Interlude II: Whispers

US- well, it's been awhile. But consider the long hiatus over. A little teaser to tide you over and welcome in the new year.

DV- For you see, when we say a hiatus, we actually mean a hiatus, not just pretending like it's not been abandoned. We've put too much time and energy into this to just drop it. So yeah, while we will take hiatus' from time to time, this will be finished at some point unless the unthinkable happens.

US- either way, we can announce that Arc 4 planning is going well. No promises about when we start releasing it, but it's definitely in the works. So enjoy this Interlude, and take a look at the broader context of what the flippity fuck just happened last Arc.

Disclaimer: *Disclaimer message in not available. Please leave a disclaimer message after the beep. BEEP*

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Whitney POV

It was with great relief that Whitney closed her Pokegear with a loud click, and tossed it into her handbag. One more call, one more person she had to act politely towards, one more piece of useless, contradictory information she either already knew or knew was completely wrong. There was almost too much information at this point - and everyone seemed to be saying very different things. Just parsing what was important from the stream of data...

"What a mess." she whispered to herself, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. If she stayed sat down for any longer she'd either die or murder someone. If her mentor had ever told her just how much actual work went into being a Gym Leader, then she would have told him to shove his title up his ass and never looked back.

So Whitney grabbed her purse, double checked her Pokeballs were where they needed to be, and left her stifling office.

"Hey." came the familiar voice of her first Pokegirl, her most ever-present reassurance, holding a steaming mug of coffee in either one of her hands.

"Maisie, you are a lifesaver." The Gym Leader declared, taking the mug from her lover and downing half of it in one go.

"Come on, dear. You've been working for the last six hours."

Whitney offered a wry smile. "I definitely need a break."

The two of them happily sipped at the rest of their drinks, then walked hand in hand out of the League building that they worked within, until they reached the nearby park. This was a common place for the two of them to run off to during breaks and lunches, and suffice to say that Whitney possessed quite a few pleasant memories of their time here together…

"You look deeper in thought than usual."

"Just… remembering happier times." Whitney admitted. In times like these, you have to remember the good times. Unfortunately for Whitney, she couldn't recall a time when things had been this bad. The assassination of a Gym leader and several major league officials, a complete blockade of the city and the subsequent open war in the streets. The fact that they'd managed to confirm Giovanni's role as the leader of Team Rocket was the only silver lining in this mess, especially since even after he lost a duel to the death with an Elite Four member he was somehow able to slip away into the night.

Leaving everyone else to clean up the mess.

All in all, the Night of Knives had been the fucking worst. Both to deal with at the time (from what the reports revealed), and to deal with afterwards.

"Fuck Giovanni." The pinkette firmly decided. "Always hated that asshat, even when he was still a Gym Leader. Don't even care about the whole 'evil gangster' thing. I'm just pissed that he's left so much work for me, even this far away from the blast radius."

The Miltank beside her let out a little snort of amusement. "Glad to see you have your priorities straight."

"Gotta put things in perspective, you know?" Whitney kept up the joke, playing along with it. Anything to keep up the appearance that she was okay, that she was coping, that everything was fine still. Couldn't let any of the public surrounding them suspect she might be tearing her hair out in stress in the comfort of her own office.

Finally, they reached their destination. A nice little pond surrounded by a grove of trees, and a comfortable wooden bench besides it. It was a picturesque spot, but more importantly, it was out of sight of most people. It was as private as being outside could be. Maisie sat down, and Sophie lied down beside her on the dry wood, using her lap as a quite comfortable pillow.

"How are you really doing?" Maisie queried.

"Tired. Scared. Worried about what's coming next. If Sophie hadn't let me know she was leaving in advance…" Whitney couldn't even imagine how scared she would have been hearing those first reports of the casualties in Olivine and wondering if Sophie and Joseph were amongst them. Ever since they'd left Goldenrod, she'd had nothing but worries for them. And considering what had happened to them, she didn't feel that her paranoia was unwarranted. Her dearest Sophie had almost been reduced to a Feral… it was a scary thought. And the business with Joseph and Keiko had been no better. But now she was arguably more stressed out about them than when they'd literally been in a Pokegirl invasion - because at least then the stakes had been familiar, and their threat direct.

But now, the problem was humans not Ferals. Luckily, they had instead chosen to indulge in some illegal smuggling to hopefully escape the troubles of Olivine. On the one hand, that was bad! Illegal! Dangerous! As a sister she couldn't really approve! But on the other, she had to give her props for proactiveness. Hopefully they'd left the city safely. Hopefully Sophie would call her soon, and all her worries would be cast aside.

Hopefully.

She realised she was shaking, and that Maisie was stroking her hair tenderly. She let herself still, tried to relax herself put aside the worst of her thoughts. "At least Olivine is recovering. It's a pain for us all, but we're sending as much aid as we can. They're a Coastal city - they're used to having to rebuild things. And we've got Titan by the balls considering what we know about Giovanni, so they're practically throwing money at us to try and stop us investigating." she scoffed at the very notion. They'd all been waiting far too long for any evidence of Rocket involvement in Titan. Like hell were they going to waste this opportunity to start scrutinising them further.

BZZZZ. BZZZZ.

"Whitney."

"Maisie no."

"Whitney yes."

With a groan Whitney pulled herself up and went for her handbag, and the buzzing Pokegear within. Just when she'd finally started getting comfortable too…

"Someone BETTER be dying, y'hear me!?" Whitney yelled at the other end, her good humour all but exhausted at this point.

"This is Dragon Deliveries, a subsidiary of Ameowthzon. We have a package for collection?"

Whitney frowned. "Got it. I'll go grab it. Thanks." she hung up, and got back to her feet.

"Back to work?" Maisie confirmed.

The Gym Leader nodded. That hadn't been an actual delivery, but rather a message alerting her to something far more important. "Our visitor is finally here. And she's damn well taken her time."

XXXXXXXXXX

It was a cliche, but they were meeting at an abandoned warehouse. Whitney had pulled in a favour to quickly get an 'urgent meeting' with the mayor that she could use to disguise her absence from work, had proceeded to dye her hair back to its natural brunette colouring, and then quickly made her way to the prearranged meeting point.

The fact that she had a clean, polished handgun within her handbag was for 'just in case' - she hoped that she wouldn't need to use it.

So it really did piss her off that when she arrived at the warehouse, she found herself completely alone inside of it. "Oi! Are we really going to bother with these power plays, now of all times? Stop being a bitch and get your ass out here!"

There was a faint muffled sound of sniggering, then the sound of wingbeats. Outside, she saw a figure falling from where they'd been perched atop the roof of the building itself. Bronzed skin, powerful wings, scales along the face and exposed arms - and on her back, her Tamer. Blue haired, wrapped up in a cloak specifically designed for high altitude, and a breathing mask left unattached around her neck.

In a motion that could almost be described as dramatic, the Eighth Gym Leader Clair stepped off her Pokegirl, returned her partner in one fluid motion, and strode into the warehouse like she owned it.

"You... are such a show off."

She rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't have used that line of communication if you didn't have confidential information that couldn't even be shared through our usual channels. And unfortunately, after the disaster which was the Night of Knives, I really cannot afford to waste time when there is still so much work to be done. So, shall we continue posturing, or can we get to the point of why I had to fly all the way over here?"

"Tch." Clair always went for the jugular, but never accepted any kind of counter attack. She really was of the Dragon Clans. Sometimes she wondered if the rumours of Dragon blood didn't have any credibility, considering just how smug the Leader of Blackthorn always was.

"I did actually have something important to talk about." Whitney admitted. "The situation with Rocket may actually be worse than even we could have expected. Right now we're on the precipice of disaster. Rocket doesn't realise what they have, but a contact of mine does."

Clair's eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. "Have they been looking into things best forgotten about, and legends best not brought up?"

Whitney shook her head. Luckily, as far as she knew, Rocket wasn't interested in anything such as that. They cared for material power: economic, political and physically. "You'd have to double check with Morty, but if they were looking into such things, it wouldn't be from our neck of the woods."

The Dragon Tamer relaxed a little bit. "I'm glad. There are some things which are even above my paygrade to handle, as it were. Legends are best forgotten."

"That they are. That they are." That was one sentiment that Whitney could completely agree with.

"So then, what is it?"

Whitney closed her eyes, and thought of Joseph, and sent a silent prayer for him to forgive her. "Experimental weapons. Bombs. A Rocket informant has suggested that their science division was playing with unusual and esoteric technology before the Night of Knives occurred. Unfortunately, they're playing with technology similar to the old stuff, and I mean the REALLY old stuff. It's volatile. If it goes up, it could do devastating damage to wherever it went off. And that's just in the best case scenario. Worst case scenario, they figure out how they pulled it off too."

Clair frowned, deep in thought. "Titan has been having a lot of breakthroughs recently as well. Considering the suspected connection and the confirmation of Giovanni, I can certainly believe that either one of their research departments could be playing with things they don't fully understand. Considering the mess that happened over in Kalos several years ago, I can believe it. But why the secrecy?"

"The informant suggested city destroying capabilities." Clair could understand the implications, just as she could. Or rather, couldn't. The idea of 'nukes' still baffled her, but she knew Joseph. She knew of his circumstances, and it made too much sense. He was too scared to be bullshitting her on the topic.

"You'd better have a damn good testimony Whitney. If that report is correct, we'd need to mobilise the League in full and stomp out every bit of Rocket, and probably Titan too. We'd need to find every bit of evidence and destroy it all, just in case. If we were wrong…"

"It would destroy us." The Normal Leader agreed. The Gym Leaders were in a precarious place right now, which was only exasperated by Rockets efforts. Over recent years they'd managed to retain a stable position, but if they suffered a PR hit as high as declaring war on a criminal organisation based on faulty information that wasn't even correct, and then having nothing to show for it…

"Do you have it then? Proof?"

She shook her head. "Don't even know where. I know of its existence and little more."

Clair raised an eyebrow. "You've been a loyal follower. I've found our little alliance useful, but don't fuck with me. You know that I can't act on that, and you know more."

"I know!" Whitney snapped back. "Which is why I haven't sent this through official channels. If true, a spy could tip Rocket off and cause they very problem we need to stop. If false, it gives them a useful PR tool. But if it is true…"

"I'll investigate." Clair promised. "At the very least, the threat of it is enough to validate my concerns. I'll 'persuade' Lance to let us press Titan further. If they are as linked as we fear, they might be our best clue. We have one or two actual informants that might be able to scrounge up something more substantial."

Whitney almost felt herself slump in relief. Then she heard her 'partner' speak once more and the relief slipped away into dread. "But… naturally, there are conditions."

"Naturally."

"I need the informant." The question Whitney had known was coming, and feared the most. After all, she had promised Joseph to keep his secret. Namely, to hide the truth concerning Ben Hagen who was apparently not Giovanni's nephew but instead a world hopper like Joseph. She had promised to protect his identity, even if would hinder investigations.

"He is in a precarious spot. Revealing him would endanger him."

"I really don't care. I need a name, someone I can drag in once we've finished investigating as I do need some form of evidence to justify a crusade, even if I do find anything that might backup this story of 'experimental weapons'."

End of the day, she'd known it would come to this. Clair would never be willing to risk her position on an unknown like this, but also cared enough for her people to do everything she could to protect them. Knowledge of an informant would never be enough for the avaricious Dragon of Blackthorn City.

Whitney carefully considered her options… and made her decision.

"I'll tell you, if you share the knowledge with nobody until the time to launch the operation against Rocket starts. If you guarantee their safety."

It was done. She'd made a promise to Joseph… and she'd just broken it. He'd placed her trust in her, and she'd shattered it along with her heart. But that was okay. She'd made her priorities clear with him. Her city. Her people. Her Pokegirls. Her sister. Him. This was a dick move, but it was the only option that protected all of those things she valued.

Joseph may well never forgive her for this. Hell, Sophie may never forgive her for it. She'd chosen to take her Tamer's side over her sisters, after all (she'd been surprised at the time, but most of all she'd been proud. Her sister, finally standing up to her, for the one she loved. An image she could remember oh so fondly…).

They were well entitled to never forgive her. That was fine. But let none say that Whtiney of Goldenrod City ever failed in the duties that mattered most to her.

"Agreed." Clair spoke sharply, and that was that. Whitney knew that Clair always tried to fulfill the letter of her word, and she would certainly try her best to protect her key witness. She definitely would, especially once she realised who the 'informant' was.

"Ben Hagen is my source." Whitney said, simply, spilling the secret. "My sister's Tamer is friends with him, and the information was obtained that way."

She smiled like several Christmas' alongside her birthday had come all at once. "Oh my. A very interesting source indeed. I suppose if any source could be substantial enough to persuade the other Leaders and League officials to act upon my orders, Giovanni's very own nephew would certainly be a top contender."

"Are we done now?" Whitney asked angrily, more frustrated at herself than with her political ally.

"We are." Clair declared solemnly, calling out her Dragonite once more in a single, slick motion. "I will begin discreet investigations now. Though, for all our sakes, I hope mister Hagen was mistaken."

Whitney hoped so too, but she doubted it.

Without so much as a goodbye, Clair took off in a surge of buffeting wind as she took to the skies, moving so swiftly that there had been barely indication that she had been there to begin with, save for the gnawing dread in Whitney's gut.

Things were picking up. Schemes years in the making were coming to the forefront, while new problems rushed up to meet them. Either way, there was only one thing Whitney knew for sure. The worst was still to come, and it would get much worse. And she would protect everyone she cared about from it, no matter the cost.

"Good luck mister Hagen. You're going to need it."

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Pryce POV

It had been a long time since anyone had called Pryce a fool. Some twenty odd years, if his memory served him well, and it nearly always did. One did not become a Gym Leader through foolishness, despite how some of his younger… colleagues acted. But even then, some of them were far too hasty. Falkner and Whitney came to mind first. Then there were those that were too cautious. If Jasmine had actually bothered to act first, this entire mess could have been avoided. Why the League gave the status of Gym Leader to anyone under forty, he never understood. There were a few like Morty and Erika that could actually handle it, but in his opinion, the League focused too much on power and not enough on wisdom.

With one last sip, he put down his latest cup of tea and the paper. As usual, it was nigh useless sensationalism, with the front page filled with the same narrative on the Night of Knives. Only the higher security clearance afforded to Gym Leaders let him know the full picture. The basics were obvious, to the point even the media couldn't mess it up or spin facts easily, despite their best attempts. Besides, that brat Giovanni had even called him up to explain why the rent payments for their cover shop would be coming in late.

Someone had killed Jasmine and then Rocket tore itself apart. Both were problematic on a large scale. While he didn't care much for Jasmine personally, the fact that her killer was, as far as anyone knew, still potentially at large was worrying. Mahogany wasn't directly next to Olivine, so it was far more likely that if the killer had a vendetta against the Gym Leaders or foolishly thought themselves some form of revolutionary, Chuck or Whitney would be next. It would give him time to prepare, if it was necessary.

"More tea dear?"

He looked up at his Alpha with a smile. Her hair, once a lustrous brown, was starting to grey, though the blue around her eyes and the tusks erupting from her cheeks were as prominent as ever.

"If you don't mind. Thank you Maria."

The Mamoswine nodded, getting another batch of leaves ready, once again leaving Pryce to his thoughts.

Frankly, Pryce decided as he thought about the big picture, the breaking of Rocket was a far bigger problem. Jasmine was, at the end of the day, disposable. There'd be another to take her place soon enough. But Rocket? The younglings didn't understand the true significance, but Rocket wasn't a criminal syndicate operating across Kanto and Johto, it was the criminal syndicate. It was ironic that Rocket actually kept general crime down, but true. It kept organised crime in the hands of a single group, one that had vested interests in not running wild due to their legal fronts actually being profitable. He was old enough that remembered very well how things were like decades earlier, before Penelope Corleone - baby Giovanni at her breast - had taken Nicola's small time operation and expanded it out to dominate both Johto and Kanto under the guidance of he and his allies. He had hoped that those days of lawlessness were long past them due to her success, well beyond what he had hoped or even expected, but it seemed they would soon be returning to that dark time.

Titan and Rocket pretended to be separate entities, but that was another farce. Nor was it one he minded having a hand in. The Corleone family had deep roots to Mahogany, and it's not like he didn't know they had a base here. After all, he was a founding shareholder of Titan, not that that was widely known, and a cut of Rocket's profits for him turning a blind eye so long as they didn't get too out of hand? It was a win-win as far as he was concerned, especially since they'd operate anyway, so it was best to have a hand in the pie, so it speak, if it was inevitable.

But with Rocket gone as a cohesive whole, with the heart of their operations wrecked and their main front all but unusable? Pryce gave a long sigh. He was too old for this, but he didn't trust that any replacements the League sent would be good, especially if Bruce had any say. He would take care of his beloved town till his last dying breath.

With Rocket gone, everyone would splinter off and the groups Rocket hadn't managed to pull out by the roots entirely would start to grow back.

No, Pryce decided, he had to do something. The only question was what. He had allies, other Gym Leaders foremost amongst them, but there was only so much they could do, even all together.

He was saved from further contemplation's for the moment by the ring of his Pokegear. He looked down at the caller id. Of course. He was closer, if not close, than they were. He picked up. "A conference call? At this hour of the morning? Really?"

"Glad you could join us Pryce. Wasn't sure if you'd be up yet."

Pryce resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Well, we can't all be energetic like you two. I'm assuming this is about recent events."

"Of course." Blaine, Cinnabar Island's Gym Leader, answered. "Though given Rocket doesn't operate in Hoenn, I'm not sure why Wattson decided this involved him."

"Just because your brain has been long burned away doesn't mean the rest of can't extrapolate." Wattson, Gym Leader of Mauville City, joked before he turned serious. "Really though, I heard about what happened and you don't have to explain to me why Rocket's dissolvement isn't good. We all remember last time?"

"What, right after Giovanni deposed Penelope? Yeah, I remember when Magma and Aqua actually teamed up and then Rocket still kicked their teeth in." Pryce said, with a small smile at the thought of earlier times. Perhaps not simpler in fact, but it always seems so in hindsight. Then his voice went as cold as the Ice-types he specialised in. "I'm still mad at the brat for it you know, especially since all our hard work has fallen apart under his leadership. Decades of work in getting things set up and making sure the League was always on a wild chase with false leads. All for nought."

"Not...all for nought." Blaine said. "It's not like we've been resting on our laurels since then after all. Besides, if we wanted to rebuild Rocket, we have options."

Pryce contemplated that for a moment. "As I see it, rebuilding Rocket is going to be hard. The League is going to attempt to pull it up from the roots entirely. We'll be further back than we were the first time. Nicola had something for Penelope to build off of. We won't be starting from square one again, we'll be back at square zero. Besides, neither choice is ideal."

"No." Blaine acquiesced. "Gabriel Corleone was ideal and in line. Giovanni would have had to been removed, but that wouldn't have terribly difficult, all things considered. But, alas, Gabriel is dead. As is most of the family. We really only have Oscar Rigo and Ben Hagen as viable choices. Rigo has been gallivanting around Kanto under the name 'Silver,' while Hagen has ducked his tail and made a run for Sinnoh after the mess in Olivine. Oscar is technically a closer blood relative, but well, bastard child. Giovanni said Hagen was his nephew, but you have to admit the circumstances are suspicious. Though if I had to choose between the two, my vote is for Hagen. He's more pragmatic and isn't playing at the role of a hero like Rigo is. That is, if we want to reform it based around the same family at all."

"Very true. We don't necessarily have to." Wattson said. "I haven't done much research on either of them as of yet. I've been preoccupied doing my best to lead the crusade in wiping out Magma and Aqua for good before their stupidity wipes out at least a region if not the damn world. But they're as slippery as usual. I need more to mobilise the resources I would need. Any help would be appreciated, honestly."

Pryce thought that over briefly. Was there much he could do at the moment? With the League digging into Titan despite his most subtle efforts, he couldn't be associated to closely with them, which froze a not-insignificant portion of his assets. But there was something he could do.

"I'll see if I can get back into contact with as much of Rocket's old guard as possible, the ones that still remember our involvement. If I can round them up, I can send them and anyone they deem trustworthy as extra reinforcements to you. It's not as much as I'd like when we're discussing doomsday cults like Magma and Aqua, but my options are limited right now. I'll also try to get in contact with Hagen. He's well known for his quick rise in Titan, and I don't want the wings cut from one of our potential options before we even have a chance to see where they stand."

"Understandable." Wattson replied. "But do be careful. You holding onto your position is more beneficial in the long run. And yes, more warm bodies would be quite useful."

"Agreed." Added Blaine. "Our power to act will be far more limited if any of us are removed from our positions. But we've been playing the game for decades. We can be patient. We're not going to be outmaneuvered by some brats thinking about abstract concepts like justice or the like. A few more years wouldn't cause irreversible damage, if that's what it takes."

"Undesirable, but perhaps unavoidable." Pryce said as he rubbed his temples in slight frustration. "Alright. I'll keep you updated on how the situation develops. Till next time gentlemen."

"Till then." Blaine said before hanging up his end.

"Even if it doesn't come to anything." Wattson added. "Thank you for trying Pryce. Till next time."

The line went dead as everyone hung up.