"Does this mean I have a little Zach inside me?" Cammy asked with eager curiosity, sounding more like her old self than she had in weeks. Miranda seemed at a loss for words. I knew how she felt. Not five minutes earlier, Miranda had, somewhat diffidently, extended the hypothesis that Cammy might be pregnant. Given how much time we spent together, it seemed unlikely that the... condition, if you will, had any other cause beyond me. To be honest, my wordlessness was more out of deference to Cammy than anything else. Inside, I was spending a considerable amount of time cursing Arceus and his enigmatic attitude, because I had had a sudden insight into what his "third gift," the one he'd never explained to me, actually was. Of course-and at this point my lips curved up almost despite myself-many parents had claimed that their children were gifts from God. It was perhaps my ill-fortune that ours probably was.

"Not necessarily," Miranda was saying as I broke from my reverie. "I don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet, and I won't, not with this thing," and she gestured at the diagnostic unit, "for another month."

"That's okay," Cammy assured her brightly. "I don't care. All that matters to me is that it's a baby Zach."

Cammy was taking the news surprisingly calmly (for her, anyway). Beni, who had remained silent up to that point, informed me privately that pokemon were accustomed to having parents of different species; generally, the mother's species was the one the child wound up as, though there were exceptions, and so it was not unusual to have a father of a similar, but different, species. And, since Lucario are humanoid and I'm a human...

It was truly tempting to take the, ah, non-deified explanation for what seemed a miracle, but I just couldn't. Coincidences just flat don't happen, and in two months... then a thought occurred to me.

"Will she... you know, have children in the usual way? Or lay an egg like other pokemon?"

Miranda threw up her hands in exasperation. "How should I know, Zach? I'm a nurse, not a prophet!" She stared down at her instrument, and shook her head. "Sorry," she apologized. "This was a bit of a surprise."

I began to laugh, but cut it off before I started sounding hysterical. "A bit of a surprise?" I shook my head. A tugging on my sleeve caught my attention, and I looked down at Venus. She began a series of complicated gestures, the meaning of which seemed to be: "Is she serious?" I nodded solemnly, and Venus resumed her silent oration, finally looking back at me.

"Venus," I translated for the others, "would like to congratulate us. It seems that she's not surprised in the least."

At this point, it's probably best that I explain something which I've been ignoring for a while. As you probably know, Arceus gave me three gifts when he chose me as his representative. The first was the emblem on the back of my hand, declaring, to those with the understanding to interpret it, that I was in his service and that he would not take it kindly if I were harmed. The second was the ability to understand the speech of all pokemon when it's directed at me. At least, that was the original gift; recently, it had begun to evolve into understanding them even when they speak amongst themselves. The third, you are already aware of my suspicions about.

That said, you may be wondering why Venus still communicates in gestures rather than speaking. It turns out that the various and sundry ways pokemon communicate are as numerous as those we humans use, and frequently as different. Mawile apparently use very few verbal cues, reserving them for communicating urgent warnings when the speaker is not visible to all those needing to hear. Otherwise, they rely on a complex system of physical movements to converse.

"You know, no offense, Miranda," I said thoughtfully, going back to the subject at hand, "it seems like we should get some expert advice."

"No offense taken. Still, where would you get advice from?"

I sighed as I thought about it. There had been only one human adult I had ever felt comfortable confiding in once my mother died. The problem was, did I really want to bring a problem that large to him? Not that he'd balk at it, and I didn't really think he'd be offended or disgusted by my relationship with my team. Indeed, though he might not share my level of experience, he had always claimed that pokemon were easily the equals of humans in terms of sentience, and should be recognized as people in their own right.

"I think," and the words came out hesitantly as I realized there really wasn't much of a choice, "that we should head for the Pokemon Ranger Academy." Miranda raised an interested eyebrow, and in a gesture more felt than seen, Beni's ears tilted forward.

*Jefferson?* she asked, though it wasn't entirely a question. I nodded anyway.

"He's probably the best to ask about this," I explained. "Cal Jefferson," I elaborated for Miranda. She blinked.

"The Academy Director?" she asked cautiously. I nodded again.

"He's the one who brought me to the Academy to begin with. If anyone would be willing to give me a fair hearing, and responsible advice, he's the one."

Miranda nodded, and gathered her things up around her. "Time to break camp, then," she declared. "It's best if we start walking now, if we want to get to him as soon as possible."

"Break camp, by all means," I agreed, "but as for walking..." I shook my head. "I've got a better idea."

* * *

Two hours later, the forest canopy began to vibrate as though a huge gust of wind were blasting through it. I stood up and stretched.

"Alright, Beni," I said, smiling sympathetically at her. "It's time to get in your pokeball." Brave though the Arcanine was, she loathed heights.

*See you later,* she replied evenly. I replaced her pokeball with the others, and Venus took position on my shoulder as always. Miranda looked baffled.

"What's going on?"

"We're hitching a ride," I informed her, unabashedly pleased with myself. As if to punctuate my words, a rope ladder came clattering down from the treetops, and a voice called down.

"Climb aboard," it bellowed, audible even through the rotors of the helicopter. I beamed at Miranda.

"You heard the man," I told her. Cammy was already on her way up the ladder, having eagerly jumped for it as it was falling. I tucked Venus into one of my larger inside pockets so that she couldn't fall, and gestured for Miranda to go ahead of me. Reluctantly, she did so, and I waited out of courtesy until she had vanished into the trees before climbing up myself. I pulled myself up into the open interior of the Ranger scout helicopter with one of the straps bolted to the floor, and the ranger by the ladder hauled it up after me. I gave him a hand, and soon we were moving again.

Cammy was in heaven, and Miranda was going insane trying to make sure she didn't fall out. I took advantage of the distraction to engage our escort in some idle conversation. It turned out he was as confused as the nurse-in-training, and could only tell me that an order for a pickup had come down from the Ranger Academy to his local branch. He was to see us safely to the Goldenrod bullet train, which would take us to Saffron. After that, he informed us, we would be met by a Ranger ready to take us to the Academy. He gave me all of this information with a bizarre deference, the sort a low-ranking official gives someone who is being treated like a higher-ranked official, but who isn't wearing any rank tabs. It was a sort of "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I don't think I'm allowed to decline," tone of voice which would have amused me far more if I wasn't feeling halfway guilty. 

I had called Director Jefferson knowing that the codes-"family matter" was only one of them, signaling a problem I didn't want to discuss over an unsecured line-I had used to get in touch with him would have him already worried on my behalf. Though I had only explained some of the situation, apparently enough urgency had remained in his mind to insist on getting me to him as fast as possible. While I knew this, and had in fact counted on it, there was also a part of me which had noticed that the Director had seemed not only somewhat worried by me, but ill at ease in general, as though he had a lot on his mind. Considering this was a man who could appear in the Crisis Center appearing as though he'd spent hours dressing, grooming, and then had had a full meal and a cup of tea to boot, the idea that things were bad enough to get him looking frazzled had me not a little worried.

Still, my worry did not prevent me from enjoying the ride-I had always enjoyed helicopters, a fact which put me in an elite minority at the academy-or from enjoying Cammy's obvious delight at this new experience. Indeed, her enthusiasm even made the trip more pleasant for me by making me take a step back and look at it from a newcomer's perspective. There's something about flying just above the trees which makes you feel far more free than riding in an airplane miles above the ground. Venus was less enthralled, having huddled into my pocket after only one glance at the ground.

We enjoyed an uneventful trip from Goldenrod to Saffron, though the conductor had been more than a little put out at finding us without tickets, until one of the clerks standing nearby relayed a message from the local Ranger station explaining the situation. After that, though, things were quite simple. Our guide, a fresh-faced cadet who barely looked old enough to shave, met us on the platform, and we piled into one of the Academy's official vehicles.

"You'll enjoy this," I told the others as we rounded the last bend in the road. "Watch out the windshield as we get closer, and you'll see the Academy just sort of rise out of the forest in front of you."

Cammy obeyed instantly, followed somewhat skeptically by Miranda, and Venus had been watching out the window in wonder since we got in. She eagerly redirected her attention as I'd suggested, and I was rewarded moments later by three sharp gasps as my prediction proved accurate. I was a bit impressed myself, since, if anything, the Academy seemed to have grown since I left.

The academy was built like a large upper-half of a pokéball, but silvery-white, with six large towers emerging equidistantly around its rim. From the middle, an even larger tower soared above the others, topped by a wider cylinder which I knew was the Director's quarters and office. It used to be a special area for avian pokemon species, but by the time Jefferson had taken over, I was told that there had been no Rangers with winged partners at the Academy, and Jefferson himself used to comment that people were far less likely to bother him with petty problems if they knew they'd have to climb ten minutes of stairs to get to him.

Taken as a whole, the academy looked like it would be far more at home in a science fiction comic than the real world, and my three companions' responses had been all that I could hope for. I only hoped, with some hesitation, that Jefferson's response would be equally as predictable.

* * *

I needn't have worried. Chief Ranger Jefferson had sat impassively throughout my story. In deference to his years of experience, not to mention the fact that he'd been far more like a father than a teacher or superior to me, I had given him the entire story, from that first night with Beni up until last night, including the bits with Arceus. Even those he took without batting an eye, asking only once to see the symbol imprinted on my hand. Otherwise, he didn't utter a word or react in any way to indicate he was hearing what I'd said. When I'd finished, however, that impression was banished instantly.

"So," he said, slapping one heavy hand on his knee. "So, you finally got yourself a girlfriend-three of them!-and they're all pokemon." He started to chortle as I began to turn red with embarrassment. I was grateful that Miranda had absented herself from this meeting, claiming fatigue. Jefferson had delayed my debriefing until he had seen that she was given a room in the Academy to rest in.

"I can see why you called me," Jefferson continued once he chose to stop laughing. "I think we can get an expert on breeding in to answer your questions without too much publicity." His face hardened slightly. "This Arceus business, though... you've explained a lot of things that have been worrying me lately, but I need your opinion on something else."

"I'm all ears."

In answer, Jefferson picked up a paper from the coffee table and unfolded it before pitching it at me. It was a photocopy of a newspaper article. I read it to myself, and then, in shock, read it aloud to the others.

"Sinnoh League Champion Indicted!" (it began) "Five year Sinnoh Region Champion Cynthia Hawthorne was indicted last Tuesday on charges relating to the abuse of her privileges as Champion. According to sources close to the League, Ms. Hawthorne is accused of using her position to gain access to rare and valuable pokemon, selling them on the black market. The same sources allege that her position was obtained unethically, and she has since employed a series of delaying tactics and distractions to retain it. The latest of these charades was the controversial decision to close the League in order to investigate the Celestic Calamity. Ms. Hawthorne's lawyer was unavailable for comment on these matters, though renowned pokemon expert Professor Rowan released a statement denying that his former protégé had been involved in any unethical activity. A member of the Elite Four's staff, who wished to remain anonymous, responded to this statement: 'Oh, please. Arceus? Darkrai? I mean, nobody really believes they exist, do they? She finally slipped up on her cover stories and gave an excuse which just didn't cut it, and now it's time for a real Champion to step in and set things right.' No other statement was forthcoming from the pokemon professor."

"They can't be serious." I shook my head. "Lucian was there, as was Professor Rowan and the rest of the Elite Four. They all know why Cynthia canceled all League challenges."

"Apparently, most of them, excepting this Rowan fellow, have decided to forget," the Director observed ironically. He raised an eyebrow. "You've met the girl. What was your impression of her?"

I considered that a moment, not wanting to give a hasty response.

"Honest," I said at last. "Dependable. A bit cold, sometimes, but there's a real, feeling, sensitive human under that." I shook my head again. "She seemed to really care about pokemon, too. There's no way she could possibly be involved in something that foul."

*I agree,* Beni added. *There was no deceit in her mind.*

"She's a nice lady," was Cammy's defiant conclusion. "And these people are mean, picking on her like that." 

Venus's contribution was a series of gestures, mostly obscene, which came to the same end as Cammy's statement, and I nodded when she'd finished.

"She's good people," I summarized softly. "Whoever's doing this to her is playing right into Darkrai's hands. The more Darkrai can destabilize the League, the easier it will be to fight us all, if he has to, and the other regions' Leagues are sure to feel some effect from this."

"They already have," Jefferson confirmed. "The joint Kanto-Johto League issued a statement earlier that said that they were currently investigating the actions of all their highest officials." He frowned. "If they have the man I think they do running that investigation, it'll be so thorough that it's bound to find something. If you search any group of people that intensely, you'll find flaws in the best of them." He locked eyes with me. "We'll take care of Cammy," he said firmly. "How do you feel about a mission back to Sinnoh to get to the bottom of this?"

"Pretty damn good," I replied, with a humorless smile.

"Glad to hear it." He picked up a duffel bag I hadn't noticed and chucked it at me. My hands flew up and caught it before I'd realized it was airborne, and the surprising weight of it brought it to a thud on the table. My confusion must have shown on my face. 

"Your uniform and gear," Jefferson announced. "You may have wanted to leave the Rangers, son, but the Rangers never left you and that's the plain truth. You've got a way of getting in the thick of things whether you want to or not, and this time, you're going to do it with all the force I can muster at your back. I think, based on your seniority, you're overdue for a promotion or two."

Life seemed determined to give me culture shock. When I opened the bag and extracted the tunic for my uniform, it had the rank tabs of a Field Commander on it. Jefferson was clearly putting a great deal of trust in my assessments, because a Field Commander outranks every Ranger except other Field Commanders and the Director himself. He was practically guaranteeing that I would be taken seriously by nearly anyone, all on the basis of my claims, backed by my team, that Cynthia was innocent. In fact, judging by the twinkle in his eye, he was prepared to authorize anything up to and including a jailbreak to ensure that the situation was resolved. This impression was confirmed by his next words.

"Your mission, Commander, is to return to the Sinnoh Region, investigate the charges against Champion Cynthia Hawthorne, and, if necessary, ensure that the appropriate verdict is reached. If it is deemed necessary, you will take measures to protect the person of the Champion at all costs." He gave me a stern look. "If you're right, and Darkrai is doing this, then Cynthia clearly has a significant part to play in this saga. I don't consider her expendable." The stern look softened. "Or you, for that matter." He stood, and patted me on the shoulder. "My secretary will draw up the necessary paperwork," he explained. "Get it from her before you leave."

He made to depart, but stopped when he heard my voice. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, about why he'd taken Cammy's pregnancy and my claims about Arceus so calmly, and why he was willing to put so much on the line based on my opinions. The one that actually left my lips seemed to summarize it all.

"Sir? How long have you had this uniform ready?"

"Since you left," he answered with a suspiciously emotional tone of voice, and then left the room. It had never really occurred to me, while I might consider Jefferson to be the closest thing to a father I had, that the childless Director might feel similarly about me.

"But I don't want to be a Ranger," I whined to nobody in particular. Beni gave one of her low rumbling chuckles, and there was somewhat more than a twinkle in her eyes.

*I think you looked quite handsome in that uniform,* she said in a mischievous tone.

"Oh, hush, you." The glare I attempted in her direction didn't last, and I felt the corners of my mouth turn up in an unwilling grin. "Well, I did look pretty good," I confessed. 

*And it's not like you were bad at the job, either. You just got bored with the normal missions,* the Arcanine pointed out. *You have to admit, this mission is anything but normal.*

Rescuing a Champion from her own League? Yeah, that probably maxed out the bizarre-o-meter for missions, at least compared to what I had been getting before I left. Even as I considered all that could go wrong with such an important, and complicated, mission, adrenaline was coursing through me, filling me with the need to be out and doing something. It was like the feeling before a tough battle or contest, and just as addictive and compelling. Without saying a word, I began to change into the uniform. Off came the beloved and battered brown coat, the soft well-worn blue jeans and comfortable shirt. With only slight misgivings remaining, I slipped on the black pants, black and white shirt, and red jacket of a Pokemon Ranger. Underneath them were the regulation gloves and boots, and the utility belt that completed the outfit. Feeling completely different, I examined myself in the mirror.

A stern young man stared back at me, with grim eyes and a visage which could strike terror into the hearts of villains. At least, I wish I could say that, but the reflection which stared back at me still looked like me, with different clothing. I'm not sure what I expected. On the other hand, I didn't feel uncomfortable, either. Though I hadn't worn the uniform in years, putting it on felt like embracing a long-lost friend. I shook my head.

"I'll be bursting into tears and refrains of the Academy anthem if I keep this up," I muttered. Beni, having followed all my thoughts, chose to say nothing.

See, while the story that I had told Cynthia was accurate, I had lied a bit about when I'd left the Rangers. The incident with Claire was only the beginning of my career, and by the time that I'd left, I had had a modestly successful two years, marred by failures in boring missions. As one of my instructors put it, I do great work when I'm interested, and do nothing when I'm not. This is not, by and large, a good thing for a Ranger, but it was not a problem for a Coordinator. Still, by training and by experience, I was a Ranger, and it looked like Jefferson had planned all along to make me accept that. And I have to admit, what boy-and all men are still boys at heart, don't be fooled-could resist playing the part of the solitary hero?

Now, if I could only count on getting the pay that went with the position...

* * *

The Director's secretary didn't comment on my changed appearance, though she smiled more warmly at me than she had when I came in as she handed me a manila envelope.

"Briefing materials are in there, along with your new identification," she told me. "The Director wanted you to stop by the research and development division and get your equipment updated before you leave, but he also left firm instructions that you were to sleep at the Academy tonight and leave tomorrow morning."

"Understood." I winced internally as the word came out clipped and cold. "Thank you," I added, in something more like my normal tone. I gave her a wry grin. "This takes a bit of getting used to."

"Don't worry," the woman replied with a wider smile. "I understand completely." To be honest, I rather doubted she did, but to say so would be discourteous at best. Instead, I thanked her again and left, tucking the envelope under my arm. I dismissed Beni and the others to go and settle into the rooms provided for us. Perhaps half an hour later, I was down in R&D, where a very disgruntled-looking technician was looking over my pokedex and several bizarre items.

"What did you do to this thing?" the man asked, indicating the pokedex. I considered the adventures I had had since I left the academy, and grinned at him.

"The better question is probably what I didn't do to it," I confessed. "It's been dropped down stairs, fallen on, kicked, stolen, returned, beaten..."

"I get the picture." The technician frowned at me. "You realize how much work this is going to take, right?"

"Yeah. Pop the A1-Gamma chip from the CH-39 slot, place it in a new unit, soldiering points 1, 13, and 19," I recited from memory. "Should take about ten minutes." He winced.

"You field-types aren't supposed to know how to fix these," he grumbled. "It's hard to get you to feel apologetic when you don't think it's a ten-hour job."

"Oh, trust me, I feel plenty apologetic. Not, however, particularly embarrassed." I shrugged. "It's been with me for nearly five years, man. What do you expect?"

"Oh."

I winked at him. "I used to work in tech," I confided. "I think, when you open the 'dex up, you'll find it's not nearly as bad as it looks." He grinned at me, his earlier annoyance entirely dissolved by the knowledge that I, too, was an elite member of that privileged club; that is, one of those who made the things work, rather than an uncouth barbarian who doesn't realize technology is a precious thing that needs to be cherished and protected. I restrained myself from rolling my eyes at the thought: field Rangers and those charged with support roles (like the members of Research & Development) frequently failed to see eye to eye, and both sides thought the other didn't properly recognize the difficulty, not to mention the importance, of their respective functions. Since I had never bought into the rivalry, I spent a lot of the time I was in Academy classes learning how to service my own equipment.

"Anyway," I said, calling the subject back to something more important, "Jefferson said something about updated equipment."

"Right, his secretary called down about it," the technician confirmed. He held up a small electrical panel and a tiny chip. "First, we have for you an attachment and an application for your Poketch. It's an improved styler; this one will work entirely off of your index finger's motions when it's active, so you don't have to spend time fiddling with dials or anything."

I nodded. "Handy," I observed, since he seemed to want a response. For the uninitiated, a styler (or, to give it the proper name and capitalization, a "Capture Styler") is a device employed solely by Pokemon Rangers. Because Rangers are not expected to keep more than a single pokemon as a partner, but they still might need to capture and transport troublesome pokemon, R&D developed the styler to allow them to temporarily maintain control over a pokemon. It functions mostly like a temporary pokeball, but it will only last so long as its power holds out. After that, a Ranger better hope that they managed to talk the pokemon out of doing whatever it was that resulted in its capture-especially since "whatever it was doing" usually involved taking pieces out of Ranger-type people.

"We will also be updating your pokedex with the most recently discovered species." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "We've even got special data on several legendary pokemon." He seemed nonplussed when I failed to act appropriately astonished. "Dialga and Palkia were recently discovered in Sinnoh. The trainer only managed to capture one of them, but he got lots of data on the combat capabilities of both." This time, since I was prepared, I managed to fake enthusiasm, and expressed it sufficiently to satisfy him.

"The rest isn't quite as interesting. Your communicator has been slightly enhanced to give you video capability, though the storage is still quite limited, only ten gigabytes." He demonstrated the function briefly, but clearly considered it of little import. "Also, it now maintains a warrant function."

"A what?"

"A warrant function. If, in the course of your mission, you find it necessary to arrest someone without having a chance to get a warrant or find a police officer to do it, you can activate your communicator and..." He shrugged. "Most Rangers would reach a staffer here who would forward the request to the Director's Office, but Director Jefferson requested that your communicator have such requests relayed directly to him." He gave me a strange look, and then shrugged again. "I would dearly love to know what it is you're doing for him that has all these modifications going on."

So would I, I thought to myself. Evidently, the mission was a great deal more complicated than I had expected; it didn't seem to be the simple investigation that it had looked to begin with, if the Chief thought I'd need to arrest people. Rangers simply don't do that, not without serious cause, and most Rangers lacked the even the authority to perform an arrest. I ignored his own curiosity, though; Jefferson hadn't said that this was a "need to know" mission, but it stood to reason, and the tech didn't need to know.

"Anything else?"

"Not a thing."

"Very well, then." I nodded once, briskly. "I'll be back for this before I leave tomorrow."

My next stop was to the library. The Ranger Academy has texts on all sorts of pokemon topics, creating a huge resource for Rangers heading out on missions to browse for information. At all times of the day or night, you could see any rank of Ranger filing through books and magazines, constantly updating their knowledge so as to be prepared for any situation.

In my case, the first thing I did was sit down and find all of the information I could about Sinnoh's Elite 4 and Cynthia. It made for interesting reading, and by the time I was finished, I had compiled neat little dossiers on all current and most prior members of the League's top trainers. A few more hours gave me most of the information I needed on the variations between Sinnoh and Kanto's legal systems. I was familiar with the latter, but the former had some interesting quirks which would have tripped me up if I hadn't checked. Actually, "quirks" is a bit of an understatement. Among other things, the defendant is only allowed to testify by the request of the judge, and only to clarify a defense witness's testimony. Otherwise, the defendant cannot defend him-or-herself except through the testimony and evidence of others. This meant, of course, that if a defendant's testimony were required to obtain subpoenas for witnesses or evidence, it would require a lot more work to get that testimony even considered.

Another interesting fact was the note that most investigations into League personnel were handled "in-house," by League Security, and not by the police. This would probably make it difficult to acquire records, since League Security was notoriously protective of its (few) privileges and responsibilities. They would take especially poorly to the idea of the Rangers personally involving themselves in the case, let alone a Field Commander on special assignment from the Chief. This meant that if I had to get information only they had-and I probably would, since the only other alternative would be to do my own investigation, which would waste time we didn't really have-I would have to do it under the table. At worst, I might have to sneak in and steal it myself. I made a note on my growing list of things to do: contact the Liaison Division (a fancy name for the career spies) and ask for a list of their underground contacts in that part of Sinnoh.

All in all, it wasn't a pretty picture. Deciding to call it a night, I summoned one of the ever-present attendants and inquired about my room assignment.

* * *

"Where's everyone else?" I asked Beni as I let myself into the room.

*Cammy is visiting with Miranda, and she took Venus with her. Lorelei is still in her pokeball.*

"Get Cammy and Venus, will you?"

As the others arranged themselves, I summoned Lorelei and brought the Milotic up to date. Like Venus, she seemed completely unsurprised, and expressed her congratulations to the both of us on Cammy's pregnancy. I shook my head in amazement. Between Venus, Jefferson, and Lorelei, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the simple acceptance people were displaying for what was theoretically impossible.

"Well, people," I said when the entire crowd was assembled. "We've got some talking to do." I looked at Cammy especially. "You are staying here." I cut her off as she made to protest. "We don't know precisely what this pregnancy will bring, and if something happens to you, I want you in the safest place in the world with the doctors I trust the most."

Cammy still looked rebellious, but, "All right," she muttered unhappily. "If that's what you really want." I had expected much more of a fight from her, and I gave Beni a questioning look; had she had words with Cammy while I was on my way down? The air of satisfaction she exuded seemed to suggest as much.

I decided to give the Lucario some encouragement, and smiled gently at Cammy. "What I really want is for you to be at my side all the time, but... what I want most of all is to know you're safe." I glanced around the room, and my eyes fell on Venus and Lorelei. "I don't like it, but I need you two to stay here as well," I added reluctantly. "If I'm going as a Ranger, I can't have more than one pokemon with me, or people will start asking questions." I frowned. "If I'm going to have to cut through miles of red tape, I can't afford to have people question me too much."

Venus gestured quickly, but Lorelei beat her to the conclusion. "What you mean is, though we could help you by being with you, we'll be more help staying here and not..." her musical tones paused and then somehow, she shrugged. "I think 'blowing your cover' is the expression humans favor." Venus nodded in agreement. Neither sounded happy, but they sounded like they understood. It was a big relief to me to know that they would be safe no matter what happened in Sinnoh.

In truth, I wasn't expecting it to be too big a deal, but then, that fateful first mission with Claire should have been a routine search-and-rescue. If for some reason Darkrai decided that it couldn't afford to have meddling in whatever was going on with Cynthia, the odds were good it would have fatal consequences for me and anyone around me. Indeed, if I had thought I could get away with it, I would have ordered Beni to stay, too. If I had to take a pokemon, though, Beni was the best choice. She was by far my most powerful partner in combat, and her own level-headedness would help me get to the bottom of things in Sinnoh more than Cammy's enthusiasm or the various talents of the other two. Of course, there was also one more ace up my sleeve, but I wouldn't mention that unless they asked.

I let the matter drop as they started talking amongst themselves. Beni was simply watching to see what the responses would be; we had already had this conversation between ourselves, and she had informed me in no uncertain terms that if I tried to leave her behind, she'd blast through the Academy and leave me with a bill I'd be years repaying, in order to get back to me. Admittedly, she had been quite calm and collected when she told me this... which made the threat all the more believable.

Cammy, Venus and Lorelei were having a hurried conversation in whispers. I caught a word occasionally, but nothing which gave me any idea what they were talking about. Then, without speaking to me at all, the two of them tapped the fronts of their pokeballs and returned. I winced. Clearly, they weren't very happy after all, despite their understanding words to the contrary.

Beni stretched. "I'm going for a walk," she declared, not bothering to mindspeak. "According to what I heard while we were walking around, they've got a new botanical garden on the grounds that I want to investigate." She looked over her shoulder at me, and I nodded at the message in her eyes. Beni seemed to want some time to herself, and so she left Cammy and me alone in my room. I looked at the pokemon, who, if Miranda's guess was correct, was bearing my child, with several misgivings in my eyes.

"I really do wish I could take you," I told her.

"I know," she responded brightly. She then gave me a huge smile and a hug. "But if I go with you, you'll spend more time worrying about me than taking care of yourself," she added, poking me in the nose.

"I suppose that's true," I said with solemn dignity. We both made overly sappy, loving smiles at each other, and burst out laughing.

"How do you really feel about this?" I asked softly, once we'd settled down. Catching the worry in my voice, Cammy seemed to consider the question seriously before replying.

"Surprised," she admitted. "A bit frightened, because I don't know what to expect. Happy, because..." she made a face. "I'm not sure why. I just, you know, do. Warm and fuzzy, like being wrapped in a warm blanket in the middle of winter. I think that's the biggest emotion."

"You're not angry? Or upset? At me?" The idea startled a laugh out of her, doing more to allay my fears than a thousand words.

"Nope!" she beamed. "Like I said, happy, surprised, and a very little bit frightened. Maybe hungry. Yes, hungry, too." She gave me doe eyes. "Do you have any chocolate? You're supposed to be bringing me chocolate and watermelon and hard to find things like that now," she chided. "Miranda said so. And going out in the middle of the night for pizza with broccoli if I want it. That's what the movie showed."

"Movie?"

"As hormonal balances change, the woman will experience shifts in her desires, reflecting those nutrients most needed to maintain a stable physiology," Cammy recited. She waved an imperial paw. "Fetch me chocolate donuts," she yawned. "With prink spinkles."

"You mean, pink sprinkles?"

"Oops. I messed up." She fell silent, and I realized that something truly was bothering her.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, it's just..." she started folding her paws in her lap nervously, and looked over at me. "Pregnant women still have sex, right?"

I forcibly kept myself from rolling my eyes, knowing she'd misinterpret it and be hurt. "Of course! Why wouldn't they?"

"Well, Miranda said..."

"Miranda," I said with admirable restraint, "has been with us for about a week, Cammy. She's making guesses, and I still think she hasn't forgiven me completely for having sex with pokemon." I frowned. "She's got some built-in biases, I think, which she's not quite managed to remove."

"Oh." Cammy thought about that for a moment. "What's a bias?"

"It means, Miranda's trying to convince you that I won't want to have sex with you." I held up a hand, palm up. "My guess, she thinks that if you start being reserved with me, I'll think you're really upset about being pregnant, feel guilty, and stop having sex with pokemon at all. Why she's doing that, though, I don't know." I frowned, and then sighed. "Alternatively, she could just be saying what she really thinks. Not everything needs to be an elaborate plan." That last was more to myself than to Cammy. Ever since Celestic, I have found myself seeing grand schemes in coincidental events.

"I think Miranda's nice," Cammy said, surprising me. "She's just... confused." She waved her paws around and gestured feebly. "It's like, she knows where she's going, but she's not sure why, or how she's going to get there."

"Reacting, instead of acting," I mused. "So instead of charting her own course, she simply responds to other things, without really thinking about them."

There was another pause, and then Cammy's plaintive murmur.

"Enough about her. If you're telling the truth about pregnant women, prove it!"

"What, just go kidnap some woman and..."

"Zaaaaach!"

"Oh." I tapped her nose gently with a finger. "Goof. All you had to do was ask."

Cammy held her arms over her head as I tugged her tank top off. She wriggled a bit to get free of the fabric, and then pulled her shorts down. She glanced down, then back up.

"I want panties," she declared suddenly.

"What?" I blinked.

"Panties." She waved her paws. "Made of silk... about this big... fit around about here..."

"I know what they are," I replied with commendable restraint. "I meant, 'why do you want them?'"

"Because they look good."

"Oh." No argument there. I glanced at the clock radio next to the bed and shook my head. "Too late to go out and get some," I pointed out.

"I'll get them before you get back!"

A number of worrying scenes crossed my mind in that instant. "Don't worry," I told her hastily. "I'll bring you some back." Far, far, FAR better to suffer the embarrassment of going into a store to buy girls' panties than to let Cammy out on her own to do it! Or, worse... I had an image of Cammy asking Miranda for help, and controlled a wince.

"Okay!"

I held out my arms toward her and she fell into them without reservation, melting against me, until I could feel her entire body against mine. I cradled her head, just chest-high, against me and hugged her, cuddling her as I sat down on the bed. For a time, we simply relaxed, enjoying the presence of one another. I realized how little time the two of us, and by extension, all of us, had had just to sit and talk, or even just to keep each other company. Before Celestic, we had spent every waking hour preparing for the next contest, and after Celestic, it had been the whole business with Arceus and Darkrai. Personal time had been low on the agenda, and I made a decision.

"Once we've sorted out Darkrai," I murmured, leaning over Cammy's shoulder, "we're going on vacation. Somewhere in the Orange Islands, I think, far away from fighting battles, contests, and demi-godlike pokémon." I smiled. "We'll even buy you a swimsuit." There was a certain thrill in my mind as I imagined Cammy in a cute one-piece. 

Cammy giggled at the thought, then gave me a wicked grin. "Or we could go to a nudist beach!" she offered. Her grin broadened. "We could invite Cynthia, too!"

"Cammy! Who ever is giving you all these naughty ideas?"

"You are," came the pointed response.

"Oh, right."

Despite the comfort I derived from cuddling Cammy, soon certain parts of my anatomy became insistent. Cammy patted the growing bulge in my pants with an air of proprietary satisfaction. "You want me to take care of that?" she asked innocently. "I don't mind."

Well, since she was offering...

I carefully removed my uniform and arranged it on a chair to keep it from wrinkling. Cammy watched from the bed with some amusement as I adjusted the rank insignia on it. Then I sat down next to her.

"I think," I told her honestly, evaluating my own needs, "I'd rather start out on you, instead of the other way around."

"Ooh, goody!"

Cammy reclined on the bed, spreading her legs open and presenting her sex for my careful inspection. Eagerly, I leaned in to lick at the pale pink flower before me. Cammy rarely allowed me the initiative, preferring to do three things when we had sex, without much variation: she'd give me a handjob, lick me clean, and then mount me.

The Lucario didn't seem inclined to enforce her order on things, though. Her paws were clenching the sheets, her eyes were closed, and her tongue darted out every few seconds to lick at her nose reflexively. I was getting fairly good at this sort of thing. After all, my partners, as much as we love each other, are very outspoken when something doesn't work or isn't quite what they want. Once, Beni had, with a smile, called it "marriage training," and the expression had enjoyed brief popularity amongst my team as an indication that they wished to have sex. It only died out when Cammy had used the phrase in public, and caused a great deal of confusion for all concerned, and an especially long conversation with a nice, matronly woman who wanted to help. 

No, we didn't, and it's none of your business.

"How does that feel?" I asked unnecessarily, looking up from my work. Cammy's eyes were still closed, but her hands no longer clasped the covers. I found out where they were when they suddenly and firmly pushed my head back down.

"Don't stop," she ordered in a half-whisper.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Her breath was coming in short gasps now, and her paws tightened on my hair as I forced my tongue inside of her. Her legs began to curl around the back of my head and pull me in closer as she lost herself in her feelings. She started panting, whining in the back of her throat as her paws flew from my head and back to the sheets. I could feel the bed shake as she tightened and loosened her grip spastically, seeking a grip on something entirely in her mind. The whine built into a sudden shriek as her back arched. Her legs tightened until I could barely breath, and Cammy shuddered as a small torrent of liquid gushed from her, drenching my face. Her breath slowed after that, and she loosened her legs hastily when I pushed them.

"Well," I began, giving her an amused look. I didn't manage to finish my sentence. She rolled upwards and on top of me, forcing me to the ground, pressing her muzzle against my lips and her tongue slid into my mouth eagerly as she clung to me. "That... was great..." she panted as she released me.

"I could tell," I replied, raising an eyebrow with all the dignity a naked man thrown on the floor by someone a third his weight can muster. It wasn't much. I was pleased that she'd enjoyed herself, though. After all, that's what makes "making love" different from "fucking like bunnies": taking the time to try to let your partner enjoy him- or herself as much as possible.

Cammy smiled at me and leaned back on top of me. Gently, she cleaned my face of her juices, lingering over it just enough to suggest that she enjoyed her taste as much as I did.

"Thank you," she added, leaning back and surveying me. In leaning back, she touched my now-painful erection, and I restrained a gasp from a sensation so intense it was painful. Apparently, my ministrations on Cammy hadn't exactly done my arousal any harm, either. She giggled happily. "And just when I thought the night couldn't get any better," she murmured. Then she cocked her head. "Did that sound right? I was trying to be seduc- woo!"

That last was from me lifting her up and throwing her-gently-onto the bed, and then lowering myself on top of her.

"I think it worked," she concluded to nobody in particular. She reached down to help guide me into her entrance, displaying an eagerness beyond even her usual energetic acrobatics.

Cammy's sex was wet enough to make it easy to penetrate her warmth. As I pushed into her, she started to twitch a bit, apparently trying to lean into me.

"What are you doing?" I asked curiously.

"Trying to see," she panted, her tone a mixture of passion and frustration. 

"Hmm." I glanced around the room, and then smiled. "Let's make that easier for you," I told her.

I spun Cammy around-well, actually it was more of a slow rotation, with attendant squawks of indignation and surprise-until she faced away from me. Then I picked her up, my cock still embedded in her warmth, and carried her over to the mirror on the far wall. I saw her eyes flicker curiously up and down over her reflection.

"Oh, wow, that's what I look like?" she breathed. She twitched her hips, and watched as the Lucario in the mirror slid further down my shaft. "Neat!"

Only Cammy, I thought to myself, would have that reaction in the middle of intercourse. Which, admittedly, is part of why I love her so much.

Cammy, meanwhile, was still experimenting with the mirror. She used her paws to pull apart the outer lips of her pussy and look at the exact meeting of our bodies, making happy noises as she examined herself.

"Do you think I look sexy like this?" she asked, and then not waiting for a response, added, "I think I do."

"I think you do, too," I agreed honestly. In fact, I thought her innocent curiosity about herself and her concern over her appearance made her all the cuter.

While she watched herself, I began to pump into her, slowly, and then faster. She watched in apparent fascination as my manhood slid in and out of her, her paws keeping her sex spread wide so that she could watch more easily.

"Ooh," she hissed as my penis completely buried itself in her warmth. She wriggled slightly, nearly dislodging the hands I was using to support her. I adjusted my grip without comment.

As my thrusting steadied into a constant rhythm, I watched Cammy lean forward. Touching her muzzle to the glass, she kissed herself in the mirror.

"She... ahh... looks like she's having fun," the Lucario observed in a strained tone of voice.

"I bet she is," I murmured hazily. Cammy's hips were starting to thrust back at me by reflex, drawing me closer to the brink with each motion. Soon I could bear it no longer. Whether by intent or instinct, Cammy's pussy was virtually milking my cock, sucking it in as deeply as possible. With a shuddering, gusting breath I gave her what she clearly wanted, releasing my seed deep within her womb. Dimly, through the haze of climax, I felt Cammy stiffen. A flood of warmth splashed on my shaft, and I heard her stifle a yelp as she came. 

My energy spent, I slowly toppled back on the bed, drawing Cammy with me. As I recovered, Cammy hopped down and went back to the mirror, pushing her fur aside to get a look at all of her parts.

"Cammy, my love, you are narcissistic," I commented, watching her still examining herself in the mirror. She nodded eagerly.

"Yup!" I waited for the requisite pause. "What's narcissississ... what?"

"Narcissistic," I said with exaggerated patience. "It means you really, really like looking at yourself."

"Oh." She nodded again, thoughtfully this time. "But it's neat, how we're put together!"

There didn't seem to be much I had to say to that, and it had been an incredibly long and shock-filled day. I leaned back on the covers, placing my head on the pillows. As I drifted off to sleep, my eyes captured the image of Cammy, still naked in front of the mirror, posing. I smiled to myself as dreams overtook me.

* * *

Two days after I made my farewells to Cammy and the others, Beni and I stepped off the boat in Canalave. From here on out, we were on our own, with nothing but our own skills and the prestige of the Rangers at our back. Of course, that prestige was a formidable bonus, especially when we discovered the general attitude of the public about Cynthia. Most seemed willing to accept that what had been printed about her was true, and the few that remained her supporters did so only with a sense of bitter futility. The mingled emotions that Beni sensed from the residents of Canalave told a bleak tale; the people of Sinnoh had, in their own minds, already judged and sentenced the former Champion, and all that remained was to carry out that sentence.

"It's enough to make me a bit worried about our mission," I confided to Beni, sitting down on a bench to rest.

*I agree,* my partner admitted reluctantly. She shook her fur out as she sat down beside the bench, and began grooming it back into order. *Still, there is one bright light in all of this.*

The bright light she spoke of was a fairly dim one, as it happened. It gave me some cause for hope, though, and it came from an unexpected source: the very complaints which depressed me in the first place. See, while it's common for a town as small as Canalave to have fairly homogenous opinions, the people we had spoken to were not only voicing the same opinions, but in many cases were using the exact same arguments and words. To most this would have been fairly unimportant, but to Beni's trained perceptions and my people sense, it felt orchestrated. Orchestrated with such a fine hand that nobody was even aware it was being done, all the time participating in it themselves. Unfortunately, if it was being organized by someone else, our few hours of investigation had yet to turn up any other sign.

"I think we've found out all we can here. Let's move on."

One of the people I'd spoke to had unwittingly given me a suggestion where to get more information. Apparently annoyed at my insistence on getting answers, he informed me (somewhat tersely) that he got his information from the Jubilife TV network, and if I wanted to get more information, I could go sit down in front of a television and let an honest man get back to work. Seeing as how the man was earnestly determined not to let a Ranger see what he was loading onto his cargo barge, I disregarded the last part of his statement with a clear conscience. Nonetheless, he'd had a valid point, and the comment had filled me with a sudden desire to find out where the network was getting its information.

A brief bit of work involving the styler and a Floatzel and Beni and I were standing in Jubilife. I waved farewell to the helpful Water-type, as she flipped back into the water, and then turned my gaze on the city itself.

"Well, Beni," I said with a shrug. "Looks like it's time for us to head on in."

Finding the TV station was no problem at all; the town seemed built to emphasize it. We did encounter some difficulties in the form of a guard who didn't want to let us into the upper-ranking offices, but presently, with judicious use of my Ranger ID card and an officious manner, we were seated in the office of the Jubilife Television Network president.

"I apologize for the wait," the president told me, handing me a cup of coffee. I smiled benignly and gestured at his chair.

"Not at all," I replied graciously. "I had barely even noticed."

The president sat, and for a moment looked searchingly at me. Then he shrugged.

"The network has a policy, which I'm sure you're aware of, that we will not reveal sources of information."

I nodded. This was standard journalistic ethics. Also, to allow my cynical nature to manifest, it made it easy to make up a story and then decline to prove it, claiming that doing so would compromise your sources. I suggested as much to the president, who flushed.

"The story about the former Champion is very carefully accredited," he said defensively. "We checked it out thoroughly before allowing it to air. I can reveal that much of it came from the League itself."

"Off the record, I'm not sure how reliable the League is at present," I told him. "Still off the record, that's part of the reason I'm here."

The president blinked. "To investigate the League?" he asked cautiously. I smiled at him, and sipped from my coffee. Beni gave him a feral grin.

"In that case," the president continued, starting to sound enthusiastic, "would you be willing to accept a trade?"

"What's the offer?"

"Our sources of information for an exclusive on your investigation." He raised a hand to forestall the protest I wasn't going to make. "Once you can reveal the details, that is."

I raised an eyebrow. "Giving me information I'm legally entitled to in exchange for something I don't have to give you seems a bit... cheap, in all honesty."

The president relaxed slightly. Clearly, my attempt to haggle demonstrated that I wasn't inclined to storm out of his office in disgust and declare the station under suspicion.

"We can go one better," he admitted. "Just knowing the names of our sources won't help you. We can provide you with the authentication and recognition codes which will allow you to question them yourself." I nodded slowly.

"Have you any more information on Cynth-I mean, the former Champion's-case?" I asked. "Things you didn't report on the air?"

"It's all in this file," he said, pulling one out of his top desk draw and laying it down in front of me. A suspicious person might have wondered why the president of the entire company had that file specifically in his desk. I'm a moderately suspicious person.

"You seem remarkably well-prepared for this meeting," I stalled.

"A Ranger field commander is news in this part of the world," he pointed out. "And there's only one thing big enough to bring one of you out here right now."

Two things, I thought. But only one you know about.

"And if I agree to an exclusive on my investigation, I get that file."

"Correct. The original journalist's report on his contact methods is also in there. You should be able to use the same methods to get in touch with his sources."

I shrugged. Ultimately, unless I was willing to make an official scene and more than a few enemies, this was the only way to get the information I wanted.

"We have a deal, then," I informed him.

"Excellent!"

The file was a veritable "Who's Who" of the Sinnoh-region League. Sources almost as high as the Elite 4 were involved in the story.

"There's something drastically wrong with this," I pointed out to Beni. "No points for guessing what, though." We were sitting in a park not too far from the TV station, and browsing the copies the president's secretary had made for me.

*There's too many sources,* Beni agreed. One of the primary elements of Ranger training was criminal investigation, and the thing that my instructor had always told me was that a frame was frequently more complete than was necessary to prove guilt. I suspected that the same principle applied: too many people were saying the exact same things for it to be true, just like in Canalave City, only these people were high enough up to know for certain. Unless someone were deliberately trying to hide the truth...

"Do you think Lucian is trying to manipulate the story?" I grinned at myself. "Duh. He's the only one to benefit from this."

*Don't be too sure,* Beni cautioned. *It's always possible that there's something afoot here that we don't understand.*

"Well, there's one easy way to double-check that," I said. "And it was our next step anyway."

*Cynthia?*

"Yep."

The file had contained the interesting information that Cynthia was currently being held in a small penitentiary near the entrance to Victory Road (Sinnoh). The file had also commented, in a somewhat disgruntled tone, that the former Champion was not accepting visitors, and attempts to question the guard had not been particularly successful. I grinned humorlessly. I always did like a challenge.

* * *

"I'm sorry, sir," the guard said without sounding particularly apologetic. "Visiting hours are over."

With a smile, I shrugged my shoulders and came into the light, letting him get a good look at my uniform, and most especially, my rank insignia. "I'm not here to visit," I explained. I held out a folded sheet of paper for him to take. At my side, Beni grinned at him with a purely feral humor as his face drained of color. "My name is Zachary Winton-Kincaid, Field Commander. I'm on special assignment from Director Jefferson, to investigate the allegations of unethical behavior leveled against Champion Hawthorn." I nodded at the piece of paper his unmoving hand contained. "You'll find all the relevant details there. Once you've read it, I'll need an escort to the warden's office." My smile, when I gave it to him, was tinged with irony. "Perhaps he can arrange to extend 'visiting hours' for me."

The guard flushed, but was smarter than to respond to my goad. I rather regretted having to take that attitude with him, to be honest, but it was late, and meeting with stone walls in every direction had filled me with the need to lash out at someone, anyone, and just have them take it. Unfortunately for the hapless guard, he happened to be handy. 

The guard was now speaking into the intercom by the gate. "Uh-huh, yeah," he confirmed. "That's right, a Ranger." There was a garbled voice from the speaker that I didn't bother trying to understand. "How the fuck should I know? Acts like some sort of big shot, though." The guard glanced back at me, somewhat irritably.

"Field Commander," I repeated helpfully.

"You get that?" he asked the voice on the other end. A staticky affirmative came in response. "What do you want me to do with him?" He nodded as the voice continued. "Alright, I'll send him in."

"Don't take it too personally," I told the guard, not waiting for him to speak to me. "It's been a long day. Tell you what; when you get off shift, come find me, and we'll go have a drink somewhere."

That thought seemed to encourage the guard somewhat, because he recovered enough to smile at me as he opened the gate. It was a bit of a wan smile, of course, but I figured it had been a long day for him, too. 

My escort, when I found it, was not to the warden's office after all, but to a small visiting room away from the central areas of the prison. There I found Cynthia waiting for me. The guard inside the room watching her relayed a message to me that the warden was no longer in the prison, but that his aide was more than happy to assist in any way. The Champion surprised me with a hug, embracing me long enough to realize that she was shaking.

"That's an interesting uniform," Cynthia observed, drawing back and otherwise giving no indication that she was a prisoner or in any sense feeling misused. "I thought you'd given it up."

"So had I," I admitted, giving her a grin. "The Director had other ideas, and an offer that was hard to refuse." I spun the chair around and sat down on it, folding my arms across its back. "So, what's this stupid business about, anyway?" I asked as Beni lay down behind me.

We'd discussed our strategy before we'd even set foot in Sinnoh. Both of us knew that, if Cynthia was by any strange chance guilty of what she'd been charged with, getting the truth from her would be nearly impossible the normal way. Instead, I would pretend-though it wasn't exactly a pretense-to be completely trusting of her, while Beni sent carefully prepared tendrils of psychic energy to test the former Champion's reactions. In this way, we hoped to get an idea for how she felt about the situation, on the assumption that an innocent person would feel upset and frustrated by the false charges, while a guilty one would simply try to appear so. Beni would be attempting to find a discrepancy between Cynthia's physical responses and her mental ones.

"It's ridiculous," Cynthia replied in a carefully level tone. "I don't know why, but Lucian's trying to pin all of this off on me, and the others, who know better, are letting him."

"Ignoring why Lucian might be doing this... why do the others let him?"

"Lucian's smart. If I had to guess, I would say that he's told them I'm working with Darkrai, and that the Celestic Calamity was my idea to ensure my grasp on power." She shook her head.

"And you have no idea why Lucian would want to get you arrested?"

"Aside from sheer pique, no."

*Follow up on that one,* Beni instructed me. *She's hiding something there. Something about Lucian.*

"Tell me about Lucian," I ordered her. She gave me a strange look.

"Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated?" she asked bluntly.

"Because you are," I returned, matching honesty for honesty. "I'm under orders to investigate your involvement in this matter. The Director-like me-thinks you're innocent, and he feels that the timing for this is too coincidental for it to be pure chance."

"Darkrai."

"That's the theory," I agreed, pulling on my earlobe.

*Not a hint of hesitation,* my partner commented at the signal. *She's angry, apparently at Lucian, but not surprised in the least.*

"Anyway, now that you know why I'm here, I guess I'd better stop wasting time." I pulled out a recorder from the pouch at my belt and set it on the table. She gave me a tired smile.

"I know the drill," she told me wearily. "I'm being recorded, anything I say can and will be used against me, etc."

*No concern, either,* came the reliable mental prompting. *She seems to have utter faith that nothing she says can possibly harm her. I'd say she's innocent, Zach. I'm not feeling any duplicity out of her.*

Wait until you hear her story, I thought to myself. If she's guilty, she's bound to slip up somewhere here. I unzipped my messenger bag and pulled out a folder, containing all the various evidence and information I had accumulated so far.

"I would like to know more about your working relationship with the other Elite Four members," I told her, pulling out the basic summaries I had constructed at the Academy. "Most especially, Lucian... and Bertha."

"Bertha? Why Bertha?"

I tapped the old woman's profile with an index finger. "She had a chance at being Champion before you arrived," I pointed out. She nodded. In fact, despite being older than most of her training peers, she had challenged the League for the first time only about five years ago, and the results of that challenge had earned her position the moment after she lost to the former champion. "What you may not know is that she should still be the top Elite Four trainer, above even Lucian. But when Lucian arrived, she took a two-rank hit in the lists. The problem is, it doesn't seem to have been the result of a battle between them." I indicated the final paragraph of the summary, a strength estimate. "According to this, Bertha should be able to beat Lucian without breaking a sweat, and she doesn't appear to be the sort to bow casually before any young hotshot. So why Lucian? And why drop down to being #3 instead of #2, if all she wanted was to let Lucian have the top slot?"

"I had heard about that... but I never wondered why," Cynthia admitted. She took a deep breath. "All right," she said. "I will tell you everything I know. I just hope it is more use to you than it has been to me."

For some reason, the word "Testimony" flashed through my head as she began.

[To Be Continued]

[Author's Note]: I'm trying to avoid these, so I'll make it brief. I modeled the Pokemon Rangers sorta off of the Hunters from Hunter X Hunter, with a dash of Ecolitan (L.E. Modesitt, Jr.) and a hint of Time Scouts (Robert Asprin), because it fit my vision of what I wanted the story to do. Essentially, the Rangers are an autonomous enforcement group, highly respected throughout the Pokemon world; they have far-reaching civil and military-inasmuch as the Pokemon world has a military-powers. Also: man, do I love me some Phoenix Wright.

Further, and finally, I do apologize. Both for the delay and for the somewhat lower quality of this particular episode. To be quite frank, this has been kicking around my desktop since late November, and I've just not had the time to finish it. When I did have the time to finish it, nothing felt quite right. Finally, I forced myself to finish it, so it will feel rough and awkward in spots, but I figured it was better to have it out NOW than to wait until it was absolutely perfect. Especially since I've got so many things I still want to do with the series. But the practical meaning of this is that it hasn't been run past any beta readers, the genius people who tend to catch most of my chronologic or grammatic flaws.