Pro Trainer Chapter 8

Guardian the Bastiodon laboriously shook his head from side to side, trying in vain to shake Quote off his black, wall-like head.  Undaunted, the Larvitar gripped the iron-hard head with his teeth while thrashing away with his stubby arms and legs.  Quote occasionally felt one of his attacks connect with a soft point on the armored pokemon's tough back; he wasn't doing much damage, but he was certainly making his presence felt.

A deep growl rumbled out of Guardian's throat.  "Time to end this, little one."  Small tremors shook the ground as he firmly planted his four stubby legs in the pavement outside the pokemon center.  The Bastiodon began to shake, slowly at first, but with growing speed and intensity.

Nearby, Metarosso, Fireheart, and Leafpool watched the practice battle in various levels of amazement. "What move is he using?  I've never seen anything like that before."  Fireheart asked Metarosso.

"I'm not sure, but it seems to be some sort of internalized Earthquake."  Metarosso responded, fascinated by the vibrating technique.

By then Guardian and Quote were shaking so fast that both appeared to be blurs.

"I can't believe he's still hanging on!" Leafpool said in amazement.  Somehow, the olive-green blur that was the Larvitar still clung desperately to the black and orange blur that was Guardian.

Seconds later, Quote's hold broke.  The Larvitar sailed through the air and landed with a massive thud on the concrete in front of the three spectators.

"Are you alright?!" Leafpool rushed towards Quote, anxiety clouding her features.  Fireheart and Metarosso followed, concerned that the force of the fall might have harmed the Larvitar.

Quote slowly rolled into an sitting position, wavering back and forth with a dazed expression on his face.

"Quote?  You aren't hurt, are you?"  The Leafeon asked again.

"Fine.  Just dizzy."  Quote answered happily before falling backwards with a tiny sigh.  Moments later he began to emit deafening snores.

Guardian slowly stomped over to the group, still shaking slightly from the internal Earthquake.  "Tough little one.  Gonna be strong when he grows up." He grunted to the other three pokemon.

"I can see that." Fireheart turned his gaze towards the Bastiodon.  "What was that technique, anyway?  Did Andrew teach you to do that?"

"Yeah."  Guardian turned away and began lumbering back towards the pokemon center.

Fireheart, Leafpool, and Metarosso looked around at one another.

"I don't fancy battling any of Andrew's pokemon."  Metarosso finally said.

...

"Let's get this meeting started."  Jake settled into one of the lounge chairs inside the pokemon center foyer.  "Eric, did you and Elliot get any info from Looker?"

Elliot and Eric sat on a sofa to Jake's right.  "You better believe we did." Eric said with a smirk.  He proceeded to describe the details the two of them had uncovered.

Andrew, who sat in another lounge chair across from Jake, shook his head in disgust as Eric finished his explanation.  "You mean we have to fly all the way to Kanto?" He asked in exasperation.

"I called a few of my people on our way back here.  They should be arriving
with another Flygon for you and Jake in approximately ten minutes."  Elliot said primly.

"Rich boy." Andrew thought to himself.

Jake stood and stretched, gazing upward in contemplation.  "Glad we can finally get this over with.  I think after this whole deal is done, I'm going to finish Kirly and Quote's training and reenter the Battle Frontier circuit."

Elliot and Eric looked at each other in surprise.  "Already?" Eric asked uncertainly.  "You didn't seem too eager about getting back into battling earlier..."

"I got a well-deserved 'Get a Hold of Yourself Man!' earlier.  Helped me get out of that funk."  Jake explained with a barely perceptible nod in Andrew's direction.

"You and your tropes."  Andrew responded tiredly.  He placed his hands behind his light blonde hair and leaned back into the cushiony chair.  "Let's just get a nap in before our ride gets here."

...

The nighttime Orre desert was unnaturally still.  No wind blew.  The sand barely shifted, and even then only because a lone Dunsparce was making it's way through the dunes.

Mark was woken by the sound of mechanical grinding and sputtering.  With a massive yawn, he clambered out of the tent on his Torterra's back and carefully crawled to the edge of the pokemon's shell.  Grasping one of the arms of the Drifblim he had hitched a ride on, he was greeted by a strange sight as he leaned over the side of Crag: a sort of encampment, with dozens of dark grey airships being loaded with crates by other vehicles.

"Wazzat?  Wadday doin'?"  Slinky the blue-dyed Furret asked as he scrambled onto Mark's head to get a better view of the activity far below.

"I dunno."  Mark squinted a little, trying to make out the contents of one of the open crates.  From this height, he could just make out thousands of red and white spheres.

"Looks like a ton of pokeballs.  Probably just a shipment or something."  Mark pondered this for another moment.  "Except... Orre hasn't exactly been shipping anything lately.  At least, that's what Mom said the other day.  Something about politics, can't remember it.  And wild pokemon in Orre are so rare most people  there don't even bother with pokeballs."

Slinky and Mark glanced at each other conspiratorially.  "You wanna investigate?" Mark asked his companion.

"Indubitib-ab-il- YEAH!"  Slinky responded enthusiastically.