A light sea breeze lifted the gossamer curtains of the governor general’s study. He absently reached out and pinned down a stack of loose papers with the fingertips of his left hand while he used his right to affix his signature with a flourish to yet another edict. The cries of Wingull came through the open window, and his Mightyena looked up from his place at the hearth. “At ease, Titus,” Maximillian said before blowing on his page to dry the ink. When he was satisfied it would not blot, he moved the sheet to the finished pile and examined his ink-stained fingers. He delicately washed them in a small bowl of clear water he kept by his desk for just such a purpose and dried them with a soft towel.
Maximillian glanced at the stately clock on his wall and grunted. It was a little late for the midday meal, but surely the kitchens could manage something. He rang the bell for his manservant. When the black-suited man appeared at the door of his study, the governor general instructed him to fetch him some light fare, and perhaps a haunch of meat for Titus. When Hastings had disappeared, Titus padded over to Maximillian’s side and was rewarded with a scratch behind the ears for his trouble. Maximillian rose to his feet and stepped out onto his balcony overlooking Slateport harbor. Wrinkling his nose against the pervasive reek of fish baking in the sun, he surveyed his domain. Merchant ships vied for position with Hoennian naval vessels. Innumerable fishing vessels glided between the docked behemoths as they made their way out to the open water beyond the harbor’s protective shoals. Under his administration, the bustling port city ran smoother than ever before, and he had lined both its coffers and his own pockets with its spoils.
With an absentminded gesture, he readjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose as he watched the large white sails of a merchant galleon fill with the sea air as it was guided out of the harbor and onto the open sea. Behind him, Hastings cleared his throat as he took a plate of sandwiches and fresh fruit from a platter and placed on a cleared corner of the governor general’s desk. He then set down a haunch of Miltank thigh for Titus, and the Mightyena set about gnawing it with relish. “The tea will be up in just a moment, sir.”
“Very good, Hastings.” Maximillian had just lifted the first of the sandwiches to his lips when his lieutenant commander burst into his office.
“Governor general, sir!” Tabitha said, snapping off a brusque salute. His broad face was flushed, and he was panting.
Maximillian put down the sandwich with a sigh and returned the salute. “For Arceus’s sake boy, catch your breath and then tell me what’s got you in such a state.” As far as Maximillian was concerned, the lad was worth keeping around because he accomplished everything he was set to quickly and efficiently, but he wished Tabitha was a tad less excitable.
After a moment of wheezing, Tabitha managed to compose himself. “Sir, a small fleet of ships flying unfamiliar colors is approaching from the east.”
“Tabitha, my boy, we are one of the busiest ports in the world. I must see half a hundred unfamiliar flags every day. Why bother me about these?”
“Sir, the fleet has sent demands.” Demands? That certainly was a break from protocol. “And they were signed by him.”
Maximillian bit back a curse. It was improper to use such language in front of one’s subordinates. The governor general hadn’t heard anything but vague rumors about him since he had been forced to retreat from his disastrous assault on Lilycove with his tail between his legs and most of his ships scuttled. Three years, he had bided his time, no doubt skulking around the outer islands of the archipelago and seizing unsuspecting merchants to swell his numbers again. Maximillian removed his glasses to massage his temples and took a seat at his desk. “All right, let’s have it then. What does Archibald want?”
Tabitha drew a stained piece of parchment from his strained waistcoat and placed it on the desk before Maximillian. The governor unfolded it and scoffed. “He has some nerve styling himself as Admiral Stern.” He crumpled the parchment and tossed it in the fireplace. “And if we don’t deliver his exorbitant sum in a timely manner?”
“He does not specify, but I would assume the usual threats, sir.”
Which meant an attempt at razing the port to the ground, seizing anything his band of ruffians and privateers could get their filthy hands on, and scuttling as many ships as they could. Maximillian scoffed. “Well, they are more than welcome to try. Tell me, Tabitha, what is Archibald’s principal mistake in this endeavor?”
Tabitha puffed himself up. “Why, that he fancies that he has the nerve to threaten Slateport while it is under your aegis!”
Maximillian chuckled. “While that is certainly true, I am speaking more of his tactical blunder. Archibald has always been a showman, and he could never resist a chance to grandstand, and in so doing he has robbed himself of the element of surprise. How many ships are there in this fleet of his?”
“We estimate somewhere between fifteen and twenty.”
Though he was loathe to admit it, it was a respectable total. It might even have had the governor general of a backwater like Rustboro or Petalburg quaking in his boots. But this was Slateport, and he was Maximillian Augustus Sargent. It took far more than a swaggering upstart like Archibald Stern and a ragtag fleet to unsteady him. “Tabitha, alert the guardsmen and instruct them to prepare the cannons, and send word that I want Interceptor and Caliburnus made ready to sail out to meet Stern with their battle groups.”
“But what if Stern has more ships lying in wait to ambush us when we commit our finest ships?”
“You seem to forget Valiant is in harbor with her group preparing for her southern patrol, and Eroica will be returning by this evening. I will send word to Commodores Drake and Lawrence to make ready for a surprise attack. You see, that was Archibald’s second fatal error. He brought twenty ships to bear on a man who has fifty.”
While Tabitha scrambled to deliver his orders, Maximillian left the governor’s offices and cut his way across the district to his estate, a sprawling manor that commanded some of the best views of the city. Titus trotted along at his heels, and the crowd in the street split before him. The governor general often eschewed hansom cabs and carriages, preferring to let the citizens of Slateport see him about. As such, he was known to everyone, and all gave him his due. When he arrived at the door, he instructed his manservant to fetch his military uniform.
He strolled through the drawing room and dining room of his home, with their glittering crystal chandeliers and gilded accents. “Courtney,” he called.
After a slight delay, he heard an answering “Yes?” from the solarium, and he found his ward lounging against the flank of her Arcanine, reading a novel in a pool of sunlight. Maximillian waited for her to glance up at him, and when she did, he slowly shook his head. “You’ll get dust on your dress. Please, use a stool.” The girl rolled her eyes and made no attempt to move. Maximillian sighed. “Courtney, there may be some unpleasantness around the harbor today. I will be instructing a cohort of the town guards to protect the manor, so please, do not try to interfere. Do you understand?”
His niece shrugged and went back to her book. Knowing that was the best he was going to get out of her, Maximillian turned on his heel and ascended the sweeping main staircase to his chambers. His butler had already laid out the governor general’s uniform, complete with his ochre coat edged with gold. His saber and pistol were in their carved oak box at the foot of the bed. After Maximillian had dressed and armed himself, he descended to the main courtyard and opened the door to his private stable. Titus sat just outside the door, his tail flicking back and forth. Gaius looked up from his feed trough and lowed, and Maximillian reached over and scratched the Camerupt behind his ears as he lifted the stall’s latch. “It seems we’re to have some excitement, old boy.” Gaius obediently plodded out of his stall and out into the afternoon sun. Maximillian put two fingers to his lips and whistled. A purple shape detached itself from the eaves and alighted on his shoulder, sharp claws digging into the leather padding placed there for just such a reason. Maximillian reached up rubbed a hand through the Crobat’s soft down. “Yes Lucius, you get to come too.”
A hoof tapped against the wooden door of the stall across the aisle. Maximillian turned and smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be with me today, Agrippina.” His Rapidash huffed out a breath, and the governor general took a handful of oats from a bucket just out of her reach and held his hand out to her. “I’ll be putting to sea today, but I will take you out for a long gallop once I’ve settled this rotten business, I swear it.”
Lucius scurried down his coat and searched his pockets for sweets until Maximillian brushed him off. The Crobat flitted over to roost on one of the rocky spars that jutted from Gaius’s back. With a nod, Maximillian closed up the stable and led his pokemon back to the admiralty offices. In the short time he had been gone, the wharves had burst into activity. Tabitha and other senior officers barked orders as sailors made their ships ready to sail out to meet Archibald’s ragtag fleet.
When Tabitha saw him, he hastened over. “Sir, ought we load Gaius onto Caliburnus now?”
“Yes, let’s.”
Gaius allowed himself to be led into a specially designed harness that would inflate with buoyant gasses should he be pitched into the sea in naval combat. While the floats would not last indefinitely, they would provide enough time for a rescue party to secure him to another ship and raise him aboard. The winch and pulley lifted the Camerupt into the air and set him down on the deck of Maximillian’s flagship. The fire type wavered back and forth for a moment as it found its footing on the deck before turning to the feed bale placed near the drop site for just such a purpose.
Maximillian followed with Titus and Lucius up the gangplank, nodding in greeting to the men under his command. His pilot was already at the wheel, consulting with his Castform. The man, a Mr. Morcant, saluted when he saw the governor general. “Sir! Whisk here is saying that we ought to have clear skies and a steady wind. We’re ready to sail as soon as you give the order.”
“Very good, Mr. Morcant,” Maximillian said. He turned and watched several sailors and a group of Machoke position the cannons. A cabin boy sprinted across the deck with his Wartortle, furiously mopping the boards as he did so. To starboard, Maximillian saw Bess, Tabitha’s own Camerupt, being lifted into position on Interceptor. Though he had recommended many suitably impressive names for the beast, Tabitha had insisted on calling her Bess, of all things. Well, Maximillian supposed, you could take the boy out of the provinces, but you can’t take the provincial out of the boy.
By midafternoon, the ships were ready to sail, and Maximillian stood at the prow of Caliburnus as they exited the harbor in orderly formation. People lined the breakwaters and cheered as the ships glided past, and the cannons stationed along the shore thundered out a salute. With his hands clasped behind his back and his feet spread shoulder length apart, coat flapping in the sea breeze, Maximillian knew he cut an impressive figure just as the governor general ought. He moved one hand to rest on Titus’s head, and the Mightyena bared his teeth in a lupine grin.
Like Morcant had predicted, the seas were calm and the wind favorable. The two fleets cut across the waves, and soon a dark mass began to form on the eastern horizon. “Ships ho!” the lookout shouted.
“Raise the colors!” Maximillian called, and soon the flag of Slateport was flying over every ship in the fleet. “Make ready for battle! Prepare to engage! Show these bastards what happens when pirates threaten Slateport!”
His men cheered as the indistinct smudge on the far horizon resolved itself into the pirate fleet. One of Maximillian’s midshipmen approached him at the prow and saluted. “Sir, we’ll be on them shortly. How should I direct Mr. Morcant?”
“Have him continue on this course,” Maximillian replied.
“But governor general, sir, you don’t intend to ram them? Surely we ought to prepare a broadside or—”
Maximillian cut the young man off with a flick of his wrist. “Have the men prepare the cannons to fire, but hold the current course. Mr. Morcant will know what to do.” He turned to look at the midshipman. “And in the future, it would behoove you not to question the orders of your superiors.”
“Y-yes, governor general, sir!” The midshipman ran off to deliver his orders. Maximillian saw him speak to Mr. Morcant, and the pilot shrugged. He had served under Maximillian long enough to know what the governor general was playing at. Even now, after all his years in the navy, he still didn’t approve of the maneuver, but he couldn’t deny how effective it had proved to be.
Maximillian waved over his signalman and instructed him to alert Tabitha on the Interceptor. The man quickly relayed the order in semaphore, and Maximillian saw his lieutenant commander take his place beside Bess on the prow. “Any moment now, Gaius,” Maximillian murmured. He watched the distance between the two fleets close, furiously working through the necessary calculations in his head. “All right. Fire!”
Gaius bellowed and expelled a burst of molten stone from the vents on his back. The superheated rock arced through the air and plummeted through the sails of one of the lead ships in Archibald’s fleet. The pirates began swarming about the rigging to smother the flames before it could spread. Bess and Gaius continued their eruptions to sow chaos among Archibald’s ranks as the first and second battle groups fanned out on the flanks, presenting their broadsides.
Maximillian took a speaking trumpet from a waiting ensign and cleared his throat. “We are here to accept your unconditional surrender.”
A man in a blue kerchief with a Chatot on his shoulder shoved his way to the front of his ship. “Stick it up your arse, governor general!”
“Up your arse!” the Chatot echoed.
“I was hoping you would say that,” Maximillian said. He drew his saber. “Men, prepare to engage! Broadsides, fire!” The roar of the cannons filled the air as the projectiles ripped through the front ranks of the pirate fleet. “Make ready to draw up and board!” He reached down and scratched Titus’s ear. “Stay on me, old boy.”
Morcant guided Caliburnus alongside Archibald’s flagship. Maximillian happened to glance down and saw that the ship had been named the Salty Hag, painted in crude rough brushstrokes. He tried not to roll his eyes. A handful of naval men and their fighting types swung across to the pirate ships from ropes in the rigging while their comrades fixed wooden planks to the deck to make the crossing on foot. The sea frothed as the pirates’ aquatic pokemon seethed beneath the surface. Even as his cannons were tearing through the hulls of Archibald’s ships, he had no doubt that packs of Archibald’s Sharpedo were attempting to do the same thing beneath the waves.
Once the first of the boards were secured, he raised his saber above his head. “Men of Slateport, rally on me! For victory!”
“For victory!” his men roared back.
With a wordless cry, Maximillian and Titus charged across the board and onto the deck of the Salty Hag. When he engaged the first of the pirates, he feinted high, and when the swashbuckler took the bait, he went low and cut the man’s hamstrings, sending him tumbling to the deck. Titus snarled as he scratched and bit at a Linoone, and Lucius spiraled overhead battering Golbat and Pelipper. There was a deep bellow as a Machoke barreled across the deck directly at him. Maximillian raised his sword, but knew that at this range the fighting type had him. There was the sharp crack of a pistol and the beast dropped. Maximillian glanced around and saw the young midshipman he had reprimanded earlier briskly reloading his gun. Their eyes met, and Maximillian gave him a nod.
He whistled to his pokemon, and they began to fight their way across the deck to where he was sure Archibald would be. He fought his way to the stern and climbed the flight of stairs to the helm. Archibald lounged against the railing, feigning disinterest in the chaos on the deck below. His Mightyena lay at his feet. At the wheel stood the insufferable harlot he insisted was the best pilot on the Hoennian seas. An odd blue simian unlike any pokemon Maximillian had seen chittered on her shoulder.
Archibald smiled when he heard the thud of Maximillian’s boots. “Well hullo there, old boy. I was wondering when you were going to get here. Do you like my ship? I named it for my dear old mother, rest her soul.”
“Of course you did.”
“Still going to ask me for my unconditional surrender, old boy?”
“Shove it up your arse, Archibald,” Maximillian growled through clenched teeth.
“Arse!” Archibald’s Chatot squawked.
Maximillian ignored it. “I gave you a chance to do this the easy way, and I’m rather gratified you didn’t take it.” He levelled his saber. “It’s only right I put an end to you myself.”
Archibald drew his cutlass. “I’ve always loved it when you get fired up like this, Maxie. I suppose we can have a dance for old time’s sake. Shelly, my dear, I’m going to ask you to stay out of this one.”
The woman shrugged. “Whatever you say, cap’n.”
Archibald grinned that mad grin of his. “All right then, Sammy! Let’s get him!” He and his Mightyena charged. Black Sam tackled Titus to the deck and the two Mightyena wrestled and snarled, neither one able to gain the upper hand. Maximillian parried Archibald’s first swing, but when he moved to counterattack, Archibald threw up a block. Lucius screamed down from the rigging, only to be intercepted by Archie’s Chatot. The pirate glanced up. “Watch the wings on that one, Calico!” The Chatot trilled something in reply, battering away at Lucius with wings held as rigid as steel swords.
Archibald and Maximillian traded blows, scoring a small touch here, a shallow cut there, but neither man flagged. They matched blow for blow, parry for parry, step for step. They were, as always, too evenly matched.
In their youth, Maximillian Sargent and Archibald Stern had been comrades and even friends, after a fashion. Though he had purchased his commission as a naval officer and Archibald had been just an enlisted man who had risen rapidly through the ranks by good fortune and exceptional maritime skills. They had been the Hoenn navy’s rising stars, with the admiralty pinning progressively higher hopes on them each time they returned to shore to receive honors.
They had become captains within the same battle group, and Archibald’s hot-blooded temper had proved the ideal foil for Maximillian’s cold calculation. Under Rear-Admiral Stone they had put down the Bone Hand privateers in the outer islands and later had been instrumental in the capture of the Dread Captain Redbeard. Maximillian still counted the day that Redbeard hanged as the happiest of his life, and one of his proudest accomplishments.
In the celebration in Port Lilycove, Maximillian and Titus had gone to seek some peace and quiet on the hill overlooking the city. Archibald had found them there, with Black Sam padding on his heels. He held up a bottle of rum with a triumphant grin and popped the cork off it with a flourish. After taking a long pull, he handed the bottle to Maximillian. “A present from Mum. She sends her regards.” Maximillian had been hesitant to drink grog from a *****house, but after some good-natured cajoling he relented. Archibald’s eyes had shone as they looked out over the fleet assembled in the harbor. “I hear they’re going to honor us for this. With the prize money alone, I can afford to buy Mum a bar, a fancy one, with columns and a portico and everything. I’m thinking we call it the Gilded Lily.”
“And would you still run a *****house on the upper floors?”
Archibald scoffed. “No, when it’s all respectable-like, you got to call it a brothel.” He laughed again. “What’ll you do with your cut of the prize?”
“Buy a villa, I don’t doubt. Father’s manor is all well and good, but Fallabor is a backwater. I’m thinking of setting myself up in Slateport, finding a wife—”
“And lead the boring life of an admiralty man, yes, how predictable.”
“The admiralty admires respectability.” He had glanced over at Archibald. “Sooner or later word will get out that your pilot is a woman. She can’t keep playing at Polly Oliver forever. The admiralty won’t like that.”
“The admiralty can shove it up their arse.”
Archibald had echoed the same sentiment three days later when they had been called to high command and summarily promoted. Archibald had been made a commodore, and Maximillian had been elevated straight to rear-admiral to replace the vacancy Stone had left in his step up to vice-admiral. “So he gets to be rear-admiral?” Archibald had screamed. “You all know I was the one who took Redbeard’s surrender! I captured more of the Bone Hands than anyone in the damned fleet! But because his blood’s bluer than mine you jump him up two ranks? Because I’m the filthy son of a dockworker and *****, I should count my lucky stars that you let me rise this high? You can shove that right up your arse!”
“Archibald, settle down,” Maximillian had hissed through clenched teeth. “You know I love you like a brother, and I will do everything I can to make this right. We ought to rise together.”
Archibald had whirled on him, his face red with naked fury. “I’m just supposed to sit on my hands while I wait for you to drag me along on your coattails, Maxie? I’m sure I will make rear-admiral someday, but only because you went and got yourself promoted to vice!” He turned on his heel and stalked from the hall. “To hell with all of you. I’ll find another way to rule the sea, and then I’ll tear your precious admiralty down.”
When the door slammed behind Archibald, Admiral Norton had made a mark on his ledger, glanced over the top of his spectacles. “Well,” he had said. “It seems we are in need of a new commodore. Rear-Admiral Sargent, do you have any recommendations?”
As the years had passed, Maximillian had heard of Archibald’s movements second and third-hand. After spending some time languishing in obscurity in the southern seas, he had made several daring bids for large prizes, succeeding about as often as he failed. But for the past three years, Archibald’s reported movements had become increasingly more erratic. There were reports of him attacking a ship chartered by monks returning from Johto with a cargo of textiles and taking nothing. Another unsubstantiated report claimed that his ship had passed through the straits around Lilycove under cover of darkness and sailing up Pyre Bay, but when dawn came, there was no sign of him. There seemed to be no logic to his movements, and when Maximillian allowed himself to think about his old friend, he had begun to wonder if Archibald had not gone completely insane.
Insane or not, Archibald had kept his sword work in top form. Maximillian was well known to be one of the finest fencers in Slateport, despite getting a little long in the tooth. But Archibald was pushing him harder than any opponent in recent years. Still, for Archibald’s savage intensity, he lacked form and finesse, and that made him predictable. Maximillian managed to slip past his guard and send Archibald’s cutlass clattering to the deck. The sound caught Black Sam unawares, and Titus managed to pin the other Mightyena and take Sam’s neck in his jaws. A slight shake of Titus’s head warned Black Sam what would happen if he continued to struggle. Lucius shrieked and dug his claws into Calico, driving the Chatot to the deck and pinning him.
Maximillian held his saber against Archibald’s neck. “Archie, for what it’s worth… I am dreadfully sorry it turned out like this.”
As he drew back for the final blow, a torrent of water struck his face and knocked him off balance, coughing and spluttering all the while. As he tried to regain his composure, he heard the harlot laugh and say, “Good job, Toby.”
When Maximillian wiped the water from his eyes, he saw the blue simian looking at him with a self-satisfied smirk. Archibald had regained his cutlass, but it hung lazily in his hand. “Thank you, Miss Shelly.”
“You said this was between the two of us!”
Archibald shrugged. “I’m a pirate, old boy. If you didn’t think I would lie and cheat, you’re dumber than you look.” He took a blue medallion with a large blue gem off from around his neck. “Now Maxie, my lad, for the friendship we once shared, I’m going to let you see something truly incredible.” He held the medallion aloft, and the blue gemstone glowed in the late afternoon light.
Shelley’s eyes went wide. “Cap’n, wait! I don’t think that’s the best—”
Lightning split the blue sky, followed by a sharp crack of thunder. Archibald howled with laughter. “Shelly, my dear, the time for waiting is over!” Maximillian could only watch in mute amazement as dark clouds gathered above the ships. Lightning flashed, throwing the battle into sharp relief every few seconds. His senior officers tried to shout orders, but the sound was lost in the thunderclaps. A heavy rain lashed at the sailor’s faces as the ocean’s surface roiled. Archibald grabbed Maximillian by the collar and dragged him to the stern railing and pointed at the waves. “Watch there, old boy!”
“Archibald, what are you doing?”
“I told you all those years ago! I’m going to rule the seas and destroy the admiralty!” He laughed again. “How fitting it is you offered yourself up as the first Mareep to be sacrificed to my leviathan!” A red light glowed in the depth, growing brighter with each frenzied pulse of Maximillian’s heart. Something massive was coming to the surface.
“Archibald, you didn’t…”
“I woke the bloody giant is what I did!” Archibald roared.
At that moment, the dark shape burst from beneath the waves, soaring high above the warring ships and crashing down on the far side. As it passed overhead, it was illuminated from behind by a flash of lightning, and Maximillian knew, for the first time in his life, what true abject terror felt like.
“You woke Kyogre?” he demanded. “By Arceus, Archibald, that monster is supposed to be a myth!”
Archibald held his medallion aloft, and Maximillian saw that it was not the sun that had made it glint so. The gemstone glowed with an internal light. Kyogre rounded on the fleet and raised its bulk out of the water. A great column of water shot from its maw, piercing straight through the hulls of two of Maximillian’s ships. The ships groaned and listed dangerously before they began to sink beneath the waves. The crews screamed as they tried to escape the pull of the ocean, clambering over each other to get into lifeboats. Most of them did not make it even that far.
Maximillian struggled to find his words. “Why are you doing this?”
“The admiralty is corrupt. The government is corrupt. People like me, like my crew, we work our whole lives just to make ends meet so that people like you can live in your gold palaces. The system is broken, Maximillian, and it’s up to me to fix it. I’ll use Kyogre’s power to sweep across the whole damn region and then, when the waters recede I’ll build it even better! People will rise on their merits, not on their family name!”
Maximillian gestured wildly at Kyogre. “That thing is a physical god! Do you truly believe you can control that kind of power?”
“Control it? I don’t need to control it! All I have to do is make sure I’ve pointed it in the right direction.”
“Think of all the innocent lives that will be lost!”
“If you want to make wine you have to crush a few grapes, old boy.” Archibald whirled on Shelly. “Set course for Slateport.” Then he turned back to Maximillian. “Listen. You don’t need to get involved in this. Take your men and your ships and sail away. Take the long way ‘round to Fallabor. I doubt the waters will reach that far. Ride out the storm and help me build the new Hoenn. I need a man like you.” Archibald held out his right hand. “Join me, and we can rule together.”
Maximillian held his gaze, sheathed his saber and smiled. Archibald smiled back, and that was when Maximillian shot him.
Archibald held a hand to the bleeding wound in his chest. “You bastard! We were supposed to rise together! You were my best friend!”
Maximillian tossed aside the now-useless pistol and glared down at him. “The Archibald I knew is dead.” He whistled to his pokemon and sprinted down the stairs to the deck. “Men of Slateport!” he shouted. “Fall back! Retreat! Hoist all sails and return to port!”
Marines hastily broke off engagements and streamed across the boards back to their own ships. Cannons thundered out one last exchange as helmsmen hurried to comply with the governor general’s orders. When Maximillian had fought his way back to Caliburnus, he first checked to ensure that Gaius was safe before shoving his way to the helm. “Mr. Morcant, status report!”
The pilot shook his head. “Sir, I got a bad feeling about this. As soon as that monster showed up the weather went straight to hell. Whisk can’t keep up with it.”
Maximillian nodded. “Once again, Mr. Morcant, you state the obvious. I want us to make for Slateport at all speed. I’ll have the men pitch the bloody cannons overboard if that will make us go faster. I don’t care what you have to do, just keep us ahead of that monster there. I think I’ve bought us some time, and we’ll need every damned second of it.”
“Aye sir!”
As Morcant tacked the ship around, Maximillian surveyed the chaos of his fleet. “What are our losses, Mr. Morcant?”
“You saw those two ships go down, aye? On top of that, a few men here and there, so I’ve heard,” the pilot said, his eyes fixed straight ahead. “We’ll have to wait until this is over for a full tally. I did see Lieutenant Commander Tabitha have a run-in with a monster of a man. Had to have been seven feet tall and swung his cutlass around like a demon. Ol’ Bess saved his arse, but it was a close one.”
Maximillian cursed under his breath and summoned an ensign. “I need you to send every Wingull and Pelipper we have back to Slateport with word of what happened here. At least a few of them are bound to make it through this. Hell, send a bloody Zubat if we have one.”
“All of them, sir?” the young ensign said. “Should the situation worsen…”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you, boy. But I hardly see how the situation is going to get any worse!”
The boy nodded and rushed off to gather up any sailor with an avian pokemon and to send word to the rest of the fleet. Maximillian watched the men go about their business for a moment before descending to his own cabin below deck. He hastily scrawled out a missive to Commodore Drake to make ready to defend the harbor, and briefly outlining what Archibald had done. He blew on the ink to dry it, folded the paper into an envelope and wrapped it in oilcloth. He emerged back on deck and whistled for Lucius. He tied the letter to the Crobat’s leg and ran a hand through Lucius’s down. “I need you to get this to Commodore Drake as quickly as you can. Commodore Drake, do you understand?”
Lucius bobbed up and down in a full body nod and launched himself into the air, his wings beating furiously against the wind. In moments, he was just a tiny speck on the horizon.
Maximillian glanced behind him and saw the pirate fleet in disarray, and Kyogre restlessly circling. It seemed Archibald had maintained control over the monster, though his hold was tenuous. Maximillian allowed himself a small sigh of relief that at least that part of his plan had not gone straight to hell. Kyogre under Archibald’s control was undoubtedly dangerous, but a rampaging Kyogre with no way to reestablish control this close to his city was nothing short of apocalyptic. The disruption might prove to be just enough to get his men back to Slateport in time to mount a counteroffensive.
The problem now became how he was supposed to fight the god of the sea.
The governor general anxiously paced the deck as Caliburnus flew along the edge of the storm, his mind racing as he formulated and discarded plans. With Slateport forming on the horizon, he had only two plans that he hadn’t dismissed as impossible. The first was to find and awaken the guardian deity of the land, Groudon, and set it loose against Kyogre, get them to tire each other out and then take them both out while they were weakened. While he was willing to bet that the plan could work, he did not know if Groudon was even real, and even should it prove to be, he had no idea where it could be found. So he filed that under “implausible” and prayed that Kyogre was vulnerable to a continued barrage of cannon fire.
The Caliburnus was towed into its berth by a pod of domesticated Wailmer, allowing Maximillian to quickly disembark. Gaius was unloaded via pulley, and as soon as Maximillian was sure his partner was safely on dry land, he summoned his commanders. Tabitha limped down the Interceptor’s gangplank, his arm in a splint and a nasty gash across his face. At the governor general’s raised eyebrow, his lieutenant shrugged. “Archibald’s right hand man hits like a Machoke.”
“Speaking of Machoke, there’s a marine I owe a commendation. Remind me when this is all settled. I have other things on my mind at the moment.”
“I hope one of those things is a plan to get us out of this, sir.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
Commodore Lawrence and Commodore Drake shoved their way through the crowd and saluted. “Eroica and Valiant battle groups are ready to engage,” Drake said. His Salamance raised its neck and surveyed the approaching bank of clouds, a rumbling growl building in his throat.
Commodore Lawrence had Lucius on one shoulder and his Swellow on the other. “Governor general, how should we proceed?”
Tabitha glanced at Maximillian. “The governor general assures me he has a plan.”
“Then let’s bloody well hear it.”
“As I told Tabitha, it is more of a work in progress.” Maximillian grimaced. “We’re just going to fire everything we’ve got at it and hope that works.”
“That’s your plan?” Tabitha was incredulous.
Commodore Lawrence just smirked and nudged Drake. “Sounds like your kind of plan.”
The dragon tamer laughed. “You’re damn right it does. You leave the vanguard to the Eroica group. We’ve got the most cannons in the Hoennian fleet, and my men are packing some of the toughest pokemon too. If we can’t make a dent in this thing, then may Arceus have mercy on all of us.”
“Commodore, you can’t be serious!” Tabitha cried. “This is a suicide mission.”
“Maybe so, but then it’s a damn good way to die.” Drake grinned. “If I don’t make it back, build me a statue or something.” He saluted and strode off, barking orders to his marines. His Salamance lumbered behind him.
Lawrence scratched Lucius behind the ears and gave him back to Maximillian. “The town guards are prepared, and we’ve moved all the cannons we can to the port. That should hold it, but it wouldn’t hurt if you try to make another plan.”
For the next hour, a frantic nervous energy gripped the whole city as Slateport braced to do battle with a god. Once the news of Kyogre’s awakening had reached the city, the admiralty had organized an evacuation effort, though privately Maximillian felt that there would be no safe distance to escape the devastation Archibald hoped to bring. But if it kept panicking civilians out of the way, then he had no grounds to object.
He worked alongside the enlisted men to ensure that the casks of powder were kept dry underneath tarpaulins, and oversaw the mobilization of ships into the harbor. The sky continued to darken, and the sporadic lightning flashes were getting closer. The clatter of hooves made Maximillian glance up, and he scowled.
“I told you to stay away from all this. Why did you not evacuate?”
Courtney sat astride her Arcanine and led Calpurnia by her bridle. His niece shrugged. “My place is at your side.”
“Courtney, we are in all likelihood going to die. This was reckless and foolish and—”
“My place is here. I wish to help.”
Maximillian sighed and relented. At this point there was nothing he could do anyway.
Shortly after, every bell in the city began to toll. “Kyogre is coming!” a watchman screamed. “It’s here!”
Eroica and her battle group were stationed along the harbor’s mouth, and they fired off their first volley of cannons. The percussive booms staggered every few seconds as the marines hastily reloaded and fired again. A flock of blue dragons alighted from the ships as Commodore Drake led his elite dragon corps into battle. Pulses of white and indigo light shot from the Salamances’ maws as they glided along the surface of the sea. Kyogre breached and summoned brilliant forks of lightning. Several of the dragons were struck and plummeted screaming into the sea. Others were sucked beneath the waves as Kyogre fed the storm with its fury. Maximillian watched through a spyglass as Commodore Drake shouted a battle cry and dove straight at the beast, only to be struck down by a blast of intense cold. Man and dragon fell beneath the churning waves, and the governor general closed his lens.
The commodore died a good death, and if any of them survived the day, he would ensure that Drake was remembered as a hero deserved.
The cannons on shore roared as Kyogre broke through the Eroica group. Archie’s pirates streamed onto the decks of the Slateport ships, subduing the crews and claiming the prizes in the chaos Kyogre left in its wake. Maximillian laid a hand on Gaius’s side. “I fear this is where it ends for us, old friend.”
Courtney stared up at the dark clouds, the rain making her hair stick to her face. She turned to her Arcanine. “Yes, I think we could do it too.” She paused for a moment and nodded. “At the very least, it couldn’t hurt.” She turned to her uncle. “Do Gaius and Calpurnia know how to use Solar Beam?”
Maximillian nodded. “Yes, though I hardly see how that can be at all—”
Courtney’s Arcanine threw back his head and howled, a column of flame shooting from his mouth and ascending towards the turbulent heavens. The fireball exploded amidst the clouds, and for a moment, nothing happened. But then, to Maximillian’s amazement a small patch of clouds began to lighten and dissipate, revealing an unbroken circle of blue.
“Arceus have mercy,” Maximillian gasped, finally understanding. “Gaius, Calpurnia, prepare your Solar Beam!”
Tabitha, waiting just down the dock, realized at the same moment. “Bess, you too!”
A moment later, three blasts of white-gold light arced across the harbor and struck Kyogre. The leviathan screamed as it was driven back, and by then the marines saw just how they had been delivered. Any fire or grass types that had the ability to summon clear skies were immediately dispatched to do so, and soon small circles of light were breaking through the heavy cloud cover.
Tabitha ran to Maximillian’s side. “We just might win this!”
Maximillian nodded and then turned to the closest gunner crew. “What are you waiting for? Did I order you to stop firing? Send this thing back to the trench it crawled out from!”
Courtney’s trick had not decisively turned the battle in Slateport’s favor, but it had proved to the men that Kyogre could be hurt, and that their cause was not hopeless. Although Kyogre managed to close up any holes in the cloud cover, more kept appearing and the defenders had begun harnessing the sun’s power to fight back. The cannons continued their assault, and finally Kyogre turned on the clogged mouth of the harbor. It gathered speed and leapt over the scuttled ships there, retreating towards the open ocean. The men of Slateport gave a ragged cheer as the rain began to abate.
The day was theirs.
***
Most of Archie’s pirate navy was rounded up and captured, though Maximillian granted many of them clemency. There simply weren’t enough gallows in Slateport to hang them all, and far too many were just desperate and disaffected discharged naval men. He instead exiled them to the north, where they could find work as laborers in the farms around Verdanturf, Mauville and Lavaridge. Or they could starve to death, but either way, it was not his problem.
Archibald was not among those captured. He had apparently slipped away in the chaos after Kyogre’s retreat with his pilot.
The dust had settled, the commendations and medals had been awarded and Maximillian’s report of the incident had been submitted to admiralty headquarters. Night had fallen some hours ago, and the governor general stood on the balcony of his office, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet with a glass of brandy by candlelight.
The door creaked open, and Maximillian did not turn around. “Hastings, whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until morning.”
“I’m no butler, old boy.”
Maximillian turned slowly, one hand resting on his pistol. “Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand, Archibald.”
His old comrade spread his hands to show he was unarmed. “You didn’t have the stones to finish the job last time, but if you think you’re man enough, go ahead.”
Maximillian shook his head. “What do you want?”
Archibald walked over to the brandy decanter on Maximillian’s desk and poured himself a glass. “I’m saying goodbye.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving Hoenn. I haven’t gotten any further than that. But I’m going to start over.” He took a sip of brandy. “Thought you might like to know.”
“I’m glad you won’t be skulking around my waters.”
“I made a mistake.”
“By my count, you’ve made a far more than just one.”
Archibald sighed and opened a pouch on his belt. He slowly drew out the gold medallion with the blue jewel. Maximillian’s hand went back to his gun, but Archibald just put it down on Maximillian’s desk. “The orb broke. It doesn’t work anymore. Kyogre went back to sleep, as far as I can tell. This thing is harmless now.”
“Why give it to me?”
“I figure you can find a place for it. Stick in a museum, mount it on your mantle, I don’t care.” Archibald tossed back the remainder of his brandy and poured himself another. “It’s proof that I’m done with all that. I still think the admiralty needs to go, but I had my chance. There’ll be another like me someday.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“So change the system, Maxie. With the political capital you have now, you could be the next Admiral of the Fleet and make it so that the next time a couple of midshipmen like us come along, they really can rise together.” Archibald smiled. “That’s all I ever wanted, you know. It shouldn’t matter that your father was a blueblood and my mother was a *****. I was just as good as you, and every one of those admiralty bastards knew it. But because I didn’t have a family worth bragging about, they were never going to let me rise as high as I deserved.”
Maximillian allowed himself to smile back. “When you walked out that day, the navy lost a damn fine commodore.” He put his glass down and sighed. “When I promised to bring you up with me, I meant it.”
“I know. But trying to help me would have destroyed your career.” Archibald put his glass down. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll see myself out.”
“Archibald, wait. You nearly destroyed the region. I shouldn’t be letting you go.”
“You shouldn’t. But are you going to stop me?” Archibald turned and walked out.
Maximillian let him go. He hated himself for it, but if Archibald was serious about turning over a new leaf, then Maximillian was willing to give him a fair chance. And if he turned back to his old ways, Maximillian would bring the full force of the Hoennian navy to bear to hunt him down and bring him to justice. He threw back his brandy and stared out into the night, knowing that somewhere out there, a small boat was drifting away to shores unknown.
A/N: This was written for the 2016 Yuletide exchange for Phoenixsong
Maximillian glanced at the stately clock on his wall and grunted. It was a little late for the midday meal, but surely the kitchens could manage something. He rang the bell for his manservant. When the black-suited man appeared at the door of his study, the governor general instructed him to fetch him some light fare, and perhaps a haunch of meat for Titus. When Hastings had disappeared, Titus padded over to Maximillian’s side and was rewarded with a scratch behind the ears for his trouble. Maximillian rose to his feet and stepped out onto his balcony overlooking Slateport harbor. Wrinkling his nose against the pervasive reek of fish baking in the sun, he surveyed his domain. Merchant ships vied for position with Hoennian naval vessels. Innumerable fishing vessels glided between the docked behemoths as they made their way out to the open water beyond the harbor’s protective shoals. Under his administration, the bustling port city ran smoother than ever before, and he had lined both its coffers and his own pockets with its spoils.
With an absentminded gesture, he readjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose as he watched the large white sails of a merchant galleon fill with the sea air as it was guided out of the harbor and onto the open sea. Behind him, Hastings cleared his throat as he took a plate of sandwiches and fresh fruit from a platter and placed on a cleared corner of the governor general’s desk. He then set down a haunch of Miltank thigh for Titus, and the Mightyena set about gnawing it with relish. “The tea will be up in just a moment, sir.”
“Very good, Hastings.” Maximillian had just lifted the first of the sandwiches to his lips when his lieutenant commander burst into his office.
“Governor general, sir!” Tabitha said, snapping off a brusque salute. His broad face was flushed, and he was panting.
Maximillian put down the sandwich with a sigh and returned the salute. “For Arceus’s sake boy, catch your breath and then tell me what’s got you in such a state.” As far as Maximillian was concerned, the lad was worth keeping around because he accomplished everything he was set to quickly and efficiently, but he wished Tabitha was a tad less excitable.
After a moment of wheezing, Tabitha managed to compose himself. “Sir, a small fleet of ships flying unfamiliar colors is approaching from the east.”
“Tabitha, my boy, we are one of the busiest ports in the world. I must see half a hundred unfamiliar flags every day. Why bother me about these?”
“Sir, the fleet has sent demands.” Demands? That certainly was a break from protocol. “And they were signed by him.”
Maximillian bit back a curse. It was improper to use such language in front of one’s subordinates. The governor general hadn’t heard anything but vague rumors about him since he had been forced to retreat from his disastrous assault on Lilycove with his tail between his legs and most of his ships scuttled. Three years, he had bided his time, no doubt skulking around the outer islands of the archipelago and seizing unsuspecting merchants to swell his numbers again. Maximillian removed his glasses to massage his temples and took a seat at his desk. “All right, let’s have it then. What does Archibald want?”
Tabitha drew a stained piece of parchment from his strained waistcoat and placed it on the desk before Maximillian. The governor unfolded it and scoffed. “He has some nerve styling himself as Admiral Stern.” He crumpled the parchment and tossed it in the fireplace. “And if we don’t deliver his exorbitant sum in a timely manner?”
“He does not specify, but I would assume the usual threats, sir.”
Which meant an attempt at razing the port to the ground, seizing anything his band of ruffians and privateers could get their filthy hands on, and scuttling as many ships as they could. Maximillian scoffed. “Well, they are more than welcome to try. Tell me, Tabitha, what is Archibald’s principal mistake in this endeavor?”
Tabitha puffed himself up. “Why, that he fancies that he has the nerve to threaten Slateport while it is under your aegis!”
Maximillian chuckled. “While that is certainly true, I am speaking more of his tactical blunder. Archibald has always been a showman, and he could never resist a chance to grandstand, and in so doing he has robbed himself of the element of surprise. How many ships are there in this fleet of his?”
“We estimate somewhere between fifteen and twenty.”
Though he was loathe to admit it, it was a respectable total. It might even have had the governor general of a backwater like Rustboro or Petalburg quaking in his boots. But this was Slateport, and he was Maximillian Augustus Sargent. It took far more than a swaggering upstart like Archibald Stern and a ragtag fleet to unsteady him. “Tabitha, alert the guardsmen and instruct them to prepare the cannons, and send word that I want Interceptor and Caliburnus made ready to sail out to meet Stern with their battle groups.”
“But what if Stern has more ships lying in wait to ambush us when we commit our finest ships?”
“You seem to forget Valiant is in harbor with her group preparing for her southern patrol, and Eroica will be returning by this evening. I will send word to Commodores Drake and Lawrence to make ready for a surprise attack. You see, that was Archibald’s second fatal error. He brought twenty ships to bear on a man who has fifty.”
While Tabitha scrambled to deliver his orders, Maximillian left the governor’s offices and cut his way across the district to his estate, a sprawling manor that commanded some of the best views of the city. Titus trotted along at his heels, and the crowd in the street split before him. The governor general often eschewed hansom cabs and carriages, preferring to let the citizens of Slateport see him about. As such, he was known to everyone, and all gave him his due. When he arrived at the door, he instructed his manservant to fetch his military uniform.
He strolled through the drawing room and dining room of his home, with their glittering crystal chandeliers and gilded accents. “Courtney,” he called.
After a slight delay, he heard an answering “Yes?” from the solarium, and he found his ward lounging against the flank of her Arcanine, reading a novel in a pool of sunlight. Maximillian waited for her to glance up at him, and when she did, he slowly shook his head. “You’ll get dust on your dress. Please, use a stool.” The girl rolled her eyes and made no attempt to move. Maximillian sighed. “Courtney, there may be some unpleasantness around the harbor today. I will be instructing a cohort of the town guards to protect the manor, so please, do not try to interfere. Do you understand?”
His niece shrugged and went back to her book. Knowing that was the best he was going to get out of her, Maximillian turned on his heel and ascended the sweeping main staircase to his chambers. His butler had already laid out the governor general’s uniform, complete with his ochre coat edged with gold. His saber and pistol were in their carved oak box at the foot of the bed. After Maximillian had dressed and armed himself, he descended to the main courtyard and opened the door to his private stable. Titus sat just outside the door, his tail flicking back and forth. Gaius looked up from his feed trough and lowed, and Maximillian reached over and scratched the Camerupt behind his ears as he lifted the stall’s latch. “It seems we’re to have some excitement, old boy.” Gaius obediently plodded out of his stall and out into the afternoon sun. Maximillian put two fingers to his lips and whistled. A purple shape detached itself from the eaves and alighted on his shoulder, sharp claws digging into the leather padding placed there for just such a reason. Maximillian reached up rubbed a hand through the Crobat’s soft down. “Yes Lucius, you get to come too.”
A hoof tapped against the wooden door of the stall across the aisle. Maximillian turned and smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be with me today, Agrippina.” His Rapidash huffed out a breath, and the governor general took a handful of oats from a bucket just out of her reach and held his hand out to her. “I’ll be putting to sea today, but I will take you out for a long gallop once I’ve settled this rotten business, I swear it.”
Lucius scurried down his coat and searched his pockets for sweets until Maximillian brushed him off. The Crobat flitted over to roost on one of the rocky spars that jutted from Gaius’s back. With a nod, Maximillian closed up the stable and led his pokemon back to the admiralty offices. In the short time he had been gone, the wharves had burst into activity. Tabitha and other senior officers barked orders as sailors made their ships ready to sail out to meet Archibald’s ragtag fleet.
When Tabitha saw him, he hastened over. “Sir, ought we load Gaius onto Caliburnus now?”
“Yes, let’s.”
Gaius allowed himself to be led into a specially designed harness that would inflate with buoyant gasses should he be pitched into the sea in naval combat. While the floats would not last indefinitely, they would provide enough time for a rescue party to secure him to another ship and raise him aboard. The winch and pulley lifted the Camerupt into the air and set him down on the deck of Maximillian’s flagship. The fire type wavered back and forth for a moment as it found its footing on the deck before turning to the feed bale placed near the drop site for just such a purpose.
Maximillian followed with Titus and Lucius up the gangplank, nodding in greeting to the men under his command. His pilot was already at the wheel, consulting with his Castform. The man, a Mr. Morcant, saluted when he saw the governor general. “Sir! Whisk here is saying that we ought to have clear skies and a steady wind. We’re ready to sail as soon as you give the order.”
“Very good, Mr. Morcant,” Maximillian said. He turned and watched several sailors and a group of Machoke position the cannons. A cabin boy sprinted across the deck with his Wartortle, furiously mopping the boards as he did so. To starboard, Maximillian saw Bess, Tabitha’s own Camerupt, being lifted into position on Interceptor. Though he had recommended many suitably impressive names for the beast, Tabitha had insisted on calling her Bess, of all things. Well, Maximillian supposed, you could take the boy out of the provinces, but you can’t take the provincial out of the boy.
By midafternoon, the ships were ready to sail, and Maximillian stood at the prow of Caliburnus as they exited the harbor in orderly formation. People lined the breakwaters and cheered as the ships glided past, and the cannons stationed along the shore thundered out a salute. With his hands clasped behind his back and his feet spread shoulder length apart, coat flapping in the sea breeze, Maximillian knew he cut an impressive figure just as the governor general ought. He moved one hand to rest on Titus’s head, and the Mightyena bared his teeth in a lupine grin.
Like Morcant had predicted, the seas were calm and the wind favorable. The two fleets cut across the waves, and soon a dark mass began to form on the eastern horizon. “Ships ho!” the lookout shouted.
“Raise the colors!” Maximillian called, and soon the flag of Slateport was flying over every ship in the fleet. “Make ready for battle! Prepare to engage! Show these bastards what happens when pirates threaten Slateport!”
His men cheered as the indistinct smudge on the far horizon resolved itself into the pirate fleet. One of Maximillian’s midshipmen approached him at the prow and saluted. “Sir, we’ll be on them shortly. How should I direct Mr. Morcant?”
“Have him continue on this course,” Maximillian replied.
“But governor general, sir, you don’t intend to ram them? Surely we ought to prepare a broadside or—”
Maximillian cut the young man off with a flick of his wrist. “Have the men prepare the cannons to fire, but hold the current course. Mr. Morcant will know what to do.” He turned to look at the midshipman. “And in the future, it would behoove you not to question the orders of your superiors.”
“Y-yes, governor general, sir!” The midshipman ran off to deliver his orders. Maximillian saw him speak to Mr. Morcant, and the pilot shrugged. He had served under Maximillian long enough to know what the governor general was playing at. Even now, after all his years in the navy, he still didn’t approve of the maneuver, but he couldn’t deny how effective it had proved to be.
Maximillian waved over his signalman and instructed him to alert Tabitha on the Interceptor. The man quickly relayed the order in semaphore, and Maximillian saw his lieutenant commander take his place beside Bess on the prow. “Any moment now, Gaius,” Maximillian murmured. He watched the distance between the two fleets close, furiously working through the necessary calculations in his head. “All right. Fire!”
Gaius bellowed and expelled a burst of molten stone from the vents on his back. The superheated rock arced through the air and plummeted through the sails of one of the lead ships in Archibald’s fleet. The pirates began swarming about the rigging to smother the flames before it could spread. Bess and Gaius continued their eruptions to sow chaos among Archibald’s ranks as the first and second battle groups fanned out on the flanks, presenting their broadsides.
Maximillian took a speaking trumpet from a waiting ensign and cleared his throat. “We are here to accept your unconditional surrender.”
A man in a blue kerchief with a Chatot on his shoulder shoved his way to the front of his ship. “Stick it up your arse, governor general!”
“Up your arse!” the Chatot echoed.
“I was hoping you would say that,” Maximillian said. He drew his saber. “Men, prepare to engage! Broadsides, fire!” The roar of the cannons filled the air as the projectiles ripped through the front ranks of the pirate fleet. “Make ready to draw up and board!” He reached down and scratched Titus’s ear. “Stay on me, old boy.”
Morcant guided Caliburnus alongside Archibald’s flagship. Maximillian happened to glance down and saw that the ship had been named the Salty Hag, painted in crude rough brushstrokes. He tried not to roll his eyes. A handful of naval men and their fighting types swung across to the pirate ships from ropes in the rigging while their comrades fixed wooden planks to the deck to make the crossing on foot. The sea frothed as the pirates’ aquatic pokemon seethed beneath the surface. Even as his cannons were tearing through the hulls of Archibald’s ships, he had no doubt that packs of Archibald’s Sharpedo were attempting to do the same thing beneath the waves.
Once the first of the boards were secured, he raised his saber above his head. “Men of Slateport, rally on me! For victory!”
“For victory!” his men roared back.
With a wordless cry, Maximillian and Titus charged across the board and onto the deck of the Salty Hag. When he engaged the first of the pirates, he feinted high, and when the swashbuckler took the bait, he went low and cut the man’s hamstrings, sending him tumbling to the deck. Titus snarled as he scratched and bit at a Linoone, and Lucius spiraled overhead battering Golbat and Pelipper. There was a deep bellow as a Machoke barreled across the deck directly at him. Maximillian raised his sword, but knew that at this range the fighting type had him. There was the sharp crack of a pistol and the beast dropped. Maximillian glanced around and saw the young midshipman he had reprimanded earlier briskly reloading his gun. Their eyes met, and Maximillian gave him a nod.
He whistled to his pokemon, and they began to fight their way across the deck to where he was sure Archibald would be. He fought his way to the stern and climbed the flight of stairs to the helm. Archibald lounged against the railing, feigning disinterest in the chaos on the deck below. His Mightyena lay at his feet. At the wheel stood the insufferable harlot he insisted was the best pilot on the Hoennian seas. An odd blue simian unlike any pokemon Maximillian had seen chittered on her shoulder.
Archibald smiled when he heard the thud of Maximillian’s boots. “Well hullo there, old boy. I was wondering when you were going to get here. Do you like my ship? I named it for my dear old mother, rest her soul.”
“Of course you did.”
“Still going to ask me for my unconditional surrender, old boy?”
“Shove it up your arse, Archibald,” Maximillian growled through clenched teeth.
“Arse!” Archibald’s Chatot squawked.
Maximillian ignored it. “I gave you a chance to do this the easy way, and I’m rather gratified you didn’t take it.” He levelled his saber. “It’s only right I put an end to you myself.”
Archibald drew his cutlass. “I’ve always loved it when you get fired up like this, Maxie. I suppose we can have a dance for old time’s sake. Shelly, my dear, I’m going to ask you to stay out of this one.”
The woman shrugged. “Whatever you say, cap’n.”
Archibald grinned that mad grin of his. “All right then, Sammy! Let’s get him!” He and his Mightyena charged. Black Sam tackled Titus to the deck and the two Mightyena wrestled and snarled, neither one able to gain the upper hand. Maximillian parried Archibald’s first swing, but when he moved to counterattack, Archibald threw up a block. Lucius screamed down from the rigging, only to be intercepted by Archie’s Chatot. The pirate glanced up. “Watch the wings on that one, Calico!” The Chatot trilled something in reply, battering away at Lucius with wings held as rigid as steel swords.
Archibald and Maximillian traded blows, scoring a small touch here, a shallow cut there, but neither man flagged. They matched blow for blow, parry for parry, step for step. They were, as always, too evenly matched.
In their youth, Maximillian Sargent and Archibald Stern had been comrades and even friends, after a fashion. Though he had purchased his commission as a naval officer and Archibald had been just an enlisted man who had risen rapidly through the ranks by good fortune and exceptional maritime skills. They had been the Hoenn navy’s rising stars, with the admiralty pinning progressively higher hopes on them each time they returned to shore to receive honors.
They had become captains within the same battle group, and Archibald’s hot-blooded temper had proved the ideal foil for Maximillian’s cold calculation. Under Rear-Admiral Stone they had put down the Bone Hand privateers in the outer islands and later had been instrumental in the capture of the Dread Captain Redbeard. Maximillian still counted the day that Redbeard hanged as the happiest of his life, and one of his proudest accomplishments.
In the celebration in Port Lilycove, Maximillian and Titus had gone to seek some peace and quiet on the hill overlooking the city. Archibald had found them there, with Black Sam padding on his heels. He held up a bottle of rum with a triumphant grin and popped the cork off it with a flourish. After taking a long pull, he handed the bottle to Maximillian. “A present from Mum. She sends her regards.” Maximillian had been hesitant to drink grog from a *****house, but after some good-natured cajoling he relented. Archibald’s eyes had shone as they looked out over the fleet assembled in the harbor. “I hear they’re going to honor us for this. With the prize money alone, I can afford to buy Mum a bar, a fancy one, with columns and a portico and everything. I’m thinking we call it the Gilded Lily.”
“And would you still run a *****house on the upper floors?”
Archibald scoffed. “No, when it’s all respectable-like, you got to call it a brothel.” He laughed again. “What’ll you do with your cut of the prize?”
“Buy a villa, I don’t doubt. Father’s manor is all well and good, but Fallabor is a backwater. I’m thinking of setting myself up in Slateport, finding a wife—”
“And lead the boring life of an admiralty man, yes, how predictable.”
“The admiralty admires respectability.” He had glanced over at Archibald. “Sooner or later word will get out that your pilot is a woman. She can’t keep playing at Polly Oliver forever. The admiralty won’t like that.”
“The admiralty can shove it up their arse.”
Archibald had echoed the same sentiment three days later when they had been called to high command and summarily promoted. Archibald had been made a commodore, and Maximillian had been elevated straight to rear-admiral to replace the vacancy Stone had left in his step up to vice-admiral. “So he gets to be rear-admiral?” Archibald had screamed. “You all know I was the one who took Redbeard’s surrender! I captured more of the Bone Hands than anyone in the damned fleet! But because his blood’s bluer than mine you jump him up two ranks? Because I’m the filthy son of a dockworker and *****, I should count my lucky stars that you let me rise this high? You can shove that right up your arse!”
“Archibald, settle down,” Maximillian had hissed through clenched teeth. “You know I love you like a brother, and I will do everything I can to make this right. We ought to rise together.”
Archibald had whirled on him, his face red with naked fury. “I’m just supposed to sit on my hands while I wait for you to drag me along on your coattails, Maxie? I’m sure I will make rear-admiral someday, but only because you went and got yourself promoted to vice!” He turned on his heel and stalked from the hall. “To hell with all of you. I’ll find another way to rule the sea, and then I’ll tear your precious admiralty down.”
When the door slammed behind Archibald, Admiral Norton had made a mark on his ledger, glanced over the top of his spectacles. “Well,” he had said. “It seems we are in need of a new commodore. Rear-Admiral Sargent, do you have any recommendations?”
As the years had passed, Maximillian had heard of Archibald’s movements second and third-hand. After spending some time languishing in obscurity in the southern seas, he had made several daring bids for large prizes, succeeding about as often as he failed. But for the past three years, Archibald’s reported movements had become increasingly more erratic. There were reports of him attacking a ship chartered by monks returning from Johto with a cargo of textiles and taking nothing. Another unsubstantiated report claimed that his ship had passed through the straits around Lilycove under cover of darkness and sailing up Pyre Bay, but when dawn came, there was no sign of him. There seemed to be no logic to his movements, and when Maximillian allowed himself to think about his old friend, he had begun to wonder if Archibald had not gone completely insane.
Insane or not, Archibald had kept his sword work in top form. Maximillian was well known to be one of the finest fencers in Slateport, despite getting a little long in the tooth. But Archibald was pushing him harder than any opponent in recent years. Still, for Archibald’s savage intensity, he lacked form and finesse, and that made him predictable. Maximillian managed to slip past his guard and send Archibald’s cutlass clattering to the deck. The sound caught Black Sam unawares, and Titus managed to pin the other Mightyena and take Sam’s neck in his jaws. A slight shake of Titus’s head warned Black Sam what would happen if he continued to struggle. Lucius shrieked and dug his claws into Calico, driving the Chatot to the deck and pinning him.
Maximillian held his saber against Archibald’s neck. “Archie, for what it’s worth… I am dreadfully sorry it turned out like this.”
As he drew back for the final blow, a torrent of water struck his face and knocked him off balance, coughing and spluttering all the while. As he tried to regain his composure, he heard the harlot laugh and say, “Good job, Toby.”
When Maximillian wiped the water from his eyes, he saw the blue simian looking at him with a self-satisfied smirk. Archibald had regained his cutlass, but it hung lazily in his hand. “Thank you, Miss Shelly.”
“You said this was between the two of us!”
Archibald shrugged. “I’m a pirate, old boy. If you didn’t think I would lie and cheat, you’re dumber than you look.” He took a blue medallion with a large blue gem off from around his neck. “Now Maxie, my lad, for the friendship we once shared, I’m going to let you see something truly incredible.” He held the medallion aloft, and the blue gemstone glowed in the late afternoon light.
Shelley’s eyes went wide. “Cap’n, wait! I don’t think that’s the best—”
Lightning split the blue sky, followed by a sharp crack of thunder. Archibald howled with laughter. “Shelly, my dear, the time for waiting is over!” Maximillian could only watch in mute amazement as dark clouds gathered above the ships. Lightning flashed, throwing the battle into sharp relief every few seconds. His senior officers tried to shout orders, but the sound was lost in the thunderclaps. A heavy rain lashed at the sailor’s faces as the ocean’s surface roiled. Archibald grabbed Maximillian by the collar and dragged him to the stern railing and pointed at the waves. “Watch there, old boy!”
“Archibald, what are you doing?”
“I told you all those years ago! I’m going to rule the seas and destroy the admiralty!” He laughed again. “How fitting it is you offered yourself up as the first Mareep to be sacrificed to my leviathan!” A red light glowed in the depth, growing brighter with each frenzied pulse of Maximillian’s heart. Something massive was coming to the surface.
“Archibald, you didn’t…”
“I woke the bloody giant is what I did!” Archibald roared.
At that moment, the dark shape burst from beneath the waves, soaring high above the warring ships and crashing down on the far side. As it passed overhead, it was illuminated from behind by a flash of lightning, and Maximillian knew, for the first time in his life, what true abject terror felt like.
“You woke Kyogre?” he demanded. “By Arceus, Archibald, that monster is supposed to be a myth!”
Archibald held his medallion aloft, and Maximillian saw that it was not the sun that had made it glint so. The gemstone glowed with an internal light. Kyogre rounded on the fleet and raised its bulk out of the water. A great column of water shot from its maw, piercing straight through the hulls of two of Maximillian’s ships. The ships groaned and listed dangerously before they began to sink beneath the waves. The crews screamed as they tried to escape the pull of the ocean, clambering over each other to get into lifeboats. Most of them did not make it even that far.
Maximillian struggled to find his words. “Why are you doing this?”
“The admiralty is corrupt. The government is corrupt. People like me, like my crew, we work our whole lives just to make ends meet so that people like you can live in your gold palaces. The system is broken, Maximillian, and it’s up to me to fix it. I’ll use Kyogre’s power to sweep across the whole damn region and then, when the waters recede I’ll build it even better! People will rise on their merits, not on their family name!”
Maximillian gestured wildly at Kyogre. “That thing is a physical god! Do you truly believe you can control that kind of power?”
“Control it? I don’t need to control it! All I have to do is make sure I’ve pointed it in the right direction.”
“Think of all the innocent lives that will be lost!”
“If you want to make wine you have to crush a few grapes, old boy.” Archibald whirled on Shelly. “Set course for Slateport.” Then he turned back to Maximillian. “Listen. You don’t need to get involved in this. Take your men and your ships and sail away. Take the long way ‘round to Fallabor. I doubt the waters will reach that far. Ride out the storm and help me build the new Hoenn. I need a man like you.” Archibald held out his right hand. “Join me, and we can rule together.”
Maximillian held his gaze, sheathed his saber and smiled. Archibald smiled back, and that was when Maximillian shot him.
Archibald held a hand to the bleeding wound in his chest. “You bastard! We were supposed to rise together! You were my best friend!”
Maximillian tossed aside the now-useless pistol and glared down at him. “The Archibald I knew is dead.” He whistled to his pokemon and sprinted down the stairs to the deck. “Men of Slateport!” he shouted. “Fall back! Retreat! Hoist all sails and return to port!”
Marines hastily broke off engagements and streamed across the boards back to their own ships. Cannons thundered out one last exchange as helmsmen hurried to comply with the governor general’s orders. When Maximillian had fought his way back to Caliburnus, he first checked to ensure that Gaius was safe before shoving his way to the helm. “Mr. Morcant, status report!”
The pilot shook his head. “Sir, I got a bad feeling about this. As soon as that monster showed up the weather went straight to hell. Whisk can’t keep up with it.”
Maximillian nodded. “Once again, Mr. Morcant, you state the obvious. I want us to make for Slateport at all speed. I’ll have the men pitch the bloody cannons overboard if that will make us go faster. I don’t care what you have to do, just keep us ahead of that monster there. I think I’ve bought us some time, and we’ll need every damned second of it.”
“Aye sir!”
As Morcant tacked the ship around, Maximillian surveyed the chaos of his fleet. “What are our losses, Mr. Morcant?”
“You saw those two ships go down, aye? On top of that, a few men here and there, so I’ve heard,” the pilot said, his eyes fixed straight ahead. “We’ll have to wait until this is over for a full tally. I did see Lieutenant Commander Tabitha have a run-in with a monster of a man. Had to have been seven feet tall and swung his cutlass around like a demon. Ol’ Bess saved his arse, but it was a close one.”
Maximillian cursed under his breath and summoned an ensign. “I need you to send every Wingull and Pelipper we have back to Slateport with word of what happened here. At least a few of them are bound to make it through this. Hell, send a bloody Zubat if we have one.”
“All of them, sir?” the young ensign said. “Should the situation worsen…”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you, boy. But I hardly see how the situation is going to get any worse!”
The boy nodded and rushed off to gather up any sailor with an avian pokemon and to send word to the rest of the fleet. Maximillian watched the men go about their business for a moment before descending to his own cabin below deck. He hastily scrawled out a missive to Commodore Drake to make ready to defend the harbor, and briefly outlining what Archibald had done. He blew on the ink to dry it, folded the paper into an envelope and wrapped it in oilcloth. He emerged back on deck and whistled for Lucius. He tied the letter to the Crobat’s leg and ran a hand through Lucius’s down. “I need you to get this to Commodore Drake as quickly as you can. Commodore Drake, do you understand?”
Lucius bobbed up and down in a full body nod and launched himself into the air, his wings beating furiously against the wind. In moments, he was just a tiny speck on the horizon.
Maximillian glanced behind him and saw the pirate fleet in disarray, and Kyogre restlessly circling. It seemed Archibald had maintained control over the monster, though his hold was tenuous. Maximillian allowed himself a small sigh of relief that at least that part of his plan had not gone straight to hell. Kyogre under Archibald’s control was undoubtedly dangerous, but a rampaging Kyogre with no way to reestablish control this close to his city was nothing short of apocalyptic. The disruption might prove to be just enough to get his men back to Slateport in time to mount a counteroffensive.
The problem now became how he was supposed to fight the god of the sea.
The governor general anxiously paced the deck as Caliburnus flew along the edge of the storm, his mind racing as he formulated and discarded plans. With Slateport forming on the horizon, he had only two plans that he hadn’t dismissed as impossible. The first was to find and awaken the guardian deity of the land, Groudon, and set it loose against Kyogre, get them to tire each other out and then take them both out while they were weakened. While he was willing to bet that the plan could work, he did not know if Groudon was even real, and even should it prove to be, he had no idea where it could be found. So he filed that under “implausible” and prayed that Kyogre was vulnerable to a continued barrage of cannon fire.
The Caliburnus was towed into its berth by a pod of domesticated Wailmer, allowing Maximillian to quickly disembark. Gaius was unloaded via pulley, and as soon as Maximillian was sure his partner was safely on dry land, he summoned his commanders. Tabitha limped down the Interceptor’s gangplank, his arm in a splint and a nasty gash across his face. At the governor general’s raised eyebrow, his lieutenant shrugged. “Archibald’s right hand man hits like a Machoke.”
“Speaking of Machoke, there’s a marine I owe a commendation. Remind me when this is all settled. I have other things on my mind at the moment.”
“I hope one of those things is a plan to get us out of this, sir.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
Commodore Lawrence and Commodore Drake shoved their way through the crowd and saluted. “Eroica and Valiant battle groups are ready to engage,” Drake said. His Salamance raised its neck and surveyed the approaching bank of clouds, a rumbling growl building in his throat.
Commodore Lawrence had Lucius on one shoulder and his Swellow on the other. “Governor general, how should we proceed?”
Tabitha glanced at Maximillian. “The governor general assures me he has a plan.”
“Then let’s bloody well hear it.”
“As I told Tabitha, it is more of a work in progress.” Maximillian grimaced. “We’re just going to fire everything we’ve got at it and hope that works.”
“That’s your plan?” Tabitha was incredulous.
Commodore Lawrence just smirked and nudged Drake. “Sounds like your kind of plan.”
The dragon tamer laughed. “You’re damn right it does. You leave the vanguard to the Eroica group. We’ve got the most cannons in the Hoennian fleet, and my men are packing some of the toughest pokemon too. If we can’t make a dent in this thing, then may Arceus have mercy on all of us.”
“Commodore, you can’t be serious!” Tabitha cried. “This is a suicide mission.”
“Maybe so, but then it’s a damn good way to die.” Drake grinned. “If I don’t make it back, build me a statue or something.” He saluted and strode off, barking orders to his marines. His Salamance lumbered behind him.
Lawrence scratched Lucius behind the ears and gave him back to Maximillian. “The town guards are prepared, and we’ve moved all the cannons we can to the port. That should hold it, but it wouldn’t hurt if you try to make another plan.”
For the next hour, a frantic nervous energy gripped the whole city as Slateport braced to do battle with a god. Once the news of Kyogre’s awakening had reached the city, the admiralty had organized an evacuation effort, though privately Maximillian felt that there would be no safe distance to escape the devastation Archibald hoped to bring. But if it kept panicking civilians out of the way, then he had no grounds to object.
He worked alongside the enlisted men to ensure that the casks of powder were kept dry underneath tarpaulins, and oversaw the mobilization of ships into the harbor. The sky continued to darken, and the sporadic lightning flashes were getting closer. The clatter of hooves made Maximillian glance up, and he scowled.
“I told you to stay away from all this. Why did you not evacuate?”
Courtney sat astride her Arcanine and led Calpurnia by her bridle. His niece shrugged. “My place is at your side.”
“Courtney, we are in all likelihood going to die. This was reckless and foolish and—”
“My place is here. I wish to help.”
Maximillian sighed and relented. At this point there was nothing he could do anyway.
Shortly after, every bell in the city began to toll. “Kyogre is coming!” a watchman screamed. “It’s here!”
Eroica and her battle group were stationed along the harbor’s mouth, and they fired off their first volley of cannons. The percussive booms staggered every few seconds as the marines hastily reloaded and fired again. A flock of blue dragons alighted from the ships as Commodore Drake led his elite dragon corps into battle. Pulses of white and indigo light shot from the Salamances’ maws as they glided along the surface of the sea. Kyogre breached and summoned brilliant forks of lightning. Several of the dragons were struck and plummeted screaming into the sea. Others were sucked beneath the waves as Kyogre fed the storm with its fury. Maximillian watched through a spyglass as Commodore Drake shouted a battle cry and dove straight at the beast, only to be struck down by a blast of intense cold. Man and dragon fell beneath the churning waves, and the governor general closed his lens.
The commodore died a good death, and if any of them survived the day, he would ensure that Drake was remembered as a hero deserved.
The cannons on shore roared as Kyogre broke through the Eroica group. Archie’s pirates streamed onto the decks of the Slateport ships, subduing the crews and claiming the prizes in the chaos Kyogre left in its wake. Maximillian laid a hand on Gaius’s side. “I fear this is where it ends for us, old friend.”
Courtney stared up at the dark clouds, the rain making her hair stick to her face. She turned to her Arcanine. “Yes, I think we could do it too.” She paused for a moment and nodded. “At the very least, it couldn’t hurt.” She turned to her uncle. “Do Gaius and Calpurnia know how to use Solar Beam?”
Maximillian nodded. “Yes, though I hardly see how that can be at all—”
Courtney’s Arcanine threw back his head and howled, a column of flame shooting from his mouth and ascending towards the turbulent heavens. The fireball exploded amidst the clouds, and for a moment, nothing happened. But then, to Maximillian’s amazement a small patch of clouds began to lighten and dissipate, revealing an unbroken circle of blue.
“Arceus have mercy,” Maximillian gasped, finally understanding. “Gaius, Calpurnia, prepare your Solar Beam!”
Tabitha, waiting just down the dock, realized at the same moment. “Bess, you too!”
A moment later, three blasts of white-gold light arced across the harbor and struck Kyogre. The leviathan screamed as it was driven back, and by then the marines saw just how they had been delivered. Any fire or grass types that had the ability to summon clear skies were immediately dispatched to do so, and soon small circles of light were breaking through the heavy cloud cover.
Tabitha ran to Maximillian’s side. “We just might win this!”
Maximillian nodded and then turned to the closest gunner crew. “What are you waiting for? Did I order you to stop firing? Send this thing back to the trench it crawled out from!”
Courtney’s trick had not decisively turned the battle in Slateport’s favor, but it had proved to the men that Kyogre could be hurt, and that their cause was not hopeless. Although Kyogre managed to close up any holes in the cloud cover, more kept appearing and the defenders had begun harnessing the sun’s power to fight back. The cannons continued their assault, and finally Kyogre turned on the clogged mouth of the harbor. It gathered speed and leapt over the scuttled ships there, retreating towards the open ocean. The men of Slateport gave a ragged cheer as the rain began to abate.
The day was theirs.
***
Most of Archie’s pirate navy was rounded up and captured, though Maximillian granted many of them clemency. There simply weren’t enough gallows in Slateport to hang them all, and far too many were just desperate and disaffected discharged naval men. He instead exiled them to the north, where they could find work as laborers in the farms around Verdanturf, Mauville and Lavaridge. Or they could starve to death, but either way, it was not his problem.
Archibald was not among those captured. He had apparently slipped away in the chaos after Kyogre’s retreat with his pilot.
The dust had settled, the commendations and medals had been awarded and Maximillian’s report of the incident had been submitted to admiralty headquarters. Night had fallen some hours ago, and the governor general stood on the balcony of his office, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet with a glass of brandy by candlelight.
The door creaked open, and Maximillian did not turn around. “Hastings, whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until morning.”
“I’m no butler, old boy.”
Maximillian turned slowly, one hand resting on his pistol. “Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand, Archibald.”
His old comrade spread his hands to show he was unarmed. “You didn’t have the stones to finish the job last time, but if you think you’re man enough, go ahead.”
Maximillian shook his head. “What do you want?”
Archibald walked over to the brandy decanter on Maximillian’s desk and poured himself a glass. “I’m saying goodbye.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving Hoenn. I haven’t gotten any further than that. But I’m going to start over.” He took a sip of brandy. “Thought you might like to know.”
“I’m glad you won’t be skulking around my waters.”
“I made a mistake.”
“By my count, you’ve made a far more than just one.”
Archibald sighed and opened a pouch on his belt. He slowly drew out the gold medallion with the blue jewel. Maximillian’s hand went back to his gun, but Archibald just put it down on Maximillian’s desk. “The orb broke. It doesn’t work anymore. Kyogre went back to sleep, as far as I can tell. This thing is harmless now.”
“Why give it to me?”
“I figure you can find a place for it. Stick in a museum, mount it on your mantle, I don’t care.” Archibald tossed back the remainder of his brandy and poured himself another. “It’s proof that I’m done with all that. I still think the admiralty needs to go, but I had my chance. There’ll be another like me someday.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“So change the system, Maxie. With the political capital you have now, you could be the next Admiral of the Fleet and make it so that the next time a couple of midshipmen like us come along, they really can rise together.” Archibald smiled. “That’s all I ever wanted, you know. It shouldn’t matter that your father was a blueblood and my mother was a *****. I was just as good as you, and every one of those admiralty bastards knew it. But because I didn’t have a family worth bragging about, they were never going to let me rise as high as I deserved.”
Maximillian allowed himself to smile back. “When you walked out that day, the navy lost a damn fine commodore.” He put his glass down and sighed. “When I promised to bring you up with me, I meant it.”
“I know. But trying to help me would have destroyed your career.” Archibald put his glass down. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll see myself out.”
“Archibald, wait. You nearly destroyed the region. I shouldn’t be letting you go.”
“You shouldn’t. But are you going to stop me?” Archibald turned and walked out.
Maximillian let him go. He hated himself for it, but if Archibald was serious about turning over a new leaf, then Maximillian was willing to give him a fair chance. And if he turned back to his old ways, Maximillian would bring the full force of the Hoennian navy to bear to hunt him down and bring him to justice. He threw back his brandy and stared out into the night, knowing that somewhere out there, a small boat was drifting away to shores unknown.
A/N: This was written for the 2016 Yuletide exchange for Phoenixsong
