[National Pokémon Association, Pokémon League, Lily of the Valley Island, the Sinnoh Region]
The Pokémon League Headquarters remained as magnificent as ever. The castle, having stood for many hundreds of years, served as one of the many architectural marvels of the region. Its intricately designed pointed arches and looming spires represented the people of Sinnoh well, enduring and strong. The rose window upon the building's front side would dazzle against the clear blue waters below. Few other places could compare.
Tranquil was a good word to describe the scene. The slow ripples across the lake reflected the amazing sky above, with not a cloud in sight. Periodically, young Buizel would leap from the still pool, sending sparkles everywhere. The call of Starly from high up above. A Chatot's melodic song drifted atop the gentle breeze, infecting the area with sound. Wild Pokémon played in the tall grass. Bidoof and Budew, Kricketot and Buneary. A few people walked the grounds accompanied by their own partners, playing and exploring the landmark. Children ran about enjoying the warm weather, a rare sight in bitterly cold Sinnoh.
Everything was perfect. Or, at least it was until the sound of an old, rickety engine began barrelling its way up towards the structure. A brown, open-top Jeep bounced across the gravel road, quickly gaining the attention of all those around. The truck soon swerved at the building's front entrance, kicking up a wave of dust and leaving tire-tracks in the well-maintained grass. The people and Pokémon around all turned to look towards the new arrival.
The figure slammed open their door, racing from the vehicle. A heavy, exasperated breathing could be heard from the person, as they overlooked the castle. At first, the identity of the stranger wasn't clear. And yet, any Sinnoh resident would have known his name. A few gasps broke out from a few of the passers-by, not expecting to see such a famous figure on this day. It made sense. It wasn't everyday that one got to see the champion of Sinnoh.
However, the man before them was not dressed like how a champion usually looked in his sweater-vest, suit and tie. He gave more the appearance of a learned historian or science professor than he did a professional trainer of Pokémon. Yet, here he was. His hair and signature giant moustache shook in the wind, though this didn't appear to faze him. It would have to take a lot more to scare a champion. A few amongst the crowd began to whisper his name, hoping for some affirmation, "T-That's Professor Rowan, right?!"
Professor Rowan overlooked the hordes of onlookers who had quickly found out his identity with irritation, now wasn't the time for paparazzi. Having caught his breath, he gave one last look at the ground underfoot, preparing himself for the shouting match that he was about to endure. It wasn't his favourite part about the job, though nowadays many of the supposed 'perks' of being the Champion seemed more like curses he was forced to bear. Unable to continue his pursuit of science, or his love for adventure in a far-off region. Rowan had to deal with the petty-squabbles amongst trainers and the government, constant media-circuits, and so forth.
If he had had some better sense, Rowan would have ditched the title years ago when he realised what the job really meant, but his morals kept him shackled. Sinnoh currently faced too many threats on all sides, and the current generation of trainers couldn't match up. He could only hope that sooner or later some new-blood trainer would come along and do away with the old-guard like himself. He was already getting too old for the lime-light, and he certainly didn't mesh well with the life. Unlike his contemporary, Oak, in the Kanto region, who appeared to relish in the spotlight as Champion. That man was a blockhead either way, not knowing his Poliwrath from his Politoed.
He had procrastinated long enough, steeling himself one last time, practically able to hear the childish arguing from out here. With a final breath, he began his march forward into the castle. At least for now, Rowan was the Champion, and he had to act like it. A Champion couldn't be seen acting weak or indecisive, they represented their region. And as long as he held the position, he would serve Sinnoh with dignity and diligence.
====================
Rowan's footfall echoed loudly within the hallowed halls of the Pokémon, and yet it was still not as loud as the voices in the adjacent conference room. "May I REMIND you Palmer. The Elite Four does not take SUGGESTIONS from the Pokémon Association. WE give you the authority to act on OUR behalf for the betterment of the region's health. And WE withhold the power to withdraw such authority." The Champion closed his eyes, hoping that the ever energetic and proud Palmer would hold his tongue at least until he himself had arrived. He would have no such luck.
As he crossed the long hallway towards the conference room, Rowan soon noticed a lean figure in purple standing leant up against the wall, outside the meeting. A younger man, no older than twenty, wore a wide-brimmed purple hat and suit-jacket. His angular features stood out underneath the mess of hair, with bright purple eyes. He certainly keeps to his colour palette, Rowan thought to himself.
It wasn't long however until the young man noticed the Champion, straightening his back and lowering his head in respect. Rowan raised his hand slightly, not one for formal greetings, and they both knew each other personally. Down by the purple man's legs, a young Pokémon stood upright with big, wide eyes. It too bowed it's head, though more so in an attempt to mimic it's trainer. The Champion smiled at the small blue, baby canine. It's black fur around it's eyes giving it the appearance of a bandit, A Riolu.
"Ah, Professor Rowan. Your just in time for the good part!" The young man said. The Champion responded with an unenthused look, "Don't get me started, Riley." Rowan looked down at the baby fighting-type, "Riolu's coat looks healthy, it shows your taking good care of him. I'm glad." Riley lowered the brim of his hat bashfully, "Oh, thank you, Sir. That means a lot coming from the Champion."
"Your brother is sure to be proud. Speaking of which, is everyone here?" Rowan asked. Riley nodded, "All accounted for, just you left, Sir." The champion gave an appreciative smirk, "Speak to you soon. I still need to see how that Riolu fares in a real fight." The young man in purple gained an excited grin, "I can't wait!" And so too did the young Riolu, who raised a readied paw. Rowan chuckled, however now came time to actually join the meeting, the fact that he had been dreading the entire time.
As the Champion pushed open the door, the shouting had only grown louder then before, specifically between two figures, the Elite Four's Palmer, and the Pokémon Association's Chairman. "Listen, Chairman! I have no problem with the Association, but we're not getting enough time here!" The same energetic voice rang out. Palmer was a man within his early-thirties, with scruffy dirty-blonde hair, and he couldn't stand sitting opposite the snooty government politician for any longer. He was a man of action, not of words. Being scolded for problems beyond his control was not his ideal use of time.
"I've been out for the last few months searching for these Pokémon hunters. They're slippery, and keep falling into the cracks as soon as I catch 'em!" He continued, his voice growing louder and louder. "We can deal damage ourselves, but without enough qualified trainers running about, it's going to take much longer!" Rowan crept into the room, though stealth was not his greatest strength, immediately notifying the room to his presence. He gave the table a guilty smile, scratching the back of his neck. However, it wasn't long before he found himself a chair in between the Elite Four.
"We told you this would happen! We're strong, and so are the Gym Leaders, but there are too many reports coming in for us all to handle!" Palmer continued, growing angrier by the second. Rowan leaned down towards the woman on his right-side, Bertha of the Elite Four. An older woman, they were both around the same age and at least a decade older then the others. Her speciality was ground-types, a surprising revelation to most unfamiliar with the legendary trainer. "You are late again, Rowan..." She scolded, though her face wore a small smile.
"I know, I had some urgent business to attend to." He responded, but that was good enough for her, "What have I missed?" Bertha let out a small sigh, "Oh, nothing much. Palmer is Palmer..." Rowan chuckled quietly, "Isn't that so." Berth and Rowan were of a different generation to the others in the room. Sinnoh had always been known for the great skill of their trainers, and that was reflected upon those who wished harm upon the region too. Growing up in that era, without strong trainers to combat the waves of criminality and subversion, Sinnoh as a nation may no longer have stood as it had done for centuries.
That was the key issue however, they simply didn't make trainers like they used to. A few assorted youngsters appeared every now and then, even securing local positions as Gym Leaders. Yet, the strength needed for a new Champion and their Elite Four, were in severe drought. The Pokémon League could win in a fight and cause, but five people couldn't secure a state alone. Rowan and Bertha were still alive and kicking, but for how long? A backup plan was needed, and right now they simply had nothing left.
The Chairman's face had been growing redder and redder throughout the argument, like an angered Voltorb, ready to explode. He wasn't a tall man, holding only a relatively short stature. However, he held a professional attire, with neatly cut hair and a spotless pair of glasses hiding the bursting blood vessels upon his face. Yet, even this did little to hide the infuriated scowl below his bushy moustache. It was hard for him to not see the four opposite him as children. Naïve people with far too much power and little resolve to strengthen the region's security and defence. In a Pokémon world, humans could only go so far on their own. Master-level trainers were needed to combat the greater threats. While he would have very much wanted to work alongside a more cooperative group of individuals, this was the lot he was dealt.
"Are you all not supposed to be the ELITE FOUR of the Sinnoh region?! Have we not been famed world-wide for the strength and impressive calibre of our trainers?!" The Chairman roared out. "We are proud people! Not like the rabble-rousers of Kanto or Johto, and I intend on preserving our great traditions..." he continued, slamming his fist down onto the table. "And I refuse to see a return to the disorder we went through in my younger years!" Brief memories flashed quickly through the Chairman's head, news reports of Jubilife and Hearthome in flames. Outlaws and criminal gangs, equipped with well-trained monsters rampaging through entire villages, taking and destroying as they went. He would do anything to prevent a return to those dark times.
"Our current Champion can't even schedule meetings on time! On what grounds do you expect me to believe you all have any chance at dealing with these threats?!" Rowan winced in embarrassment, knowing that he was right on that issue, it wasn't excusable but this time he had a valid reason. Interrupting him however, a woman's voice intervened, "Is it not the Association's job to promote and manage trainers across Sinnoh? To me at least, it seems more like you're not doing a good enough job getting young folk into the profession."
Across the table from the Champion sat another member of the Elite four, Argenta. Similar in age to Palmer, their personalities were quite similar too. Importantly however, she could maintain a diplomatic façade while he couldn't. One of the more recognisable members of the Elite Four, her short purple hair, red jacket and unusual glasses were known all across Sinnoh. Eccentric being a word commonly used to describe the woman. "Not that I'd ever willingly agree with Palmer, but even a broken clock is right twice a day, as they say..."
"Hey!" Palmer shouted in defence, though his complaint went unheard. The Chairman let out an exasperated breath of air, "It's not so simple as that." He answered, pushing up the bridge of his glasses. "Most new trainers are barely getting their first few badges. The number of those with all eight is infinitely lower..." The Chairman continued, "And with the great responsibilities associated with being a trainer, less and less people are signing up for licences. People want to raise and battle Pokémon, not fight terrorists and enemies of the region."
"What's clear to me is how disorganised this whole operation is..." The last of the Elite Four spoke up, Silas, and older brother to Riley. He held a steely, iron stare, strong enough to make the strongest trainer flinch. Long, purple hair draped down his back, braided in parts, and concealing one-half of his face. Around his wrists were traditional prayer beads, not an uncommon sight to be seen around Sinnoh. While the youngest of the four, Silas was by far the most serious, in contrast to the loud Palmer, or the every quick-witted Argenta. A rare find amongst the new and unpolished batch of Pokémon trainers.
"Palmer is tasked with Poachers, Argenta on criminal gangs, and myself on the fanatics. We are stretched too thin. Unable to share information efficiently. While shameful, perhaps it's time we start looking at other options. Petition help from the other regions..." Rowan believed the idea to be a good one, but knowing Palmer, Argenta and the Chairman, it would be hard to sway their regional pride. "One Sinnoh trainer is just as good as ten from Kanto or Johto, what's the point in getting dead-weight!" Palmer shouted out. "I'd prefer if we didn't make a mockery of our home, thank you very much..." Argenta remarked, evidently both unhappy with the proposition.
"I would prefer Sinnoh to survive then to have no Sinnoh at all." Silas finished. There was a noticeable silence afterwards, none between the five truly sure at how to come at the issue best. The Chairman let out a quiet cough, "We already have the International Police snooping around. I would prefer it if that was where the external intervention ended." Bertha looked around the table wearily, "This arguing will get us nowhere. There are too few of us to allow infighting. And if we cannot work together for the betterment of the people, then no one will." As wise as ever, her disciplined words spoke true, they had little other options.
Rowan tapped his hand on the table, "Mayhap I suggest an alternative approach, Chairman?" The Association leader gave a short nod, "Go on, Champion. Let's hear it." The Professor gestured to Silas, "I would have to agree with our youngest member. Attempting to subdue all threats across the board has done more harm than good..." He explained, putting his intelligence on display. "Instead of fighting on multiple fronts, turning our whole attention to one organisation at a time may bear more noticeable results."
The Chairman stroked the bottom of his chin, "I wouldn't be against a change in strategy if it means ending these threats for good. Though the question remains, which to target first?" Strewn across the table were multiple files, with expansive records of photos and dates, descriptive records of suspects and a list of crimes. Three main files sat before them however, thick and arduous to pick through. He directed their attention towards the first file, a brown document with a large 'R' imprinted on the cover, in bold, red text.
"As I'm sure you all know, the criminal organisation known as Team Rocket has begun expanding its operations outside of its homebase in Kanto. It now holds local control in the Johto and Hoenn regions. While we had taken precautions against an infiltration from their group, somehow they have made their way through. However, unlike elsewhere, they are still developing their control in secret." The Chairman stated, a few beads of sweat running down his forehead.
"From our reports in collaboration with the International Police, Team Rocket had pre-empted the fierce opposition in Sinnoh..." Opening the file, a few bundles of photographs flew out, though all shadowy and obscured, and showing little detail. "The task of establishing a powerbase has been assigned to three of Team Rocket's most elite Executives. Information is limited. All we have are their official codenames; the Judge, the Jury and the Executioner." Rowan would have rolled his eyes at the names a few months ago, and yet now they appeared quite intimidating. They weren't some joke. Real people had been hurt and killed. From the small amount of Pokémon they had rescued from unmarked facilities, what they went through appeared even worse.
"They're not just hurting people..." Argenta continued, "They're infecting the very region itself. Blackmarkets and unlicensed underground fighting rings keep springing up everywhere. They showed up every now and then in recent years, but not to this degree." It was clear from her expression how much she despised the organisation. It was a surprising break in demeanour from the woman, never one to let a problem tell her what she couldn't do. "I've caught a few green recruits. Team Rocket is using these gatherings to filter money across their outposts across the region, but also to bolster their numbers."
Bertha lowered her head in thought. Team Rocket created the conditions of fear. Anxiousness created unrest and a desire for change. People were being forced to adopt criminality to avoid becoming victims themselves. It was a horrid strategy, and what made it worse was how successful it had been. In hindsight, perhaps the violence from years past hadn't gone away. Rather, it had been temporarily suppressed, waiting to boil over. Now they reaped what had been sowed.
The Chairman moved onto the second file. Unlike the first however, this one appeared more vague, with no clear designation to suggest its affiliation. "Poachers, Hunters, whatever you want to call them. They smell blood in the water. Seeing the strain Sinnoh is under already, organised criminals specifically trained to capture Pokémon have also made their way into the region. These mercenaries work independently from other criminal organisations, that makes them faster and more well-trained then your average grunt."
"However, worryingly our reports have indicated that the Hunters may be working in tandem with Team Rocket. There is a lot of money in the poaching business. It's a profitable venture for criminals, but it also helps build up their firepower. The longer these Hunters are left to their own devices the stronger Team Rocket grows too." Palmer shook his head violently, "These guys are even more crafty than your usual criminals. They use weird gadgets in fights and they don't play fair. I can't count how many times I've nearly backed them into a corner only for them to throw out something new from up their sleeve..."
The last file looked slightly different to the other two. Its size was deceptively small, and its contents held a pitiful amount of information. Yet, what it did hold appeared far more graphic and dark then either of the other two documents. "The Cult of Darkrai." The Chairman said sternly, as if even saying the name would call for the mythical demon itself. "The group isn't a new one, I'm sure at least us old folk remember the disturbances over two decades ago..." Rowan and Bertha both gave a small solemn nod in acknowledgement. The others knew of the group's previous exploits from articles or news reports, but hadn't experienced it like their seniors had.
"They were all but wiped out with the death of their previous leader all those years ago. However, it appears that they have a new head, and they've gone on the offensive." As the files were passed around, it was hard not to react with disgust. Gritty crime scenes, dead bodies of human and Pokémon alike. Body parts missing from some, and blood everywhere.
Rowan's brow tensed as he focused on the images, before placing it face down upon the desk. Next to him, he couldn't help but notice the young Silas unable to look away, completely focused on the horrific scene. It made sense considering his 'personal' relation. Rowan placed a hand upon the young man's shoulder, snapping him back to reality, "It's just a photo. Don't let them get in your head. That's what they want." The Elite Four member took a deep breath, giving a small nod towards the Champion, "I know, I know."
The Chairman slammed shut his own dossier, gaining the full attention of the table. "Decide amongst yourselves what your plan of action will be. Let the Association know so we can provide as much help as possible." He said, commitment evident in his voice. While he may have not held the highest opinion of some around the table before him, it was clear that he only wanted the best for Sinnoh. "The people look up to you five as their protectors. If you show weakness then the people have nothing else left to hang onto..."
"You've all proved your strength countless times, that is why you five are sitting here right now, and you certainly don't need me to tell you all this. This is where it matters the most. I have faith that you will all serve the region well." The Chairman gave the table a final nod, perching a small hat atop his head, and his briefcase in hand. Giving his final goodbyes, the Champion and Elite Four were left to themselves. "That guy REALLY gets on my nerves, talking to us like we're children or something! Who does he think he is?!" Palmer shouted energetically. Argenta let out a loud sigh, "You are a child, Palmer."
Argenta then turned her attention towards Rowan, "We know what we've got to do, now it's up to the Champion to make a decision." Rowan looked around the table, seeing all eyes now upon him, and awaiting his command. He was working on a strategy, or the makings of a strategy anyways. He hadn't become the resident Pokémon Professor and Champion of the Sinnoh region for nothing.
"Worrying will do us no good. Trust in me. I have a plan."