System:Reboot (PMD) [T]

A/N - Thanks for the feedback! I'm stoked you're giving this story another go! =D




System Ground looked like a toy town from Wildcard Gamma’s exit hatch. Macro held on to one of the neon rails as he watched Wave City slowly move beneath them. From this height he could clearly make out the froth of the ocean as it lapped at the docks and cliff faces. Windmills turned in the breeze miles out from the coast, and in the center of Wave City blinked the data antennae, flashing red and green and red and green as it received and sent out its signal across the whole of System.



“You ready?” Matrix’s voice rang loud and clear in his ear piece.



“Ready when you are,” Macro replied.



“All right. Then I’m gonna slow down enough for you to jump. I’ll have to keep the ship moving though, otherwise they might open fire at us.”



“Roger.”



“Open fire, eh?” Anchor clutched tightly to his own rail, causing the spikes on his gauntlets to poke out. “Bring it on. We’ll see who’s left laughin’.”



Macro chuckled drily and readjusted his goggles over his eyes.



The ground slowed and Macro waited a few moments until he spotted a wide enough space to drop into. It wasn’t impossible to see in the dark. Lights dotted the city, casting a dramatic array of shadows across the artificial grass. When the City Square appeared beneath them, Macro dropped. Wind whisked past his ears and whipped his scarf up around his face, drowning out the repetitive ‘chink’ as each rail flashed into place above them.



Within seconds, his feet were on solid ground. Anchor dropped down beside him into a crouch and the pair of them looked up as the neon ladder flashed back up to the hatch.



The granbull let out a long whistle as he diverted his attention to the tall, white and platinum buildings around them.



“Been a while since I’ve seen a city this clean,” he said.



Macro made a grunt of agreement. “I still wouldn’t drink the ocean water, though.”



He quickly checked the map on his optical display and motioned for Anchor to follow him. The narrow streets were lifeless save for the bright, animated billboards that filled huge sections of wall on every building they passed. Each one was an advertisement for bands, clubs, drinks and the latest games. Many of them came with audio - a catchy, electronic tune or a catch-phrase to further drum the advert home.



What made Wave City radically different from the poorer, toxic towns of System Ground wasn’t just the clean and tidy buildings and artificial grass. It was the lack of toxins in the air. Standing like silent sentries between the street lights were artificial trees. Structures of iron with flat, metal plates to serve as leaves. Operated solely on solar power, they drew in the contaminated air and blasted it back out again through filters. A hidden mechanism stored up electricity to keep them running during the night and overcast days, but the idea of solar powered air filters had left pokemon feeling uncertain about the trees’ efficiency. Despite the skepticism, they’d certainly held up for the past century or two. The air was breathable and as such allowed berry plants to be grown, but they were never as healthy as those grown in System Sky.



“Here it is.” Macro stopped beside a large factory sporting a billboard for the next Assassin Strike VR game.



The building looked no more out of place than the school or apartment blocks. The only difference was the water wheel turning slowly as water was gathered from the ocean and cascaded down on top of it from a neatly hidden pipe. Situated by the docs, the factory generated all the power it needed from the ocean. The clean energy promotion in Wave City went strongly in its favour to clean up the air, but not every city was so inclined to make that step. In most cases it was too late, anyway. Proxy alone would take many years to clean up.



The water wheel creaked and groaned as it rotated, and water splashed back down from it, forcing it under the shallow tide.



“I doubt this factory is empty,” Macro said quietly. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have the wheel running.”



“Night staff?” Anchor grunted.



Macro nodded and moved slowly around the factory’s perimeter. Long windows protected by heavy iron bars rose up for three floors and not one of them appeared to have a light on. If there were any night staff, then they were probably just guards sat in a security room somewhere. That meant they probably knew he was there, but he couldn’t see a security camera anywhere.



He paused and craned his neck up towards the roof. No camera. At least not a visible one. A high profile place like a weapons factory would be using a stealth. One that recorded not only video but audio as well. Full colour, high definition…



He rejoined Anchor from the other side and stared up at the iron doors. He wanted to say it wouldn’t be easy, but once they were inside, it would be fun and games. Grab the loot, foil the guards and run. It’s not as if they didn’t know him. Wildcard Gamma and its captain were known everywhere. He could already picture the guards reaching for their lasers to fend them off, maybe even calculating the bounty they’d receive for turning him in to the authorities.



A smirk spread across his muzzle and he chuckled. He wasn’t about to give them that pleasure.



“All right.” He reached into his pouch and pulled out a long, black metal needle. “Let’s get this over with.”



“Front entrance, eh?” Anchor nodded as he watched the mawile jiggle the needle in the lock. “I like it.”



“Well, the windows are all barred up and I have no patience to saw through them.” The lock snapped and he stuffed the needle back into his pouch. “Would make way too much noise anyway.”



With a hefty kick, the door swung inwards and Macro reached for his laser. They were immediately met by three large pokemon rushing straight at them. The first was a machoke followed closely by a swampert. Macro let out a small laugh as he readied his laser and ducked beneath the machoke’s flailing fist. He brought his horn up beneath the fighting pokemon’s chin where it struck him with a sick crack and sent him soaring over his head. He set his laser to grass and fired at the swampert, blasting him backwards into the wall where he lay, dazed.



Macro turned back to Anchor who was stood over the machoke and a floatzel. Both were sparking dangerously, as were the gauntlets on his fists. He looked back up at Macro and nodded, stepping over the two fallen guards.



“I doubt that’s all of them,” said Macro. “Be on the look out.”



He flashed his optical display on and brought up a map of the interior, conveniently provided by Matrix. Three floors. The first was mostly factory and staff facilities. The second floor was all factory and the third and final, admin and storage. Macro tutted loudly and scouted out the nearest elevator.



“We need to go up to the top,” he said.



“Seriously?” Anchor called the elevator. Twice. Three times. “Not workin’.”



Macro tutted again and made for the stairs. Each one almost came up to his chin. A silent insult hidden away under the stature of the factory’s chosen employee criteria. He scrambled over each one as Anchor plodded effortlessly up them beside him. After the first half-flight, the mawile was practically gasping for breath. He flinched as a loud siren blared from a speaker above his head, followed by an ear-splitting ring that competed with the siren and almost shook the very foundations.



“Come on, Cap’n.” Anchor sighed and shook his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, now.”



The granbull stooped and picked him up, hoisting him onto his shoulder. Macro bit back a snide remark and resigned himself to being lugged up the next flight and a half. The third floor sported a set of double doors with an alarm bar across them. It was kind of redundant with the noise the building was already making.



Anchor set Macro back down and flexed his knuckles, pushing the lethal spikes out from his gauntlets. Macro quickly brushed himself down and readied his laser. There was someone on the other side of those doors, he could smell it.



The granbull smashed the door open, adding to the crescendo of alarms as the bar shattered beneath his fists. Two lombre leapt out from the splintered wood and landed between them, each of them raising their claws as they braced themselves to attack. During a time where the fire, grass and water type pokemon were constantly at each other’s necks, lombre had a hard time fitting in, being forced to choose between grass or water as their primary element. These two had decided to blend in with the water types of Wave City as a pair of limber grass/water guards for the very factory Macro and his team planned to raid. How convenient.



“Great,” Macro snarled. “My weapon can’t do nothin’ to these two.”



“Snap,” said Anchor as he flexed his gauntlets. “Gonna have to use force, Cap’n.”



Macro span, swinging his horn at the nearest one. The lombre leapt into the air and kicked himself back from the ceiling. The lily pad on his head lit up with a purple light and he spiraled back down towards Macro for a nasty zen headbutt.



The mawile narrowly dodged it and caught him in the back with his horn, sending the lombre rolling down the stairs. He turned to grab the other lombre in his jaws but a torrent of steaming water shot up the stairs and nipped his foot and fur.



“Yowch!” He leapt backwards, swatting at his singed toes to remove the burning water.



The lombre zipped in front of him, cutting him off from the twin as it backed Anchor into a corner. The granbull’s sparking gauntlets collided with his assailant’s jaw but it only caused the grass/water pokemon to frown and nut him with a zen headbutt. Anchor grunted and slumped to the floor. Now free from the gauntlet-wielding granbull, the lombre rounded on Macro.



“Great,” said Macro. “Got you both now, have I?”



He felt the wall against his horn and he faltered as both leering lombre advanced towards him. He raised his gun, turning the dial from grass to water then to ground. The only three in his arsenal. He’d never considered he might need a flying laser before. He filed a mental note to upgrade just before the gun was violently swatted from his paws. It clattered to the floor, releasing its catch and sending a shockwave into the ceiling. Plaster tore free and rained down upon them, crashing onto the head of the closest lombre. Macro coughed as the dust filled his throat and he placed a paw over his muzzle, raising the other to shield his head from the debris.



The remaining lombre was lifted from his vision and tossed aside like a pokedoll. Anchor’s face loomed over him, sporting a black eye and a crooked tooth. He thrust Macro’s laser back into his paws.



“We weren’t meant to bring the whole place down!” He grabbed Macro’s arm and dragged him through the splintered doors.



“I’m not the one who dropped it!” Macro retorted.



“But you took the flippin’ safety off though, right?”



“I was trying to defend myself!”



The granbull skidded to a halt half way down the corridor and eyed a heavy, cast-iron door. “Think this is it.”



It wasn’t the only room in the corridor. It had about five or six before it ended at another set of double doors that led to some unseen, hidden location Macro couldn’t be bothered fussing over.



Now well and truly fed up, he aimed his ground laser at the heavy door. If it worked on steel type pokemon, it would have no problem against an iron door. His suspicions were rewarded as the laser tore a hefty hole through the structure, shredding the iron into jagged points that curled inwards around a perfectly formed circle hole.



Beyond it lay stacks of wooden boxes, each one named with the component they contained in nice, red letters.



Macro grinned from ear to ear. “Bingo!”



He leapt through the hole and scurried over to the crates, eying up their contents. Barrels, fibre amplifiers, filters, lasers of varying type concentrations. Ice types wanted enough to counter their many weaknesses. That meant they wanted water, ground, fire, psychic and flying lasers. He pulled a thick, leather bag from his pouch and began throwing them in by the pawful. Anchor stood by the door, waiting as the mawile scurried about in the storage room adding filters, barrels and other bits and pieces to his bag. It wasn’t long until he needed to fill a second bag which Anchor threw at him in exchange for the first.



Once both were loaded up, they eyed the doors to the stairs warily. That ceiling had finished caving in, but it had left quite the obstacle course. The alarms were still blaring away and voices could be heard over them from either side as what he could only describe as an army clambered over the rubble on the stairs.



“Drat,” Anchor muttered. “Didn’t hear them coming over all this kerfuffle.”



“Well we’ve got what we need,” said Macro. “Let’s head to the roof and call Matrix.”



Easier said than done when the main stairs were out of action. He quickly checked the map and confirmed the double doors behind them led to the emergency exit. A narrow flight of stairs running down to the back door and up to the roof.



He nodded to Anchor, tossed the bag over his shoulder and bolted for the emergency exit. The granbull fell in step behind him, effortlessly carrying the second bag. The stairs were quickly flooding with various water type pokemon led by a blastoise. The hulking tortoise sent two jets of water at them from the cannons protruding from his shell. Macro let out a squeak as he dodged between them and sped for the stairs heading up. A cracking sound followed by a grunt told him Anchor had given the blastoise a nasty crack before making a bid for freedom.



“Ready your gun, Cap’n!”



The granbull relieved him of his bag and hoisted him onto his shoulder before leaping up the stairs two at a time. Having no free arms to message Wildcard Gamma, he instead barked into his wrist computer. Hopefully the chaos wouldn’t drown it all out and leave them stranded.



Macro swiveled so he was facing the army and fired off grass lasers at their feet. Not striking to stun or to kill. Just to hold back. The blastoise leered up at them from the head of his water army, his left eye squinting as his cheek swelled in a ruby red bruise. Wartortle, marshstomp and prinplup gathered behind him and the blastoise flashed his sharp teeth in a snarl.



“Follow them!” he roared.



The smaller pokemon raced over the stairs but one or two were caught in Macro’s firing line and sent rolling backwards down the narrow stairwell.



Anchor fired his fists at the lone door atop the stairs, shattering the alarm bar. It was useless. There was enough noise going on in the factory as it was.



Macro dropped from his shoulder and skittered across the roof, searching the dark sky for any sign of his ship.



“Try again!” he told Anchor.



Alarms still blared from the building, filling the entire city. Below them, pokemon had gathered in the streets to watch the spectacle, and the ocean behind them was filled with tiny lights from chinchou and lanturn. That ruled out escaping into the water.



The army flooded out onto the roof, followed closely by the blastoise captain. The hulking tortoise leered at them and aimed his water cannons.



“You’re cornered,” he snarled. “Give it up, Hunter, and drop those stolen weapons.”



Macro snorted and raised his paws. “I ain’t holdin’ them.”



The blastoise’s lips curled back from his teeth. “Is this some kind of joke to you?!”



“A joke?” Macro laughed. “What do you take me for? Some performing mankey? This is simply a job, pal.”



“It’s theft!” The blastoise shook his head but his snarl never fell. “You’re wanted all across System, Hunter, now turn yourself in or we’ll have to take you by force! And I mean by force.”



The water army braced themselves behind him, several of them moving in to the blastoise’s flanks.



“Oh, you can try,” said Macro. “You always try, but you never catch me.”



A heavy shadow fell over the building and all eyes looked up at the large belly of the schooling wishiwashi ship. Neon bars flew down in the pink light ladder right above Anchor’s head. The blastoise roared and fired his hydro cannons at the two pokemon. Anchor leapt for the ladder, taking hold of one of the higher bars and beginning is ascent towards the ship. Macro dodged the water and ran backwards, throwing himself over the edge of the building with a maniacal laugh.



“Whoa whoa!” Anchor barked. “Reverse!”



The ladder shot down from the ship in a repeated flash of pink, competing with the yellow flash from the ocean as the water dwellers prepared their electrical attacks. The granbull’s gauntleted paw flailed feebly until the ladder was close enough to Macro for him to grab the bottom rung. It immediately began to ascend back up and Anchor let out a long sigh.



“You moron!” he roared. “What do you think you’re playin’ at?!”



Macro was still laughing as he looked back out at the factory. The ocean below was still flickering yellow as static electricity bounced across it amongst the chinchou and lanturns’ lights. Many more were still gathering, but it was too little too late. Try as they may, the water army’s attacks fell short of the ladder, carrying the electricity from the ocean only to have it fizzle out mere feet away from their targets. Each torrent lit up with a rhythmic red as the alarm light blared from the factory’s roof. Red had always meant danger, and they’d narrowly escaped it. It was one of the closest calls he’d ever had and his heart was racing.



He ran a paw over the base of his horn and shook his head, his body still shaking with laughter. When they were safely inside the hatch he propped himself up against the wall as he tried to steady his breathing.



Anchor stared down at him and dropped the bags onto the floor.



“Anyone would think that blastoise were right,” he said. “That this is some kind of joke to you.”



Macro took a couple of deep breaths and looked out through the hatch window. Wave City rapidly shrank beneath them as the ship re-entered System Sky.



“You taunted him, Macro.” Anchor’s reflection folded his arms. “You always taunt them then you go and do something stupid! He’s right, ain’t he? It’s just a massive joke!”



“The only joke is this pathetic world and its ruler.” Macro turned from the window and waved a paw behind him. “Grab those bags, Anchor. We’ve got a job to finish.”

"Cap'n! Cap'n!"



Macro's eyes fluttered open and he pushed himself up, letting the light blankets fall off him onto his knees. Anchor stood in his bedroom doorway, scratching absently behind his left ear.



"What is it?" the mawile asked as he rubbed a paw over his eyes.



"I'm sorry to wake you," Anchor said. "But Matrix says we're being followed."



If Macro wasn't awake before, he was now. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and slipped to the floor, grabbing his goggles off his night stand.



"What do you mean followed?" he scoffed as he marched from his room.



"Navigation system's picking up on another ship," said Anchor. "It's blinkin' away like no one's business. He said it's been like that since shortly after we left Pulse City."



"So it's another pirate?"



"Either that or someone lurking around, waiting to tag onto a familiar ship. I mean, the price on your head is hardly small, Cap'n."



Macro snorted and marched down the corridor towards the cockpit. Cookie's round face peered at them from the kitchen as he licked berry sauce off his ladle.



The cockpit was filled with beeping. Matrix shot them a glance from his spot at the navigation desk and watched Macro as he fell into his usual seat at the front.



"What's going on, Matrix?" he asked. "Anchor says we're being followed?"



"'Stalked' would be the better term," the ribombee explained. "I tried to lose them by taking a huge detour towards Cyan City, but they followed us the entire way. They even waited when I pulled over for a few minutes, drifting around absently. I thought they were going to land in Cyan, but after I set off, they tailed after us again."



He pointed at the flashing red dot on the screen. Just a dot. No description of the ship, no indication of its size. Nothing to say if it was government, rogue, or space pirate. It could be anyone. For any reason.



"Is it the same ship?" Macro asked. "Are you sure of that?"



"Who else could it be?" Matrix shrugged. "Why would two different ships follow us so closely?"



"Tag team?" Anchor suggested.



"That makes it the same pokemon, technically," said Matrix. "The fact is, we're being followed. And we're not even at Boolean City yet. What do you suggest we do?"



Macro stared at the navigation screen and pursed his lips together. They had means in place for times like this, but they used a lot of fuel and there was no saying they'd have enough to get back to Pulse City for a top up after their visit to the frozen floating city.



"We need a plan A and a plan B." He turned in his seat to face the window. "Speed up and try to lose it. Failing that, throw up the cloak."



"The cloak won't take us off their radar," Matrix explained.



"No, but they won't be able to see us," said Macro. "And there's no saying they even have a radar, especially with how closely they're following."



"Fair point." Matrix leant his head on his paw and sighed. "Let's just hope you're right."



"What about plan C?" Anchor asked as he pushed the accelerator stick forwards slowly.



"We don't use plan C unless they start to fire," said Macro. "It'll burn through fuel like fire through an abomasnow."



Anchor laughed and struck his paw on the dashboard.



Wildcard Gamma sped forwards, the lights from the passing cities streaking by beside them. Macro craned his neck around to see the navigation display. The red, blinking dot fell further and further back. But then… it sped up itself. Tailing them like a little hatchling.



He grit his teeth together and tutted.



"Plan B?" Anchor asked.



"No, not yet. It uses too much fuel," said Macro. "Just keep going."



The incessant beeping filled their ears as all eyes remained on either the lights streaming by or the navigation display. That blinking, red dot tailed after them at a steady pace, matching their speed perfectly. It didn't fall behind or draw closer. If Macro hadn't been so sure it was a deliberate attempt to follow them from Matrix's description, he'd have thought they'd accidentally towed another ship behind them.



"Hang on." Anchor grabbed the steering stick in his right paw and pulled it towards him. "I've got a plan."



The ship moved upwards, pushing Macro back into his seat and causing a little yelp from Matrix as he slipped from his chair.



"What are you doing?" Macro squeaked.



"Driving through a trash belt," explained the granbull. "See how much they like that."



"Well, I don't like it! You'll get my ship dirty!"



"I'll be careful. Anyway, it's only a bit of old paper and food waste."



"And sewage!" said Macro. "Don't forget sewage!"



As the ship leveled out, a stream of trash filled the world outside. Metal objects, fluttering sheets of old paper and indescribable sludge spread out like a hideous river. Macro's nose crinkled at the sheer thought of the smell and he considered grabbing his mask. No sooner had they seen it, it filled the window. Paper clung to the glass and blew off again, leaving behind sticky marks that pushed bile up into the mawile's throat.



Anchor grunted and cast him a sideways glance. "Sorry, Cap'n."



Macro threw a paw over his face and slumped back into his seat with a groan.



"I think it's working," said Matrix. "They're hesitating."



Macro spread his claws to see the blinking dot hovering further behind them. It arced to the side, edging towards the outer circumference of the radar.



"It looks like we're losing them," Matrix said.



"Anchor?" Macro turned to face the dog pokemon. "How big is this trash belt?"



"Miles," he replied.



"Then if they try to go around it, we'll have lost them." Macro grinned and rammed his fists onto the dashboard. "Great plan! You're a genius, Anchor!"



The granbull chuckled and shook his head. "All in a day's work, Cap'n."



He pushed the accelerator forwards again and the ship lurched ahead, gradually picking up speed until the trash belt was nothing but an unpleasant memory and an unsightly smear on the windscreen.





A vast, frozen landscape spread out before them, freezing Macro's feet to the bone. He hugged his scarf around himself and looked up at the tall, silvery buildings. Windmills turned slowly high above them, caught in the brisk breeze. Their lights lit up the darkening sky like silver and yellow stars.



"Any idea where this Cipher Frostwall is?" His breath misted in the air and he rubbed his paws over his arms.



Anchor punched a stubby finger over his wrist computer, grunting with frustration at its unresponsiveness.



"Not far," he finally answered. "Follow this road round and it's down a narrow alley just off it. We've not landed too far away, thankfully."



"Good. Because I'm turning into an icicle."



Anchor grunted again and crossed his arms over his chest as he fell into pace beside the mawile.



"I thought you resisted ice attacks," he said.



"I do," said Macro. "But I think as little of winter as a hibernating ursaring."



"Then I guess you won't be vacationing here any time soon then?"



Macro shuddered as the wind bit through his fur and he trudged on through the frozen wasteland. The granbull's feet crunched over the snow effortlessly, leaving deep, clawed paw prints beside the deep crevice Macro was leaving as he forced his way through. It melted against his fur, soaking through to his legs until they began to feel numb, but he resisted the urge to ask the much taller pokemon to carry him on his shoulder.



The road continued on past various shops, many of which were now closed. The only one open was a butchers displaying the poor, skinless bodies of various marine pokemon, each one sporting a hefty price tag. The smell turned Macro's stomach and he dug his claws into his arms as he forced himself past it.



A narrow alley forked off to their left, surrounded by piled up snow drifts that made the opening much narrower than it should have been. Anchor went first, slightly widening the gap as the mawile clambered after him. The building they sought stood at the end of it, squatting beside a wall topped with barbed wire. Jagged icicles hung from the wire and spread out onto the porch above the door like daggers. Or teeth. Cold droplets dripped from them and one landed down the back of Macro's neck. He stifled a squeak of shock and disgust and instead raised his paw to ring the bell beside the door.



"Who is it?" a female voice spoke clearly back at him.



"Hunter," he said. "We got what you asked for."



"Wait a moment."



Macro tapped his left claws on his right arm as he stared at the door. The sound of dripping behind him was leaving him on edge and his soaked fur was growing more and more uncomfortable despite the shelter the porch provided.



The door cracked open and a round face peered out at him. Blue and white with a beard of ice. A beartic.



"Hunter, eh?" The deep, masculine voice certainly didn't belong to the pokemon who'd answered his call.



Macro forced a grin and nodded to his large companion. "We've got the parts you requested."



"So it's you who took the request?" The beartic stifled a chuckle. "Didn't expect one of System's most wanted to brave Boolean City after Socket's crack-down on us. How much do we owe you?"



The beartic took the heavy sack from Anchor and opened it to peer inside. Macro didn't need to examine it again to double check the value. He'd done that enough times already. A grin split his face, and he leant against the porch door and immediately regretted it.



"Twenty thousand credits," he said.



The beartic looked up at him and his muzzle crinkled so much his lips pulled back from his teeth, sending a further chill through Macro's already frozen bones.



"Twenty thousand stinkin' credits for one sack of weapon parts?!" he roared.



Macro forced himself to stand up straight and he felt Anchor draw closer to him.



"Hey, I risked my hide to get those parts!" Macro retorted. "They ain't exactly easy to come by, or obtain. I think you'll find there's equal number of coils in there to fit each and every other piece to. You've got enough for…" The mawile threw his paws in the air and shrugged. "For like… twenty guns."



"A thousand credits a piece…" The beartic spat and it froze on the porch as soon as it touched it. "Lasers sold for six hundred a piece."



"Yeh, and now there's a ban." Macro shrugged again and he heard Anchor ram his fist into his open paw twice. "Call the rest a commission fee."



The beartic's eye warily went to the granbull and he placed the sack of weapon parts behind him out of sight. His paw went to his belt and Macro was relieved to find he wasn't pulling out a gun but a pocket computer. The huge mammal didn't even look at it as he tapped at the holographic screen. Instantly, the mawile's pouch beeped and he switched on his optical display.



Twenty thousand five hundred credits.



"You overpaid," he said flatly.



"You're honest." The beartic stepped back into the building and pushed the door closed enough that only his muzzle was poking out. "I wanted to check exactly who I was dealing with. Keep it."



The door slammed shut, whipping up cold snow and shaking two of the icicles free. They smashed onto the concrete beside Macro and tiny shards clung to his yellow fur.



"Why did you tell him he overpaid?" Anchor asked.



"In case he knew." Macro tapped him on the paw and steered him away from Cipher Frostwall. "I didn't want an army of pokemon his size chasing after me. I think we've been chased enough today, don't you?"



Anchor laughed heartily and folded his arms. "Sure. Shall I call Matrix, or do you wanna sight-see?"



Macro snorted and looked away from him, his eyes drifting to the now near-black sky. Wildcard Gamma's shadow appeared above them, even darker yet only just visible to the trained eye. The neon pink ladder cut through the darkness, cascading down towards them with its familiar electronic 'chinks' as each one fired into place. The thought of being back on board his beloved ship already made him feel warmer.



Something else in the sky caught his eye and he looked up to his left. Three more shadows. Smaller. Heading right for them. His violet eyes widened and he edged closer to Anchor.



"Something wrong?" Anchor followed his gaze and his body stiffened. "Oh ratattas. That's not who was stalking us, is it?"



The ladder appeared just above Macro's head and he reached up and grabbed onto the lowest rung. Anchor took hold of one seven rungs up and stood with his feet just above the mawile's head. It whipped them up towards the exit hatch and cold air roared past his ears. But his eyes never left those three ships. They deviated to the right of Wildcard Gamma, spreading out slightly. Pointed. Golden.



He vanished into the exit hatch and it hissed shut behind him, closing out the freezing air. He took in a few deep breaths and shook water from his fur and scarf.



"Did you get a good look at them?" Anchor asked.



"Yes." Macro opened the inner door and stepped onto the ship, moving against the blast of warm air that blew yet more droplets from his body. "They weren't pirates, that's for certain."



"Government."



Macro nodded and felt his fur bristle. He marched into the cockpit and cast Matrix a look that froze the tiny bee pokemon to his seat.



"Did those ships show up on your radar?" he asked.



The ribombee nodded and his eyes drifted back to the monitor. Three blinking dots, arcing away from Wildcard Gamma until they reached outside of the radar's range of detection.



Anchor scratched the base of his mowhawk as he watched the display. "They're not our stalker, that's for certain."



"No," said Macro. "They're not." He moved over to his seat and sat down heavily. "Follow them."



"What?!" Matrix and Anchor rounded on him.



"I said follow them. I want to know what three of Socket's ships are doing over Boolean City right after a weapon ban."



"Surveillance?" Anchor growled.



"Surveying what? They've already got the place secure. They're clearly not after us, either."



"I think we should count our blessings they didn't even see us," said Anchor. "If they did, they'd be whaling on us! You're wanted dead or alive, Macro!"



"The bounty's higher if I'm alive." Macro kicked his feet up onto the dashboard and strained out his scarf onto the floor. "They're up to something. Follow them."



Anchor let out a flustered breath and shook his head as he fell into the driver's seat. "All right. But I'm throwing up our cloak. We ain't getting caught by Socket's lot. I'm too young for that nonsense."



Matrix cleared his throat and looked over at them. "I think that's a good idea. Because our stalker's come back."





The yellow ships kept ahead of them, almost vanishing into the blackness. Wildcard Gamma kept them in sight and on their radar as they followed them across System Sky. Macro's eye drifted to and from the fuel meter as the ship held up its cloaking device, making them invisible to the naked eye. Whether or not Socket's ships had radars he had no idea. If they did, surely they'd know they were being followed? Nevertheless, they kept moving onward in a steady line right towards the desolate areas of System Sky.



"Where are these guys going?" Anchor asked as he kept one paw on the accelerator to keep the ship at a steady speed.



"Oh, I've no idea," Macro chuckled. "But I can't wait to find out."



Anchor fired him a sideways leer. "This is just some kind of game to you, ain't it?"



"It's not a game, but it's fun."



"Fun? I'd hardly call chasing a government fleet 'fun'! I was always under the impression space pirates and the government stayed out of each other's way unless the law called for it."



"We're always against the law."



"Not all of them, Macro. Stealing, breaking and entering, trespassing. Yeh, sure. But this might very well result in murder if they start firing at us and we fire back."



"Well, as far as I'm concerned, they break that law themselves every day since they stripped the rights right off the backs of the water dwellers."



"So you're saying you'll fight back and kill these pokemon?"



"I'm not saying that at all. You're twisting my words, Anchor." Macro tucked his paws behind his head and kept his eyes on the golden tails ahead of them. "But if they pick a fight with us, I'll fight back. Not shoot to kill, just stun. But I won't be taken guilty if their ships can't take a hit and crash."



Anchor's brow furrowed and he leant forwards in his seat. "Hang on. Hang on a stinkin' second, what's that?"



Macro squinted into the distance and let out a stunned 'huh'.



Standing black against the horizon was a squat structure, not dissimilar to one of the floating cities only a lot smaller. Red and green flickered one after the other above it, indicating it was still on System's grid, whatever it was.



"How are we doing, Matrix?" he asked. "Does it say what this place is?"



Matrix 'hmm'd as he pawed at the holographic display.



"It's not on any maps," he said. "I should also tell you our stalker is still behind us, although a lot further back now."



So they had a radar then… Macro rubbed at the base of his horn and sighed. This could end up messy. Part of him wanted to turn back but the other part was incredibly curious and wanted to know not only what those ships were up to, but also what this place was.



"Bring her in to land," he said.



Anchor shot him a surprised glance but he pushed the steering stick forward, bringing the ship in for a land beside the huge, squat structure.



As they drew closer, the anomaly revealed itself to be a building. One huge building sat atop an island just like the other floating cities. But why would a lone building accommodate a floating island? Macro frowned and leant on the dashboard to get a better look. The golden ships vanished out of view into a tunnel below the structure. He briefly considered following them, but his ship would likely get stuck in that narrow opening.



"You might need to bring her over it and let us out that way," he said.



"Nah," said Anchor. "I'm looking for a safer, more secluded spot. I'm not getting us fired at."



"The cloak is up!"



"It won't be for much longer if we don't wanna end up stranded, Cap'n."



Macro looked down at the fuel meter. It was already down to half. The increased speed and use of the cloak had cost them greatly, leaving them with just more than enough to get back to Pulse City for a re-fill. That was if they didn't need to fight and keep using the ship's cloaking device.



"All right," he breathed.



He watched the building drift by as Wildcard Gamma drifted slowly along beside it, following the jagged circumference around the small, squat island. What windows the building had were dark. Not a single light on behind them, at least not that he could see. He also didn't see a single door. His heart sank at the possibility that the only entrance was the one the golden ships had taken.



All the way around the building was a short stretch of flat land that reflected the antenna's red and green light. Sheet metal. The building itself was concrete and iron, and the single most dull and boring building he'd ever seen. Nothing indicated what it was other than the presence of those ships. If he'd come across it by accident he'd have dismissed it as abandoned.



But he'd have still wanted a good look. An isolated building, as boring as it might be, still piqued his curiosity.



The ship followed the sharp bend and the huge windscreen fell upon a short dock poking out from the far end. And just at the end of that dock, a set of double doors leading into the building. Or out of it, depending on what they were primarily used for. He guessed out.



"Let me out there." Macro pointed at the docks.



Anchor didn't even nod. He dragged the large wishiwashi ship towards the docks at a slugma's pace. Macro folded his arms and rapped his claws against his arm as he watched the passing building. His ears twitched as Matrix began to hum, his boyish voice wavering as he fidgeted in his seat.



Finally, the nose of the wishiwashi reached the docks and Macro leapt from his seat. His still-damp fur had left a wet patch on the leather and it stuck to it, tugging a few looser tufts free. He beat himself down as he rushed out of the cockpit for the hatch.



"You ain't going alone, Cap'n." Anchor trudged after him, checking the straps on his heat tracker.



"I'd expect nothing less." Macro reached the hatch and pushed the button for the ladder.



The ground wasn't too far below him. He could easily have jumped. Three rungs and his feet touched cold metal. He scanned his eyes over the building - large but squat. A single story tall. The pokemon it contained must have been huge. He guessed tyranitar or rhydon. Maybe even aggron. All of them spelled bad news for him and his crew, regardless. They were all capable of dealing with fairy types, even if it was tyranitar's weakness. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and made for the double doors.



Locked.



He tutted and folded his arms as he looked the doors up and down. No visible alarm, but if it was a secret government building then it had to have one hidden somewhere, most likely the other side in the form of a bar running across it.



He reached into his pouch and pulled out his lock pick.



Anchor shifted behind him as he jiggled the slender metal rod around inside the lock. After a few twists and turns, the lock snapped open and he forced his claws between the two doors and tugged it open.



Silence.



He let out a sigh of relief. Part of him had been worried prising the lock open wouldn't be enough.



"I see cameras," said Anchor.



Macro looked up at him and followed his gaze to the roof of the building. They'd not been easy to spot at first glance, but hidden below the roof were black, concave sheets of glass tucked away in the shadows. Not quite hidden cameras, but hidden enough to say 'we're watching you'.



He swallowed drily and ducked into the building. Anchor's heavy footing was oddly quiet as he followed closely behind him. The building stood in complete darkness. Not a sound came from further ahead. The only sounds were their footsteps and breathing and the occasional sniff from Anchor as he scouted out whoever might be lurking ahead.



Macro stretched out a paw as the corridor grew darker and his claws brushed against wood. His eyes snapped to the object and he could just make out a large wooden box not much bigger than himself. He rummaged in his pouch and tugged out a tiny flashlight. The LED bulb submerged the box and a small patch of wall behind it in a soft, white light. Macro squinted at the wooden crate. It was like any other shipping crate except it lacked an address or destination. All it had written on it in red words were two short sentences. 'This way up' with an arrow pointing towards the ceiling, and 'confidential'. It was the second word that made Macro break into a smile and practically bounce with glee.



"All right, Anchor. Grab it. We're off."



The granbull didn't so much as question him. He grabbed the box in both paws and stomped after him back towards the dock. Macro cast a glance back over his shoulder as he reached the door, looking past Anchor into the shadows. Nothing.



It seemed too easy.



He stepped back out onto the docks and made for the neon ladder.



"All right, lets get that crate on board and -"



A jolt of electricity bounced before his toes, freezing him to the spot. He looked up to his left and grit his teeth together as he saw a heliolisk rushing towards him, his eyes completely covered by a strange, long eyepiece Macro recognised as an old-fashioned heat tracker. The device was cumbersome in that it sacrificed the use of both eyes for heat targeting while compromising the ability to spot non-heat-emitting threats.



Such as an iron beam.



Macro leapt back towards the doors and tore the alarm bar free, bringing it down in an arc towards the heliolisk. The large lizard spread out his frill and hissed, sending another jolt of electricity at both Macro and Anchor. Macro dodged and brought the bar up in an arc towards the reptile's chin while Anchor was engulfed in the electricity, dropping the crate to the floor with an almighty clatter.



The bar struck home, sending the heliolisk arcing backwards into the wall of the building. Macro span towards Anchor and barked commands at him until he pulled himself together and grabbed the now cracked crate. He pushed the granbull towards the hatch and glanced back down the docks. More pokemon had emerged now, not a single aggron or tyranitar amongst them. Most of them were electric types. A raichu, ampharos and electivire rushed towards them amongst a small pack of stoutland.



A low growl rose from Macro's throat and he followed Anchor into the hatch, giving the granbull a small shove so the door could close behind them. The ship shook as electricity engulfed it, knocking it sideways and causing both pokemon to slide back into the corridor.



"Matrix! Move it!" Macro screeched as he rushed back to his seat. "Pulse City!"



The ribombee keyed in the co-ordinates while Anchor, now relieved of the crate in the middle of the cockpit floor, shook out his stiff limbs before taking his seat. He wobbled as the ship took another hit and the lights flickered ominously. Something had clearly been fried and Macro hoped deeply it wasn't too crucial.



The granbull steered the ship back up into the air, arcing back with such ferocity that it shoved them back into their seats and sent Matrix sprawling against the wall. Macro made a mental note to teach the ribombee the proper use of a seatbelt. The crate rushed out of the cockpit, followed by a shrill shriek from the kitchen.



"I don't like this, Cap'n!" Anchor's voice came out hoarse.



The mawile was too busy focusing on what was in front of them to fully realise that he was talking about the very thing he was seeing. Not three, but seven of those gold ships soared around the corner, firing red lasers at Wildcard Gamma.



"Engage Schooling and fire back!" he commanded.



Anchor obeyed, his nimble paws flying over the dashboard as he pressed at various buttons. The reassuring sound of the tiny wishiwashi turrets popping out from their hold caused a small smile to play at Macro's lips. He heard them clanking into place, creating a large ring around the main ship, then a deep whir as the tiny fish began to spin. A torrent of blue bubble-like bullets flew at the golden ships and exploded on impact, blowing back the front-most ships and sending them off balance.



It gave them enough time to turn Wildcard Gamma and begin to retreat. There was no need to keep fighting.



Another red laser clipped the ship's tail and Macro slammed his paws into the dashboard.



"We need to engage hyperdrive!" he said. "Otherwise they're gonna blow the ship's fins and tail off!"



"That's what you're worried about?!" Anchor roared.



The Schooling turrets fired another jet of bubbles, striking the assailing ships and knocking one of them out of the sky to land atop the squat building. The electric pokemon below were focusing all their efforts on shocking Wildcard Gamma, aiming for the bubble-firing weapons.



Anchor gripped at the accelerator with such ferocity his knuckles turned white. His muzzle creased with frustration as he set the ship to fire once more.



"Why aren't we in hyperdrive?!" Macro shrieked.



"Because we're too close to their ships!" Anchor barked back. "The shock will end up knocking them out of the sky and there's nothing but ocean below us! Do you want your bounty to go up? 'Cos it will at this rate!"



Macro clawed at his own face and let out a frustrated growl. If they wanted to get away from this, he had to take things into his own paws. He leant across the dashboard and grabbed hold of the accelerator.



"Hey!" Anchor brought his spare fist down on top of Macro's horn. "You're gonna get us all killed!"



"I'm gonna get us out of here!" he roared back. "And don't strike me! It's mutiny!"



"Mutiny my tail!"



"Stop fighting!" Matrix screamed. "We've got bigger things to worry about! That stalker of ours is back!"



Macro twisted his head in Anchor's arms to look over at the ribombee. He released his grip on the granbull's left ear as he stared at the red dot behind them… slowly moving to their right. A shrill hissing sound permeated the cockpit and all eyes went to the windshield as a torpedo shaped like a grinning carvannah dived into the group of golden ships, striking the central one and exploding in a violent shock wave. Wildcard Gamma was blown backwards, away from the fleet and past the assisting ship. All they saw was a flat, rudder-like tail as the small blue ship arced upwards and zipped out of sight above their heads.



Macro shook his head sharply and climbed back into his seat.



"Hyperdrive!" he commanded. "Quick!"



Anchor obliged, turning Wildcard Gamma away from the building and thrusting the accelerator forwards with all his weight. The ship lurched, plunging the cockpit into a deafening silence, and Macro found himself forced back into his seat with such intensity he thought the fabric might swallow him.

(I don't know how to post spoiler tags...)


Yeah, I'm a 'weekly update' person, I guess. Weekly is the slowest I'm willing to go, as it keeps me in a routine. I used to do twice or even three times a week with my finished works XD




I initially wanted a space theme, but decided to drop it at some point. Hence the trash belt in one of the earlier chapters (I can't remember which one it is in...) I'm also not that well-read on cyberpunk, ngl. Just recently picked up Neuromancer, and I plan to read some YA novels I've researched into. Most of my cyberpunk knowledge is from games, vast amounts of research into the setting and looking up pictures online... (And probably some anime at some point?)




I'm really happy that Wildcard Gamma's schooling and the elemental lasers have been well received in this setting. They were so much fun to create and write.




So many people have asked me this. I haven't really thought of a reason. Maybe what he had done was so vast there was actually no room for the everstone anywhere else in his body? His capabilities do come up much later on, in a subtle way.



They were resting in the assurance the building was very well hidden, given its location. Error on their part? Also, regarding space pirates turning each other in... generally they would avoid it, but it wasn't unheard of for them to at least try. Macro has major trust issues with anyone outside his small circle. Even the tiny minority that might attempt to turn in another space pirate would unsettle him, especially given the huge price on his head. And yes. He's a jerk, and extremely flawed and reckless. But there is a lot more to him than that XD

Thanks for reading! =D And thanks for pointing out the typos etc. Man, some of them are embarrassing. I do proof read, but they just keep slipping by me... XD





The small tympole ship drifted slowly down into Spool City. Filthy, yellow grime coated the windows that from the outside served as the tadpole pokemon's eyes but from the inside were a crucial means to see where one was going. With barely enough time to kick the ship's hover panels into place, the underbelly struck the tarmac then shot back into the air as they kicked in, allowing it to finally come to a smooth stop.



Surge swore under her breath as she snatched her mask from the glove compartment and strapped it over her face, leaving her bandana in place. She climbed into the air lock and waited for it to close behind her before opening the exit hatch. Air blasted out into the city as it hissed open, almost knocking her off her feet. She staggered out into the grime-filled streets, catching a glare from a nearby trash can. The garbordor inhabiting it ducked back under the lid, letting it clatter back into place.



The zigzagoon locked her ship and cast her eyes left and right. She'd landed right in one of the main roads with not a single vehicle in sight. Not even a hover-board to speak of. With the vast number of poison types that decided to live in the outskirts of Meta City, she found it odd to not see a single means of transport. Her tympole ship stood out like a sore paw pad at the best of times in System Ground and she briefly considered moving it closer to her destination.



Nah. No one would be able to get inside anyway.



The dingy road wound round into an alleyway and she stepped over spilled bin bags, deeply wishing the mask would filter out the putrid smells of rotting fruit and meat along with other waste that assaulted her senses. The narrow alley opened up into another main road - the one she'd hoped to actually land in. Between a boarded up shop filled with torn posters and a club sporting a neon pink animated billboard stood a ragged little office with no sign to mark it. A sign would only cause the place more abuse than it already took.



She stuck her key in the lock and ducked into the room, trying not to choke on the smoke. A tall delphox looked up at her from a high-backed office chair and he removed his cigar from his mouth to puff out a stream of smoke before finally addressing her.



"You took your time."



Okay, so addressing her wasn't the best term to use. The zigzagoon marched past him and leant against a beaten filing cabinet.



"I'm sorry, Tracer." said Surge. "I got sidetracked."



"Clearly."



The other two occupants in the room glanced at her from their stations beside their computers. Defrag the lopunny flicked her ear back as she returned to her work while the eevee, Widget, was too occupied with whatever message board he was currently browsing.



"Where did your little endeavor take you?" Tracer asked.



"I was following Wildcard Gamma, like you asked," she said. "They don't live in Pulse City, you know. It took them a few days to actually show up."



"Did you manage to apprehend their captain?"



"You mean the sexy mawile?" A smirk tugged at her lips and Tracer's glare bounced off her harmlessly.



"Don't speak about Hunter like that," he said flatly. "I hired you for your chameleon abilities, not your flirtatious nature. You were meant to catch him off guard and bring him in, just like you have done with several other space pirates."



"Well, I'm afraid I lost him."



Tracer rolled his eyes and flicked the ash from his cigar into an overflowing ashtray.



"Wildcard Gamma has some kind of cloaking mechanism," she said. "I was able to track them most of the way but they must have noticed and hit hyper drive. I lost them somewhere on the outskirts of System Sky."



"Outskirts…" Tracer scratched behind his ear. "There's nothing there."



Surge snorted. There was no way she was telling the detective she'd lost the ship at some kind of secret government base. Or that she'd fired at their fleet and took one of them out. She had no idea what had come over her at the time and the sheer memory of it turned her pads clammy. She absently wiped one down the fur of her chest and glanced over at the blackened window.



"You really need to get your air filter fixed," she said. "You'll make yourselves sick in all this smoke."



Tracer merely grunted but Widget fired her a cheeky smile.



"Some of us are enhanced to not get sick," he said.



Surge glared at the eevee then sighed. "Well, I think I'm going to get some rest. It'll be nice to sleep somewhere quiet for a change."



She opened the door to a cleaner, much less smoky area of the tiny building.



"Don't get too comfortable." She glanced over her shoulder at the delphox. "I'm sending you right back out in the morning."



"Back to Pulse City?" She wasn't sure why she asked. She knew the answer.



He nodded. "I can't pay you if I don't make any money, Surge. Socket won't pay me if she doesn't see any success, and pretty soon my account is going to run dry."



Surge gave a dry laugh. "Well, I'll keep trying to apprehend Hunter then, shall I? It'll be fun to play around with him a bit more."



"Don't take your time."



The door closed behind her and she stared at its dusty window. Tracer's ears were clearly defined beyond it, probably listening for her. Always listening.



Socket wouldn't pay him if she didn't see any success… she wouldn't pay him at all if she knew the mercenary he'd hired had attacked her fleet and blown up one of her ships. Surge tugged at her waistcoat and made her way towards the stairs. She needed to keep that wrapped up in a neat little bow.





Wildcard Gamma trundled along at a steady pace, making its way through the space pirate district a few miles outside of Pulse City. Colourful neon lights flickered from the smaller floating towns that surrounded it, their antennas rhythmically blinking red and green against the dark, star-filled sky.



Anchor strained against the crowbar as he prised open the wooden crate. Despite the crack in the side, it was impossibly difficult to open. Macro had considered using his horn to chew through it but he feared he'd damage whatever was inside.



"Come on, Anchor!" He clenched his paws together and bounced on his toes. "Put your back into it!"



The granbull flashed his sharp teeth as he threw himself against the metal rod. Wood splintered and groaned until the wooden panel began to peel free, revealing a row of sharp, silver nails.



"Whoever made this," he grunted, "really didn't want it to be opened by anyone but the one receiving it."



Matrix wound his antennae around in his paw and leant back into his seat. "If that were the case, why not put it in a code-controlled metal crate than some flimsy wooden box?"



Anchor snarled at him over his shoulder. "Flimsy?! You wanna try and prise this open?!"



The ribombee shrugged and diverted his gaze back to the crate.



Anchor roared and rammed his shoulder into the rod. It flew free from the box and Macro yelped and ducked as the crowbar soared over his head and clattered onto the dashboard. The mawile's eyes widened as he looked from the metal rod to Anchor.



"You nearly shattered my window!" he squeaked.



The granbull merely grunted as he used his paws to tug the rest of the panel free. It fell to the floor, the row of nails running around it reminiscent of some kind of deadly trap.



Macro moved around it to look inside the box. A gasp left his throat completely of its own accord and he raised a paw to scratch at the long fur around his ear.



A small pachirisu sat with her back against the crate, her head lolling against her chest. A small, silver antenna stuck out from behind her right ear topped with what he guessed was an LED bulb. A jack lead with a USB adapter lay curled up neatly beside her. Deep buzzing cut through the silence as Matrix hovered between them to get a closer look.



"What is she?" Anchor asked. "An android?"



"I've no idea," Macro reached into the box and ran his paw over the back of her head. "I'm guessing she has a switch or something."



All he felt was fur until his claws touched cold metal at the base of her skull. His first instinct was to yank his paw back. It felt unnatural. Some pokemon had modifications that were alien to their own bodies, but to have something embedded into one's skull was a ghastly idea. What made it worse was it felt like some kind of socket. He mentally reminded himself she was merely a robot and kept pawing around for a switch.



"Are you sure it's a good idea to switch it on?" Matrix asked.



"I dunno, but I'm curious," Macro explained. "I wanna see what it does. Besides, if it does work, we could make a fortune selling it! Androids are pretty rare."



"Rare?" Anchor scoffed. "I ain't even seen one before, or heard of anyone selling one. Robots, sure, but androids are too advanced. I mean, look at her. I could swear she's breathing."



"Probably just some kind of standby feature." Macro poked his tongue out between his lips as he felt around the socket again. "Ahah!"



His claws flicked over a tiny button that clicked away from him. The antenna behind the pachirisu's ear lit up with a soft blue light. She shifted and he sat back and watched as her eyes fluttered open. Her long black lashes contrasted with her white fur, and as they lifted revealed a pair of chocolate brown eyes. She raised a paw to rub at them then ran it through the long, blue fur between her blue ears.



"I'm still in this box?" She stretched and yawned widely. "Due to the damage, it is clear you didn't use the release feature."



"Release feature?" Macro looked up at the box.



It was a different view from the inside. Still wooden, still a crate, but attached to the ceiling was a metal catch. He grunted and pushed himself to his feet. He'd have needed a special scanner for that. Something to trigger it to fall open. The entire crate would have spread neatly on the floor, no force needed.



"It's amazing!" Anchor gasped. "So lifelike!"



The pachirisu rubbed at her eyes again and looked up at each of them in turn until they landed on Macro.



"I'm guessing you are Socket?" she asked.



The three space pirates stared back down at her with identical expressions of surprise.



Anchor leant in towards Macro and whispered, "Why does she think you're Socket?"



Macro felt a smirk tug at his lips that swiftly became a grin and he doubled over with laughter.



"We took a parcel that was supposed to go to the freakin' mayor?! Oh, this is too perfect!"



The pachirisu blinked. "You're taking me to Socket?"



"What?" Macro swiftly regained his composure and wiped a tear from his cheek. "Sure. We're taking you to Socket."



The pachirisu nodded and stared at the wooden wall before her. His heavy sarcasm had rolled straight off her.



"Then if you please," she said, "could you reboot my system then shut me back off? The first pokemon I should see should be Socket."



"Well, that ain't gonna work, is it?" Macro raised a paw and shrugged. "First pokemon you saw was me."



"My inbuilt FAQ tells me that a reboot is sufficient to perform a short-term memory wipe."



Anchor shifted uncomfortably. "Cap'n, this is freaking me out."



Matrix nodded slowly and landed back in his seat, his cream face oddly pale.



An android meant to be delivered to System's mayor. That explained the government fleet around that strange, squat building. Whatever it was, it clearly manufactured these androids. Or distributed them. Maybe even both. Macro watched the pachirisu as her large eyes remained fixed on the inside of the crate. What was Socket wanting with an android? Didn't she have enough pokemon working for her? Obtaining an android right after issuing yet another weapon ban while the pokemon were engaged in a low-key civil war… Unless she had a love of gadgets, then something wasn't right about this.



"I don't wanna switch you off," he said.



The pachirisu's eyes snapped up to meet his while Anchor let out a groan.



"Please switch it off," the granbull whined. "We know it works now, so let's board it back up and-"



Macro swatted the wooden panel back out of his large paws. "No. We're leaving her switched on."



The pachirisu blinked a few times. "But-"



"But nothing," said Macro. "How much time can a reboot wipe from your memory?"



"Searching." She stared blankly at the crate's interior again. "Thirty two minutes and twelve seconds."



"Wow." Anchor nodded slowly. "That's rather precise."



"Then how about this," said Macro. "You remain on for another… twenty five minutes. Have a walk around, spend some time with us, then we'll shut you back off again and deliver you to Socket."



Anchor's brow knitted together and he fixed Macro with a sideways look, but he didn't say anything despite his mouth opening and closing slightly as he looked back down at the pachirisu.



She stared down at her paws, her nose twitching as her eyes unfocused.



"Come on," Macro whined. "It must be cramped in there, right? So why not stretch…" He waved his paw up and down at her. "Whatever it is you have."



"Whatever I have?" She looked back up at him and inclined her head on one side. "What a funny thing to say."



"Wires then, or whatever it is you things use as muscles."



He stooped and grabbed her by the wrist, causing her to let out a little yelp. As he tugged her to her feet, any words he'd been planning on saying died on his tongue. Something wasn't right at all. She was warm. One could liken that to the mechanics whirring away, but what was really odd was the quick pulsing against his paw. He stared down at it, dumbfounded.



"Is there a problem?" she asked.



He licked his lips slowly and spoke, but he didn't look away from her tiny wrist. "You're alive?"



"Of course I'm alive. I'm a living computer."



His eyes narrowed and snapped back up to her, making Anchor and Matrix jump but the pachirisu didn't so much as flinch.



"What's your name?" he asked.



"My name is Download Database."



"And what were you made for?"



"That is confidential. I can only divulge that information with a password."



He released her wrist, letting it fall to her side and took a step back. Her eyes sparkled with life, but there was nothing else behind them. No identity. No curiosity. The look she gave her surroundings was nothing more than a way of taking in information.



This was a living creature, and there was nothing there. That explained the socket in the back of her skull. It was a means to download and upload information. Whoever had made her had taken everything, including her very identity, and replaced it with a computer.



If Socket had asked for this, then she was sick.



Anchor shifted slightly behind her. "Are you alright, Cap'n?"



Macro grit his teeth together and marched past Download Database towards his room, slamming his door behind him so it shook the entire ship.





Socket stared out of the wide window at the bustling streets of Meta City. Mechanical trees wavered in the growing breeze while windmills turned above the tall buildings, their blades picking up speed as they turned every gust into valuable electricity. The repetitive jingling that filled her office would have grated on anyone else, but she'd tuned it out. It meant work was being done.



The gothitelle folded her arms as her attention turned to the sky. Where was it? What was taking so long?



"Madam Mayor?"



She looked over her shoulder at the door. A sparksurfer raichu stepped inside, his eyes flitting from left to right. He wasn't exactly an unfamiliar face in the capital, but he twitched like a hatchling who'd been separated from his mother.



"What is it, Yobi?" she asked.



"I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said. "It's about Download Database. I'm afraid-" He gulped as her eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm afraid it's been stolen."



The jingling came to a halt and the tiny head of a chingling looked up from the desk at the far end of the office. His tiny eyes practically sparkled with glee as he looked from the raichu to her and back.



"Stolen?" she asked. "How is that possible?"



"It was Wildcard Gamma," said Yobi. "They followed our fleet to the laboratory."



"Followed?"



He ducked back towards the doorway and waved his paws in a desperate attempt to quell her rising anger.



"There was only three of us!" His words raced out almost as one. "We couldn't have fought them! Our radar told us we were being followed, but the ship was cloaked! We weren't even sure who it was. The best plan was to let them follow us and regroup at the lab. Fight back, all ships and pokemon! We didn't know it was Hunter, Madam Mayor. He took the crate and-"



The raichu rose into the air in a bubble of purple light and his breath rushed out of his lungs as his back struck the wall.



"You lost Download Database?!" she roared.



The orange rodent pokemon stuttered as he struggled to release himself from her psychic attack.



"Is it connected to the network?!" she demanded.



He nodded stiffly.



"So you're telling me," she began slowly, "that my top secret project is in that mawile's sticky paws?!"



The purple bubble vanished and the raichu crumpled to the floor. He rubbed at his neck and diverted his eyes to the wall, falling briefly on the fascinated chingling.



Socket's lips pursed together as her mind ran over every worst case scenario. Whatever pokemon ended up with the living computer in their paws would realise soon enough that it lacked every essence that made it an individual being.



"What of the pachirisu's memories?" she asked.



"We removed them," he croaked. "Everything. Saved to a disk, just like you asked."



"Destroy it."



Yobi's eyes widened and he stared at her, aghast. "But… that's murder."



Socket clicked her tongue and glanced away. "Of course it is."



"Why do you want it destroyed?"



"In case it's retrieved! I want that computer in complete working order as designed, at least until we can find a more… convenient tool." She paused. "Which I am now all the more anxious to do after this little setback."



"All right." Yobi rubbed at his neck again and cleared his throat. "We could break it up? Hide it all. That way, her personality survives and-"



"If you think that will work, then do that."



"Sure thing."



"I also want you to limit what information she has access to," she said. "I don't want that mawile selling on confidential information."



Yobi scratched his ears and coughed. "I don't… that might not-"



"Don't let me down, Yobi." Her voice was laced with ice that chilled him so much his fur stood on end. "Now retrieve that computer. And make it quick. I've already lost valuable time."



The raichu rose to his feet and bolted out of the room, his large paws sliding over the loose rug as he scrambled into the corridor.



Socket turned to face the chingling and he returned her look with a wide smile.



"Cut that out, Tweak," she said.



The little bell-like pokemon laughed, an odd tinkle that filled her office and made her fur bristle.



"I want new posters printing, and an update on the wanted list," she said. "Increase Hunter's bounty up to forty thousand credits and have the reward apply in System Sky. That mawile will be behind bars before the weekend."



She tucked her paws behind her back and moved over to the window. Tweak's hyper jingling resounded off the walls, but once again she tuned it out, keeping her eyes on the sky.



Wildcard Gamma… that ship would be stripped down for parts. Slowly. And she was going to enjoy every second of it.

Shouts and screams came from the ship and Macro readied his laser as he dashed into the cockpit. He released it back into its holster and shook his head at the two pokemon rolling on the floor.



“Please release me,” Download Database said, rather too calmly. “I must shut down and wipe my short term memory.”



“No!” Matrix half-growled. “It’s too creepy!”



“What are you two doing?” Macro leant against the door frame and folded his arms.



Both pokemon looked up at him and Matrix sat back, revealing that the pachirisu had her arms bound to her sides with the jack lead she’d been boxed with.



“I’m stopping her shutting down again,” Matrix explained. “It weirds me out seeing a living pokemon like that.”



“Correction,” said Download Database. “I’m a living computer. Shutting down is a necessity to conserve power and organise data.”



Macro looked down at her. “So you admit you’re not a living pokemon? You have, in fact, been killed?”



“No, the pokemon I used to be has not been killed. I am merely borrowing her body.”



“It’s still savage.”



“I’m afraid I do not understand.” She wriggled until she was sat upright and fixed him with emotionless, brown eyes. “Please release me. I must shut down and wipe as much memory as possible. I will sadly remain with… forty six minutes of useless data. This unfortunately cannot be rectified without the right command.”



“Too late for you then, isn’t it?” Macro stifled a laugh. “No. You can stay tied up. There’s no point in shutting you down.”



“But I must clear my memory as Socket absolutely must be the first pokemon I see.”



“Again, it’s too late.” He frowned. “Why must she be the first one? Can you tell me that, at least?”



“It’s an imprint function. The first pokemon I see is the pokemon I serve and have devoted loyalty to. At the moment, that pokemon is you.”



“Oh!” His eyes widened and he rubbed at his chin. “So I could tell you to do anything then? Absolutely anything?”



“Yes, and I would have to obey.”



“That’s convenient.” He paused and a smirk tugged at his lips. “Stay switched on.”



She blinked. Twice. Then gave a polite nod.



“And stop this Socket nonsense,” he added. “Because there’s no way I’m taking you to her.”



“You’re not?”



“No. With the amount she increased my price by, she’s clearly up to something. You’re no mere toy to her.” He frowned at her blank expression. “Understood? You cut it out, and I’ll untie you.”



She nodded again and stared at the floor.



Macro moved over to her and tugged the cable free. She flexed her arms and rose to her feet while Matrix watched warily from the navigation desk.



“So she’s not gonna shut down?” he asked.



“No,” said Macro. “Not if she’s true to her word.”



“I am programmed to obey,” she said.



Macro looked up at Matrix then stood. “There you go. She won’t freak you out any more. Happy?”



Matrix nodded slowly and twirled one of his antenna in his paw.



“I do, however, require sleep,” she said. “But that is a different thing entirely. Something this living body requires.”



“Wait a minute… Does that mean we have to feed you, too?” Macro asked.



“Yes.”



“Huh.” He scratched at his ear and tutted. “I should have thought of that before I ordered that sundae.”



“Did someone say sundae?!” Cookie trotted into the cockpit and licked his lips.



“Good timing.” Macro nodded over his shoulder at the pachirisu. “One more mouth to feed. Think you can handle that?”



“Ooh!” Cookie eyed her curiously. “I might have to triple my recipes.”



“For one more pokemon?” Macro raised an eyebrow. “She’s not even that big!”



“Yeh.” Cookie rubbed the back of his head. “Hmm… double then?”



Macro waved a paw in dismissal. “You work it out. I’m gonna have a little nap.” He rubbed at his chest as he strode from the cockpit. “I’m starting to get some epic heart burn.”



“Story of my life.” Cookie trotted back into the kitchen, grabbing his apron from the door as he passed.



Macro continued down the corridor past the washroom until he reached the sleeping quarters. Three doors spanned it on either side, and the end one on the left was his, right by the loot room. He eyed the other rooms reminding himself that two of them were free. He’d have to assign one to Download Database, unless she was happy enough sleeping in a wooden crate.

He pushed his room open and threw himself onto his back on his bed. The sheets were still bunched up from the previous night and pressed into his lower spine. He shuffled until he’d managed to move them from underneath him and kicked them right to the end of the bed. He then slipped his belt off and placed it carefully on his night stand. One day, he’d end up forgetting to put one of his lasers back into safety and blow a nice hole in his mattress…



He reached into his pouch and pulled out his pocket computer, staring at the clock ticking seconds by on its flat screen. It hadn’t taken long for Surge to pull his number out of him. She had needed it, after all. He wondered how long it would take her to get the information he needed, then he’d block all her future calls if need be. He let his arm flop over the edge of the bed, keeping a firm hold on the computer. Within seconds he was staring at it again, pawing through the various useless apps he’d installed over the years.



A soft knock at the door snapped him out of his daze and he raised his head to look at it.



“Who is it?” he asked.



“Download Database.” She pushed the door open before he could tell her to go away. “Matrix has made something clear to me. You owe me an apology.”



His brow knit together and he pushed himself up so he was sitting. “For what?”



“For offending me,” she explained. “He informed me that is what I was feeling after you called me an ‘emotionless, empty, pathetic husk’ and ‘stupid computer’.”



His jaw fell open and hung there. All he could do was stare at her. Was she serious?



“Well?” She inclined her head on one side. “Are you going to apologise?”



Looking into her emotionless, empty eyes unnerved him. No. He wasn’t sorry. Everything he’d said was true. There was nothing… nothing… inside this pachirisu except empty data and an ability to speak. She could do the exact same thing as a computer tablet’s voice command and helper feature. The only difference here was it was using the body of a living being.



He flopped back onto his bed and went back to scrolling through his computer apps. “I’ve got nothing to apologise for. I meant every word.”



“So I’m pathetic and stupid?”



He grimaced. Maybe not every word.



“I understand.” She turned from the door then faltered. “By the way. You said you were going to have a nap. You lied.”



He turned his head slightly to look at her. Her back was turned but she had one eye fixed on him over her shoulder.



“You’re rude and a liar,” she said.



He snorted and blankly thumbed over his tablet screen. “And you’re programmed to obey me.”



“Yes. I am programmed to obey. Nevertheless, Matrix told me to make my feelings known. I’ve done that. Have a nice nap.”



The door clicked shut, rather too politely. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. ‘Weird’ didn’t even begin to describe it. He could totally understand where Matrix was coming from.



Everything about that ‘pachirisu’ was wrong. Was there anything he could do to train this computer to behave like an actual pokemon? Or was he stuck with data strolling around his ship inside some hapless pachirisu’s body? It wasn’t like she’d asked to be put inside there. It wasn’t her fault the pokemon had had her identity stripped away. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. His chest still hurt. Maybe he was ice cream intolerant? He rolled onto his left, facing the wall, and let his computer drop to his pillow. Maybe a good nap would clear his head?




Singing. Who was singing?



Macro rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up onto his elbow, trying to work out where on earth that music was coming from. His pillow was lit up like a torch. He reached down to block it out, but instead his paw found his computer tablet and he snatched it back, noting the name on the screen.



Surge.



It all came barreling back down on him. Breakfast. Socket. Download Database.



He grabbed his phone and croaked a ‘Hello’ into it.



“Wow, you sound wonderful,” came Surge’s voice, rather too heavy on the sarcasm.



He cleared his throat and adjusted his pillow so he could sit back against the wall.



“You just woke me,” he said.



“It’s one in the afternoon.”



If he’d thought to switch it to camera mode, she’d have seen him shrug.



“Anyway,” she said. “I got the information you need.”



“That was fast,” he said.



“I take pride in my work. I don’t leave my clients waiting around for too long.” He thought he heard her smile. “Unless they’ve wriggled into my bad books.”



“I guess I should count myself as one of the lucky ones?” He paused and rubbed at his scar. He couldn’t deny he was rather nervous. “So what have you got for me?”



“It turns out you were right,” she said. “Socket is up to something, and stealing that living computer may have been the best thing for System as a whole.”



“What?” He laughed. “You trying to tell me I’ve saved the world?”



“No. Not yet.” There was a small pause and he heard her take in a sharp breath. “Download Database, as the computer is called, is part of a larger network called BackDoor.”



“Huh. Is that being sent over the city antennas?”



“No. BackDoor is not entirely different from the living computer, except it has a personality. Of sorts, anyway. It’s completely artificial. Download Database isn’t the only computer linked to the network, either. It’s filled with creatures that aren’t biological. She’s the only biological component, designed merely to fit in with pokemon kind without drawing attention to Socket.”



“So what is this BackDoor doing exactly?”



“It’s looking for dimensional gateways.”



In the silence that followed, Macro found himself wondering if he was actually still asleep and the conversation wasn’t even happening. He glanced around at his room. Everything felt strange, dreamlike. No… eerie. Like something was very wrong and he was about to wake up at any moment after a rather unpleasant nightmare.



“Macro?”



Surge’s voice snapped him back to his computer and he took in a shaky breath.



“Are you all right?” she asked. “You went quiet.”



“I… I’m not sure.”



“I know this is hard to take in. I’ve read over this information three times to make sure I’m reading it right. You know how murder is illegal in System?”



“Yes, I’m quite clear on that.”



“Well, they’ve skirted around it with Download Database. Every single scrap of her personality and memories, everything that makes her who she is from her likes and dislikes to her fears and dreams, has been downloaded from her brain and stored on a disk. But after she fell into your paws, they’ve been broken up and placed onto five different disks and scattered throughout System to make it harder for whoever ends up with her to obtain them.”



“So her personality is retrievable?”



“It is, but you’re gonna have a hard time getting them. Each one is in a different government facility and those are heavily guarded. If you try to get them back then you clearly have a death wish.”



“Does it say where they are?”



“I have a list. I’ll send it to you along with the list of commands you wanted.”



“You… you said something about dimensions?” His voice wavered again. Part of him was deeply uncertain he’d even heard her right.



“Yes, I did. What I told you about the living computer and murder law-dodging is completely relevant to that. She’s a prototype.” She paused and he heard her scratch her head, or ear, or face.



“Macro, you’ve heard of humans?”



“I have. They’re fictitious. Make up part of System’s mythology.”



“Well, Socket believes they exist.” She paused again. “That’s what BackDoor is trying to find. They’re scouting out dimensional gates and opening them. Not just to other worlds, but to other time lines, and it looks like they’ve had some success. They managed to open a gate that showed them the same room they stood in thirty minutes prior to the test.”



He actually pinched himself. It hurt. Could you feel pain in dreams? He really wanted to wake up.



“Macro, this is huge! If they’re doing this, then you’re already in too deep. I feel I’ve made a massive mistake in telling you all this.”



“No… no, you’ve not.” His voice really wavered.



“You don’t sound well.”



“It’s just heart burn.” It wasn’t heart burn at all. He felt faint and the room was beginning to spin. “Look… send me the locations for her memories.”



“You’re still going after them?”



“I have an empty husk of a pachirisu walking around my ship, Surge. Every ounce of her personality has been stolen from her and I’m going to do everything I can to steal them back.”



She sighed audibly. “All right. But promise me that’s all you’ll do.”



He bit his lip so hard it hurt. Did she honestly think he was going to interfere in whatever Socket was doing? It was bonkers. It couldn’t be real. Humans didn’t exist. They never had, there was no proof of that. Zero proof. Allegedly they had, but then they’d all miraculously gone back home from the same dimensional tear they’d been dragged through. It was absolute tauros poop.



“Macro?”



“Did you find out exactly why she wants to find humans?” he asked.



“I didn’t delve that deeply,” said Surge. “To be honest, I got scared. All I know is she wants to turn them into computers like the pachirisu, but what purpose they serve is a mystery to me. I don’t think I even want to know. The passwords for Download Database should allow you to find all that out if you’re desperate to know. She’s got a computer in her brain, after all.”



Macro ran a paw over his face and let out a long sigh. What was Socket up to? One thing was for certain. There was no way she was getting her paws on Download Database.



“I’m getting her memories back,” he said. “Then I’m done with this nonsense. Humans do not, and have not ever, existed in System. If what you’ve told me is even remotely true, Socket is clearly insane. You’ve seen what she’s done to this pachirisu, or read it at least. You have to agree?”



She made a ‘hmm’ and rapped her claws on what sounded like a desk or table. “I can’t say I disagree with you. Anyway. Now I’ve done all this, can we make another date?”



“Send me the information first, then we’ll talk.” He hung up and sank down against the wall.



His chest felt strange, like someone had fastened an elastic band around it. If he’d still been wearing his belt he would have torn it off in hopes it would alleviate it. Anxiety? Fear? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Usually a bit of a shock gave him a buzz to keep fighting.



His computer chirruped at him and he stared down at Surge’s name again. This time it was an email. He opened the attachment with a growing sense of dread.



It wasn’t a dream. The whole bonkers, convoluted, dangerous and deadly plan was one hundred percent real. And he had been dragged right into the thick of it.

Macro leant on the back of Matrix’s chair, holding his computer so both the ribombee and Anchor could see it. His claw slid over the flat screen, scrolling through the tidy list of text.



“This is every location where they’re storing Download Database’s memories,” he told them. “In detail, down to what floor the disks are on. We can expect each one to be heavily guarded.”



“Five locations?” Anchor took the tiny computer in his large pink paw. “So there’s five disks?”



“Yup.” Macro straightened and folded his arms. “If we’re gonna restore her, then we need to hunt them down.”



“One of them is in Central Meta City,” said Matrix. “Which one do you want to go to first?”



“The closest.”



A soft shuffle behind them drew his attention over his shoulder. Whatever Anchor had said didn’t register in his mind. Download Database appeared in the room, pausing beside her wooden crate, giving the three space pirates a quick glance. No curiosity. No pausing to ask what they were doing. She just… existed.



“Cap’n?”



He looked up into the granbull’s confused face. “Huh?”



“I said the nearest is Scanner City,” said Anchor. “Not even a six hour flight from here.”



“But it will still get us there in the dead of night,” said Matrix. “Around one or two AM.”



“That’s perfect,” said Macro. “There’ll be less pokemon on the streets.”



“I wouldn’t bank on it,” said Anchor. “Scanner City is fighting pokemon territory. Those ‘mon are party animals.”



Matrix’s tiny face split into a grin and he stifled a chuckle as he turned back to his navigation desk. His paws swiftly keyed in the co-ordinates.



“I guess it doesn’t really matter then.” Macro leant back against the ribombee’s chair and frowned at the pachirisu. “First thing’s first, we’re gonna have to give you a name.”



“My name is Download Database,” she said.



“Not for long.” He brought up the commands on his phone and scanned over them. “Let’s see. Rename Download Database Zero Zero One.”



“Understood,” she said. “Awaiting new name.”



Macro looked back up at her, meeting those lifeless, chocolate eyes. It felt no different than giving a name to a stuffed animal. What on earth was he going to call her? Download Database was too much of a mouthful and he was growing tired of it. He scratched at his scar and fixed his attention on the wall to his right.



“Let’s see,” he muttered. “How about… DL?”



An acronym, of sorts. At least it was shorter.



“Rename Download Database as DL?” she asked.



“Yes.” He closed the file on his computer and stuffed it back into his pouch. “DL.”



“Understood. Download Database Zero Zero One is now known as DL.” Her huge eyes closed in a rather long blink and she stared at him for a moment. “You appear calmer. That is good.”



He waved her off and climbed into his seat beside Anchor, kicking his feet up onto the dashboard.



“Why DL?” Anchor asked.



“Because I wanted to pick two letters from her codename,” Macro answered. “And I didn’t like DD.”



“Fair enough,” Anchor grumbled.



“Prepare us for takeoff, Matrix,” said Macro.



“We’re leaving?” DL shuffled over to him. “Do you want me to go into standby for the journey?”



“Nah, you’re good.”



“Then can I at least be of service? I have good navigation abilities.”



“We already have a navigation officer,” said Macro. “Maybe you could help Cookie in the kitchen? Besides, you might like this trip. We’re going to get your memories.”



“My memories? But… they’re useless junk data. They’ll only serve to clutter my databases.”



“Yeh, well-”



A beep came from his pouch and he lazily brought up the details on his optical display, stifling a yawn. A message from Surge… another push of the button on his ear piece opened it and he let out a low groan.



‘If you’re going to repay me with that date, then we’d better go now. I have to leave before sunset, and I’ve no idea how long I’ll be.’



“Delay take off.” He leapt from his seat and trotted out of the cockpit.



“Where are you goin’?” Anchor called after him.



“It’s business. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. DL, I’m leaving Anchor in charge.” He grinned at the other pirate and gave him a mock salute over his shoulder.



“I’m afraid helping Cookie is not an option,” DL told the granbull. “He threatened to cook me last time.”



Anchor sighed and his seat creaked as he leant his weight back into it.



Macro leapt from the exit hatch and almost landed on the zigzagoon. She took a step back and grinned at him, but something was missing. A sparkle? She didn’t look right, anyway.



He straightened his back and leant against the blue hull of his ship.



“You wanna go back to Moonlight Lounge?” he asked.



“I was thinking more an outdoor session this time.” She linked her arm in his and steered him off the docks. “Crispy Crepes is a nice spot at this time, I hear.”



“That sounds like more ice cream,” he said. “I think I’m still recovering from my ice cream coma.”



“Then what do you suggest?” She fixed him with a small smile.



“Cornn dogs,” he said. “Dockside does some good ones. You should try their shuca and babiri berry sauce.”



“Well… you’re buying.”



He grit his teeth together and steered her along the docks towards a stand with a red neon sign that said ‘Dockside Dogs’. The plusle and minun brothers moved back and forth behind the counter, serving up cornn dogs into pre-cut rolls and slapping berry dressings on top of them to satisfy their hungry customers.



Macro narrowly avoided an aggron’s large feet and pushed Surge ahead of him into the queue. When he was a hatchling, his mother had always told him a gentlemon puts ladies first, but he’d never really had time for that nonsense to put it into practice. At least he’d not forgotten it.



He leant back against the crowd control rail and cast Surge a sideways glance. Rather than eyeing up the menu she stared out at the vast deep blue outside the dome, her eyes distant as she watched a golden magikarp ship trundle into the docks.



“Something on your mind?” he asked.



“Hmm?” She looked round at him then forced a smile as she stared back out at the sky. “Oh. Not really. I just have a new mission to get to, that’s all.”



His muzzle crinkled into a frown but he occupied himself with moving forward in the queue. After the slightly overweight gabite, they were next.



“That’s why you’re in such a rush then?” he asked. “Must be pretty important.”



“It’s completely confidential, that much I can tell you.” She joined his side and nodded up at the menu. “Chople and salac for me, please.”



Macro reached into his pouch for his credits and snorted. “That’s a weird-*** combination.”



“And shuca and babiri isn’t?”



“Nope. Babiri makes it super spicy and takes an edge off the bitterness. One of the perks of living with a chef.”



He placed their orders and watched as the two small rodents busied themselves in preparing the freshly fried cornn dogs. He found himself wondering what remarks Download Database would come up with if she witnessed the spectacle. She’d probably bristle at the sight of all the grease and the plusle and minun’s grimy uniforms.



The minun handed them their orders and wiped his paws on his apron before calling for the next customer.



Macro strolled away towards the dock rail and leant forward on it as he tucked into his cornn dog. They’d gone a little heavy on the babiri and it made his tongue tingle. It tasted like spite. Yet another space pirate who was envious of his hefty price tag.



Surge let out a satisfied sigh and licked sauce from her lips. “You weren’t wrong.”



Macro grunted. “I can’t believe you’ve never been there. How long have you lived here?”



“I don’t live here,” she said quietly. “I’m a mercenary. But if you must know…” She shifted so she was facing him. “About a month.”



“Let me guess. You lurk about until you spot your target and try to catch them when they leave?”



“Exactly.”



He took another bite of his meal, trying to ignore the burning heat that filled his mouth. There was something nagging at him about this zigzagoon. Why be so open with him about being a mercenary? Especially one who targeted space pirates. He stared at his cornn dog, watching as the sauce trickled over the bun and onto his paws. A mercenary who chose a target and tried to catch them when they left Pulse City…



“It was you.” He launched the remains of his meal into the nearest trash can, startling a nearby weedle. “It was you who followed us!”



She sighed and leant forwards on the rail.



“You’re plannin’ on turnin’ me in.” Despite his blistering rage, he kept his voice low. He folded his arms and sneered. “Is that what all this is? Some kind of trick?”



She shook her head. “It’s no trick.”



“Then what is it, Surge?”



“I don’t know. One minute I’m trying to catch you, the next I’m taking out one of those government ships.”



His jaw fell open. Words wanted to form but they died before they could even string sentences in his mind. That torpedo… she’d fired it?



“I… really need to get to this job. At this rate they might not pay me.” She pushed herself back from the rail and ran a paw over her ears. “Listen… thanks for the dinner and… date.”



Macro stared after her, his mouth agape. Her ragged tail hung limply behind her, trailing over the ground. She’d fired the torpedo. Why on earth would a mercenary hired to round up pirates fire at a government fleet? He ran a paw over his face and trudged back to Wildcard Gamma. Things were just getting more and more confusing and it was giving him a headache.





Tracer strolled through the toxic streets of Server City, his paws shoved into his trench coat pockets. Every breath he took was amplified in his own ears by his mask’s noisy filters. The breeze caught in his open grey coat and it billowed out behind him, almost catching his small eevee companion. Widget didn’t flinch, however. His attention was fixed on their surroundings, keeping an eye open for trouble makers. Server City, like the rest of Meta City’s outskirts, was home to the majority of System’s poison pokemon. Dark types also called it home, but they preferred to lurk around Spool City after a feud with Proxy’s muk and grimer gangs.



The delphox checked his pocket computer once more, making sure he’d got the address right. This was where Socket wanted him to be, he was certain. He looked up at the squat, grimy buildings and unkempt abandoned office towers and frowned.



“Something wrong?” Widget’s voice was muffled by his mask.



“I’m just making sure I’ve got the address right,” Tracer answered.



“Croagunk right?”



“Yes. But they like damp places.” Tracer placed his computer back into his pocket and stared up at the high rise building perched between a convenience store and a boarded up unidentifiable shop. “Why would he live in an apartment block?”



Widget shrugged his shoulders which gave a small, mechanical whine. “Lack of options?”



“Well.” Tracer reached into his thick tail and pulled out his wooden stick. A small flame ignited at the end as it touched the air. “Let’s just hope he’s not got backup.”



“Oh, I’m prepared for backup.”



Widget laughed heartily and took a step back as Tracer powered a psychic blast through his flaming stick. The door flew inward off its hinges and he strolled inside with Widget close behind him.



The apartment block was dingy and stunk of amonia and mildew. Maybe it was damp enough for a croagunk after all?



The low lighting made it difficult to see, and Tracer’s flame cast flickering shadows along the heavily graffitied walls. As they climbed the stairs, one of the lights flickered on and off erratically, creating a grating noise as the bulb struggled to stay lit.



“What floor is it?” Widget asked.



“Third.” Tracer replied while dodging a suspicious puddle.



As they climbed the stairs to the third floor, something moved on his peripheral vision. He glanced back over his shoulder at a small, green bug pokemon slowly dropping on an invisible thread. A spinarak, likely fallen out of his web while he slept. He kept a cautious eye on the spider pokemon, watching it rotate slowly in the air.



Two of the third floor corridor lights were broken, leaving only the central point lit up. The worn and battered doors, each one coated in spray painted slogans and artwork, made the rooms behind them look abandoned. All except the third one along on his left. Light leaked out from underneath it and he could hear someone moving around inside.



Tracer paused by the door and rapped a paw on it.



“Who’s there?!” a voice growled out at him.



“Santa Paws!” shouted Widget.



Tracer raised an eyebrow at the eevee who returned it with what he could assume was a grin since it made his eyes sparkle. The door was thrown open and a croagunk pointed a laser straight at the detective’s face.



“Dontcha think I’m too old to be belivin’ in Santa Paws?” The amphibian narrowed his eyes and cocked his weapon.



Tracer sighed and readied another psychic blast from his stick, but before he could fire it, Widget launched himself at the croagunk into a full-body take-down. The two pokemon rolled across the floor of his apartment, crushing wrappers and other trash until they hit the far wall.



The delphox kept his stick raised as he followed them into the room. Widget stood above the fallen croagunk, his eyes alight with glee. As usual, the eevee hadn’t taken so much as a scratch from the collision. His skeletal modifications had absorbed the shock perfectly.



“Well,” said Tracer. “I can count on you to get a job done, can’t I?”



He reached into his pocket for his cuffs.



“What’s goin’ on in ‘ere?”



The two detectives looked up at the door, meeting the frown of a scrafty. His red mowhawk-like fin had a green tinge to it and his face was covered with a cheap surgical mask. Its efficiency showed in his labored, rattly breathing. His large eyes went to the croagunk and then flashed with rage. Within two strides he was almost on top of the two detectives.



Tracer flicked his stick round and pulled its hidden trigger. A flash of sparkling pink light fired out of the end of it, lighting up the dingy apartment. The scrafty flew back from him and landed in a crumpled heap in a pile of poffin wrappers.



“Dang it, Tracer,” Widget sighed. “Couldn’t leave him to me, could you? Had to use your flippin’ gun.”



The eevee gave his stick a begrudging glance then moved over to the fallen pokemon. His loose trouser-like skin had fallen down around his knees and revealed part of his tail.



“We taking them both in?” Widget asked.



“Socket only wants the croagunk.” Tracer snapped his cuffs onto the amphibian’s wrists and hoisted him over his shoulder. “Cover me in case any more thugs show up.”



“Sure thing!”



Widget trotted from the room and glanced up and down the corridor before making for the stairs. He froze at the bend and frowned.



“Drat.”



Tracer paused behind him and stared down at the ocean of spinarak. If that little green bug had been sleeping, it definitely wasn’t any more. And its entire family stared up at them from a sea of tiny, black eyes. Towering over the small spiders and flexing its mandibles was an ariados.



Tracer raised his stick and the flame flared. “Get ready to run.”



“It’s party time!” Widget laughed and threw himself into the air. “Just don’t burn my tail, okay?”



The tiny eevee crashed down onto the bug pokemon, the vibrations shaking the stairs. He pounced from bug to bug until he reached the next flight of stairs. Before Tracer could reach him, the ariados lunged at him, her jaws pulled back in a hiss.



“Terribly sorry, ma’am.” The delphox unleashed a flamethrower, blowing the arachnid back down the corridor. “But you’re interfering with police work.”



Tiny feet rapped across the wooden floor as the remaining spinarak gave chase. Threads shot from their mouths and struck the walls where they clung like glue, narrowly missing Tracer’s bushy tail. Some of the spinarak used the threads to propel themselves past him and two landed just before him before launching more threads right at his face. He ducked, but one of the string shots caught his wrist and yanked his paw free from the croagunk, sending the unconscious amphibian to the ground.



The spinarak chuckled and threw itself towards him, poison dripping from its jaws. Widget’s brown blur struck the bug mid-air and crashed it into the wall, sending chips of plaster raining down onto the floor.



Tracer beat white dust from his coat then scooped up the croagunk.



“That was a narrow escape,” he told Widget.



“Sacrifice speed for strength.” Widget strolled past him and gave him a quick glance over his shoulder. “It’s served me well so far.”



Tracer shook his head and followed the eevee from the apartment block. He gave the croagunk a pat on the shoulder then sheathed his stick.



“I’m afraid, young chap, that your hacking days are over.”

Macro strolled into the cockpit and adjusted his goggles which had become askew at some point during their frantic get-away from Scanner City. Matrix twisted in his seat and fixed him him with a somewhat blank yet curious stare he felt only the ribombee could manage.



“Did you get it?” Matrix asked.



Macro smirked and reached into his pouch, and pulled out the five tiny disks.



Matrix’s large eyes widened and he took them. “You got them all?”



“Nope. But one of them has to be it.” He eyed DL’s wooden crate and frowned when he saw her huddled up inside. “What’s she doing in there?”



“Sleeping.” Matrix thumbed through the disks then slipped one into his pocket computer. “I’m gonna check them all. We don’t want to fill her with useless data. Where’s Anchor?”



“Raiding Cookie’s medical berries. He got hit by a toxic from a kommo-o.”



The ribombee looked at him over his shoulder. “Is he all right?”



“He should be. He just needs some pecha berries and a good rest.”



“Huh.” Matrix turned back to his computer. “You look pretty beat up yourself.”



Macro absently rubbed at the marks on his neck and flinched. It still felt sore. So did his shoulders and upper back.



“Those fighting types put up a fight,” he said. “I might see if a shower fixes it.”



“It might, but it won’t make your fur grow back.”



Macro faltered in the doorway and cast a glance back at the ribombee. How much fur had he lost?! He rushed to the shower room and paused before the mirror, and tutted. Matrix had been over-exaggerating. The long fur beside his face had been singed slightly and around his upper arms had been singed black, with just a small patch by his elbow completely burned away. The black would wash off after a shower and just look a little tatty for a while.



He pulled his scarf off, flinching as the movement seared his shoulders. It sported a considerable tear where the primeape had clawed him, and given it’s dark colour it was difficult to see if it had any blood stains. Frustrating. He was beginning to run low on scarves. He tossed it onto a chair with his goggles, belt and lasers and switched on the shower, letting the hot, lavender-scented water cascade over him.



It stung the scratches on his throat and he screwed his eyes shut, letting himself sink down on the tiled floor. The hot water soothed the throbbing that had started in his shoulders and back. He’d taken way too much of a beating, and not just from other pokemon’s attacks but his own. Some of those fighting types were heavy. Throwing them was a task in itself. But the sheer number of them… If it weren’t for Anchor, he likely wouldn’t have come out of that brawl alive. Law or not, primeape and mankey weren’t known for their merciful outbursts. When they rampaged, they did so violently. The best case scenario, he’d be thrown behind bars and whichever pokemon handed him in would be rolling in his bounty while Scanner City were awarded a badge of honor.



He ran a paw over his aching head and watched as the black marks were washed to a pale brown. That bounty… the only reason he had it was because he was the face of Wildcard Gamma. Nothing he’d done could have been accomplished on his own. He was small but gutsy. Many dragon, dark and fighting types feared him because they couldn’t do anything to him. He didn’t have Anchor’s physical strength or Matrix’s intelligence. He just knew how to aim and fire a gun, how to pick locks, how to be sneaky. It was all typical pirate stuff. The only reason his reward was so high was because he’d annoyed Socket… on more than one occasion. One instance wasn’t even planned. To this day he could still see that fire, see himself fleeing as though he was nothing more than an onlooker.



He didn’t know how long he sat there, letting the heat from the shower soothe the pain away. As he stood back up, water flowed from his long fur and soaked the floor as he shook himself dry. Violently enough to shake those thoughts away before he left the washroom.



He swung by his room to grab another scarf and wound it around his neck and shoulders as he strolled back into the cockpit.



“Still no sign of Anchor?” he asked Matrix.



“He poked his head around the door to say he was going to bed.” The ribombee looked up at him and wound a paw into his antennae. “You were in there a while.”



Macro shrugged and reached for one of the tiny disks. “Did you find out which one it is?”



“Yup.” Matrix picked one up, the one that didn’t have a number inked on it. “This one. It’s full of jargon and doesn’t have a title or anything. But from what I can understand of computer code, it’s definitely to do with her.”



He nodded towards the pachirisu and Macro looked around at her instinctively. She was still sleeping, her chest rising and falling softly with her head leaning against the side of the box. He grabbed the jack lead and moved over to her.



“Fire up the disk,” he said.



“You’re waking her?”



“I want to get the ball rolling,” he said. “And I’d rather do it before I head to bed. I’m beat, and I don’t want this looming over me.”



“All right, if you say so.” Matrix turned his seat and stuck the disk into his computer.



Macro grabbed DL’s shoulder and shook her gently. “Hey. Wake up.”



Her eyes fluttered open and, as usual, she rubbed a paw over them and fixed him with her blank, chocolate brown stare.



“My internal clock tells me it is not morning,” she said. “Is there an emergency? I hear no alarm.”



“It’s not an emergency.” Macro reached behind her neck with the jack lead. “I just need to download something onto you.”



“My faculties do not allow that,” she said. “It will compromise my programming.”



“Tough. You belong to me. Co-operate.”



She fixed him with a sideways stare as he pushed her forwards to plug the jack into the socket at the base of her skull. Matrix buzzed over to them and placed the USB end into his pocket computer.



“This should only take a moment.” He scratched the base of his antennae and frowned at his computer. “I really hope this works.”



He tapped the computer screen and DL’s chocolate gaze broke as her pupils became impossibly wide. Macro sat back with one paw on the floor, staring at the pachirisu in horror. They hadn’t just killed her? He shook his head, his mouth unable to form words.



Matrix caught his attention with a sideways glance. “It’ll take five minutes.”



Macro reached up and groped for the bug’s computer. “Stop it!”



“I can’t stop it,” Matrix said calmly. “I’m uploading data. It’ll end up corrupting if I break it off now.”



Corrupting… All Macro could do was watch DL helplessly as she slumped forward on her knees, fixing the wall of her crate with a blank, unseeing stare. His heart hammered behind his ribs. She was alive. Empty, but alive. If they killed her trying to give her back her memories, then he could add the highest of crimes to his already extensive list.



Then watch his bounty double again. Even the worst of pirates wouldn’t stand for that crime. Everyone would be after his head.



DL’s eyes fluttered again and refocused, lighting up briefly as she came back to reality. She stretched and yawned widely as though waking up from a deep sleep.



“I think we’re done,” said Matrix. “You can disconnect her now.”



Macro gave him a wary glance then reached over to remove the jack lead. DL didn’t so much as flinch. Had it even worked?



“I appear to have received an update,” she said. “My processes are flagging it as ‘junk data’. Quarantining.”



“No!” Macro grabbed both her shoulders and turned her to face him, fixing his violet eyes on hers. “Do not quarantine it!”



She blinked a couple of times then nodded. “This update appears to be important to you. Understood. Force-stopping quarantine.”



He fell back onto his bottom and let out a sigh, running his paws over his face.



“I need a good sleep,” he said. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”



“Likewise.” DL shuffled back into her crate. “Sleep is necessary for optimum cognitive function.”



He watched her as she shifted to get comfy and leant her head against the side of the crate. Crate. She was still sleeping in that splintered eyesore of a crate.



“Come with me,” he said. “I’ll sort you a room. We have two spare.”



She looked up at him with what he thought might have been confusion, but her eyes were still blank. “A room? My box is ample room enough.”



“It isn’t,” he said. “You need a bed, just like any other pokemon.”



“I’m a computer. Do you give your computer a bed?”



“Don’t get snarky with me, DL.”



“I don’t understand snarky. It was merely a question.”



He grabbed her paw and tugged her to her feet. “You’re having a room like a normal pokemon. Now come with me.”



He exchanged a flustered glance with one of Matrix’s curious ones and dragged the pachirisu from the cockpit. Wildcard Gamma contained six bedrooms, four of which were occupied. Loud snores came from the first room on the right, beside the washroom. Cookie preferred to be there as he could quickly wash up before he entered the kitchen. Only his alarm could wake him. Macro often wondered if he could sleep through a blitz since he’d slept through horrific turbulence that woke the rest of the crew and had them in a panic, but if his alarm went off he’d be up and cooking within ten minutes.



Macro stopped at the room opposite his and pushed the door open. A quilt lay folded on the bed, its former white now a musty grey. He grabbed it and shook it out, sending a cloud of dust into the air. He coughed and turned his head back, and DL let out a small sneeze from the doorway. She wiped a paw over her nose and looked from him to the duvet.



“I can sort this out,” she said. “It’s okay.”



“No.” Macro let the quilt fall to the floor and moved over to the bed, tugging the draw open. He rubbed at his shoulder then pulled out a blue and white quilt cover. “I’ll deal with it. It’s the least I can do after letting you sleep in a box.”



“Crate,” she corrected. “And it was what I came in. I was happy there.”



“You wouldn’t know happy if it leapt up and smacked you on the nose,” he said. “But we’re working on that.”



He tossed a pillow case onto the bed and started stuffing the quilt into the cover. DL moved over to the bed and joined him, placing the pillow inside the case. His shoulder complained again and he stopped to rub at it, clutching the quilt in one paw.



“You appear to be in pain,” she said. “You should lie down.”



He grunted and returned to stuffing the quilt cover, but she took it from his paws and set it on the bed.



“I can help,” she said. “I know basic back massage.”



“Not a chance! Besides, I don’t allow girls in my room. Gentlemon’s pride.” He reached for the quilt, but she beat his paws aside. He narrowed his eyes in a leer. “Seriously, DL!”



She picked it up, keeping her eyes on him as she neatly straightened out the quilt. “You don’t need to be in your own room for a massage. Even the floor would suffice. Besides, I can continue here. I know what I’m doing.”



“Whatever.” He raised his paws and moved from the room. “Do what you want. I’m going to bed.”



He stormed across the hall to his own room and slammed the door. That pachirisu… he fell face first onto his bed and groaned. All they’d gone through for that disk and it had made virtually no change to her whatsoever. Junk data. That’s what she’d called it. Was it even worth continuing? He seriously doubted it.



Five disks. Five disks of ‘junk data’. Was there a chance Matrix was wrong and they’d obtained the wrong one?



He heard his door open and soft paws pad across the room. He cracked an eye open, fixing on the white torso of the ‘living computer’.



“I thought I told you I don’t allow girls in my room,” he said.



“The door is open,” she replied. “Besides, you said ‘do what you want’, and I want to help you. It’s in my programming to serve.”



“Persistent, aren’t you?” He let out a sigh and closed his eye. “Fine. If it’ll shut you up.”



The mattress sank beside him and she brushed her paws over his back, shifting his scarf out of the way.



“I didn’t think mawile had stripes,” she said. “But you have two. Such anomalies are not in my files.”



He cracked an eye open, but he couldn’t see her from the angle she was sat at. Two brown, horizontal stripes like a pikachu. His scarf usually covered them. He gave a shrug and let his eye close again.



“It’s a birthmark,” he said flatly.



“Oh, I see. I’ll make a note of that.”



He began to mutter something under his breath but it was cut off as she dug into his shoulders. He grit his teeth together, but the pain ebbed away in seconds as his sore, tense muscles relaxed. He nuzzled into his pillow, and as she moved her way down his back he found it hard to focus on the issue of those disks any more. His mind went blank, and he instead drifted off into a deep sleep.





The cell gate slammed shut and the croagunk pushed himself up onto his knees, fixing the delphox with a leer.



“I told you I did nothin’!” he roared.



“That’s not what I was told.” Tracer leant back against the opposite wall and stared at the frog pokemon through the bars. “Your pocket computer’s number came up. The hacking was traced back to you.”



“But it wasn’t me!”



“Can’t help you. Evidence is evidence.”



“You just don’t believe me ‘cos I’m a poison type!” said the croagunk. “You posh psychic types are all the same! Snobby do-gooders! You have a death wish walkin’ through the outskirts, delphox.”



“So you’re saying you’re not a do-gooder?” Tracer tutted softly as he shook his head. “Not exactly helping your case, are you?”



The croagunk pulled his lips back in a snarl and Tracer rolled his eyes.



“Like I said, I can’t help you. I’m not in charge any more. You’re out of my paws.” Tracer kicked back from the wall and waved a dismissive paw. “Appeal to your attorney.”



“You think I can afford a freakin’ attorney?! I live in the outskirts!”



The croagunk’s rant faded as the door to the cells shut. Tracer exchanged glances with Widget and the eevee beamed, creasing the neon green microchip pattern around his left eye.



“Same old sob story, eh?” he asked.



Tracer shrugged and leant against the wall as he lit up a cigar.



“They always plead innocent,” he said. “I just worry what might happen if one of them is actually crying the truth, and no one will listen.”



Widget shrugged his shoulders. “That might have happened a billion times already and we’d never know.”



“Poor kid can’t even afford an attorney.” Tracer blew out a cloud of smoke and looked back over at the closed door. The prisoner’s shouts were muffled and incoherent through that iron structure. “Nothing in place for him to gain one either. They only take a guaranteed payment, so it’s Socket’s word against his. He’s screwed.”



The eevee’s nose crinkled in thought and he shrugged again. “Oh well. Back to the slums for us then, eh?”



Tracer grunted and stubbed out his cigar on the wall before popping it into his trench coat pocket. He pulled out their masks and fastened his back over his face, making sure there were no gaps around the rubber edging before following the eevee towards the air lock.



When it opened, air blew out through a vent, keeping all the toxins between the main doors and those that separated them from the toxic streets of Proxy City. Meta Prison had stood in the outskirts for many years, serving as a threatening monument that kept crime down in that particular city. The other two outskirts were a nightmare in comparison.



Tracer looked up at the dingy, grey building. Behind it rose one of the bright chrome and white skyscrapers of Meta City and the branches of one of the capital’s many mechanical trees. One would think the edge of Proxy City would be cleaner than the rest. How the capital was cleaner than the outskirts that stood so close to it was a mystery. Those trees did their job, but they did it in a very localised fashion.



He turned his back on the prison and joined Widget across the road where he sat waiting patiently. His eyes sparkled up at him through his mask and he fell beside the delphox’s side, keeping pace with him all the way back to Spool City. It was a long walk. One that made him glad of his companion and his trusty laser stick.





When Macro opened his eyes again, the room felt bright. Soft sunlight flowed through his blind and he slowly pushed himself up. His shoulders complained, but not as much as they had been doing the previous evening. He rubbed at his left shoulder and turned, and his sheet fell down over his hips. He fixed it with a raised eyebrow. Definitely no recollection of having pulled it over himself when he fell into bed. It must have been DL…



He looked over at the closed door and kicked the sheet off. Even if she had covered him over, he was still wearing his scarf and belt, although both his lasers had been set on his night stand. He popped them both back into their holsters and strolled from his room, stretching as he entered the hallway. Refreshed, not the slightest bit groggy. It had been a good night’s sleep, he couldn’t deny that.



The sweet smell of pancakes flowed from the kitchen, drawing him in like a beacon. He fell into his usual spot at the table, near oblivious to the pachirisu who’d taken up Matrix’s spot opposite him yet again. He reached for the steaming pile of pancakes and froze, fixing her with a confused look out of the corner of his eye.



“Sleep well?” she asked.



“Yes?” The hesitation in his voice seemed to take her by surprise.



“Are you asking or telling me?”



“I slept fine.” He slipped two pancakes onto his plate and reached for the cheri sauce.



Anchor held his heaped fork just before his mouth as he looked from the living computer to Macro and back.



“Have I missed something?” he asked.



“Nothing.” Macro poured the sauce onto his pancakes. “Isn’t Matrix joining us this morning?”



“Ooh, the night owl came in here just as I started cooking!” Cookie grabbed his own plate, already stacked with pancakes and butter. “I often wonder if he even sleeps.”



“He sleeps,” said Anchor. “And snores. I’m in the room beside him, I should know.”



“So long as we’ve all slept well, that is good.” DL reached over for the plate of pancakes. “I understand you are not all computers, but the brain does need to shut down and recharge otherwise you might crash.”



The three space pirates watched the pachirisu as she poured cheri sauce over her breakfast. Cookie trembled so violently the berry atop his head jiggled from side to side. She lifted a fork of fluffy pancake dripping with sweet, red sauce and popped it into her mouth. Macro visibly flinched, expecting another outburst of lectures, and Cookie’s chair dragged across the floor as he scooted as far away from her as his distance from his plate would allow.



DL’s eyes lit up and she leant back in her seat with the fork still in her mouth. She threw herself back towards her plate and began devouring the cheri-soaked pancakes with a vigour that almost put the slurpuff to shame.



“Erm…” Macro tapped the side of his plate with his fork and glanced at the granbull and chef, exchanging equally confused expressions. “Are you okay, DL?”



“Hmm?” She looked up and wiped cheri sauce from her cheek. “Yes. Why?”



“You just… seem to be enjoying your breakfast.”



“Quite a lot,” Cookie added. “You might give yourself indigestion at this rate.”



“Oh.” She looked back down at her plate and loaded her fork up again. “I’m sorry, cheri berries are my favourite. I’ll slow down.”



Favourite…



Macro stared at her in bewilderment. She had a favourite? After her lecture about sweets the previous day, she now had a favourite? He chuckled and caught a small grin from Anchor before they both tucked into their own breakfast.



A favourite… so the memory disk had worked. It wasn’t a lost cause after all.





Surge pulled her tympole ship up outside the huge white mansion in the centre of Meta City. White, clean, with a garden filled with artificial topiaries and grass. Two large mechanical trees stood at either side of the pristine courtyard. The zigzagoon felt it a shame to walk across it, almost worried her feet would leave dirty prints on the pale paving flags that lined the neat pathway. As she reached the door, the two pidgeot standing sentry fixed her with their tiny, black eyes.



“State your purpose,” one of them said.



“Socket requested me,” she said. “My name is Surge.”



The huge bird kept his eyes on her as he spoke into his mouth piece. “Someone called Surge is here for Socket.”



“Ooh!” The voice was oddly shrill, almost bell-like. “She’s cool. Let her in!”



The pidgeot frowned, but it wasn’t aimed at her. He stood aside and pushed the door open with his large wing. She thanked him, feeling both their eyes on her as she strolled inside.



It was equally white with the odd painting along the wall. Not one of them was of a single pokemon, all depicting landscapes of Meta City throughout the decades. The oldest one dated back two hundred years ago, when they first erected the mansion and the mechanical trees. It was titled ‘Cleaning Up Our Act’.



A bell chime reached her ears, growing louder as whatever carried it rounded the corner. She frowned into the foyer, but the only pokemon she could see was a furret sat behind the desk while talking quietly on the phone.



“Surge, I guess?”



She looked down at her feet into the beaming face of a chingling. The tiny bell pokemon barely came up to her knee.



“This way!” He flopped away from her, his tassel-like hair bobbing with each bounce.



He led her around the corner and down another corridor with yet more paintings. Each one was a different area of Meta City, artfully taken so as not to show even the smallest hint of the outskirts. The city’s various pokemon species filled the streets, mostly made up of normal and psychic type pokemon but with the odd dual-type scattered here and there. Nevertheless, each picture had a cheerful air to it. Its cleanness was emphasized as it even depicted the alleyways between the tall chrome and white buildings.



The chingling cleared his throat and Surge froze, looking back over her shoulder. He stood beaming at her from beside an open door.



“Just in here,” he said before flopping inside.



She followed him slowly, peering around the door at the tidy office. A computer desk stood at her right, empty despite the holoscreen glowing brightly in the air. A container filled with pens stood beside it next to an open note pad. Ahead of her sat Socket behind her desk and she looked up as she entered. A gothitelle, her entire black torso covered with white ribbons. Each one was a part of her body, but the ones around her dramatically tufted ears were not. Her red lips curled up in a smile that, despite looking friendly, sent a chill through Surge’s body.



“Come in, come in!” Socket rose and moved over to her, extending a slender black paw. “Surge, right?”



The zigzagoon took her paw and shook it once before the gothitelle let it fall back to her side. She turned away from her and returned to her desk.



“Please,” she said. “Take a seat.”



Surge sat opposite her, giving the room one more glance and spotting the chingling sat by the window at the left of the office, almost hidden behind his own holoscreen.



“As you may be aware,” Socket said, steepling her paws together, “I’ve called you here to run a little errand for me. I do understand you’re a mercenary by trade?”



“Yes.” Surge resisted the urge to lean back in her seat. “But I’m a little curious as to why you would want to hire a mercenary?”



“You hunt pirates.”



The bluntness of her statement almost knocked Surge off her seat.



“I’ve had a problem lately that needs… correcting.” Socket locked her with a sapphire stare. “Lately my databases have been compromised. It started when something was stolen in transit to me.”



Surge’s spine stiffened but she kept her expression blank as she stared back at the gothitelle. Surely she hadn’t traced the hacking back to her? Her paw pads began to sweat and she absently wiped them on her lap.



“I don’t know if you’ve heard about it?” Socket asked.



Surge licked her lips and glanced at the window behind her. “I don’t think it’s been in the news.”



“Oh it has,” said Socket. “Although the contents have been kept secret. Just a notification of a theft of government property by a thief I am sure you’ve heard of. Anyway, what bothers me the most is the data that was taken after. But whether or not the hacker is in contact with the thief is a mystery. He’s behind bars now, I’ve had that dealt with.”



Surge let out a long breath. Her decoy number had worked.



“The job I have for you,” Socket said as she reached for her note pad, “is to help me retrieve this item of mine and put the pirate Macro behind bars.”



“What about the rest of his crew?”



“Oh, you can arrest them if you like, but they’re just goons who follow the lead of a psychopath.”



“Psychopath?” Surge raised an eyebrow.



“Don’t you think so?” Socket’s blue eyes widened with surprise. “His list of crimes is immense. Robbery, arson, con artist, monslaughter… to name a few. That doesn’t add up to a sane pokemon, does it? And to go so far as to steal government property?”



Surge scratched behind her ear. “I guess.”



“Don’t you want the job?” Socket worded it as a question, but the warning note behind it chilled Surge to the core.



“I’ll take any job so long as it pays.”



Socket’s lips turned up into a smile and she turned the note pad so Surge could read it.



“Everything is detailed on here,” the gothitelle explained. “Your pay, should to you take the job, is the forty thousand credit bounty on Macro’s head, plus an extra forty thousand for completing the task. Another twenty thousand will go to Tracer and his group as compensation for loaning you out to me, so you don’t have to worry about them for the time being.”



“So it totals at one hundred thousand credits?” Surge scratched at her ear again as she read over the details.



“As you can see, I’m desperate to get that mawile behind bars. The item he stole from me contains a tracking chip which you can use to retrieve it. For now, I’ve called my soldiers off. They have bigger things to be dealing with right now, and I’d like to keep them in reserves, so this all falls on you. I hope that’s not an inconvenience?” The gothitelle paid no attention to Surge’s apprehensive head shake. “I’ll even loan you a laser that will allow you to incapacitate him.”



“So a ground laser?” Surge looked up to meet the mayor’s eyes.



“I was thinking fire,” said Socket. “Will you take the job?”



Surge looked down at the details again. Arrest Macro… she couldn’t deny it made her feel sick. But a job was a job, and if she turned it down it would only arouse suspicion from the gothitelle. She needed to cover her tracks, and if she was found out to be the culprit behind harvesting that information…



“I’ll take the job,” she said.



“Excellent.”



Socket unlocked a drawer in her desk and pulled out a red laser module. She slid the slender cylinder towards her and Surge took it, turning it in her paws.



“I trust you’re familiar with how those work?” Socket asked.



“Of course.” Surge pulled her own laser out of its holster and opened the back, slipping the fire module inside to join the other two it contained.



“Oh, and one other thing.” Socket leant forward on her elbows and steepled her paws together again. “Macro is wanted dead or alive. For you, Surge, the full payment stands either way.”



Surge looked up with a start. “You mean…?”



“Yes. I imagine that pirate would put up quite a fight.” She leant back in her seat and folded her arms. “So if it comes to it, don’t be afraid to kill him. You’ll still get every last credit.”



“But… wouldn’t it still be classed as murder?”



Socket shook her head slowly. “We’re going to kill him anyway. You’d just be saving the authorities a job. They’ve got a lot to deal with anyway.” She admired her claws and fixed Surge with another chilling smile. “I don’t suppose this will be a problem to you?”



Surge’s mouth had gone dry. She cleared her throat and slid off her chair.



“No,” she said. “I’ll get the job done.”



“I’m glad to hear it.” Socket rose to her feet and moved around her desk to steer Surge from her office. “I’ll be in touch to see how things are progressing. Please don’t let me down. Tracer could only speak highly of you. I expect your best work.”



“One more question,” said Surge. “What is this item you want me to retrieve?”



“Just a computer,” said Socket. “We’ll retrieve it from his ship once he’s out of the way. Don’t worry yourself.”



Just a computer? Surge looked up at the gothitelle, catching another smile off her as she closed the door. A cheerful ‘bye!’ from the chingling echoed through the woodwork as it closed, blocking the office from sight. A light flashed above her and she looked up at the door, noting the blinking red light of one of the flat, black surveillance cameras.



Her paw went to her laser and she turned from the room, fixing her eyes on the exit. It was just another space pirate round up. It wasn’t like she was a stranger to those. Her claw brushed over the smooth trigger and she stormed from the mansion, startling one of the pidgeot as she marched past him down the manicured path.



One hundred thousand credits.



She took a deep, steadying breath as she made a beeline for the gate.



Dead or alive, it was just another round up.

Macro couldn’t even think in straight lines. His mind kept drifting to the updates DL had received. It wasn’t simply the eeriness that surrounded Socket’s probing into time and space that bothered him, but his mind had leapt to the assumption they could send something to her to remove her memories again. Of course, without something to store them on then it would be classified as murder. They had no idea Matrix was merely copying the files to her brain, which Macro felt was basically cloning her but that was a matter to worry over for a different day.



What bothered him the most was things no longer felt secure. He felt even less secure about the flickering dot that kept appearing just outside their radar, and his mind was reeling. Socket clearly must want the pachirisu back? She wouldn’t happily leave her ‘living computer’ in the paws of a pirate?



He gnawed on a claw as he glanced over to Matrix’s navigation screen. The ribombee was sat with his head resting on his arms, sprawled out before the screen and watching the red dot as it drifted off their radar yet again.



“Are we any closer to Binary City?” Macro asked.



“We’re close,” said Matrix. “But I’m apprehensive to let you leave with that other ship tailing us.”



“Fire at it?”



“I’m not happy with that either, especially since the last time a ship followed us, it saved our hides.”



DL made a thoughtful noise. “I do not recall that event.”



“You were in your box,” said Anchor.



“I see.” She nodded slowly. “Then it would be unwise of me to offer advise on this situation.”



“You have advice?” Macro asked, rather more surprised than he’d have liked to have sounded.



DL turned her head to look at him. “Oh yes. I’m equipped to plan out tactics to deal with complex situations.”



“Oh really?” He narrowed his eyes slightly and let his paw drop to his lap. “Then go ahead. What’s your advice?”



“Well… when you leave the ship, you always leave Matrix and Cookie on board. So if you were to disembark, then you’d be spread out. The ship would be able to be defended, and you two would be smaller targets. If someone were to plan an attack, they wouldn’t be able to target all of you.”



“Huh. I’d never thought of it like that.”



“That surprises me, to be honest.”



Macro flashed his canines in a scowl. “Is that a jab at my intelligence?”



He chose to ignore the snort that came from Anchor, instead keeping the pachirisu’s oddly honest eyes locked on his.



“I am not equipped to calculate your intelligence,” she said. “But it does seem like common sense to me.”



“Well, maybe you’ve not noticed but Matrix isn’t exactly the best at ship combat,” said Macro. “He’s my navigator. Anchor is the one who deals with combat.”



He gestured a paw towards the granbull who merely shrugged.



“I do my best,” he said.



“Then my next assessment,” said DL, “is that you take Matrix or myself and leave Anchor to deal with the ship.”



“No way!” Macro raised his paws and shook his head. “I know Matrix can kick tail if he wanted to, but like I said. He’s my navigator. As for you, since Socket clearly wants to retrieve you, you stay on board.”



“That isn’t a bad thing,” said DL. “I was made for Socket after all.”



Macro let out a derisive snort. “You have so much to learn, DL.”



“I am equipped with encyclopedias that cover ninety eight percent of System’s history and biology,” she said. “What makes you say I have a lot to learn?”



He raised an eyebrow and his jaw fell open slightly. Even Anchor’s expression reflected his own. With a sigh, he ran a paw over his scar.



“If you’re designed to be connected to BackDoor,” he said, “then why did she feel the need to fill your head with encyclopedias?!”



“Convenience, I assume.”



“This just solidifies my theory that you’re a glorified toy.” He let out a small growl. “Someone needs to kick that gothitelle from one end of System to the next.”



“That is a rather violent solution,” said DL.



“It was a metaphor.”



“Then may I suggest a less violent one for you?”



Matrix chuckled and Macro shot him a glare. The ribombee diverted his attention back to the navigation screen and pushed himself back into his seat.



“I agree with DL,” he said. “You two should just disembark and go looking for the next disk. If she’s equipped to deal with complex situations, then maybe she can work out your weapons system?”



The pachirisu nodded. “That sounds like a sound solution to this dilemma.”



Macro grit his teeth together and swiveled in his seat to face the windscreen. “Fine! Anchor, show her the ropes. Then we’ll drop down into Binary. Matrix.” He pointed a claw at the navigator. “Get us as close to the government facility as possible.”



Matrix nodded and turned back to his screen, bringing up a smaller window to key in the co-ordinates. He let out a small ‘huh’ and gave the mawile a sideways glance.



“I believe,” he began, “that this facility is actually a huge entertainment centre. Cinema screens, gaming arcades, clubs.”



“So it’s not offices?” Macro asked.



“It’s not clear if they even exist, but if they do they’re upstairs. I’ll send the map to you and you’ll see what I mean.” His tiny paws flew across the holoscreen and Macro’s computer beeped. “I used to go to Binary City a lot as a hatchling, and if I’m right then this is one of the places I used to frequent.”



Macro brought the map up on his optical display and groaned. Matrix wasn’t wrong. The facility was huge and contained a multiplex, gaming arcade and even a club or two. Even if he’d wanted to avoid guards at night, there were still going to be obstacles as soon as they stepped paw into the facility.



Anchor nudged him with an elbow. “Hey. Look on the bright side. At least you don’t have to pick any locks.”





Binary City was lit up with bright lights from street lamps to flashing neon signs over casinos and arcades. Music blared from doorways and hidden speakers, each one advertising each individual entertainment centre. Electric pokemon swarmed in the streets, moving from one attraction to the next, oblivious to the two space pirates. Macro nimbly dodged a flaafy clutching a large plush chinchou under one arm as he tried to keep up with his larger ampharos brother. The mawile felt static spread through his horn as it briefly brushed the flaafy’s wool and he reached around to beat it away to no avail. It had already caused his thick, yellow fur to stand on end, making him look like a jolteon hybrid.



“Don’t draw attention to yourself, Cap’n.” The granbull’s voice drew Macro’s eye to him.



Anchor looked over the various signs and animated billboards and his muzzle crinkled slightly at the animation loop of a lopunny swinging a pair of nunchaku above the door to a combat centre. Seeing pokemon using weapons wasn’t unusual given the current state of society, but seeing it shown so boldly, animated or not, was a blatant smack in the face to the government authorities who wanted to ban such things. Considering Binary City held a massive government facility made it unclear whether or not it was a rebellious attitude or mere pokemon type favoritism. After his experience with the electric army at the unnamed building they’d found DL, he was leaning towards the latter.



Yelps and flashes of electricity filled the combat centre and Macro thought he heard the tell-tale whoosh of a water laser firing.



The busy road ended at the entranceway to a huge towering building that spread out on either side to merge with the buildings around it. The top half was filled with small windows that suggested they were either office blocks or apartments. The bottom half’s windows were filled with posters or replaced with animated billboards - the kind that let light in but didn’t let light out and thus destroy the display. Either way, each poster made it clear what the stores contained. Games arcades, trading card arenas, casinos, combat tournament rooms, clubs, karaoke bars… the list went on.



But right beside the door stood a poster with red text contrasting over a yellow back ground. ‘Binary City is a peaceful district. Leave all conflicts to the police force. Breaking this rule will result in a ten thousand credit fine.’



Anchor snorted. “Maybe this won’t be as tough a job as I was fearing.”



Despite the sign’s ‘reassurance’, Macro still felt somewhat uneasy.



They slipped through the door past an overweight electivire enjoying a triple scoop ice cream cone and entered what could only be described as utter chaos. If they’d had any fear pokemon might target them and turn them in, it was swiftly washed away. Electric and normal type pokemon bustled in all directions, many unable to make up their minds where to visit first. Much to his surprise, a few other pokemon types flowed around the building, their large eyes taking in everything it had to offer, paying no heed to any other passers by. Stores displaying panels of the latest collectible cards were surrounded by hatchlings and adults alike. The shrill voice of a tiny eevee begging his jolteon father for the priciest promo card could be heard over the rumble of voices and Macro grit his teeth together. Those games had always gone over his head. Each new set was just another con to draw money out of the most adoring of fans. The fact they could be played on VR machines was an immense feat, and he caught the glimpse of one over the shoulders of a pack of elekid and pikachu watching their sentret friend while a pair of pom-pom oricorio cheered them on.



Macro found the nearest escalator and stood on the moving stairs, watching the crowd shrink below him. Modern electro-pop music boomed from a casino on his right and he let out an involuntary squeak. A holographic chansey waved at him from the doorway, waving a sign that said ‘boost your chance with happy hour’. The music fizzled out and the egg-shaped pokemon closed her eyes and hopped from foot to foot before vanishing into thin air. He turned his back on the door and wound towards the next escalator. The obnoxious music started up again, this time with a different tune, and he caught sight of a holographic meowth tossing coins into the air. Once again, the same sign for ‘happy hour’ flashed above its head showering the pokemon with golden credits.



“This life doesn’t appeal to me at all,” Macro muttered to Anchor.



The pink bulldog pokemon nodded and folded his arms, watching the stores drift by. Neon lights flashed across his purple mohawk, tinting it with all the colours of the rainbow.



Macro distracted himself by bringing up the map, subtly so as not to draw attention to himself (although that wasn’t exactly difficult since everyone else’s attention was on the various amusements). The next disk was held in one of the smaller rooms, but it was difficult to work out what exactly they were. Once again, it was locked away. That was all it said. Locked away. No indication whether it was a safe or merely locked behind a door. The room it was located in was on the third floor. That meant they needed to ride up another escalator.



The second floor was filled with clubs which Macro felt was a bit unfair to those that didn’t have the privilege of living in one of the upstairs luxury apartments and would likely be dragging themselves home after a night out.



The two space pirates faltered slightly before the next escalator. Very few pokemon were using it, and most of the ones that were came down from the one that ran parallel to it. Macro stepped aside as a furret shot past him to head up the stairs, laughing as she threw an apology at an electabuzz over her shoulder. The yellow and black mammal shook his head and leant against the wall of the glass elevator. He fixed the two space pirates with an amused smile and shrugged.



“Women, eh?” he said.



Anchor grunted with agreement and looked after the furret. “Aye.”



“She’d forget her tail if it weren’t attached.” The large electric type frowned slightly and his eye drifted to Macro. “Do I know you?”



“Nope.” Macro tugged at Anchor’s paw and steered him towards the escalator. “We’re new to this establishment.”



“Huh.” The electabuzz folded his arms and smirked. “Well, you should join us for a drink at Chatty Chatot’s later. You seem like just her type.”



Macro hid a grimace behind a smirk of his own and tugged Anchor after him with a mutter of ‘maybe later’. Once they were out of the electabuzz’s view, he let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully that stripy beast hadn’t recognised him from a wanted poster.



He threw open the door at the top of the stairs and strolled out into open air. He blinked his violet eyes in amazement and stared aghast at a stretch of false grass dotted with round plastic tables each one sporting a vibrant sun umbrella. A pair of meowth and a skitty eyed them curiously then returned to their conversation as they enjoyed their tall, pink drinks. Macro stood aside once more as the furret rushed passed him again to return to her friend.



From the outside, he hadn’t seen this balcony. That meant it must have been at the back of the building, hidden from view of the shopping and entertainment streets. His eye wandered to the buildings around them, all of which looked like apartment and office blocks. Although a few of them sported their own posters and bright, animated billboards. Shrill screams reached his ears, almost drowned out by the city noise, and he trotted over to the balcony edge and looked down into the streets. This area of the city was much more suburban and he spotted a group of electric type pokemon standing around a wide river that fed a lake perched in the entertainment centre’s vibrant yet fake garden. A galvantula tugged on an electric web, dragging it out of the water with the help of his bipedal allies. The water dwellers held inside the net flailed and splashed as electricity coursed through their bodies, their vibrant, colourful fins waving in protest. Macro flinched and turned away, clearing his throat as he tried to dispel the wretched image.



Anchor’s paw fell heavily on his shoulder and he briefly looked up at his large friend.



“Let’s see where we’re meant to be going then, hey?” he said.



He checked his map again and let out a small groan. The room was on this floor… that meant the disk was held in someone’s apartment.



That meant this building didn’t hold a single office room. Whoever was in charge of the disk both worked for Socket and lived in Binary City. He frowned slightly as he took in the various apartments and their communal garden. He could only have dreamt of being able to afford a place like this.



He strolled across the balcony, the fake grass soft on his paws like a carpet. Once they were out of ear shot of the three cat pokemon, he looked up at Anchor and shook his head.



“We need to get into one of these rooms,” he said quietly.



Anchor’s ears pricked up with surprise and he looked over at each of the clean, white, numbered doors. Some of them even had hanging baskets filled with silk or painted metal flowers. Real flowers hadn’t grown in System for such a long time that owning real ones was a luxury even for the most wealthy of pokemon.



His map told him the disk was held in the sixth room along. He counted them as he passed and hesitated outside room number twenty six. So much for not needing to pick locks.



“Oi!”



Macro froze and glanced to the side. The voice had sounded oddly robotic. A deep hum of electricity rose to a crescendo and he spotted the metal squat sphere of a magnezone floating towards him with all the speed of a jet. A pack of magnemite and magneton bobbed along beside him and he drifted to a halt behind Macro and Anchor.



Living metal. One of few pokemon that looked like they’d been crafted by pokemon, but they weren’t remotely androids. Like every other pokemon they had internal organs, although these consumed electricity rather than fruit or meat. They had no mouths to speak of, so all their vocalisations came from a hidden speaker on their bodies.



The magnezone narrowed his eyes and aimed his magnets forwards. They were much too big for an ordinary magnezone. Some enhancement he’d had… Macro felt a tug on the steel in his horn. He locked his legs and frowned back at the magnezone.



“What’s your problem?” he growled.



“We’ve been alerted to two space pirates roaming the premises,” the magnezone explained. “My records tell me it is you two. Hunter and one of his crew from Wildcard Gamma. We’re to take you into custody.”



Macro stifled a chuckle but a small smirk tugged at his lips. “So you’re the fuzz? Except… not very fuzzy?”



The magnezone’s eyes narrowed into slits and he increased the pull on his magnets. Macro felt his feet leave the floor and Anchor grabbed him around his waist before he flew into the floating police ‘mon’s grasp.



“There’s no sense in resisting,” the magnezone droned. “You’re wanted dead or alive. Even if we just have to take your head, we will.”



The surrounding magnemite and magneton span in the air, generating an electromagnetic field that almost pulled Anchor off his feet. Macro let out a shrill scream as it tugged on his horn, dragging him closer and closer to the magnezone.



These wretched electric types. His ground laser was useless against magnezone and its family. Their ability to levitate completely countered their weakness to it. He grit his teeth together and tried to catch Anchor with a glare.



“Do something!” he roared.



“If I let go of you, you’ll be whisked away!” The granbull tightened his grip on the mawile’s waist. “Although I’m a bit worried you’re gonna get torn in two at this rate…”



The magnezone muttered something that to Macro was incoherent electronic babble and edged closer to him, grabbing his horn in his magnets. The mawile found himself tugged into the air, wrenching him clean from Anchor’s grip. The pink bulldog cursed loudly and looked around for something to strike the hovering hunk of metal with. But there was nothing. At this height, Anchor couldn’t even strike the magnezone with a fire fang. All he could do was watch helplessly as Macro was lifted away and the other magnet pokemon moved in to surround him, their bodies sparking maliciously.




Surge ducked behind the edge of the apartment housing, her laser clasped in one paw. The magnezone officer had lifted Macro off the ground, holding the flailing mawile two feet over Anchor’s head. The poor granbull’s body jerked as electricity coursed through him.



If the magnezone apprehended the space pirates then she wouldn’t see a single credit. She pulled the laser towards her chest and watched the officers as they did her job for her. The police force, even though linked to Socket, were a separate entity from the Mayor’s officials. She controlled soldiers, not the police. If Surge interfered, then it wouldn’t go too heavily against her.



After all, she had been asked.



All she had to do was catch every single one of them in a blast. If she hit Macro, she hit the magnezone, and took out a chunk of the smaller magnets in the process.



She aimed her laser, keeping both eyes open and locking them on the frantic mawile. She’d heard every word the giant magnet pokemon had said. Dead or alive. They’d have pulled him apart to get the bounty if they had to, but fortunately it hadn’t come to that. His long, yellow fur billowed around him, revealing his slim black legs as he frantically kicked at the magnezone. The sight made her feel sick to the stomach. She pressed a claw to the trigger and the trim of her laser lit up red. Dead or alive…



Her heat lurched into her throat and she shifted her aim, pushing hard on the trigger. A flash of red shot from it, lighting the white walls up with an orange glow. The laser seared through the magnemite and magneton before it engulfed the magnezone, melting his hull away. A deep, electronic screech filled the air and she pressed her paws over her ears, ducking back behind the wall. The magnezone crashed to the ground along with several of his crew, and the remaining smaller magnets buzzed as they shot blindly back through the door to the escalator or flocked over the balcony to the streets below.



Her mouth was dry as she looked back over her shoulder at the massacre. Macro stood beside the fallen magnezone, his violet eyes wide as he looked from the molten pokemon to the direction the attack had come from. She could even see his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. She flinched away from the sight and stuffed her laser back into her belt. Her heart was racing and she placed a paw to her chest, taking steady breaths to try and calm it.



She couldn’t do it… she couldn’t shoot him. Yet she’d so easily taken down the police officer. She let her head fall into her paws and screamed silently into her lap. Shoot the criminal, claim the bounty. It was a simple job. What had got into her?