"Yeah," Orion agrees, voice rough with a combination of anger and grief for these Pokémon who hadn't chosen such a horrific fate. "I've only got Hypnosis; do you have something that can soothe them, first?"

He palms the pokeballs belonging to his Gengar and Spiritomb, but doesn't yet call them out. Pokémon who've been subjected to this kind of abuse likely won't take kindly to the sudden appearance of too many others.

Though Altair is at Orion's side as usual, the Absol doesn't have anything with which to assist in such a task. He sits at Orion's feet, perhaps in a display of relaxation to put the anxious captives at ease.

The Glameow that had earlier entered the Illumina State doesn't seem reassured, continuing to growl as fur patterned like the petals of a Crystabloom pulse with dull light.

mission: doesn't take a rocket scientist

Orion doesn't reply, merely gritting his teeth in anger and agony as the DISCHARGE lights up artificial nerves. It's not nearly as painful nor debilitating as it might've been had Pryde grabbed his other arm, but it's not anything approaching pleasant. Blood fills his mouth — he's bitten his tongue.

Naturally, he spits it in the masked man's face.

There's a muted bang! as the STORED POWER in his prosthetic is unleashed in retaliation.

Caught up in the paralytic effects of a THUNDER WAVE, the Silvally growls.

"Ace," Orion grits out.

AERIAL ACE was an unflinchingly accurate move, and the chimera makes up for in precision what it lacks in speed.

Absol acts of its own accord, lunging for the Melmetal with a SUPER LUCKY NIGHT SLASH.

She's right, they don't know one another all that well, and yet Orion feels a rare sense of trust in the other woman. It's not something he develops quickly with most others unless he's enamored with them for other reasons, but in Nikita he simply sees a potential for friendship.

"No one should have to go through this alone." He might be awkward and easily flustered, but he does care about people. The meaning behind it is simple: I could tell you needed the company.

He does laugh in response to her own, strangled sound.

"If that's what you want, absolutely."

There's no hesitation in Orion's answer, only a raw and somewhat embarrassing eagerness.

"Oh, I'd love to."

Only then does it occur to him that there's a couple things Tam could be asking. Sheepishly, he asks, "I mean. I'd love to do either, but which...?"

He'll be made to wait in suspense for an answer, as the children who'd been in front of them rush eagerly away and the man who'd answered the door squints at his much older guests. He doesn't say anything, at least.

It's Orion who fills him in about the missing Skitty, this time, desperate for something to distract from his anxiety. Though familiar with the animal, as it belonged to a neighbour, he shakes his head when asked if it'd been seen.

Orion's suspense is killing him by the time the door closes.

"Either them or that damned Hatchery."

Though he hadn't paid it patronage himself, Orion's seen the results of the Pokémon bred there. Not just Illumina Pokémon but those akin to shadows, as well, and others with moves unheard of. All brought on by an unnatural surge of Infinity Energy. It made him sick.

His heart aches for the Glameow even as the feral cat blinds him with its glow.

"This is so fucked."

He hooks his flashlight onto his belt after turning it off, blinking as his eyes adjust to the lighting. There's a Paras contained in a cage that seems entirely docile; he might've thought it dead if not for the way the mushrooms on its back glow and pulse.

He gives it a soothing stroke before opening the pokeball.

mission: doesn't take a rocket scientist

Orion's expression pinches. "Does anyone?"

He's always hated hospitals. Too many people, too much noise, and there was rarely a good reason to be standing in one if you didn't work there. He feels similarly about Pokémon Centers, for reasons exactly like this:

Weak cries of Pokémon kept in cages far too small to hold them. Most shy away from the beam of the rangers' flashlights, and Orion feels sick to his stomach when he sees the state of them up close. The Illumina patterns are dull with neglect, yet unmistakable for what they were. They glow with the same soft shine of Crystabloom flowers.

"These are the rejects." His tongue is thick in his mouth, voice tight. His flesh-and-blood hand shakes with rage. "Used up and tossed aside when they weren't needed any more."

His eyes burn and he blinks away the emotion.

mission: doesn't take a rocket scientist

I know.

It cannot be described in simple words, the way that makes him feel. Trust. It's not something he earns often, and for good reason. He couldn't be trusted, these days. He could hardly trust himself.

But Tam trusts me. It makes him feel warm.

Warmer, when Tam teases him and his cheeks flush again.

"Shut up," he fires back. "Gonna land myself in hospital just to spite you." A pause. "I don't mean that."

Sometimes, it was hard to know when Tam would take him a little too literally. But, like Tam doesn't mind his blushing, Orion doesn't mind having to clarify on occasion.

He follows the captain, eager.

mission: doesn't take a rocket scientist

"It's good to have you back."

Blushing seems to be a consistent problem when he's around Tam, but it doesn't make him quite as embarrassed as it had in the beginning. Tam never seemed to mind.

Rocket.

Mere mention of the terrorist organization is enough to spark his fury, but Orion is solemn as he nods. He half expects Tam to deny his request on principle, and he isn't going to argue about it. He's been on his best behaviour.

"Wait. Really?"

He grins, ecstatic, then seems self-conscious as he reins it in and composes himself.

"I won't disappoint you. Promise."

mission: doesn't take a rocket scientist

Orion chuckles; it's a fair question.

"Why do we name stars at all? No idea!"

Cheeks flush when Tam continues to speak, complimenting the thought Orion puts into his names. He did spend a lot of time and effort on them, and it was nice to have that effort appreciated. (Especially by Tam.)

"Thanks," he says shyly, smiling.

"Do you like stargazing?"

His eyes light up at the question, the answer evident even though it never makes it past his lips on account of the door opening. Altair dutifully trots up to the threshold to let Ceibo hold out her pumpkin basket, delight in the ordinarily sad eyes of the Phantump as she receives candy in return. It's the cutest thing Orion's ever seen.

Shame there's no news about the Skitty. They move on.

On the short walk to the next house, he says, "I love stargazing. Have you ever been to the Space Center in Mossdeep? They have telescopes you can use! I have my own telescope, too, out back."

Succesfully DETECTING the threat, the Absol deflects the incoming FLASH CANNON with his horn.

Orion is caught off guard by the multiple copies of the masked stranger, but the Rotom in his arm jerks it up hard to PROTECT his face from the incoming punch. It's strange to feel the sensation of pain bloom in an arm made entirely of metal, the artificial nerves doing their job almost too well as he aches in the aftershocks. Adrenaline dulls the pain, and Orion snarls wordlessly.

He has no idea what the strange metal Pokémon might be, guessing only that it's a steel-type based on its appearance.

"Percy! RKS!"

The Silvally leaps to his side.

He quickly swaps for a GHOST-TYPE MEMORY, the chimera's crest rippling from fuchsia to a dull purple-gray. Growling, Perseus swivels toward the Melmetal and fires off a MULTI-ATTACK.

Someone else might've drawn amusement from Nikita's wonderment, but Orion understands. He remembers that feeling of freedom: eighteen years old, the day he'd become an adult and all of his family's influence lost its hold on him. It's sad, he thinks, that it's taken so much of Nikita's life to experience that feeling.

Sadder that it was on the back of her family's deaths.

I don't know who I am, Orion.

"There's no rush in finding out." Well, maybe the imminent meteor impact, but he was doing his best not to think about that. The League has it handled. I hope. "It probably feels really overwhelming right now, but that's OK."

Good news: his heart hasn't given out in the aftermath of his electrifying encounter with Raphael Pryde. Better news: he's back to work, having got the all-clear from his doctor the day before. But the best news, though he wouldn't admit it, is getting to see Tam Fawley again. The captain had visited him in the hospital and kept in touch throughout his week of absence, but still.

He steps into Tam's office with an uncharacteristically relaxed air, apparently in a good mood. Altair, at his side as always, chuffs in greeting.

Immediately he notices something different: Tam's in uniform.

"Going out on a mission?" It's the only time when Slateport's captain isn't in a suit, if his observations are correct. He does spend an abnormal amount of time people-watching, and Tam is one of his favourite people. He's still technically on light duty after the warehouse disaster, but he tries to be casual as he asks, "Can I come with?"

mission: doesn't take a rocket scientist