Unfortunately for Rhys, he would see a very, very familiar figure grow out from the side of the road. At his feet was a bird, with a green leek behind his tail. The one-eyed terrorist had a smile on his face, and he pulled something out of his ears. “Little stronger than I thought– but ain’t a problem w’me. Right, Sir?”

He sounded off with a quack and a raise of his leek. A chuckle escaped his lips, and he slowly approached the burning mess of a vehicle. Sure enough, he didn’t see movement from the front half. Yet again, it’d be strange to see that at all. Less nitroglycerin next time.

He thought there’d be a fight. Wanted it. Oh well. He’d settle for the freedom of wild, innocent Pokemon. Unfortunately, the device certainly neutralized several enemy Pokemon combatants. Indoctrinated. A terrible fate. That’s why he kicked away a metal sheet, the hood, and sent it across the road.

“That’s what ye get!” He sent a hubcap into the grass. “Murderous traitors, the lot of ye! Makin’ me do this. Evil. Vile. Repulsive.”

Eventually, he reached the trunk. Cracked open, like a walnut. And he pulled back the shell to reveal the succulent flesh. Several trays of Poke balls, all kept safe in their cases. He took the first Poke ball, labeled ‘Hydrapple’ and examined it in the fires of the wreckage.

Then, he pocketed it. He’d need to find the rangers and make an ‘Anonymous Donation’ to be returned to its native land. It could be an invasive species, and that’d make it worse. He grabbed the one labeled 'Orthworm' and took that one too. Who knew when the authorities would arive. “Sir, check the wreckage. If there were survivors-- fix it.”

“Fetch’d!” He saluted, then marched to his own rhythm. To the side of the car, with a blown out window. Thanks to his small stature, he could easily fit inside the vehicle. Careful to not step on glass, he’d find Rhys. Alive.

---

Rhys Collins

“Far, far–”

They disappeared. Huh?

“Ya find somethin’?” Tavish, now with half the Poke Balls in his possession, looked over to the side. And then, he was distracted by the sound and sight of an Alakazam getting a powerful ‘upgrade’. When he recognized the figure responsible, as well as their intention, a smile cracked on his lips.

“Glad ye lived,” he called out. “Thought I’d be bored.”

Perhaps not the time, and Sir didn’t want his trainer to perish right as the fight began. That’s why he ran outside of the car and back to the chemist. He jumped up high and barreled his entire body straight into his chest. They fell over into a pile, and Tavish quickly pulled himself behind cover.

In the nick of time. Psychic energy barraged the entire landscape. Dirt flew up, leaves flung from their branches, and the world went to hell. Metal groaned underneath the attack, and their cover was compromised rather fast.

“Move, move!” Sir flapped out of the way, and Tavish crawled back into the open right as the vehicle groaned. The left side kissed the ground and then rocked further. He looked at the trunk, at all the Poke Balls flung over the place. Some rolled near the fire, and he sucked his breath in.

“Distract ‘em, I’ll get the balls. Then, we attack,” he said to Sir. His leek smacked the ground, and the split up.

“Farfetch’d!” His wings flapped once, twice, and he flew much faster than previously. The Brave Bird aimed straight for the Alakazam, leek outstretched as a green, leafy lance.

Meanwhile, Tavish clambered throught the dirt and soot to get every lat Poke ball. His finger hair singed against the wayward flames, but he ignored the heat. “Don’t worry, ye quack! I’ll keep ‘em nice and safe– in their home region!”

---

Rhys Collins

A broken clock was right twice a day, and an indiscriminate attack could manage to hit its intended target every now and then. Of course, Sir was moments away from dealing a devastating blow. Just as the leek rose to Knock Off the Alakazam, one of its pulses encapsulated the bird. His wings spasmed, and his eyes almost popped out from the sockets. 

At least he wasn't a sitting duck, and pulled himself out of the way of the second lethal pulse with a feather's length to spare.

Tavish, meanwhile, grit his teeth at the sight of such awful destruction. Plants destroyed, and habitats were decimated. All because someone was pissy that he couldn’t be a psychopath without any repercussions. As he deposited the last Poke ball into his pocket, he withdrew a combat knife from his belt.

“Ya want death, ye fool?! Comin’ right over,” he yelled. As the Alakazam focused on Sir, he rushed through the dirt and debris. The clock hadn’t reached the second correct time, for he dodged every single pulse that tried to melt his own mind.

It didn’t take long for him to plant one foot into the ground and launch himself directly at the doctor, face full of rage, fury, and disgust. “Let’s see yer reinforcements save yer ass now!”

Despite everything, Sir, managed to realign himself with reality. Once more, the Leek came up and slammed down onto the Alakazam’s massive forehead, a Knock Off to signify his thoughts on the matter at hand. “Sir-fetch’d!”

“Cease your malicious intentions!”

---

Rhys Collins

Tavish struck true, and the knife cut his foe deep into his skin. Blood flowed like a river, and he attempted to wrestle Rhys down to the ground. It worked, for the most part. Up until the man attempted to gouge his only good eye left– that bought him time. “Grhaaa, Ya bloody devil!”

Pressure pressed precariously onto his precious piece of flesh. He had to drop the knife and use both of his good hands to fight off the one arm. That left the other to dig into his bad eye, which caused a lot more residual pain. His scream of agony lit up the forest brighter than the fires ever could.

Until Sir stepped in. After he sent the Alakazam back to the ground, the world spun. But it was merely a setback, an obstacle to overcome. He crossed the distance, wobbly like Rhys, until he reached the pair that scuffled. His leek swung with pinpoint precision and knocked the doctor’s arm away.

Only then did Tavish regain the upper hand. He punched him once, twice, and a third time square in the face. Then, he reached for the knife that gleamed from the sun, and swung it directly into–

The dirt next to Rhys’ head.

Sirens and cars sounded off in the distance. It wouldn’t be long until back up arrived, and he was saved. If the terrorist wanted him dead, he would be dead. Why keep him alive?

“Ya there, ya quack? I need you to listen. Very. Carefully. Er I’ll make sure me blade strikes true.”

---

Rhys Collins

A rough hand gripped Rhys’ face hard, and centered it on Tavish’s face perfectly. “Oh, ya wish it was pity. Then I’d one-up ya one last time as ye died.”

The sounds got closer, but he ignored them. Sir kept an eye out, his Leek always at the ready to slam down at a moment’s notice. Tavish kept his prey still and looked him dead in the eye. To ensure he was conscious, and to ensure he could hear him.

“Listen closely. I ain’t keepin’ ya alive fer fun er sport. Ya see, I think it’d be a good idea to send a message, and yer the perfect runt t’do so. Anyone of ye rotten cowards, who’ve been t’Galar, should remember me by now. But just fer those unaware…”

“Tavish Rose is in Hoenn. Ye’ve cost me my home, an’ I will not stop until all ye evil sinners are six-feet under. Give up your arms, return all yer stolen Pokemon, and turn ye selves in. Pray fer a swift death, like yer friends in the car.”

“Cause I'm done messin 'round with the likes of ye,” he yanked his knife out of the ground, wrenched Rhys’ face to the right, and rose from the ground. The cars were close, now. Either police responding to a call, or Rocket to save one of their own. Likely the latter– the League had proven to care little about domestic affairs otherwise.

“And dontcha ferget it.”

“Farfetch’d!”

---

Rhys Collins