I had thought that I’d seen my boss angry before. Things had been stressful recently, what with every ranger at outpost seven on assignment almost constantly. The sergeant, for all her caring nature, could be very severe on occasion, and her low, raspy voice sometimes carried an edge of danger that made the thought of displeasing her strongly unappealing.
As it turns out, thus far, I’d only ever seen Janine Egao mildly irritated.
The rage she wore now was something wholly different to anything I’d witnessed prior. It almost felt as if I could see it, roiling off of her in waves, snarling and snapping at the surroundings with the sort of ferocity you might see in a Pangoro matron, were her cubs to be threatened.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had eyes. Fulrich took a reflexive step back, the experienced security agent deepening his stance, and holding out a hand to calm his snarling partner.
I’d never heard a plant growl before, and technically, Sigurd the Lurantis wasn’t actually vocalizing anything, but the grinding noise her scythe-like petals made against one another was close enough to count in my mind.
The threat display must have been entirely instinctive, because she ceased when she noticed Fulrich’s outstretched hand, her head tilting in a way that made me think she was embarrassed.
Not that she should have been. The other Pokémon present hadn’t reacted any better to Janine’s appearance.
My knights were holding it together, their familiarity with the woman inuring them somewhat, but Mana and Maushold had both darted behind me, peeking out from around my shoulder and legs, respectively. Even Clover the Skiddo, who had likely known Janine for most of her life, had a minute shaking in her legs.
Rich and his Machoke were similarly affected, the pair paling. They clasped their arms to one another, a gesture that looked well-worn and familiar, and the contact seemed to calm both somewhat, though full color didn’t return to either of their faces.
And all of that, our bevy of reactions, to a woman whose anger wasn’t even pointed at us.
No, that honor was reserved for the eight men and women in black body armor across from our little group.
Their reaction was even more severe than ours, most of them releasing their partners on reflex. A bevy of bristling Pokémon emerged, grimly determined in the face of the ranger sergeant’s presence.
To their credit, all present held their ground, human and Pokémon alike. Even the ones who had held back forced their way forwards, reinforcing the front cohort, though they moved as if a buffeting wind were pushing them back.
Only their leader seemed mostly unaffected, the man a small pond of wry calm amidst a roiling sea of displeasure.
The reaction of those around me, more than anything else, crystallized a suspicion that I’d long held into a hard core of certainty. I’d seen it before with Drake, months ago, in a warehouse in Techne’s harbor. A certain feeling, a presence that couldn't be explained as anything natural.
It was her syn. That amorphous force that protects humans and Pokémon alike from harm, perversely turned into a weapon to instead cajole and suppress. It felt as if I could almost see it, whirling and writhing around her. It was a blackened, taunting thing, completely different from Drake’s. The presence he’d shown me had been fanged and dangerous, yes, but without pretense or guile. There’d been something– noble, in how straightforward it had felt. I remember being resentful at how it’d made me feel small, but that was a byproduct, not the main thrust of his intent.
Janine’s presence lacked that kindness. Where Drake sought amusement, Janine wanted only capitulation. Where he saw potential, she saw only dead ends. Lines she’d cut short herself, were it necessary.
It was a difference in situation, assuredly, but it went beyond that. It was, fundamentally, a difference in their syn, in how it felt. And more than that, I couldn’t help but think that in some way, it was a difference in who they were, as people.
I ran out of time to pursue that thought any further, unfortunately, as the sergeant finally arrived. Her implacable approach placed her in front of us, her back turned disdainfully to the black-clad men and women in the distance. At her side was Akaruko, the Ampharous. The usually-jolly Electric-type must have been clued into his partner’s displeasure, because his generally pleasant disposition was nowhere to be seen.
The kind-hearted glutton I knew had retreated, replaced by a sharp, dangerous combatant. His eyes roamed across the hilly snowfield, catching and cataloguing its various inhabitants in place of his partner, his long neck craning to suck the informational marrow out of each potential threat and danger.
A passing shadow spoke to Hayate, already in the sky once more, another watchful eye turned earthwards. His bulky form left a swiftly passing pool of darkness, his presence dwarfing even Bethanie the ticket-taker’s impressively plump Cramorant, Warkie.
Janine’s final partner was nowhere to be seen, but I had no doubt that Stella the Clefairy was also about, ready to intervene if things should not go her mistress’ way and turn the odds subtly in our favor with her strange powers.
“Private, report,” Janine’s coarse voice was loud, ringing out across the snowfield. It demanded my attention, bringing all of my wandering thoughts together to a point. Normally, I was more than comfortable thinking on one topic while speaking about something else, but there’d be no such distraction right now. I needed every scrap of focus I could muster to hold my ground against my sergeant’s dark eyes.
I knew she wasn’t mad at me, or at least, primarily at me, and I kept that certainty blaring in the forefront of my mind. It was the only thing that let me hold up under her scrutiny. “Sergeant, my deputies and I were conducting the operation to corral the Slowpoke as instructed, when these people arrived and interrupted us,” I did my best to match Janine’s volume, fighting through the mortifying voice cracks that emerged inevitably from my straining vocal chords. “They told us they were from a city-security subcontractor, and demanded that we stand down for questioning without providing any verification of their intentions or identities.”
I did my absolute best to keep my gaze steady on her eyes, though I couldn’t help but occasionally dart my own attention away. I think it made me look guilty. I certainly felt like it made me look guilty. For all that, I just couldn’t help myself. There wasn’t any way I could hold her gaze for longer than a few seconds at a time.
My only consolation was that when Fulrich was questioned next, he scarcely held up better under her consideration. At least he backed my story, faithfully agreeing with my retelling, with the added details of the leader’s name and organization. I kicked myself for forgetting those small facts, there were certainly worlds where they would have been critically important, but at least one of us had retained the information.
With Rich, Janine didn’t even bother, her eyes passing over him with barely a delay, much to the engineer’s relief.
Briefing concluded, the sergeant turned away from us, marching purposefully across the snowfield towards the eight men and women from Velvet-Touch Security.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Fulrich letting out a sigh of relief. “So that’s your boss? Glad she’s on our side, huh?” he asked me, his attitude oddly more casual than I’d seen thus far.
“No kidding,” I muttered, “I thought I'd seen her mad before, but it wasn’t anything like this.” I took a couple of steadying breaths.
“You held up well kid, even if you know her,” the security officer let out a rueful chuckle. “Hell, I’m pretty sure some of the operators over there are one wrong turn away from keeling over.” He motioned demonstrably at the security subcontractors, who were indeed looking rather strained, even from the distance we were standing at.
“Yeah, but she’s pointing it at them, I think,” I whispered back. “We’re just bystanders, mostly, I bet it feels completely different for them.”
There was something in Fulrich’s eye, an expression that I wasn’t familiar enough with the man to place. “You can pick up on that, huh?” He asked, his whispered voice even quieter.
Any reply I might have offered was drowned out by Janine’s raspy tones, her voice somehow carrying even as we faced away from her. “Velvet-Touch Security? My name is Janine Egao, sergeant of ranger outpost seven. You all are quite a ways out from city limits.”
Her words were polite, but they carried with them an undeniable air of menace. The promise that if something wasn’t offered to placate their owner, they’d be the last of anything polite offered here today.
Which made it all the more annoyingly impressive that the leader of the group, Bolton Jones- if he was telling the truth- answered with a measured air of casual nonchalance. “Technically, the rail and the train are city property, even if they aren’t on city land. We were hired to ensure that no harm comes to said property, and to ensure that any threats that might cause such harm are dealt with– appropriately.”
The words had a rehearsed, smarmy property to them. Something about them made me feel slimy, just hearing them spoken aloud. It’s not like there was anything inherently wrong with what he’d said, but the amount of leeway present in the statement felt disingenuous. Alarmingly so. What counted as a threat, exactly. And what were these men and women supposed to do if they ran into one?
Janine must have been thinking along the same lines, considering her next words. “Your orders sound rather vague to me. Hardly appropriate rules of engagement for an organization representing city-security.”
Her words were cutting, like a knife, but the smooth-talking security operator parried them adroitly. “We were unfortunately lacking intelligence, told only that a commuter train line was running late without explanation. A breakdown of communication, surely. If the issue at hand had been brought to our attention earlier, we could have prepared far more adequately to address it.”
“And you didn’t think to reach out to the rail authority to confirm the situation?” Janine ground out, her acerbic tone burning across the snowfield.
“We wished to act in all haste, to ensure that if there was an emergency at hand, we could deal with it as quickly as possible. Lives could be on the line, after all.”
The standoff continued for a few moments longer, before Janine leaned back a bit, and the pressure on all of us lightened minutely. “Well as you can see, the commuter rail was delayed by wild Pokémon activity, which is no concern of city-security’s. If you’d like, feel free to investigate the area and ensure that no humans have done any wrongdoing. I just ask that you refrain from bothering my personnel until they’ve completed their mission, and that you are civil when questioning them. Are we clear?”
“As crystal ma’am,” Jones replied with an odd expression, something caught between a grimace and a grin.
The conversation apparently concluded, the two leaders went their separate ways, Jones approaching his group even as Janine trudged her way back through the snow towards us. The tension wasn’t wholly gone, but it was beginning to drain from the environment, freeing us from its inky grasp.
Which left us with just one problem. While we’d been held down by the pressure, the Slowpoke felt no such need to sit and wait.
-
It really was impressive. Somehow, the remaining nine Slowpoke had been fully capable of ignoring the confrontation brewing before them. Even worse, they’d been equally capable of wandering away during it.
It took us another half-hour to round them up, more time than it took us previously to deal with more than double their number. The last Slowpoke was the worst. A full-fifteen minutes had to be devoted to finding them before Warkie croaked out a warbling squawk, alerting us to their location. The poor Water-type had somehow gotten themself buried in the snow upside down, the only evidence of their presence a pair of faintly waving, pink forelimbs.
After exhuming the poor soul and sending them on their way to the station, we reconvened by the engine, where we made a final count to make sure we’d gotten them all. Fourteen for me, seven for Fulrich, and five each for Rich and Edmund made up the entire herd of thirty-one that we’d counted initially.
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Warkie and Hayate hadn’t spotted any other stray Slowpoke, and the number of balls missing matched perfectly with the number of Pokémon we’d counted, so it was time to get the commuter line moving again.
After a bit of negotiation, the security subcontractors agreed to take our statement aboard the train, so that the poor folks aboard it wouldn’t be delayed any longer.
I’d never given a witness statement to city-security before. I wasn’t sure I could say I had now, but it certainly felt like it.
It wasn’t exactly an interrogation. I think Janine’s presence precluded anything that aggressive. It was still exhausting though, and after it was done, I wanted nothing more than to go home and take a long, long nap.
Unfortunately, I had one more debrief to go through, and this one I found far more intimidating.
As the intervening hours had passed, my direct superior had slowly lost her air of cold intimidation. Instead she looked– tired. Aged even, in a way that I found faintly alarming. I had known that Janine was no spring Torchic, but suddenly those years seemed all the more real, her Kantonian features alighting with subtle lines and wrinkles I’d never really paid much mind to before.
Whatever Janine had been doing with her syn, it’d tired her out, and I wasn’t so sure she’d been in top condition even before that confrontation. Of course, neither of our states of exhaustion meant that I was off the hook.
Freed from the time constraints of the earlier situation, I was able to explain events much more in-depth, conveying every detail I could remember, and trying to explain my thought process as much as I could as I narrated the story.
Suddenly, Alyssa’s accusations about my storytelling capability seemed like a much more poignant criticism. I’d never thought of the ability to debrief well as a laudable trait, but as I winced and cringed my way through my meandering remembrances, I realized that there was indeed something valuable in the ability to convey what you remembered in a concise and clear way.
After my tale was told, I sat back, sipping water from my canteen to refresh my worried throat. Distantly, in the background, I heard my partners offering their own versions of events, going through their own debriefing with Bakiru and Janine’s partners.
Liken was with us as well, and he offered his own experiences and insights after I’d shared mine. He was more present and awake then I could ever recall him being with Bakiru's assistance. He had a degree of focus and intention that the teenage dispatcher generally lacked. I don’t think that had anything to do with his condition, I’m pretty sure he was just a ‘chill dude.’ That made the realization that he’d been genuinely worried about me all the more heartening. And all the more alarming.
If Liken was this concerned, what was Janine feeling? Protective was the first adjective that came to mind when I thought about the ranger sergeant, and I had a sinking feeling that I might be stuck in the outpost for the next twelve months at least.
After we’d both provided our input, Janine took a few moments, finalizing some notes she was taking in a crimson logbook. I had no doubt that Bakiru would be typing this up later, digitizing our stories for whenever they might be needed again.
For now though, our meeting wasn’t over. Janine closed the logbook with a weary sigh, and massaged her temples. “Alright, first things first, I’m not mad at either of you. I’m frustrated with the situation you found yourselves in, but you both handled things well.”
“What situation were we in exactly?” Liken asked before I could. “Were those dudes actually from city-security? Because they were acting hella skeevy, if you ask me.”
"It's– complicated," the ranger sergeant replied, her voice tired. "Short answer, yes, they work for city-security. Long answer is– very long, and I don't want to have to explain it more than once. I was hoping I wouldn't have to explain it at all, but if this is how they're acting, I'm going to need to brief the whole squad. I know it's already late, but can you two wait here for another hour or so for everyone else to get back?"
As much as it pained me to do so, I nodded. I had to know what was going on.
Apparently, Liken was similarly curious, because he agreed as well.
-
An hour of polite but distant conversation with the dispatcher later, we both joined the rest of outpost seven's garrison in one of the building's conference rooms. Even Philip joined us, though the man looked as wiped out as I felt from his surgery earlier in the day.
The room ended up full to bursting with people, both human and Pokémon. Janine stood at the head of the table, a pointer in her hand to assist in her presentation. Stella the Clerfairy sat atop her shoulder, while Bakiru the Hypno ran the slides from a PC station near the door. Wilson, Philip, Donna, Mark, Liken, and I each had a seat, leaving two at the table open for my knights and Wilson’s Xatu. Grinder the Ferrothorn lurked in the back of the room, while Pauline the Gogoat rested on her haunches near the front. Icebox wasn’t present, the chill Arctibax currently asleep in his ball after his and Mark’s mission today.
The murmured conversation and quiet Pokémon calls slowed, and fell silent as the lights dimmed, and the projector spun to life.
“Thank you all for joining us tonight,” Janine started, “I know you’re all busy, and want to get home, but there have been some important developments in Techne’s security policies that you all need to be made aware of.”
“What’ve the purple-bellies got to do with us?” the question came from Philip, and was accompanied by a disdainful snort. The invective he’d used was a reference to city-security’s purple uniforms, in conjunction with the purple-undersides of the notoriously cowardly Wimpod.
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard city-security described as such, but never with so much heat before. It wasn’t just a lack of respect, Philip had active contempt for the policing organization.
“I was just getting to that,” Janine replied with an acerbic tone, “but the short answer is, more than they’ve ever had before, especially seeing as how they almost got into a confrontation with our youngest comrade today.” That got Philip to sit up and take notice. Donna, Mark, and Wilson all turned to look at me as well, their partners following suit a moment later.
I tried my hardest not to wilt under the attention, enduring until a cough from Janine brought everyone’s eyes back to the projected screen.
“A recently passed emergency bill put forward by some highly influential corporations has granted city-security the ability to hire subcontractors to supplement their forces. The main motivation for this change in policy is the growing unrest and danger from our still uncaught serial killer, though they’ve cited other reasons and motivations as well,” Janine gestured, and Bakiru flicked the slides again, showing a map of Techne, with a bunch of red X’s scattered across it. Another click, and several graphs appeared, showing what was apparently an uptick in crime plotted across time.
“The solution they’ve hit on is not ideal, to my mind. I assume at least one of you recognizes some of the organizations shown here?” The presentation flipped to the next slide, showing a bunch different logos, one of which included a name I recognized. A maroon hand, squeezed into a fist, and bracketed by the words, ‘Velvet-Touch.’
“Fuck, those are military contractors,” Philip growled, his expression severe.
“Along with some private security firms and city militia groups, yes,” Janine replied with a similar look on her face. “Apparently, Techne’s government believes that these organizations can be trusted in emergency situations to help cover for city-security’s persistent deficiency in manpower.”
“So the military are purple-bellies now? That can’t be right. People should be losing their shit over this, and I haven’t heard anything about it,” Philip protested, his mien painted in a pallid shade of concern.
“Um, we don’t have a military though, right?” I interjected, looking around the room, confused. Liken, Donna, and Wilson all seemed similarly befuddled, so I felt emboldened to keep going. “I mean, why would we? There hasn’t been a war in forty-years. The militia and security should be more than enough.”
“Wrong,” Janine shook her head with a dark expression. “Ferrum has fought in plenty of conflicts since the Great War. Hell, it’s currently involved in two right at this very moment.”
I blinked as my entire worldview lurched. There’d been no hesitation in Janine, no evidence of subterfuge or deceit. Just a pure expression of fact.
“No, that can’t be right,” Donna shook her head, her face mirroring mine. “That sort of thing would show up on the news. People would talk about it. You can’t hide a war.”
Janine grimaced. “You certainly can. You just call it something else. In Orre, it’s a gang crisis, and in Sinnoh’s seas, it’s pirate activity. And behind those actions? Private companies protecting their vested interests. Sure, Ferrum as a government hasn’t waged war in years, because it doesn’t need to, when it has plenty of companies happy to do so on its behalf.”
“And now those companies are going to be operating on our domestic soil,” Philip growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"Right," Janine nodded. "Currently, there's a lot of controls on their activity, which is probably why you haven't heard about it yet, Philip. For the immediate future, they'll be on their best behavior. At the same time though, they're all scrambling, trying to do anything they can do to justify their presence on the mainland. They've got their foot in the door, and now they're trying to wedge it open fully."
"Is that why those soldiers tried to take over earlier?" I asked, my voice still hoarse from all the talking I'd done throughout the day. "They wanted credit for resolving the emergency?"
“In all likelihood,” Janine nodded. “Like Fe said, she was approached today by eight operators from one of these organizations while out on assignment.” The presentation continued, showing a slide fully dedicated to Velvet-Touch. It looked like an advertisement taken directly from television, except some strange parody thereof, where the products you were purchasing were professional mercenaries.
“Best case, they wanted what Fe suggested. Worst-case, they were there to discredit us and maybe harm the Pokémon involved with the situation,” Janine outlined my mission from today, filling the rest of the group in on the situation’s background.
By the time she was done, the whole conference room was silent. Expressions ranged from mildly concerned to downright thunderous.
“Um, why would they have it out for us in particular?” I asked, trying to restart the conversation.
“Because if they can make us look bad, suddenly, they look more appealing as an alternative. I’d bet the bastards are doing the same and worse to city-security, when they’ve got a chance.” The answer didn’t come from Janine, Philip instead speaking in her place. “Their whole presence on the mainland only checks out for as long as we can’t get things ‘under control.’ If everything is okay, suddenly you don’t need the military pretending to be purple-bellies anymore.”
That made a disturbing amount of sense, and judging by the look on Janine’s face, she’d drawn the same conclusion.
“Unfortunately for us, these people aren’t going away anytime soon. The emergency bill gives them at least a season as a trial period, with the possibility written in for extensions. I was hoping that we wouldn’t need to deal with these idiots yet, but the bill passed literally two days ago, and they’re already throwing their weight around. Clearly, they were ready, which means we’ll need to be too. I’ve already kicked this way up the chain, and command isn’t slacking off for once. There’s going to be a conference call two days from now outlining our strategy for handling this situation going forward. So go home, get some rest, take tomorrow off unless you’re on call. Missions are suspended except in case of emergency until we’re clear on our path going forwards. Everyone understand?”
Unhappy nods and muttered acceptances were our response. Clearly, none of us were happy with the situation, but it wasn’t like there was a lot we could do about it.
“Alright then, you’re dismissed. Get out of here,” Janine pointed to the door, and we all filed out, recalling our partners and making our way towards the lobby. Wilson and Mark broke off, apparently on call for the night, while the rest of us kept going, heading out into the darkness towards the bus stop.
“Are you alright Fe?” Donna asked me while we waited for the bus to arrive. “Those jerks didn’t give you too much trouble?”
“Things ended up fine, but I’m not sure how it would have gone if Janine didn’t show up,” I admitted. “I guess they thought they could bulldoze me since I was alone. They practically threatened to arrest me, but I think they were just trying to scare me off so they could take over the scene.”
“Bastards,” Donna growled. “Shitty way to learn that we’ve got soldiers, huh?” She asked, her voice dark. “I don’t know about you, but first thing I do when I get home is dig into these gangs and pirates in Orre and Sinnoh.”
“You don’t trust Janine?” I asked, a little bit surprised by the show of doubt.
Donna shrugged. “I do, but people can wholeheartedly believe in something that’s wrong. You should always try to form your own beliefs instead of just accepting someone else’s, even if you trust them implicitly.”
That lesson was familiar, almost identical to what Drake had told me, months ago. “Find your own answers, right?”
“Exactly,” the green-haired ranger snapped her finger and pointed at me with a grin. “You get it. Listen to others, and take their perspectives into account, but don’t let them dictate your beliefs.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not that malleable,” I told her.
-
It was only on the way home, while riding the bus, that something occurred to me.
Janine had arrived on the scene to help me quickly. Too quickly. Barely five minutes since I’d told her something was wrong, probably less, even if she’d departed at quite literally the first sign of trouble.
Hayate the Pidgeot was fast. Demonstrably faster than the speed of sound, but that didn’t account for any time taken to finish whatever she was doing in the first place, getting prepped for takeoff, ascending to an altitude where you can fly safely at that speed, and slowing for a safe (relatively) landing.
Either the sergeant had been pretty close by, and ready to drop everything she was doing to come to my aid, or she’d already been in the air, and could have made that sort of time even at quite the distance. The realization was sobering. The only reason Janine had signed off on my mission in the first place was because she knew she could be there almost instantly in case something went wrong.
And worst of all, she'd been right. The situation had gone sideways. Something I couldn't handle by myself had shown up. Sure, you could say the circumstances were extenuating, but that didn't do much to wash the prickly sense of someone coddling me off my skin.
How long until my partners and I were independent? Until we didn’t have others peering over our shoulders, every step of the way? How long until I was grown up? I knew that the adults in my life wanted me to feel safe, but that’s not how their actions made me feel at all. They made me feel small.
