***
There was always one place that was peaceful for him.
0 stopped just short of his personal room, and reached into his pocket to retrieve the card key from his wallet. Serena glanced at it, and 0 kept it close, not wanting to let it fall into her hands. He swiped it through the scanner by the side of the door, and a small green light flashed above the scanner. The door opened, and they stepped inside.
Immediately after entering the small room, 0 punched a small button, sealing the door behind Serena. He lifted his head, and stared at the simple accommodations that he now called home. He passed through the metal atrium, and the blank walls of his room looked back at him. It was noticeably vacant of any personal items, Serena noted. A desk, a chair, and a bed was all the furniture he had ever bothered to obtain. Underneath the bare bed, which looked more like a cot than anything, was a locker with various clothes. 0 hated all forms of comfort, as he had spent too many years living in the wilderness during his travels. He was more at home on the bare earth than a cozy inn.
Carelessly, he discarded the golden shirt to his bed. Serena licked her lips at the hardened muscles that clad her fellow Ranger’s body. She also noticed a few bruises that he must have obtained during his last mission. 0 kept his back to her, not wanting to expose his pectorals to the light. “0...” he heard Serena’s voice purr to him, which was followed immediately by her arms slinking around his waist. 0 focused his energy on keeping his footing, but Serena once again proved the strange strength of her tiny body, and tossed him into the bed, landing on top of him. Somehow, she had turned him in midair, and he cursed under his breath.
Serena moaned, increasing her grasp on his waist. “My, my, Agent 0. Getting a little frisky, aren’t we?” She ground herself against him, all the while maintaining her grin. “I mean, throwing me on your bed like that… You must really want some White Ranger love…”
0 attempted to remain calm, and retain his composure. “You threw me onto the bed,” he pointed out, forcibly detaching her hands from his waistline. His head was beginning to hurt, he must have hit it against something when they collided with the bed. She stood up, and he remained lying in the bed, a noticeable red tinting his cheeks. “That’s called sexual harassment, 3.”
She stuck her tongue at her superior. “Wrong, Baby-sir. See, that only works if the person above you is sexually harassing you, not the other way around.” She chuckled, while he just shook his head. “Come on,” she urged, producing a small parcel from behind her back, “I have something for you anyway.”
“It had better not be handcuffs again.” 0 shuddered, remembering the time she had decided to give him an impromptu lesson on the various usages of handcuffs, one that had forced him to tear apart his bed to release himself. He rubbed the back of his head, where a small bump was forming as a result of his collision with the bed. “If it is, you’re out of here for good.”
She shook her head, but filed away the idea for future reference. “Even better,” she answered. She tossed him the parcel, and he noticed that the number 0 was printed on the side in gold. “Bakaguru recommended I give this to you. He said that it would make your promotion more official.”
0 felt the package, it seemed to be light and made of fabric. “Just what is this?” he asked, bouncing it with one hand. “Feels like clothes.”
“Correct,” Serena answered, and settled herself down onto the chair. “Put it on, you’ll see for yourself.”
0 sighed. “Okay, but this better not be a trick.” He stood up and tucked the package under his arm. “Be right back.” He walked towards the cramped bathroom to change into the new clothing.
Serena waited until the bathroom door was shut before she stood up. “Now, where’s his underwear drawer?” she wondered aloud, just loud enough for him to hear her. She heard him sway something off the counter inside the bathroom in response, and her emerald eyes glinted as she giggled. The man had yet to figure out the effect he had on women…
“What the hell is this?” 0 demanded from the bathroom, having opened the package and removed its contents. “3, there is no way I am wearing this stupid thing!”
“Put it on!” the White Ranger instructed. “Don’t make me do it for you!” She heard a sigh, and then the ruffle of clothes being removed. 0 must have decided his modesty was worth more than his fashion sense, Serena thought, considering the possibility of simply bursting in on him in the middle of changing clothes, exposing him naked. She resumed her search for anything she could steal from the new Ranger, and looked over to the desk for any clues of the whereabouts of his valuables and delicates.
Her eyes trailed over it briefly, before settling down on the small frame that was placed face down on the desk. Serena glanced briefly at the bathroom door, which was firmly locked, and curiosity overwhelmed her. She had never seen a personal item of 0’s before. She grabbed the small, wooden frame, and checked out the picture on display beneath the glass. It was 0, in his earlier days, but there were others surrounding him.
0 was in the center of a crowd of people. To his immediate right was a tall man with jagged black hair and the eyes of a fox who grinned, his arm around 0’s shoulders. To his left was a younger man, probably in his late teens at the time, who wore glasses and patted 0’s head. There was a woman with the fox-eyed man with bright orange hair, with a smile on her face, her azure eyes sparkling. There was a blue haired girl, and an older woman with auburn hair. There was even a tall man in the background with a sketchpad next to an old man with a lab coat. There were many more people, far too many for Serena to look at. She was focused on the fact that 0 happened to be smiling a true, sincere smile, with his arms wrapped against the body of a young woman with bright brown hair and cool blue eyes.
And in the hands of the woman, a small bundle was wrapped, a little head poking through the fabric with ebony hair, her dark eyes blinking at the bright light around her. Her hair looked exactly like 0’s. Serena felt a lump in her throat, and swallowed it as she stared at the picture.
“Thanks for waiting.” Serena jumped, like a child caught peeking at a present by their parent. 0 exited the door, dressed in his brand new uniform. He dumped his civilian clothes down onto the bed, and stared at himself in disbelief. It was a PKM uniform, similar to hers, but designed for the Golden Ranger. The pants were black, as was the jacket that he wore, but the shirt was bright gold. On the back, just like her, there was a number, a golden 0. He looked up, and his mouth hardened as he noticed what she was holding. “3...” he muttered, walking towards her. “Put that down.”
For some reason, she couldn’t, and stood up, pressing the picture against her chest. “No,” she retorted stubbornly. She looked at the woman in the picture again. “Is this her? The one who hurt you?” She held it up, and pointed to it. “Is she the reason?”
0’s face was blank. “That is the woman that I sacrificed for this, 3,” he answered, lowering his head. “That is our new target, whom we have been assigned to protect. And that-” His throat felt dry as he looked at the bundle in her arms “-is her daughter, Sarah. And people that I called my friends.”
“I know that,” Serena snapped at him, and tossed the frame back down onto the desk. “So, what’s gonna happen, 0? Did you get this assignment on purpose, so that you could get back with her somehow?” 0 didn’t answer, but sat down onto his cot. Serena continued. “Well, that isn’t going to happen, 0.” Her hand clenched into a fist. “You’re too important to this agency.” You’re too important to me.
He shook his head. “I don’t want this like you do, 3. I’ve said that for as long as I can remember. I’m here because I have nowhere else to go now.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to be a Ranger,” he said softly, attempting to control himself. “0 took everything from me. My wife, my friends, and my daughter. Everyone I held dear.” He stood up from the cot, and began to walk towards her, his face hardening into a mask. “You know that feeling just as well as I do, 3.”
She did, and Serena nodded her head. “I know that I’ve lost people, 0, because I came here.” She grabbed him, and shook him, trying to make him understand. “But I haven’t given up yet. I stayed here, and I don’t regret it.” She felt tears in her eyes. “You know who I lost. You know what we went through.” She smacked his face, and he let her. “Where’s your mark, 0! You carry my scars with you, but where’s the one that ties you to that woman!”
Her eyes trailed down his chest, to the golden ring that hung on his chain. “I never take it off,” he answered. “That makes it easier to remember exactly why I’m here, and exactly what I lost to protect her.” He felt his chest, where the scars of his past were more easily accessible underneath his uniform. “I bear your scars too, 3, only the one I carry for my past weighs more heavily on my heart.” He glanced at the morpher on his wrist. “Drop it, because I am not in the mood for any guilt trips today. I’ve become a Ranger. That doesn’t mean I still want any part of this world.”
She nodded her head, though she felt a strange disappointment in her heart. He’s just a plaything, she reminded herself, and shook it off. “Come on, 0,” she said, and started for the door, “Council said that I should show you some things for your Golden Ranger equipment.”
0 just grumbled. Being a Ranger came with too many changes, though at least he wouldn’t have to worry about his wardrobe. For some reason it was already stocked with gold clothing already.
When 0 exited his quarters, he noticed that the agents around him reacted differently. For one, the instant he exited the door, he couldn’t help but catch the fact that about twenty people halted their work to salute him, including one junior agent who dropped a massive stack of paperwork.
“That…isn’t necessary,” he murmured, though he saluted back. Serena just giggled, mostly because this action was repeated at least ten times before they made it to the Research and Development Laboratories, a sub-division of PKM that specialized in the weaponry used by the agents and Rangers. “Why are we here?”
Serena just smirked. “Why do you think we’re here?” she quipped, and stopped just before a pair of tall, pale doors. “We’re here because, as a Ranger, you get all kinds of special goodies. Comes with the territory.” She opened them, and stepped through. Reluctantly, 0 followed her into the realm of the man called Agent 003, or…
“Bakaguru!” the Golden Ranger shouted, the moment he entered Research and Development. The small confines of the lab seemed to shift abruptly as Agent 003 flinched at his voice, his large mass quite able to do so. 0 and Serena found him only a few rooms inside, making final adjustments to a strange motorcycle. 0 leant against the tool table, while Serena glomped the rather large man, though unable to fit her arms around him.
“Miss. Serena,” he murmured in a high, nasally voice. “What brings you down here?” The giant man straightened himself, and rearranged his glasses. “And what’s he doing here?” He pointed a fat finger at 0, who ignored him, his interest stimulated by the vehicle Bakaguru was working on.
“New Golden Ranger, Bakaguru,” Serena explained. “We’re here to set in his stats as a Ranger, and reconfigure the Morpher.”
“What is this?” 0 asked, and pointed to the motorcycle. It was one of the finest machines he had ever seen. It looked like a motorcycle, but hovered off the ground with magnetic repulses. The sleek design was golden and black, exactly like his Ranger uniform, and was obviously meant for going very, very fast. It looked sort of like a modified Kanto cycle, the handles located in special ports rather than extended from the front frame.
“It’s called the 0 Cycle, Gold,” Bakaguru answered. “It’s a special vehicle designed for the Golden Ranger for transportation; It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” He pulled out a rag, and wiped up his greasy head. His matted brown hair glistened with sweat, and he stuck the rag away in his pants before continuing. “The only engineering flaw is that there are no breaks installed, by request of the former Golden Ranger.” He straightened the massive frames of his glasses. “Other than that, it depends on the skill of the driver. It has optimum steering, perfect balance, and a top speed of two hundred miles per hour.”
“Just don’t crash it into a wall,” Serena offered, with a sly grin.
0 groaned, and shook his head. “That’s reassuring, guys,” he muttered. “Is there anything else I should know, like how the steering column works?” He placed a hand onto the surface of his new vehicle. “Have you ever seen me fall off even a scooter, 3? This’ll be a cakewalk. What‘s next?”
Bakaguru pointed to a door on the west side of the laboratory. “Head over there,” he murmured, returning his attention to the motorcycle. “That’s the Golden Ranger’s room, where we keep all your weapons and crap. You’ll need to register your Morpher and Morphing Spirit there, so that you can access this nice 0 Cycle and everything you might need on the job. You can’t carry it around with you.”
“Did you say weapons?”
Bakaguru nodded. “I did. So what?”
“I already have one,” 0 explained. “When I morphed for the first time, me and Pi managed to create this kind of sword. Can’t I just use that?”
The technician’s brows rose. “Excuse me?” he asked. “Did you just say you formed a weapon on your own?” The Ranger nodded. “That’s highly unusual. Your Pokemon’s bond with you must be one of particular potency to do that… I might have to run some tests with Jessie.”
0 smiled. “Hey, is James here too?”
Bakaguru nodded. “Yep. Got them and the Meowth working on something big for ya both. They’ll be in the Weapons Testing room, next door to the Ranger rooms. Keep it legal, you two.” 0’s face crimsoned, while Serena giggled. Bakaguru waved goodbye, before resuming work on the 0 Cycle. “Don’t distract them too much! I have them on a tight leash already for that annoying theme song they whine about all day!”
“Got it!” Serena replied, heading straight for the Golden Ranger room, a small door with bright gold paint on it in the form of a “0” written at the Golden Ranger’s eye level. “Here’s where we keep your crap. Welcome.” She pressed a small control unit on the side of the door, and inputted a small password. The door beeped, and opened. “Come on!” She grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside.
“Wow,” was all he could say. The whole room, and bear it mind it was a decently sized room, was painted in gold and black. It was also mostly empty, save for a giant sword that hung on the wall opposite them. The zanbato he had summoned with Pikachu gleamed in the dim lighting. “Hey, my sword.” He walked over to it, ignoring the comments being made by his partner about size. It seemed bigger to him, a few inches taller than he was, in fact.
“Compensating, Baby-chan?” Serena purred. Then she giggled, tossing her hair out of her eyes. “That’s a nice blade, if you don’t mind me saying… Is it in direct proportion to your ‘short sword’?”
“That is none of your business.”
She just laughed, and motioned for him to follow her. He obliged, and she led him to a computer terminal in the center of the room. “Here’s where the data goes into,” she explained, pointing to the monitor. “And there’s where you need to swipe your Morpher.” She pointed to a small scanner on the side of the machine. “After you do that, we can register everything in this room for you to access at any time. Except the sword, which is weird, considering you shouldn’t have been able to form it without the program. That’s automatically saved to you.”
He nodded. “I think I understood that,” he answered. He held out the Morpher, and rubbed it against the scanner. It beeped, and confirmed him. A giant page about him and his service record came online, displaying his rank as a Ranger, before transferring to a blank, golden screen “Now what?”
“We make them,” she replied sweetly, like a mother explaining to her infant. “Pi, want to lend us a hand?” She pressed a button on the other side of the machine, and 0’s Morpher glowed. He raised it to his face, but an instant later, the face of his Pokemon Spirit emerged on the terminal’s monitor.
“Hello!” Pi chirped, in a very happy voice. 0 grinned. “Nice to see you again, Serena.”
“Same, little buddy,” she said. “I think you’ve lost weight. What’s the secret?”
It laughed. “Get digitized.”
“How’ve you been, Pi?” 0 asked.
“Fine,” it answered. The screen zoomed out, and the Pikachu’s whole body was displayed sitting down lazily, a grin on it’s face. “It’s nice in here, sort of. I guess it’ll take some getting use to, but it’s better than a Pokeball. At least here I can create programs to roam in virtual reality. Though I do sort of miss having to eat…” It stopped talking, and stood up. “So, what exactly do you need?”
Serena shrugged. “Nothing much. We just need to run a few tests to make sure that as a Ranger Spirit, you’re properly connected to your Ranger. Then we need to activate his secondary weapon, considering you already made the primary one for him earlier.”
“I did?” it asked, confused. “Oh, you mean the sword. I didn’t make that. He did.”
Serena swerved towards 0, who wisely remained silent. “Well, we’ll check out the creation of that sword later. For now, think you can give me a hand?”
“Certainly.” Pikachu opened a file, and began to create a weapon. “What kind of weapon did you have in mind?”
“Tradition has always stated that all Rangers normally have one melee weapon and one projectile weapon,” Serena answered. “Considering you both already created the melee weapon in the form of the giant sword, how does a blaster, or something like that, sound?” She turned to 0 for his opinion.
“That sounds fine to me,” he stated, and folded his arms. “Good offensive.”
“Okay. I should be able to cook something up,” the little mouse answered, and closed its eyes. “How does this look to you?” The program it had opened shifted, altering into a weapon. “Here comes the gun weapon!”
0 felt hard metal form in his hands, and a bright light flashed from the computer and his hands. A teleportation, he reasoned, as the weapon began to form in his hands. It was golden, and black, just like the theme of the Golden Ranger’s uniform. The weapon resembled a sawn-off shotgun with twin chambers. “How will that work?” Pi asked its trainer.
“Interesting,” Serena muttered. “It’s a lot smaller than the other one.” It fitted perfectly for one-handed usage, which would free up the other arm for attacking.
“That’ll do, Pi,” 0 decided, with a grin. He twirled the handle in his fingers, but didn’t fire. “I might need some practice using it, but I’m a fast learner.”
“Rangers don’t need practice,” Serena interjected. “All Ranger uniforms come equipped with programs to help you fight with your weapons, considering the inexperience some Rangers can have with the weapons their Spirits create.”
“Pi, disable that,” 0 murmured, and stopped playing with his gun. “I want it all natural.” Pi squeaked its approval, but the White Ranger shook her head.
“Let’s call it the Lightning Laser,” the Pikachu suggested.
0 shook his head. “Something better, Pi. Nothing clichéd.”
“My weapon. My name.”
“My weapon. My having to call out its name.”
“Overruled,” Serena murmured, setting in the name on the computer. With another flash of light, the Lightning Laser vanished from 0’s right hand. “Next, the name of the sword.”
“Bolt Blade,” Pi answered with enthusiasm, its face grinning. 0 groaned, but Serena smiled, inputting the name. The Bolt Blade glowed, but stayed where it was, while the Lightning Laser emerged on the wall beside it, ready to be summoned.
“Such originality,” 0 grunted, rubbing his head. “We need anything else?
Serena shook her head. “Nope. That’ll do it. Thanks for the assist Pi.”
“Not a problem, 3,” the Pikachu replied cheerfully. “Please feel free to contact me should you require anything else.” The screen flared, then Pikachu vanished, downloaded back into the Morpher, and waiting for summoning by 0.
Serena rolled her eyes. “I think Pi has more personality than you do, Baby-chan,” she giggled. 0 sighed, she had already forgotten their earlier quarrel. “I think he’s the side of you that remembers a tiny thing called fuuuuuun.”
“I’ll file that away in my brain,” he retorted dully. He turned round, and started out of the room. “I think we’re done here. Let’s get ready for the mission. Be ready in two hours.” Serena heard the door open, and shut.
She fumed, and stood up. “I need to get laid,” she growled to herself. “And that boy’s the only one who will do…” She grinned, and headed out the doorway. Like 0, she too had things to prepare. Namely several cases of luggage filled with clothing.
***
When 0 returned to his quarters, he cleared out his room. It didn’t take very long, considering he had few personal possessions; all he really was going to need was extra clothing for his cover. He grabbed the locker underneath his bed and hauled it onto his desk, opening it to check its contents. A few Pokeballs from the old days, all emptied of course. When he had joined PKM and left his family, he had been lucky to get away with only Pikachu. The rest were with Professor Oak, his old rival. “Hope Gary’s taking good care of them with Tracey,” he muttered. He ignored the photos, and dumped some of his clothing inside. “Pi, how are we doing on time?”
“We have one hour, thirty minutes, and twenty-seven seconds. And counting.”
0 nodded. “That’s good.” He looked onto the desk and grabbed the picture that Serena had messed with. He sighed. “Pi, can I ask you something about this mission?”
“Certainly,” the Pokemon answered. “Would you like to know anything further about the mission specs or the details?”
“Neither.” The Golden Ranger picked up the gun and knife he kept underneath his cot, and tucked the weapons into his holsters beneath his clothing. “It’s 3. Do you think she has some sort of ulterior motive in coming with me on this assignment?”
“Well, since you are going to be partners on this mission, I think you should start by calling her by her name, rather than her designation,” it suggested. “For all the trouble you think she causes you, I think she’s genuinely concerned about you. She is your friend.”
0 laughed. “She annoys me,” he murmured, stashing away some food from his stores into the locker. He found only a few bottles of beer, but he took what he could find, along with several doses of serum. “She lives to make me feel uncomfortable, Pi.”
“Don’t worry about it too much,” the Pikachu replied soothingly. “I recall you used to be just like her a few years ago. Guess it comes with adulthood and all. Maybe she’s trying to help you have some fun. I know for a fact you could use some.”
“I was not a horndog when I was young,” 0 grumbled, shutting the locker. “And I didn’t let myself get worked up over a little photo.” He pulled out the strap on the locker, and slung it over his shoulder. He looked at the picture, and groaned. “I miss those days, Pi. But I also know that they can’t happen again.” He tucked the picture away into his pockets and started for the door. “This isn’t a fairy tale. It doesn’t have a happy ending for me.”
“It would if you’d let it, friend,” Pikachu answered.
“Let’s just get going,” 0 said, terminating the conversation. He exited the room, and started directly for the hangers. It wouldn’t take long, but he liked to be early. It helped him make his decisions when he had more time to make them. His door hissed shut behind him, and he didn’t look back, his attention focused on the narrow corridor ahead of him.
“Do not salute,” he ordered a passerby, who had the look in their eye of a new recruit, who still obeyed the guidebook to the letter. “I hate salutes.” The recruit, who seemed to be very scared, wisely followed the direction he was given, and ran for cover. 0 grinned. “I like this.”
“Don’t scare newbies,” his Pokemon reprimanded him.
“Why?”
“Because it…isn’t nice?”
0 snorted. “Whatever gave you the impression I was a nice person?” he asked the mouse. “I’m not a nice person.”
“Yes you are.”
“Shut up.”
“Nope.”
0 decided not to argue with Pi, and turned left. The hangers weren’t located too far away from the living quarters, considering PKM had to be on standby twenty-four-seven for deployment. Serena had told him the departure was at the second hanger, so he had naturally made absolutely certain that that was true. Sighing, he opened the door to the first hanger, where a private helicopter was waiting for him on the launch pad. Personnel were handling it, making sure it was at optimum performance before departure.
“Hello, sir,” a voice behind him quipped, and he jumped. A small technician was smiling at him through dark-rimmed glasses, her hair in a bundled up ponytail. “How are you doing this evening, sir?”
“You called me ‘sir’ already,” he muttered. “You can stop.”
“Okay sir,” she answered on impulse, before bending back into her clipboard. “Would you like a report on the efficiency of the helicopter you will be piloting? Do you know how to pilot this craft? If so, would you like me to take you to a simulation?”
0 held up three fingers. “No, yes, and hell no,” he answered, counting down each answer on his fingers. “The only thing I want to know is where the nearest beer is.”
“Alcohol should not be consumed before flight, sir, as it decreases the brain’s ability to properly handle the controls of a flying craft,” she pointed out, pointing the eraser end of a pencil at him. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Please get someone to get me a beer, since I work better with it in my system.” He lifted his hand, and gave her a thumb’s up. “Do so now. Posthaste, in fact.”
She grumbled, but he put his thumb on the bright golden 0 on his uniform, so she obeyed, scurrying off somewhere. “That wasn’t nice,” Pi muttered from his watch.
“I’m not nice, and I’d like some booze while I wait for 3 to pack every single shred of cloth she owns. It‘s gonna be a while.”
And he was correct. Fifteen minutes later, the technician returned with a frosty cold mug of ale, and he thanked her kindly. He asked her to then leave, and she did, returning to her other duties for the helicopter launch, and he waited for Serena to reemerge. Which she did ninety minutes later, with numerous grunt Agents in tow, carrying her belongings.
“Well, that took you long enough,” he sighed, and watched as the poor, backbreaking Agents began to load the helicopter with her belongings. “Ten bucks says the machine doesn’t hold all your junk.” Serena fumed, but sat down beside him.
“Is that all you brought?” she asked incredulously, pointing at the locker by his feet.
“It’s all I need,” he answered. He took another sip. “Anyway, what’s the big deal with being so late? Is it really necessary to pack so many clothes?” Then his hand shook, as he noticed what she was wearing. “And why exactly are you dressed like that?” The touch of red stained his cheeks for only an instant, but an instant was all Serena needed for ammunition.
She wasn’t wearing her uniform anymore, far from it. Having opted for something more causal, she now wore jeans so tight they looked painted on. Her navel was showing too, considering the white shirt that hung on her on spaghetti straps only reached to the middle of her stomach. A few bracelets adorned her arms, disguising the white morpher on her right hand, while her snowy locks were bundled up into a bun. Needless to say, the majority of her helpers were male.
“I like it,” she decided. “You can’t go out in public in military gear, Baby-chan. We’re gonna have to take you shopping.”
“Not going to happen,” he retorted, and took another swig of ale. “Besides, I’ll change once we reach the safe house in Petalburg.” He scratched his head. “I have clothing of my own, none of which look like that.”
“You sound like my father,” she murmured, pushing her seat next to his. 0 noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra, simply from her proximity. “I want to have fun on this mission, so I wanted to wear something that would help me blend in with the surrounding culture.”
“I’m fairly certain that you will not blend in wearing that,” he muttered, looking away. “You will be standing out in the crowds.” The technician came over, thankfully interrupting the ever-uncomfortable conversation.
“We’ve loaded all of Ms. Brine’s equipment into the helicopter,” she announced. “Would you like to proceed to the helicopter for takeoff?”
“Thanks. We will.” 0 stood up, and lugged his locker in the direction of the helipad. The chopper in question was small, and black. For covert operations, he thought to himself, opening the door. He threw the locker underneath the seat, and took his place in the captain’s chair. “Get in, 3.”
“Lock and load,” she replied eagerly, climbing into the co-pilot chair. “Any chance of joining the mile high club while we’re up there?”
“Not a snowball’s chance in Hades,” he retorted, placing on an earpiece for communication. “This is Poke 122, requesting permission for takeoff.” He glanced over at Serena, who had placed on a helmet for protection. “All parties ready for liftoff.”
“This is control tower,” crackled a voice into his ear. “Poke 122, you have been cleared for takeoff. Opening shuttle doors now. Takeoff at will.”
“Will comply,” 0 answered, and buckled himself into his machine. The hanger doors ahead began to open, revealing to 0 the startling moonlight of the Orre desert. He punched a button, and gripped the throttle of the helicopter. Serena, always the daredevil, stuck her head out of the window, grinning as the chopper blades began to swing above their heads. “Let’s get going, 3.”
“Good luck, Rangers,” the control tower said.
“Roger.” 0 felt the strange jerk of motion as the chopper lifted itself from the ground. He pulled the controls up, and the chopper lurched forward. “Get your head in the chopper, 3,” he ordered, noticing that she hadn’t bothered to even buckle her seatbelt. “Do so now.” Then he grinned, and jerked the chopper around in the air, banging her head against the window. “I said get ready.”
Serena stuck her tongue at him, rubbed her head, and returned to her seat. 0 pushed on the throttle, and the craft began moving forward. “Adios, PKM,” he sighed, as the helicopter reached the optimum altitude to properly launch from PKM’s hangers. “Are you ready for the mission, 3?”
“Yeah,” she answered, strapping herself into her seat.
“I wonder how Hoenn is at this time of year,” he sighed. “It’s been a long time since I was sent out there… This should be entertaining.” Ahead of them, the bright Orre desert bloomed into their sights, an endless sea of desert that spanned the horizon. “It’s bright. I wish I had the shades.”
Both Rangers discontinued any conversation.
______________________
'Till later, everyone. Next Morph has a funny title!
