate. Such constructs had gone through many names under the sun, though what they were was unmistakable- an empire- where the whims of the greatest of cities shaped the course of their subjects for better or worse.
In spite of its protestations of abolishing Anyilla's monarchy, the Company's territory too fit the mold of empire with its crown jewel in Canalhouse City. In past ages, the burg was a shipyard town characterized by its spindly, gaily-colored gabled buildings, which lined a constellation of islets nestled in a lagoon. The normal lanes and roads of towns largely replaced by canals filled by the sea itself that gave the settlement its pulse.
Since the fall of Conntow, the Company spared no expense in resource nor settlement orders to try and make Canalhouse into a proper successor to Middleguard City. More islands were dredged to expand the city proper and suburb towns to service them sprang up on the shores like weeds. On the islets of Canalhouse, the gable-roofed buildings grew ever taller and ever more numerous as more great monuments joined them.
Other changes to the city reflected the troubled times that followed the end of Conntow. A series of coastal ramparts had been constructed after the swath of destruction left behind by the raid of Beatrice the Swift. Perhaps it was due to the tougher defenses, the wrathful response to the raid, or just plain fortune, but the Garchomp's armada from Orleigh mercifully had never again been matched again in size or strength in all of Anyilla. In more recent years, a new military harbor had been dredged along the central canal, constantly packed with lavender-sailed ships and their crews.
Swish… Swish…
Including a Samurott in a fresh third-rank scarf who stood at the bridge of a galleon currently in port, idly spinning one of his seamitars about his knuckles. The Formidable Pokémon waited patiently as his crew set about loading his craft with provisions, and went down through the pre-departure checklist that had become rote to them. Just then, the Samurott's patience was rewarded, as the water bubbled and gave way to the lumbering form of a stern-eyed Gyarados. The sea serpent snaked over, and craned his head down in order to speak to the waiting captain.
"Good morning. You're the new Commissioner, I presume," the Gyarados said. "Lyn, was it?"
"That's correct, Administrator," the Samurott answered, nodding.
"Are your ship's preparations all in order?"
"My crew just wrapped up the last arrangements, Administrator Zorn," Lyn replied. "We should be able to push off at a moment's notice."
"Let's get moving, then."
Satisfied, Zorn pulled himself away from the ship and lowered himself slightly into the canal's water. Lyn lingered a moment, allowing the Gyarados to lead the way seaward, before turning to his crew and barking out orders to raise the anchor so that his
Argent Aviso could follow after the aquatic Administrator.
The moorings were undone and as the sails and anchor found their proper places, the galleon lurched away from the docks. The ship carried on along the channel the military harbor was built along, entering the central canal of the city. The Samurott Commissioner and guiding Gyarados Administrator carried forward, passing the stone multistoried buildings lining the channel, along with the swarm of small boats and swimming Pokémon that plied Canalhouse's waterways. The pair and their craft followed the canal past the raucous
Strandmeer Arena, the water-straddling temple complex erected in honor of the city's Protector, and the central square overlooked by the Company's local offices before reaching the open lagoon. As Canalhouse and its gabled roofs faded out behind them, Zorn sidled up against the Argent Aviso's starboard, prompting Lyn to approach and air a question that had been troubling him since they left harbor.
"Administrator Zorn, if I may, but is there something that I don't know about this mission?" the Samurott prodded. "At my briefing I was told that this would be a cut-and-dry matter of capturing some pirates."
"There were a few details that were withheld in your briefing that the Board felt were on a need-to-know basis," the sea serpent answered.
Lyn frowned as a mixture of confusion and suspicion etched itself across his face. Just what was so special about this request?
"How so? Aren't the pirates I'm chasing the same ones who raided the Merchantry warehouses in
De Kust just two nights ago?" the otter demanded. "That seems like a fairly mundane mission to me."
"The Merchantry stored something of importance to the Company in those district warehouses," Zorn explained. "When we did a damage assessment, we found that some documentation the Merchantry was slated to turn over to us was missing."
"This is the Taloons' Chronicle that I've heard of, right?" Lyn asked. "Why don't you just demand that the Merchantry send you a copy?"
"Because the documentation in question was a
source document that the Board deemed strategically important," the Gyarados said, giving a shake of his bulky head. "We have reason to believe that the Merchantry couldn't have given us a full copy of it even if it wanted to."
"Ah, I see," the otter murmured. "I take it that's why you're coming along, Administrator?"
"Yes, I am. It's important we retrieve this register," Zorn grunted. "Besides, I have a report to pass after we're done."
Lyn cocked an eyebrow at the Administrator dubiously. Perhaps it was to be expected from such a high-ranking member of the Company, but he sure did have a lot of secrets to keep.
"What do you mean, a report?"
"Don't worry about it, Commissioner," Zorn rebutted. "Just focus on doing your job."
Lyn frowned before deciding to shrug the matter off, reasoning that it wouldn't be needed in a mission that was mostly there to prove himself to the Board anyways. As the Argent Aviso approached the rampart-laden barrier islands at the mouth of Vollezee's lagoon, Lyn looked back one last time towards Canalhouse, its stony buildings now hazy and indistinct from each other, only to be interrupted by the sound of a Gyarados clearing his throat.
"Anyhow, since we're about to hit the open sea," Zorn prodded. "Have you find any leads so far?"
"Actually, I think that I have…"
Meanwhile, on Kenobi Island, Mossaisle Town's mass of colorful hillside buildings slowly roused itself into a morning buzz. Shops opened, Pokémon came in with crops from the field, and rescue teams gathered at the local guild. As the rhythms of Mossaisle's normal life began to pick up in activity, so too did the gaudy and seedy alleys of Andaku.
The crews of visiting ne'er-do-wells came out to tend to their ships, some staggering along less soberly than others. The local merchants daring enough to do business with their shady clientele began to spread their wares, taking care to keep a sharp eye for any strange behavior from would-be customers. It was in this collective rousing that a group of three Pokémon in white scarves carried along. An Illumise leading the charge, a skeptical-looking Unfezant following behind, and a deathly pale Fraxure trailing at the rear.
Beatrix flitted along briskly, never turning her eyes to meet the sight of the various Pokémon casting glances at her from the shifty shops. If any of the usual gossip shifted to focus on her and her acquaintances, she made no attempt to engage the scruffy prattlers. Shortly behind followed Pladur and Pat, walking from shop to shop with some notable difficulty, though they too made a point of avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
"C-Captain Beatrix?" Pladur gulped. "Couldn't we have done this on the ship?"
"I tried, but they were adamant about meeting at a land site," the Illumise captain sighed. "Just don't draw any attention to yourself, and this deal should go down smoothly."
"B-But why did I have to come?!" the Fraxure cried. "I'm a cook, not a negotiator!"
"We need some strength, just in case," she insisted. "And once you've gotten a Dragon Dance going, you're one of the toughest Pokémon on the entire crew."
Beatrix’s words failed to ease Pladur's tense and nervous gait, which did not go unnoticed by his Unfezant teammate. The Flying-Type gave an uncomfortable rustle of his feathers before giving a begrudging sigh.
"Well, whatever happens, it better be a good job for it to be worth coming into
this pit..." Pat murmured.
The Unfezant gestured down an alley next to a low-slung shop smelling strongly of Lansat Syrup, where the three made their way down a winding, dingy maze of alleys before coming to a stone warehouse with a tile hipped roof.
"Looks like this is it…" Beatrix buzzed.
"A-are we sure?" Pladur stammered. "This really doesn't look inviting."
"This is the only building with a hipped roof I've seen so far in this district…" Pat muttered. "Which is what that Kecleon said to expect."
"
Tranquilo, Pladur," the Illumise reassured. "It's nothing that I haven't seen before during a run like-"
She caught herself as she saw movement coming from deeper within the warehouse, followed by the sight of vibrations rocking the roof of the structure. The three looked ahead apprehensively, as a rough-looking trio consisting of a Zangoose, a Flareon, and a Banette came out the door and into the alleyway.
"Bah, what sort of reward was that?" the Zangoose fumed. "We could have gotten more from those lizards if we'd tried to snatch 'em right there!"
"
Really, Scian?" the Flareon huffed. "I'm pretty sure that attempting to kidnap one of those Kecleon with that bodyguard of theirs watching would've been the
last mission any of us went on."
"Yeah, lighten up," the Banette added. "We still have an entire hull full of loot!"
The vibrations grew stronger and stronger, as a growling voice asserted itself over the three Pokémon, and a pair of glowing eyes high off the ground caught the attention of Beatrix, Pladur, and Pat. The three watched as the strong-jawed form of a Tyrantrum emerged, and felt their blood run cold.
"All of you, pipe down. I didn't take you three along so you could argue the entire time!" he snarled. "That said, I wonder why those lizards were so hung up over that little parcel…"
It was a sight that the Pokémon of Tromba knew all too well, from the days of Administrator Darzin's rule of the island. A hundred questions swirled through the minds of the petrified sailors, with one coming to the fore as the Dragon-Type stopped in front of the Tromban group.
Were
they also familiar to this Tyrantrum?
"What are
you looking at?" the tyrannosaur snarled, glaring down at a pallid and faltering Fraxure.
"E-eeep…"
"We were just moving along!" Pat squawked, ushering Pladur and Beatrix hurriedly along to the warehouse. The three quickly slipped into the darkened building, leaving the pirate crew's voices to fade into the distance.
"Captain, come on, let's get going!" the Banette exclaimed. The Ghost-Type's words fell on deaf ears as the Tyrantrum continued staring after the Pokémon disappearing into the warehouse, leaving the Zangoose named ‘Scian' to ask as the three sailors slipped out of sight.
"Eh? Why are you just standing there like that?"
"Their voices," the Dragon-Type murmured. "That accent of theirs sounded familiar to me..."
Evidently they weren't
that familiar, or at least not enough for the sawtoothed fiend to stop and investigate them. The three paused in the darkened warehouse, panting as their hearts pounded with racing beats.
"That was way too close," Pat murmured.
"Well, at least we made it-" Beatrix began, only for her reassurance to be cut off from a squeak by her Fraxure subordinate.
"Ah- Ah- Ungh…"
Pladur faltered, only barely keeping himself from falling over. He teetered back and forth on his feet, his eyes losing their focus, before a startled Unfezant rushed to his side to keep him upright.
"Pladur!"
Pat hastily threw out a wing underneath Pladur, feeling the weight of his Fraxure compatriot weighing it down limply. Beatrix rushed over and tugged at the Dragon-Type from his back, dragging him back up to his feet as the reptile's senses started to return and the Fraxure uneasily regained a quivering footing.
"Keep it together!"
"Wh-What- W-Why is Commander Tarquin here?!" the Dragon-Type squeaked. "I thought that we got rid of him!"
"I'd heard rumors that Tarquin turned his claws to piracy after the Company sacked him," Beatrix said, shaking her head. "I suppose those weren't just rumors."
"Yeah, but even so, something's not adding up here…" Pat murmured. "What was he doing at our rendezvous point?"
The three Pokémon mulled uneasily. Pirate or not, it
did seem strange that Commander Tarquin would just be loitering around their meeting place. And what business would the Merchantry have had for pirates to give them anything other than a price on their heads?
The trio's pontificating was broken by the sound of a creature in the darkness clearing its throat, which made the three sailors jolt upright with a start.
"Aherm, I'm not sure how promptness is understood back on Tromba, but are you coming?" a voice called from deeper within the warehouse. "We've all been waiting for you."
"Right, we'll be right over!" Beatrix said.
Beatrix led her subordinates on towards the light of a desk illuminated by candles up ahead. There, a gathering of four Kecleon had already formed. At the head of the desk, a violet Kecleon with green frills and a yellow-green counterpart with a zigzag of blue scales on his belly sat, tucking away some notes jotted on scrap paper. Beside them was a bookish-looking one fiddling with a red journal, along with a noticeably larger counterpart watching the proceedings with a keen eye, evidently their bodyguard.
"Eh?" Pladur asked. "Weren't you that Kecleon that told us about this job back in Vollezee?"
"Bruna, right?" Pat added. "What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like?" she scoffed. "I'm here to give you your work!"
"This ‘job' is a bit sensitive," the Shiny Kecleon explained. "Bruna here insisted on overseeing the proceedings in person, so I arranged for her and Calino to be present with us."
"Pah, you didn't have to arrange anything, Nitori," the bookish Kecleon, evidently ‘Calino' chortled. "With Bruna, everything is a hands-on matter, whether or not you know about it yet!"
The bookish Kecleon's teasing was swiftly met with a trio of glares from his now ruddy-scaled colleagues. Sensing his banter was unwelcome, Calino bit his tongue and hastily attempted to change the subject.
"Er… right," he said. "We should get down to business."
"Well, what exactly are we transporting here?" Beatrix asked. "It's not often that the
Merchantry has to reach out to common free-traders like us."
"We have a small parcel delivery to Giotto," Bruna explained. "Time sensitive."
The Kecleon reached under the table and pulled out a small paper parcel before sliding it across. Beatrix reached to pick up the package, only to realize that it was a ratty dust jacket. Underneath it was a bulky codex wider than the ropes used for the Siglo Swellow's rigging. The tome was bound in a red lacquerware cover, adorned with a golden swirl inside a diamond with four leaves, and what looked like a line of footprints.
"Eh?!" Pladur exclaimed. "This is just a book!"
"If you needed a book sent over to Giotto quickly, why not send it with a mail carrier?" Pat wondered.
"Because as of two nights ago, this book was officially stolen by a band of pirates from one of our storage facilities on Vollezee," Nitori said.
"You mean the ones we ran into on the way in?" Beatrix pried, giving a skeptical twitch of her antennae.
"That's correct," the chameleon replied.
"But why go through all this trouble to begin with?" Pat questioned. The Unfezant's question drew an uncomfortable pause from the group of Kecleon, as Bruna's extremities started to turn a flustered pink.
"We've had some… complications after one of our own received a high position with the Imperials earlier this month," Bruna explained. "The Company gave our outfit's branch in Vollezee a week's notice to surrender it over to them."
"Naturally, we have no intention of playing along if we don't have to," the Shiny Kecleon added. "But the Company has undoubtedly been tracking Tarquin and his gang ever since they sailed off in search of the Taloons' Chronicle."
"Our best hope of actually getting our book to Giotto would be to contact smugglers and place it aboard a ship that can defend it and still move reasonably quickly," Bruna said. "Which is where you come in."
Bruna's colors returned to their normal purple as she pulled out the tome and slid it across the table towards the three sailors.
"We need it in Tidemill City by the crack of dawn tomorrow," the creature continued. "We'll pay 200,000 Poké if it comes in, and not a single coin if it doesn't arrive in one piece."
"But what's inside that book that's making you turn to a crew like us?" Pladur asked.
"This," the bulky Kecleon answered.
The guard flipped the dusty book open on the table, showing page after page of yellowed paper filled with handdrawn illustrations and line after line of runes composed of footprint shapes. Beatrix, Pat, and Pladur stared at the pages and then at each other… did this book contain what their mission was supposed to be?
"Er… I can't read that," the Fraxure murmured.
"I wouldn't expect you to," Bruna scoffed. "It's a family heirloom written in Footprint Runes."
"Eh?" Pladur asked. "But then what does it say?"
"... That's something that you don't need to know for this job," the purple Kecleon said, before clamping the tome shut on the table. "So do we have a deal, or what?"
Beatrix fluttered over the desk and studied the lacquerware cover of the book closely. Even though the sun had just cracked over the horizon, a run to Giotto by dawn tomorrow would undoubtedly be a tight squeeze. She'd have to empty the hold as much as possible to reduce weight and lean on her ship's escorts for help… but, with the free-trading jobs her crew had taken in the past, it shouldn't be
that unprecedented for them.
"We'll take it," the Illumise buzzed. "Though... is there anything else we should be aware of?"
"Yes, Calino will be accompanying you for this mission," Bruna responded, pointing at her bookish counterpart. "In our line of business, it's important that we both trust
and verify our business partners."
"If any further information is needed for your mission, he will provide it to you," the blue-banded Kecleon added.
"Hrm, right! I'll be sure to keep them up to speed."
Calino headed around the table and joined up with Beatrix and her subordinates with a wave and a cheery pink flush of his scales. From there, the three members of the Siglo Swellow and their new ally set off from the table and towards the light peeking through the warehouse's doors. Along the way, Pladur and Pat sized up the Kecleon, wondering if it was just
them who needed to be brought up to speed.
"So… you travel on ships much?" Pat asked.
"Nope!" he cheerily replied. "The trip to Kenobi today was the first time I've been on one!"
The three sailors stopped in their tracks and looked back at the Kecleon blankly. How was a Pokémon who didn't know the first thing about working on a ship supposed to
help them?
"... Come on," Beatrix sighed. "We can give a primer once we're back aboard the ship."
The four continued off for the entrance of the warehouse, carrying on back out into Andaku's spoiled sea air. All the while, the sailors of the group were filled with a sense of trepidation…
Just what other surprises did this mission have in store for them?
Unbeknownst to the Pokémon inside the warehouse, their conversation wasn't as private as they had thought. Outside, the Tyrantrum they had bumped into earlier had been eavesdropping through a window covered with a damaged shutter, his subordinates close behind him. Now that the conversation inside was done, the Dragon-Type turned towards his underlings, a glowering expression having fallen his face.
"… I knew it."
"Eh?" the Zangoose behind him piped up. "What'd you hear in there?"
"That accent
was familiar," Tarquin growled. "Those ‘mons are Tromban."
"Wait, Tromba?" the Banette asked. "Wasn't that the island that you-?"
The Ghost-Type was answered by a low growl, which made the creature flinch and clamp his mouth shut. The Tyrantrum shook his head and gritted his teeth, the mention of the accursed border island stirring up unwelcome memories.
"I have some history with that island from my old job, yes. I don't need to be reminded, Cerny," he spat. "But more importantly, those Kecleon
were leaving us out of the loop on that book."
Tarquin caught himself and paused for a moment. After an inquisitive sniff at the air, his maw began to open into a toothy, devious grin that his Flareon lackey was quick to notice.
"Captain, what's with that look in your eyes?" the Fire-Type wondered. "What are you thinking of?"
"I'm thinking that we have a prime business opportunity here, Kai," the Tyrantrum answered "One that allows me to get a little revenge on the side."
"Oh, that's
easy!" Scian exclaimed. "We'll just ambush those 'mons as they make their way back to their ship-"
"No, too soon, and it'll tip off the other crews here," Tarquin interrupted. "Let's wait for them to hit the water and ambush them there."
His malevolent, toothy grin widened as his maw cracked open just so, light glinting off of his bared fangs.
"I'm not in a very charitable mood to those hicks," he sneered. "I say we take them for everything they've got!"
After setting off from Kenobi, the crew of the Siglo Swellow made a few attempts to try and fit Calino in with the crew. He didn't seem to get the hang of tending to the sails and rigging, and deck work similarly met premature ends thanks to his lack of sea legs.
Eventually, Calino made passing mention of having cooked for some friends in the past, which led to his assignment to accompany Pladur down in the space of the ship's steerage that served as the galley. There, the chameleon finally found his footing with the Fraxure, and soon enough the two were hard at work making a batch of poffins for the crew. Calino was set to work stirring batter, as his Dragon-Type partner monitored a tray of the pastries baking in a crude clay oven.
"How's that poffin batter coming along, Calino?" Pladur asked.
"Great!" the Kecleon answered. "If I'd known stirring would be easy enough to do with one claw, I'd have done started doing so earlier!"
Pladur whirled back at Calino's words, and saw that the Merchantry scribe had stirred the contents of his mixing bowl without holding it steady on the table. The Fraxure went wide-eyed and hastily cried out to his new teammate.
"Hey, hold on!" the Dragon-Type exclaimed. "Make sure to stabilize that bowl! We're on a ship!"
"Eh?!" Calino protested. "What are you going on abou-?"
A powerful wave sent the ship lurching, causing Calino to lose his footing. The chameleon stumbled back and in a frantic attempt to keep his balance, sent the contents of his mixing bowl flying. The batter sailed through the air, before splattering against Pladur's belly, coating the Dragon-Type in a layer of gooey, sugary glop.
"Er… oops?"
"At least we have time to make another batch…" Pladur sighed. Grimacing, he drew the flat side of a claw up his battered stomach, scraping some of the poffin goop off of his hide. After a moment's pause glancing at the batter dripping off his claw, he shrugged and popped it into his mouth for a taste. "Flavor's not bad for a first attempt, though. Just keep it
in the bowl next time."
"How did you learn to cook anyways?" the Kecleon asked. "When I saw you the first time, I'd have never pegged you as the type to be a chef."
Pladur looked up from clearing off the last of the poffin batter, before giving a sheepish smile back at the chameleon.
"Well, working with fire does tend to come naturally to a dragon," he answered. "And it gives my mate and children something to look forward to whenever I'm home."
"Oh?" the Kecleon pried. "How many?"
"One and the other was still an egg during my last shore leave," the Dragon-Type answered, trailing off. The Fraxure started to have a wistful look creep across his eyes, his thoughts clearly not with Calino or the rest of the galley around him.
"... Sometimes I wonder if I'm spending too much time away from them," he sighed. "I mean, Beatrix's pay helps to cover for their needs, but I wonder sometimes if I'm not around for them when I really need to be."
"I dunno, hatchlings are adventurous types," Calino reassured. "So even if you can't be around them constantly, I'd think that being able to take some adventure back to them is a decent consolation."
"Eh?" Pladur asked, giving a quizzical tilt of his head. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, they need role models for getting out eventually, right? I think that they could do worse than having someone to learn from by example!" Calino chortled, only to be interrupted by a startled Unfezant's squawk from above deck.
"Gwark! There's a Company ship on the horizon coming straight for us!"
Pladur's jaw went slack, his eyes widening in panic. He paced nervously in place, his heart and mind racing at the alarming news.
"C-Come on, we need to get you-"
"Let's see what's going on up there," the Kecleon said. The chameleon turned and bolted down the corridor for the stairs leading up to the deck, leaving Pladur behind spluttering.
"Eh?! H-Hey! Calino!" he protested. "Wait up!"
Pladur stumbled out of the galley, hurrying down the passage after his hasty new teammate. He slowed somewhat as he neared the top of the stairs to the deck, feeling short of breath from his hurried pace.
"It's a galleon," Beatrix's Hitmontop first mate said. "Judging from the Gyarados in the water up front, looks like it's more heavily armed than normal."
At that revelation, Calino flushed a deep brown color, seemingly stricken by panic. Wide-eyed, he turned on his heels and bolted back towards the stair leading to the belly of the ship. In more normal times, the Kecleon's hasty retreat might have earned a jeer from one of the more braggadocious sailors of the Siglo Swellow, but with the Company ship prowling towards them, it was difficult for any of the Pokémon to muster a show of bravado.
"Captain Beatrix," a Golduck gulped. "Wh-What do we do now?"
"We... I..." she stammered a moment, struggling to come up with a solution for the new problem which loomed over them from the horizon. Despite her best efforts, every plan she came up with seemed likely upon second thought to cause twice as many problems as it'd have solved. Heaving a dissatisfied sigh, she offered the best plan she could come up with given their limited firepower.
"… Push the ledger into one of the hidden compartments and tell the crew to prepare to be boarded," the Illumise muttered. "We'll have to hope that whoever captains that ship doesn't figure out how to open them."
"
Wait!"
A call came from below deck, accompanied by a crescendo of footsteps approaching the stairway. Bursting out onto the deck came Calino once more, this time holding a hardcover book bound in vivid red lacquer... the very ledger Beatrix had just ordered the crew to stow away!
"Huh?!" Philips exclaimed. "
Qué estás haciendo?!"
"Yeah! Captain Beatrix said we needed to
hide the journal!" Natrix cried. "Not give it to the Company on a silver platter!"
"I'm not giving the Company anything!" the Kecleon snapped. "I'm giving you a way out! There's some notes about secret sea routes around here in this thing!"
Calino set the tome on the deck of the ship, skimming through pages at a lightning-fast pace. Looking over his shoulder, Beatrix spied a blur of illustrations, visible only for a split second before the page was flipped to the next. Each page of illegible runes was fully illustrated - some displaying pictures of Pokemon, others detailing objects which must have been found in a dungeon, and others yet seeming nothing more than a simple landscape sketch.
"Come on, come on," Calino grumbled. "Their journeys took them here, so they had to have written
something..."
He flipped through the pages ever faster, until after a tense moment he finally seemed to find something which caused him to double-take. Flipping backward a few pages towards the middle, he came to a page depicting a column of fog at sea obscuring a stony channel. The Kecleon looked up towards port, where he saw that there in front of him was a column of fog marking the presence of a Mystery Dungeon. At this, the chameleon leapt up and pointed out to the left.
"There!" Calino cried, pointing off towards a foggy column with his claw. "Towards that Mystery Dungeon!"
"Eh?!" Beatrix buzzed. "That'll take us straight into the Dead Zone!"
"It'll also take us into a detour we can shake that Company ship in!"
Beatrix looked skeptically at Calino and his tome before turning her attention off to the Mystery Dungeon he was gesturing at. His route was
in there? She presumed that he meant for them to skirt the edges, but even so, that would take her crew through the Dead Zone! The patch of sea around Conntow where since its destruction ships that strayed too close to the island were sometimes never heard from again. The Illumise hesitated and looked back at the galleon rapidly closing on them, before shaking her head and buzzing an order out to her subordinates.
"Hard to port!"
The ship lurched left, and a cry went up among the escorts. The sea Pokémon accompanying the Siglo Swellow whipped up a wave as their aerial counterparts gave the ship a tailwind, sailing against the natural current of the sea and directly for the red buoys marking the edge of the Dead Zone's waters.
The sudden flurry of activity did not go unnoticed as the galleon also turned, with a few stray beams zipping past the white-sailed schooner. Beatrix watched as her ship neared the foggy expanse ahead, before looking back and watching the Company ship slip back further and further… Wait a minute!
They stopped chasing after them!
The crew watched as the lavender-sailed galleon started to fade with the fog at the edge of the Mystery Dungeon. The ship's escorts eased their current, discovering that the waters calmly trickled opposite the sea's course outside. Some of the escorts went up ahead to scout the way forward as the rest of the crew exhaled a sigh of relief, before turning curious eyes to Calino as he scooped up the ruddy tome.
"So... what is in that book anyway?" Natrix asked.
"Yeah," Philips chimed in. "How were you able to pull that shortcut out of your hat so easily?"
"Oh, it's nothing special," Calino shrugged and waved a claw dismissively, the barest hint of a sheepish grin showing on his face. "I knew that this journal had some bits about the old sea routes the Merchantry used around here, so it was just a matter of finding them."
"Eh? Just what kind of journal
has that sort of stuff in there?" Beatrix asked.
"A log of the different journeys that the Merchantry's founders went on," the Kecleon explained. "All the way back to the days of Taloon the Explorer!"
The nearby sailors traded puzzled looks to each other. The Merchantry had hired pirates to raid their own warehouses, and offered them 200,000 Poké just to keep the Company from reading some musty old diary? Why go through all the trouble?
"But Bruna made it sound like it was something important!" Pat exclaimed. "Why would the Company be so interested in a bunch of old journal entries?"
"Because our founders gave the Merchantry some of its best trade secrets and recorded them in this book," the Normal-Type answered. "Ever since the Branch Manager in Giotto got a position in the Imperial Admiralty, the Company's been pushing to pre-emptively even the playing field."
"So... are those secrets the reason why the book has that strange writing?" Pladur asked. "Because you're using it as a code?"
"Er… I think you didn't quite follow me earlier. It's not just a book
of our founders' secrets," the Kecleon re-iterated. "It was actually
written by them all the way back when Pokémon were still using Footprint Runes to write."
"Footprint Runes?"
The chameleon gave a small smile and lifted the book closer up to the Fraxure's eyes. Now that Calino mentioned it… the writing really
did look like a bunch of little footprints! The Dragon-Type gave a puzzled stare back at the Merchantry employee as a bemused smile crossed his maw.
"It's exactly what it sounds like. Back in the old days of the Cradle, it's how Pokémon wrote things," Calino explained. "Naturally, it was a bit hard to do that a lot of the time, so for travelers and bookkeepers like Taloon the Explorer and the founders, they would write out rough versions of those footprints."
The Kecleon's scales started to flush a proud, purple hue as the lizard ran a claw over a few lines of the footprint-shaped text in the tome for the gathered sailors to see.
"It's a little tough, but for a few of them, you can see what runes they wound up becoming in our modern writing. Take a look at this one here…" he said, pointing out a three-toed footprint with a pair of single-toed footprints oriented at angles underneath them.
"'Fire'?" the first mate asked. "I mean, I guess
that one is obvious since it looks like a Fire Blast if you squint at it hard enough, but how's anyone supposed to make sense of the other ones?"
At the Hitmontop's question, Calino gave a shake of his head before proudly puffing out his chest.
"You'd either need to learn how to read Footprint Runes, or you'd need someone to write a transcription for you…" the Kecleon replied. "Like me!"
"Wait, you mean you can read this?" a Golduck asked.
"Well of course!" Calino chortled. "How else would I have told you about this route here?"
Some murmurs and nods of agreement floated about the gathered sailors. Satisfied with the aid that Calino's journal had given her crew, Beatrix gave a twitch of her antennae before buzzing to draw attention.
"Well, it looks like it's smooth sailing out from here," the Illumise chuckled. "So I guess we have you and your ability to read those dusty old runes to thank for that."
"Heh, who knows?" the Kecleon said. "If you make it worth my while, maybe I'll be able to teach you some of the basics before we all pull into port!"
A chorus of hearty chortles went about the crew as the Siglo Swellow continued its slow course along the rocky channel. Even as the fog thickened around them, the crew felt as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. After all, they had already gone through the eye of the storm in their journey to Giotto…
Right?
As the Siglo Swellow sailed away, Lyn's ship had come to a rest just behind the red buoys marking the edge of the sea patch the Siglo Swellow had sailed into. The Samurott leaned on the railing, a spyglass in one paw and blade in the other, twitching his whiskers irkedly as he watched the schooner's crew gather around the form of a Kecleon holding a hefty tome. Elsewhere along the deck, the Pokémon in the crew gave apprehensive gazes at the waters ahead, as if they were a massive patch of poison.
"So much for searching
that ship," a Krokorok muttered.
"Yeah, they must be desperate if they're sailing off
that way," a Fearow added.
"And of course they'd wind up making things difficult for me…" Lyn grumbled. The otter grit his teeth and lowered his scope from his eye, before giving a shake of his head and turning back to his crew on the deck.
"We're going in."
"C-Captain?! That's the Dead Zone!" an Absol with a Second-Rank scarf spluttered incredulously. "Nothing but disaster awaits you if you go there!"
"Yes, and that ship that just turned tail on us showed up in the registrar of recent dockings at Kenobi!" the Samurott growled, gesturing at the fading form of the Siglo Swellow with a seamitar. "To top it off, there's a Kecleon onboard prancing around with our prize-!"
"Hold it right there, Commissioner!"
Before Lyn could finish barking out his order, he was cut off by the sound of churning water as Zorn raised his head from the sea. The Gyarados gave an irritated twitch of his barbels, before shooting an unamused scowl over at his subordinate.
"Lyn, you're a Third-Rank," the sea serpent scolded. "
You of all Pokémon ought to know better by now that the Dead Zone's waters are dangerous to navigate."
"Administrator Zorn, if I may, but wasn't it
you that told me that this journal was of strategic importance to the Company?" Lyn prodded. "Surely
that would be reason enough to head into those waters while we have that ship in our sights."
"You should learn to better manage your risks, Commissioner," Zorn chided. "The journal
is important, but denying its utility to our rivals is an acceptable alternative outcome to the Board. I don't consider 'running up a score' worth risking an Administrator and a Third-Rank's crew."
Lyn scowled back at the Administrator, incredulous as to how the Gyarados could so casually accept losing his target like that. The Absol first mate, sensing the tension in the air, spoke up, hoping to help sway his superior's mind.
"Captain, there
has to be another way we can catch up with them," the Dark-Type insisted. "Assuming they don't die in those waters, they have to come out
somewhere, right?"
The Samurott gave a dismissive shake of his head before huffing back unconvinced. Just what were they supposed to do
other than letting the schooner sail off?
"Well, do either of you two have any
alternative proposals, then?"
"The current the smugglers' schooner took exits the Dead Zone at the rocks on the other side of the fog," Zorn offered. "Assuming they make the trip over without incident, we should be able to safely cut them off there."
"Hrmm..." Lyn paused, working over Zorn's suggestion in his head. After running through a number of possibilities, he realized that while the plan wasn't necessarily ideal, it seemed viable after all. And with the Chronicle as important and sensitive as it was, there was no sense in splitting hairs over a strategy that worked.
"… It'll be a stretch," the Samurott murmured, "but if we sail now, we might be able to make it."
With that, the two Company higher-ups had reached a consensus. Now that he had a destination in mind, Lyn felt ready to mobilize his crew. The Samurott sheathed his blade, before turning to his underlings and barking out an order.
"Turn us hard to port and take us south!"
A chorus of 'ayes' went up as the crew set about to turn the ship. The escorts stirred up the air and sea to force the Argent Aviso against the ocean's natural current. The Water-Type glared back at the Mystery Dungeon just past the edge of the Dead Zone before giving a harrumph. Detour or no detour, he would not allow those smugglers to elude him so easily.
Ahead of both the Argent Aviso and Siglo Swellow was a galleon with orange sails with white jawbone designs on it. The Tramontane Tyrant had been Tarquin's reliable partner since even before his days in piracy, and it allowed him to remain a force to be reckoned with after his transition to his newfound trade of raiding and plundering.
But out on the high seas, there was nary a companion but some feral Tentacool passing in the distance at sea, Wingull above, and the sound of trumpets being played by some more idle crewmembers. In spite of that, as the Tyrantrum spotted a rocky outcropping in front of a column of fog up ahead, he seemed as focused and battle-ready as ever. The Dragon-Type breaking the relative silence with a growling cry to his lackeys.
"Drop the anchor and pull up the sails!" Tarquin ordered. "This is it!"
A
splash rang out as the ship's anchor slipped under the water's surface. The deck flew into a commotion as Pokémon hoisted the rigging to pull the sails up, and the fliers and sea escorts quickly set to work whipping up currents to slow the galleon. The ship's momentum soon came to a stop, leaving behind only the gentle rolling of the waves as the crew began to crowd around the stern's deck where Tarquin stood scanning the surroundings.
"Captain, why did we stop here?" a Meowstic asked. "I thought you said we were chasing after a mark you spotted back in port!"
"Yeah, we haven't seen a ship since we left Andaku!" a Cacturne added. "The only thing I see around here is a bunch of seawater and that Mystery Dungeon's fog on the starboard side."
"That's because our marks aren't
here yet," Tarquin snapped. "Back in port, I overheard those lizards on the way out from delivering that book. It's apparently valuable enough that they went through all the trouble of using
us as fall guys to steal it from the Company."
Tarquin looked over the railing and gestured at the stream in the seawater with his claw, tracing westward, opposite of the current's course.
"They contracted a crew as couriers back in Andaku to take it to Giotto by midnight tonight," the dinosaur explained. "Their only hope for being able to make that deadline would be to sail against the current and through this pass."
Uneasy murmurs circulated amongst the crew about how absurd this plan was. Going all the way out to the edge of the Dead Zone around Conntow to lie in wait over some book? That hardly seemed worth the trouble at all! Sensing the dissatisfaction in the air, Tarquin gave a low growl, quickly silencing the chatter as he continued on.
"That wasn't the
only thing I was planning on shaking down from those Tromban hicks," the Dragon-Type added. "We'll be taking their cargo and ransoming their crew."
The Tyrantrum gave a thoughtful stroke of his beard, a toothy grin creeping over his maw as thoughts of the prestige his young crew would gain if their job turned out well. After all, expanding from one ship was the first step to being seriously considered to be in the higher ranks of Orleigh, and an expansion thanks to one's own skills as a pirate was all the more impressive.
"Who knows? If this all goes smoothly enough, maybe I'll hang my colors from their ship and turn us into the ‘Strongjaw
Fleet!'"
The mention of loot and perhaps even a second ship to hang the Strongjaw Gang's sails from drew excited chatter among the crew. Even so, a few skeptics remained, including a Medicham who waved for attention and cleared her throat to speak.
"But how exactly does that happen, Captain?" the Fighting-Type demanded. "We can't
get any of that stuff if those couriers spot us and give us the slip."
"Simple," Tarquin began. "We'll take our ship into the outskirts of the fog and keep Cuvier and his fliers on watch to tip us off when those couriers pass by-"
"Oh, you'll pay for that!"
"Bring it, snake!"
Tarquin turned his head as the sound of a commotion in the gathering broke out. The Tyrantrum looked up just in time to see the crowd scatter to avoid a Zangoose and Seviper locked in heated battle, the tangled pair coming to a rolling stop in front of the Dragon-Type. The two righted themselves from the deck, and prepared to lunge for each other only to feel the boat rock underfoot with the sound of a loud stomp and a bellowing roar.
"What is going on here?!"
The crew traded unimpressed looks with the feuding pair, prompting Scian's Flareon partner to throw a paw over his snout and his Banette teammate to grit his zippered mouth and freeze. The Zangoose and Seviper hastily separated from each other, and traded piercing glares before they launched into recriminations.
"
She started it!" Scian exclaimed, pointing a claw at a visibly fuming Seviper.
"You
clawed me while I was passing by, you miserable ferret!" the serpent hissed.
"Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't have done that tongue thing at me!"
"
Sōna no?!" the Poison-Type seethed. "Then maybe I'll do my
sword thing on you now-!"
"Knock it off, Akane!" Tarquin snapped.
The Seviper froze, blinking stunned before turning to her superior with an incredulous hiss. The Captain couldn't seriously be choosing the ferret's side over hers!
"E-Eh?!"
"You've been on my crew from the start," the Tyrantrum growled. "Try and
act the part already!"
"But he-!"
"Nyeh!" Scian jeered, gleefully pulling his right eyelid down and sticking his tongue out at the Poison-Type. "Looks like
you're in trouble-"
"And
you…"
The Zangoose froze in place at the sound of the tyrannosaur's snarl. The Cat Ferret Pokémon looked up as a couple beads of sweat formed below his pelt, staring into a piercing glare from the Dragon-Type.
"Er… yeah?"
"On this ship, all our jobs require working as a
team to pull off," Tarquin growled. "When things go south because some moron doesn't play ball, I get
rid of him. Are we clear?"
Scian flattened out his ears and gave an aggravated hiss. The Normal-Type reflexively tensed his claws, only to feel a pair of presences tug on them from behind. Much to Scian's surprise, Kai and Cerny had darted up, the two visibly nervous as they tried to smooth things over.
"Scian gets it, and I'm sure this won't happen again. Isn't that right…?"
Scian gave an unamused frown at his Flareon companion, knowing full well that the Fire-Type had put him on the spot. Cerny for his part seemed to be confused, as he gave a quizzical tilt of his head at Kai's claim.
"Eh? Since when did he ever get along with a Sev- Ow!"
The Banette yelped and yanked his hand back after Kai bit down on it, shooting a glare that promptly silenced the Ghost-Type. Scian rolled his eyes, unamused by his teammates' insistence on always interfering with simple matters like these, and decided to take his response into his own paws.
"Fine.
If the mission needs it, I'll play ball."
Scian's fur pricked up at the sound of a low growl. The Normal-Type looked up, and saw that Tarquin was leaning over him, giving a piercing glare with teeth bared directly in the Cat Ferret Pokémon's face.
"Er… I mean, ‘I'll play along?" the Zangoose hastily said. "Couldn't hurt, anyways."
The Tyrantrum pulled his maw back with an eye roll and an unimpressed huff. After giving a shake of his head to sufficiently clear his mind from the annoying distraction, Tarquin turned his attention to a Toucannon perched on some nearby rigging.
"Hrmph. Go on ahead and set up a lookout with your fliers, Cuvier," the Dragon-Type said to the Flying-Type. "Give us a shout when you see them, we'll be waiting in the fog."
The toucan gave a salute and took wing with a small entourage of fellow fliers, leaving Tarquin to turn back to his crew. At the bellowing orders of their Tyrantrum captain, the crew of the Tramontane Tyrant set about easing the ship into the foggy periphery of the nearby Mystery Dungeon, to lie patiently in wait for their mark. As the mist thickened around him, a smile began to creep over Tarquin's maw, the Dragon-Type relishing a chance to deal some revenge back to the accursed island that had made him stoop to this level in the first place.
"This'll be just like old times…"
The Siglo Swellow's course was plotted through a narrow, rocky pass. Beatrix and her Hitmontop first mate dutifully alternated between turns at the tiller and vigilantly watching from the bow, navigating carefully on the very border of the Mystery Dungeon's area of influence. The rest of the deck was near-empty, a majority of the crew having retreated down below for a brief break. Some passed the time playing cards, while others took the precious downtime off to scarf down some rations before they'd be called on for work once again. Even Calino managed to relax a bit, taking the downtime to give a crash course on Footprint Runes to a few curious onlookers in a red paperback journal he kept for transcribing notes.
Despite the relaxed atmosphere of the ship, something odd lingered in the air: an oppressive feeling which began to unnerve even the jubilant crew, given time. Their surroundings didn't help, either - a few Pokemon made note of a hazily visible cluster of what seemed to be Pokémon statues clustered on a sea rock about halfway through the passage, with reports following soon thereafter of a faint shriek, and a sighting by Pladur of a hazy reddish-black shape in the distance.
By the end of their voyage through the Mystery Dungeon zone, every crewmember seemed unnerved to some degree by the omens which seemed to follow them through the passage. Nevertheless, after what felt like ages, the ship finally pulled out of the craggy waterway and into the open waters. A collective sigh of relief could be felt as the dungeon's fog dispersed, giving way to azure-blue midday skies. The crew gathered back up on deck, reassured by the clear skies, and slowly the jolly mood began to wash over the ship's crew once more.
"Heh, that shortcut wasn't half bad," Pat chuckled. "Maybe we'll use it again sometime in the future!"
"I dunno, Pat… ever since we went down this route, I've had the feeling that we were being watched," Pladur muttered, chancing a nervous glance out at the horizon. "And then there was that red
thing off in the distance."
"I mean, I'm aware that these aren't safe waters to navigate, but I didn't hear of any of the other crewmates seeing anything of the sort," Beatrix said. "Are you sure it wasn't just anxiety playing tricks on you, Pladur?"
The Fraxure anxiously shifted, looking back apprehensively at the fog. Calino, sensing that his new partner seemed rather on-edge, gave a shake of his head and tried to reassure the Dragon-Type.
"Well, regardless of if there was something out there, let's not sweat it," the Kecleon added, breathing a sigh of relief. "We're out of that sea route now, and it should be smooth sailing to Giotto from here-"
BLAM!
The crew of the Siglo Swellow flinched as a swarm of projectiles whistled over the top of the bow. A startled yelp went up as dead ahead, the form of an orange-sailed galleon broke out from the fog, a pair of cannons trained on the Siglo Swellow as Tarquin stood at its head.
"A-Ack! Pirates! Pirates!"
"Quick!" Beatrix buzzed. "Hard to starboard- !"
THUNK! THUNK!
Pladur and Pat looked over the railing where they saw three harpoons embedded in the hull of the Siglo Swellow. The sea escorts hastily cut through one, only to be driven off by cannonfire and a school of sea Pokémon in orange scarves. The crew of the Siglo Swellow was pulled closer and closer in as the cannons trained their targets on the deck itself, their blood running cold as Tarquin leapt the remaining gap and landed on deck with a snarl.
WHAM!
The Tyrantrum disgorged a searing beam along the deck, sending Pokémon diving out of the way in panic as a long, smoldering gouge was burnt into the timbers. As the crew of the Siglo Swellow tried to shake themselves from their stunned panic, a loud
thunk resounded as a wide gangway dropped onto the deck, allowing a mob of pirates to cross over onto the smaller schooner. There was for example a sneering Seviper; a Zangoose flashing his claws, ready to pounce at any uncooperative sailors; and a Toucannon giving a withering glare at their trapped quarry. The crew's attention quickly centered back on Tarquin, as the tyrannosaur snarled, smoke still curling from his maw.
"Anyone tries any funny business, and the lot of you hicks will be getting swimming lessons right here and now!"
The cornered crew blanched. As paws were raised disarmingly, they all took a few slow steps back, putting some distance between themselves and the pirate captain. Seeing their victims so overtly shaken, some of Tarquin's lackies saw fit to have some fun with them: a Seviper slithered forth, hissing as she swiped at the air with her bladed tail, and a Raticate snarled menacingly, gnashing her teeth at the terrified sailors. Now that his boarding had went off without a hitch, Tarquin let his maw open just to flash his razor-sharp teeth, a delighted growl rumbling from his throat.
"I see you still haven't forgotten about me from my days back on your accursed island," the Tyrantrum sneered. "Good, it'll save me time having to remind you of what I'm capable of."
"What- What do you want from us?" Pat stammered.
"A little bird told me that the Merchantry contracted you to transport a book chock full of valuable secrets," Tarquin snorted. "I was already angling to clean you Tromban hicks out for everything you had, but I figured that we ought to start with the
important stuff…"
The Tyrantrum craned his head down to Beatrix. The Bug-Type felt the former Company Commander's hot breath and saw embers flicker at the back of his throat as a toothy, predatory grin spread over Tarquin's face.
"You're their captain, aren't you?" the tyrannosaur demanded. "Where is that book?"
"What book?"
"Don't play games with me! The one I just talked about!" Tarquin roared. "I
know you're carrying a journal those lizards gave to you!"
Beatrix looked side to side, and after a noticeable pause looking at the hole in the railing Tarquin and his lackeys had left, she shook her head and gave a begrudging sigh.
"Calino… I don't think we can get out of this one," the Illumise sighed. "Give them the book."
"E-Eh?!" the Kecleon protested. "But that's a-!"
"Give them your journal, Calino," she insisted. "The one they're looking for and you were just showing off earlier."
"Wait, you mean
my journal?" Calino asked. "Are you
sure?"
"That's right," Beatrix said, shaking her head. "I'm sure these ‘mons would like to get a chance to read for themselves-"
"Hurry it up!" Tarquin snapped.
"Alright…" Calino gulped. "Here goes nothing..."
The Kecleon rooted through his bag and passed a paperback journal in a ratty dust cover over to Beatrix. The Illumise held out the covered book in a tarsal, as the Tyrantrum reached with his stubby claws and snatched up the the book for himself. As the Dragon-Type gave a triumphant growl, his Seviper first mate licked the air and gave an askew look.
"Boss," the snake hissed. "Something smells fruity right now."
The Tyrantrum, too enamored with self-confidence from his easy victory, gave a dismissive shake of his claws.
"That's the smell of victory, Akane," he answered flippantly. "My favorite kind of smell."
"No really, something smells weird!" the Raticate insisted. "It smells like a meadow here at the middle of the sea!"
Tarquin paused and realized that now that they mentioned it, things
did smell unusually sweet. As the pirates looked around, his first mate noticed that the Siglo Swellow’s crew seemed to have eased out of their initial petrified shock and were whispering to one another. Akane turned her head to Beatrix where she noticed that the Bug-Type was still holding her tarsus out, pointing in the direction of the hole in the railing behind the pirates.
"Hey!" the Seviper exclaimed. "That bug's signalin-!"
"Ack!" a Toucannon lackey interrupted. "There's a Company ship coming!"
"Huh?!"
Growling, Tarquin whirled around, eyes to the horizon. The gathered pirates followed his gaze in turn, the lot of them sharing their own shocked silence at the sight of another galleon flying the telltale Company sails.
"Wait,
what-?!"
Back behind them, the crew of the Siglo Swellow watched as Tarquin and his underlings turned to the sea. Sensing the opportunity of a lifetime, Beatrix gave a loud buzz and motioned forward for the attack.
"
Now!"
"That's the smugglers' ship up ahead," a Crobat said, pointing out the Siglo Swellow and the Tramontane Tyrant up ahead. "Looks like they're meeting their client."
Lyn spotted the hazy form of two ships, a larger one with orange sails and a smaller one with white sails. The Samurott decided to get a closer look, digging into a shoulder satchel for a scope that he raised to his eye. Through the looking glass, Lyn skimmed over the two seacraft, coming to the sight of a mob of orange-scarved Pokémon at the edge of the Siglo Swellow staring startledly back at him. There, towering above the rest was the heavy, lumbering gait of a Tyrantrum…
Wait a minute. A ship with orange sails, led by a
Tyrantrum?
"That's no client!" Lyn exclaimed. "Those are the pirates who raided the compound in the first place!"
He continued watching intently, spyglass trained on the dumbfounded Tyrantrum and his cronies. Suddenly, Tarquin was shunted forward, flailing his arms in vain to keep his balance on the edge of the ship before being heaved - along with his subordinates - headlong into the water. The sea around the ship flew into a frenzy as a shoal of aquatic Pokemon struggled to haul their flailing leader and comrades back towards their own ship.
The smugglers' crew seemed aware that there was no time to celebrate, though. Even as their attackers flailed in the water, an Illumise among them began barking hurried orders to their own sea escorts, who began to scramble towards the back of the ship. The sea Pokémon alongside the schooner stirred up a mighty current, swiftly ferrying the Siglo Swellow away from its aggressors. Tarquin and his now-sopping boarding party were helped back aboard their own vessel just in time to catch the tail end of the opposing ship sail away from them.
The drenched Tyrantrum visibly seethed, his posture tightening and his stubby claws balled into fists. His Seviper subordinate raised her head to speak- perhaps to try to calm her irate superior- but fell down as Tarquin stamped his foot into the deck of his ship, sending a splinter of planks about the area. Lyn set down his spyglass with a condescending tsk, he'd seen quite enough of the Strongjaw Gang and their competence by now.
"Amateurs," he scoffed. The Water-Type turned around to give his crew fresh orders, only for his first mate to stammeringly interject.
"Um… Captain?” the Absol asked. “We should really turn the ship around right now."
"Are you
daft?! They're making a break for it right now!" the Samurott bellowed. "Take us northwest, we'll cut them off-!"
BOOM!
A distant peal rang out as a hail of colorful projectiles zipped through the deck. While some managed to avoid the incoming shot like a Weavile who skillfully dodged a nutty pellet, other crewmembers weren't so lucky. Lyn watched his first mate get struck by a blue blur, dissolving into light and getting sucked into an Apricorn that came to a tumbling stop on the deck. Panicked shouts rang out on the ship as the same fate befell other crewmembers, prompting their compatriots to break ranks instinctively.
Lyn whirled back to the orange-sailed galleon and reflexively raised his spyglass. There, he saw the captain berating a hapless Shiinotic as startled, sinking expressions spread across the faces of his lackeys. By chance, the Samurott noticed upon a Zangoose picking up an item off the deck in the background, which on closer inspection was a soggy tome in a ratty dust jacket with a Merchantry logo emblazoned on it.
"Grr..."
Lyn shoved the spyglass back into his bag and grit his teeth as the sound of some crew members breaking out of their Apricorns sounded on the deck, before turning his attention to the still-intact blue Apricorn trapping his first mate. The otter brought his seamitar down on the blue nut, cleaving it in two under his blade as a white light shot out, coalescing into the form of a panting and wide-eyed Absol.
"Looks like our prize is right here!" the Samurott snarled. "Bring out the cannons and fire at will!"
The deck flew into a chaotic flurry as the crew assumed battle positions. While the cannons were wheeled out and fired at the pirate ship, the two galleons slowly began to close in on each other. As gap became close enough, Lyn spewed out a torrent of water while capable underlings similarly contributed beam attacks of their own.
The two vessels hastily shrouded themselves in arrays of Protect barriers, serving to imperfectly shield the ships, along with their crews. Under withering fire, Zorn and the sea escorts charged ahead to battle Tarquin's sea escorts. From his vantage point on the deck, Lyn could see the two sides rapidly stalemate after Zorn was separated from his underlings and got forced to fend off a ring of attackers.
At that, the Samurott drew a blade and hopped onto the railing, prompting a surprised yelp from his Absol first mate.
"Captain?!" the Dark-Typee exclaimed. "What are you doing?!"
"I'm going in with Administrator Zorn," Lyn answered. "Hold down the fort and keep suppressive fire on that galleon!"
The Water-Type dove into the sea and felt the waters close in overhead. Lyn looked ahead and saw that while his superior and his charges managed to push closer to Tarquin's ship, they continued to struggle against the enemy school of attackers, lobbing pressurized jets of water along with scattered electric currents. The otter dove down, and cut through the water underneath before diving up for the surface, ramming aside a Bruxish and a Wailmer along the way. The school, disturbed by suddenly having its lines pierced, broke off into disorganized groups that Zorn and the swimmers with him swiftly pursued, while others swam up to harry the pirates near the edge of the ship back.
Lyn swam forth, racing for the galleon as his eyes came upon a Zangoose, Banette, and Flareon overpowering and shoving a tottering lavender-scarved Poliwhirl overboard. There, still in the mongoose's claws, was his prize, the Taloons' Chronicle. Without missing a beat, the Samurott caught a wave, and launched himself into the air. The Water-Type sailed on through the air for the deck, coming to a stop in front of Cerny and Kai with a bellowing roar that made the pair flush pale before their ringleader hastily piped up.
"Wha-?! Don't just stand there, you two!" the Zangoose cried. "Get that Company rat!"
The Flareon lunged at the Samurott with fangs bared as his Banette partner ran over with his claws trailing a shadowy substance. Before either of the two could reach their target, Lyn reared up and brought his seamitars in a cross-shaped sweeping motion, catching the pair with agonized yelps.
Scian watched as Kai sailed headlong into a wall with a thud and slumped against the deck, while Cerny fell overboard with a splash. The Zangoose, acutely aware that it was now just him against the Commissioner, went wide-eyed and stammered out of fright.
"G-Gih! Get away from me, you sea ferret!"
The Zangoose turned and bolted for the entrance below deck, running as fast as his legs would allow. Halfway to the door, Scian heard a startled squawk and a loud crack as a burning beam zipped through the topmast of the nearby sails, prompting the Normal-Type to look up and see a crow's nest freefalling into his path.
He jumped out of the way as the structure came down and crashed into the doorway. The Cat Ferret Pokémon looked around frantically for another way to escape, only to see his Samurott assailant running at him with blades drawn.
"Y-You asked for it, ya overgrown weasel!" Scian cried. "Take this!"
The Zangoose tensed his free claw as whitish auras formed along its tips and leapt up. The Normal-Type swung his claw overhead and brought it down with the pull of gravity, aiming his desperate strike at Lyn's shoulder.
"Get
out of my way!"
The Samurott parried Scian’s claw with a strike of his seamitar, making his foe wobble and lose his balance. His mind fully preoccupied with his desperate battle, Scian dropped the journal to free up his other claw to try and swipe again at Lyn. As the Normal-Type swung, his otter opponent balled up his paw around his blade's hilt and catch the Scian's chin with an uppercutting punch.
WHAM!
The Samurott's blow sent the Zangoose flying atop the ruined crow's nest, before tottering and tumbling over the other side. With his foe stunned and audibly groaning, Lyn turned his attention back to the journal as the din of surrounding battle hung in the air.
"Hrmph, they just don't know when to give up..."
With his last obstacle removed, the Samurott darted over to grab the journal, his paw falling on the cover just as he felt the ship rock with heavy footsteps. Before the otter could leave the pirate ship with his prize, he felt a crushing bite into his shoulder and hot breath on his hide.
Lyn bellowed out in pain and watched as a large, red, three-toed foot kicked away his prize. Reflexively, the Water-Type changed his grip on his other seamitar and jabbed backwards at the biting presence. The Commissioner felt the grip on his shoulder release with a pained roar and quickly rolled free, turning back to see that his assailant was none other than the glowering Tyrantrum captain of the ship.
"I'm the captain here, and I'll be taking that back!" Tarquin growled.
"Carrying illegal weapons on an unchartered ship
and firing on a Company vessel," Lyn snarled. "Tell me, lizard. Just how much of a death wish do you have?"
"Hmph, I was with the Company for over a decade before they decided to throw that out the window," the Tyrantrum spat. "Your ship is nothing I can't handle!"
"We'll see about that!"
Green sparks began to trail off of Tarquin's right claw as the Tyrantrum brought a swipe down at the Samurott, only to hear a
splutch and wrench his claw back as a sharp pain shot through it.
"Gyaaah!"
The Dragon-Type felt something wet dripping down his claw and reflexively pinned it against his body when he saw a seamitar coming for his face. Tarquin hastily jumped back, leaving his assailant to swing at air. The tyrannosaur then opened his maw and lunged at his foe.
Tarquin was stopped dead, however, as a biting cold gripped his lower body. With a cruel grin on his face, Lyn stared him down, targeting a beam from his mouth at the Tyrantrum's feet. Snarling, Tarquin struggled to free himself from the growing layer of frost on his legs, but it was no use; the icy weight grew heavier and heavier until finally he couldn't budge from where he stood.
"Stick around," the Samurott jeered. Lyn allowed himself to shoot a smug, victorious grin at Tarquin before turning on his heels and darted towards the tome, which laid open facedown on the deck a short distance away.
Tarquin struggled against the ice caked on his feet to no avail. Realizing that his foe was about to steal his prize, the Tyrantrum fished around his bags for items, anything to help tip the scales.
The Dragon-Type felt his claws run over a round, scaled object, which made his eyes light up upon realizing that it was none other than a Blast Seed. Reflexively, Tarquin grabbed the seed and wrenched it out, scattering the bag's contents as he threw an orange seed into his mouth…
And bit down.
Fwooooosh!
Tarquin winced as he felt fire singe his legs, and pulled his feet free of now thinned and fragile ice. The dinosaur darted forward, flinging water and ice fragments from his lower body as he ran forward with a bellowing roar.
As Lyn picked up the book, he heard the roar and loud footsteps behind him and saw Tarquin once again charging for him with his maw wide open. The Samurott attempted to slash the incoming Tyrantrum, but with a timely stop from the Dragon-Type and a step backwards, Lyn was left slashing at empty air, prompting Tarquin to hastily lunge at the book Lyn was holding in his paw.
The two wrenched the tome back and forth, Tarquin's maw occupied as he clamped down while Lyn's grasp with his paw undercut his balance to slash back at his foe. Tarquin's underlings hastily gathered around, each waiting uneasily for the other to make the first strike against the much stronger Samurott, only for his first mate to slither through with her sword-tail honed for a jab.
"Captain, hang in the- Argh!"
Akane felt a crushing blow at the back of her head and hit the deck stunned. As the Seviper attempted to regain her bearings, she saw a white, furry creature running off ahead for the squabbling captains.
"Butt out,
péist!" Scian hissed. "I've got this!"
The Normal-Type ran towards the Samurott, preparing a swipe of his claws at Lyn's paw. Suddenly, the otter forced Tarquin off balance, yanking the book and tugging the Dragon-Type directly into Scian's path. The Zangoose hastily attempted to compensate, dragging his claws to the side and away from his captain…
Thwip
Directly over the spine of the book. The two captains fell away from each other as the damaged binding gave way under their tugs, scattering the tome's pages just as a sea wind picked up and carried them off the deck.
"
AAGH!"
Both Lyn and Tarquin stared for a moment of stunned silence, jaws agape, as they watched the many pages of the journal float away on the sea breeze. Lyn grabbed out at the air, trying in vain to snatch a stray page as it fluttered by. The two began to quiver furiously almost in unison, words alone not enough to express one's rage to the other or the white furball that had caused this disaster.
"Grr! You-!"
Scowling, Lyn drew a seamitar and reared up to strike, only for Tarquin's tail to catch him first, slamming into the side of his gut with enough force to lift him off the ground and clear off of the ship. The seamitar flew out of his grasp, and he dropped unceremoniously into the waters below with a bellowing shout. Tarquin glanced around, realizing Lyn had been the last real threat standing in their way, and the path was now clear for them to escape without a hitch. He turned to his crew to give the order.
"Pull the wounded aboard and whip up a current!" Tarquin ordered. "We're getting out of here!"
Lyn managed to recover soon after hitting the water, the cold seawater shaking him from his punch-drunk stupor. He cut through the water, dodging and weaving around pot-shots taken by Tarquin's nearby sea escorts. With one last dive, he managed to snatch his seamitar and stow it into its sheath, after which he turned tail and darted back towards his own ship. His pride as bruised as his underbelly, he breached the water and landed on the deck of his ship, looking perhaps angrier than he had at any other time that day.
"After them!" Lyn bellowed. "I want that pirate hulk at the bottom of the sea even if we have to chase them into Garanza to do it-!"
"Hold it right there, Commissioner!"
The Samurott turned his head at the sound of Zorn's admonishment, just in time to see the Gyarados surface. The sea serpent slithered over, his face etched with an unamused frown all the while.
"Administrator Zorn, they're slipping away from us right now!" the Samurott seethed.
"I'm aware of that, Commissioner Lyn," Zorn answered. "But it doesn't matter, your mission is complete."
"It would be
more complete if that Tarquin was in my brig in chains right now!" the mustelid spat.
"And risk getting your ship further damaged?" Zorn demanded. "Need I remind you that Imperial patrols regularly come into these waters? Do you think they'd pass on the chance to pounce on one of our ships if it was a tattered wreck?"
Lyn grumbled wordlessly. Once again, loath as he was to admit it, the Administrator had a point. The last thing he needed today was a skirmish with the Imps, no matter how badly he wanted that pirate in his brig. Defeated, he turned to his First Mate and gave the final order of the mission.
"... Turn around and set sail for Vollezee," Lyn said, shaking his head. "We've accomplished what we need to here."
"Aye, captain," the Absol responded.
The first mate passed the order along to the crew, and slowly the sails were lowered and the ship turned around with the current. As the Argent Aviso sailed off, Lyn shot one last glare at Tarquin's ship as it slipped over the horizon before giving a dissatisfied huff. The Board did say that destroying the journal was an acceptable outcome, so that was the end of that…
So why was there a nagging feeling that this matter
hadn't been settled?
"You blithering
idiot! What on earth made you think it was a good idea to interfere like that?!"
Tarquin's bellowing shout rang out on a crowded deck, the dinosaur stomping against the timbers underfoot. The captain shot a piercing, hateful glare at the object of his fury directly in front of his snout: a visibly defensive Zangoose looking around uneasily at a now glaring sea of orange-scarved pirates ringing him.
"Hey,
excuse me for trying to help!" Scian snapped back. The Tyrantrum spluttered angrily and dug his toeclaws into the deck. This impudent cat had wrecked
his journal, and now had the
gall to backtalk him after everything that had happened?!
"Grr…"
As the Dragon-Type glowered and growled, a Flareon and a Banette at the front of the crowd hastily rushed up to try to calm their superior down and prevent him from attacking their big-mouthed companion.
"H-Hey, it's not all bad Captain!" Kai interjected, his Banette companion swiftly chiming in with a reassurance of his own.
"Yeah, thanks to Scian, you were able to punt that square-neck off so we could get away!"
Although still visibly seething, the Flareon and Banette's words seemed to have their desired effect. The huffing tyrannosaur began to calm down and reflect on how perhaps there truly was a silver lining to his predicament… only for the white furball to abruptly pipe up.
"And it's not like I came away
totally empty-clawed!" Scian exclaimed, before presenting a pawful of loose pages in his right claw. "Chill out, Whitebeard."
GRAAAAAAAAAWR!
Tarquin roared and slammed the deck, before charging at the wide-eyed and petrified Zangoose. Before the Cat Ferret Pokémon could brace himself, he felt a heavy kick in his stomach and tumbled against the deck. Scian yowled in pain as a heavy foot grounded him against the timbers. The Normal-Type looked up, still panting for breath as a Bibarel gathered up his dropped pages. Tarquin pulled his foot back, glaring at Scian's Flareon and Banette companions as they gulped and traded visibly apprehensive looks with each other.
"Grab these three idiots and bring them to the railing!" the Tyrantrum snarled. "I want to see the lot of them walk the plank!"
At the Dragon-Type's words, the deck flew into a frenzy as Scian, Kai, and Cerny were seized and drug along yelping and struggling towards a railing. There, a Passimian lowered a plank and pinned it under a stack of crates as the three pirates were forced out onto it to a chorus of jeers, Akane taking a particular relish in the trio's plight with a taunting wave of her tail and flick of her tongue.
"Have a nice fall,
ferret!" the serpent jeered.
The three stumbled onto the plank, the lot of them struggling to keep their balance on the thin and sagging strip of wood. The Flareon in particular grew alarmed at the sight of the churning waves below, shooting a desperate look back at his Zangoose teammate.
"S-Scian!" the Fire-Type pleaded. "
Do something!"
Scian looked back frantically at the glaring Tyrantrum back on the galleon's deck, and at the churning waves underneath. The Zangoose fought to keep his footing, the thought of drowning at sea motivating him to try his claw at sweet-talking Tarquin into calming down.
"Er… h-hey! Aren't you being a bit hasty here?" Scian insisted. "Any captain worth their salt wouldn't throw us out after
one mistake-"
"Shut your face and get off my ship, you useless cat!"
THWACK!
"GYAH!"
With one swipe of his tail, Tarquin sent the three of them sailing off of the ship. The pirates pinwheeled in a high arc through the air, their shouts and screams fading with distance. The Tyrantrum watched as they plunked into the water one by one with the sound of faintly audible splashes, before turning to his crew to bark out more orders.
"Serves them right," he growled. "Now let's get moving, already!"
The Tramontane Tyrant changed course with a lurch and sailed along with the current, the crew going back to work tending to the damage Lyn and his cronies had left on their ship and crew. Tarquin took out his scope to catch a quick peek back in the direction where he had knocked his victims into the water, and frowned as he saw Scian and Cerny swimming in the water, with Kai stubbornly latched onto the Banette's head. One after the other, the three stumbled onto the sea rocks, the wind changing course just enough for the Tyrantrum to faintly hear them cough up sea water and launch into recriminations against each other.
"Nice
going Scian," Kai spat.
"What? This wasn't
my fault!" The Zangoose insisted, to an exasperated sigh from his Banette teammate.
"We're gonna be stuck on these rocks awhile, aren't we?"
The Tyrantrum put his scope away and scowled. He had hoped he could have made examples of the three, but with them stranded on rocks in the middle of the sea without food or water, what were the odds they'd make it back to shore anyways?
Tarquin gave a satisfied harrumph before turning to the Bibarel from earlier to take the pages Scian had recovered in his claws. It wasn't an ideal outcome, but the journal
was valuable, so even a few scraps of the Footprint Rune text might be worth something!
"Hrmph, it wasn't as good of a haul as I'd hoped," the Dragon-Type grunted. "But at least we got one over those Tromban hicks-
Huh?!"
The Tyrantrum raised the pages back up to his snout in a start. Barely any of these runes looked remotely footprint-like like he'd overheard. This wasn't some collection of secrets and maps to treasure, this was a glorified vocabulary primer written in some clerk's Torchic scratch!
"Captain, what's wrong?" Akane asked, the Seviper's tongue flicking anxiously at the captain's sudden darkening of his demeanor.
"This is all a bunch of useless clutter that some pencil-pusher wrote!" the Tyrantrum exclaimed, angrily crumpling up the pages. "Then... that means that the real journal's with-!"
Underneath a bright blue sky, the Siglo Swellow sailed peacefully off on its course towards Giotto, far ahead of the Argent Aviso, the Tramontane Tyrant, and the other trials they had left behind. On the deck, Calino triumphantly flashed the Taloons' Chronicle before a gathered crowd of crewmates on the deck and in the surrounding waters, trading cheers and congratulations over their victory snatched from the jaws of defeat.
"Whew, I haven't had to test my acting skills like that since the last time I had to ask Bruna for a raise!" the Kecleon chortled. "Looks like I've still got it!"
"I'll say!" Pat cheered. "Good job there, Calino!"
"Yeah, you really pulled through for us there!" Philips added.
"Well, as flattered as I am, I'd have to give
some credit to your captain," Calino said, pawing some dust off of his scales. "If it wasn't for that idea, who knows what those thugs would be doing to us right now?"
Beatrix gave a small chuckle at the Kecleon's flattery After a few moments to suck in her subordinates' cheers, the firefly gave a dismissive wave of her tarsal to try and downplay the matter.
"Oh really now, Calino, we just got lucky this time," the Illumise corrected. "That said, I
think that if we stay careful, we should be in the clear here."
The Illumise flitted up above her crew and gave a buzz to quiet down her subordinates. It had been a great reversal of their fortune, yes, but there was still work to be done for their mission.
"But we can sweat the details over pay and shore leave," she buzzed, giving a playful smirk. "Onto Giotto!"
The jovial atmosphere lingered as the Siglo Swellow's crew sailed towards the horizon. They had been graced with another lucky break, one which would hopefully last this time. There was still a tight schedule to make, but when they reached port it would afford them some much-appreciated and long-overdue rest and relaxation in Giotto.
Much to the crew's relief, the rest of the journey went by without incident, the only interruptions to the sea waves being an occasional ship, flotilla of swimming Pokémon, or school of ferals. A couple hours after midnight, the first lights on the horizon were spotted, which when followed led the Siglo Swellow past a bay plastered with fortifications and into the harbor of Tidemill City.
Although its denizens weren't as unseemly, just like Andaku in Mossaisle Town, Tidemill City's open-port provided a place for any Pokémon to come and trade as they pleased regardless of their colors or affiliation, if at the expense of freedom of movement beyond the district. Fortunately for the crew, their receiving port was a far friendlier place than the pirate-infested hive that they set off from. There was a seaside market, and shipyards that hummed with activity despite the early hours. There were even a few of Tidemill's famous theaters that catered to the sailors that came and went through the district.
The ward with its squarish courtyard buildings and long, thin islands divided by canals was a colorful microcosm of the greater city. The fineries and new monuments that had been erected in Tidemill's expansion since the Empire made it its new capital just barely peeking over walls staffed with fierce guards and even more odious red tape to penetrate. Fortunately for the crew, the Merchantry, in keeping with its freeporter sensibilities, maintained its Tidemill offices directly in the harbor, which Beatrix, Pladur, Pat, and Calino were summarily summoned to by a messenger in Merchantry colors.
After a short walk through the canal-ridden streets, the four entered a blocky stone building where there inside was an elderly Kecleon waiting for them. The chameleon, donning a red silk scarf with his organization's sigil in gold thread, led the group up four flights of stairs to a windowed hallway overlooking the harbor. The party eventually reached a grand office at the end with ornately-carved push doors which their Kecleon guide led them in to. As the doors shut behind them, the Pokémon of the Siglo Swellow cast furtive glances out the window.
"You know, I was kinda expecting that we'd be meeting someplace a bit more cloak and dagger," Beatrix murmured.
"Hardly," the aged Kecleon answered. "In a place like Tidemill City, the best places for someone like me to conduct their business are often hiding in plain sight.".
"What
is this place anyways?" Pat asked.
"It's a Regional Office," Calino explained. "Pokémon in our organization like Branch Chief Walpole here have used it through the years to conduct business."
"Well, I think that this meeting certainly falls into that category," the elder Kecleon added. "I'd been getting a lot of anxious letters from my counterparts in the other branches, and having
this around should be able to quiet them down a bit."
Walpole flipped the ledger open to no page in particular, glancing at a few different images in the book as he leafed through them. With a satisfied nod, he shut the mighty tome and slipped it into a nearby drawer.
"Eh?" Pladur wondered. "What do you mean?"
"This journal contains trade secrets that could be devastating to the Merchantry if a strong rival discovered them," Walpole explained. "Hence why we've had to move it around from time to time to keep it in safe hands."
"Huh? But just what does this journal
have that it could be so damaging?" Pat pressed.
"Our predecessors found that there were a few things that simply couldn't be found without breaching the Veil around the Cradle and going into the Wastes," Calino explained. "Why, if it weren't for what's in that journal, our outfit probably wouldn't have enough raw materials to make Poké-"
"Yes, yes, well done Calino, well done Calino!" Walpole interrupted with an exasperated sigh. "
However, this isn't the right time to be discussing our little free-trade experiment here, and I believe you had something that was meant to accompany the Taloons' Chronicle…"
Calino blanched and started to flush pale. Yes, he'd helped the Chronicle get to Tidemill safely, but it was at the expense of his notes that kept the thing readable in the first place!
The Kecleon gulped and steeled himself. Walpole would surely understand, wouldn't he?
"Erm… about that, I was thinking… maybe there didn't
need to be a transcription for the Chronicle?" Calino proposed. "After all, we've survived all this time without it!"
Walpole's extremities started to flush red as a scowl came over the chameleon's face, his eyes hardening into a piercing glare at Calino.
"Calino, we've survived all this time without it thanks to a bunch of patchwork notes various readers put together," the Branch Chief snapped. "That was the entire point why we commissioned you two years ago to put this transcription together! Where,
is it?"
"Uh… it might be in a shredded pulp with some pirates right now?" Calino sheepishly replied. "B-But that's fine, right? All part of the cost of adventure, and we were able to get the
real prize delivered safely!"
"Calino, that
cost of adventure destroyed two years of work that this organization has been counting on!" the senior Kecleon shouted. "How on earth did you even
lose it to pirates in the first place? You did your transcriptions inside a diary for crying out loud!"
"Uh… I used it as a distraction during a raid?" Calino answered, forcing an uneasy smile onto his mouth. His superior was having none of Calino's comments, as all of Walpole´s scales now flourished a red color.
"Now hold on a minute here," Beatrix protested. "
I was the one who suggested that Calino use his journal as bait!"
Walpole's scales darkened to a seething scarlet as he scowled at the Bug-Type, before turning a furious glare at Calino that practically bored through the hapless archivist.
"And you
listened to her?" Walpole demanded.
"Er... well you see-" Calino stammered, only to be cut off by the sound of a fist pounding against his desk.
"Well if you like listening to them so much," Walpole snapped. "Maybe you should ask your new friends for a ride to your new job."
"Wait,
what?!" Calino exclaimed.
"We've been looking for someone to set up a new Merchantry outpost on Tromba ever since their revolt happened," the Branch Chief said. "Since you seem to have an ear for Tromban sensibilities I'm sure you're perfect for the job."
Calino blinked as his scales turned gray with shock and stared at Walpole with open mouth. He was getting reassigned all the way to
Tromba?!
"But- but-"
"Er… so are we still getting paid?" Pladur asked. "I mean, our contract
did just say to bring the journal here…"
Walpole fumed and rooted through a drawer before digging out a pair of large pouches. The chameleon tossed them onto the table with an unceremonious thud before glaring at Beatrix and her subordinates.
"Just take it and get out," the Kecleon huffed.
The Siglo Swellow's crew, collectively feeling the sense of gloom radiating from Calino, snatched their pay from the Branch Chief's desk and made themselves scarce posthaste. Calino cast a hopeful, pleading glance at his superior, hoping for some change of heart, but all he found on the other Kecleon's ruddy-red face was the same displeased scowl he'd been wearing the entire time. Drooping with a disheartened sigh, Calino moped as he dragged himself out of the office, catching sight of his scales turning a melancholy blue as he reached out to open the door.
He stepped out into a long hallway, lined with windows giving a great view of Tidemill City's canal-lined harbor outside. Although on a good day it would be a sight for sore eyes, Calino felt no desire to tear his gaze away from the floor. A maelstrom of thought stormed in his mind as he tried to make sense of the events of the day, his world being so harshly pulled out from under his feet. Before he could fully process his despair, though, a chirping voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Hey, Calino! Aren't you coming?"
"Wha-?" For a moment, Calino had forgotten there was anyone else around. Straightening his defeated posture, if only slightly, he glanced up towards the source of the voice.
Despite their hasty egress from Walpole's office, it seemed the Siglo Swellow's crew had waited around for him in the end. Pat and Pladur headed towards the chameleon, extending a helping wing and claw towards Calino.
"You're going to be stuck on our island for a while anyways, right?" Pat asked "We'll give you a lift over."
"And look on the bright side!" Pladur offered. "The weather's balmy, the beach is not too crowded, and Bluewhorl Town's a friendly place."
The sight of the supportive trio managed to warm Calino's dour mood, his deep blue scales slowly fading back to their neutral green color. A weak smile shining through on his face, he chuckled and accepted Pladur's generous offer.
"Heh… well, I don't think I can say no to that…" Calino replied.
"Then come on!" Beatrix cried. "We'll hash out the details on the way back to the ship!"
Calino joined Pladur and his shipmates, the four slipping into a new equilibrium of playful chatter about Tromba and how Bluewhorl would soon feel like home away from home. As implausible as it would have sounded to him just yesterday, Calino could tell that in spite of the dead-end position, he would get along with Pokémon like these just fine.
Author's Notes:
-
Strandmeer Arena - Dutch: "Lagoon Arena"
-
De Kust - Dutch: "The Coast", used here as a place name.
-
Tranquilo - Spanish: "Relax" (interjection)
-
(¡¿)Qué estás haciendo?! - Spanish: "What are you doing?!"
-
Sōna no?! (そうなの?!) - Japanese: "Is that so?!" (Hepburn Romanization)
