FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

(Author's Note)

=Character thought=

"Human Speech"

'Telepathy between characters'

{Pokemon Speech}

example: "Ni nine tai tails ninetails ine?" is what a human would hear.

{What do you mean you can't understand me?} is what other Pokemon, and certain humans would hear.

|| * * * | | | * * * || = End Chapter

// // = Major scene change

* * * = Scene Change

Chapter 1:

The mountains of Afghanistan stood tall, imposing, cold, deep in the north of the country. In defiance of this all, almost two dozen merchants had set up a bustling early-morning market amongst the mostly ruined buildings of a town whose name had been long forgotten.

People were chatting with each other in Farsi, Russian, Pashto, and Arabic, and many more dialects. Merchants hawked their goods to the surprisingly large numbers of passerby. The odd snowflake or two drifted down from the overcast sky, although no one paid them or the cool wind much mind.

Two men holding AK-47's were clearing a path for the larger group coming behind them, pushing people out of the way if they hadn't moved yet. As they approached, the activity at each stall in turn quieted. There were seven men in total: the two leading the way and four surrounding a tall, imposing, and intimidating man in the middle.

The intimidating man stopped at the occasional stall. He was tall, broad chested, and carried himself with an air that nothing could touch him. When he stopped, the men around him stopped as well. As he looked at the goods, taking off his dark sunglasses at one point, the six men around him took positions to best defend him.

Following behind the group, a single man watched and waited. From the shadow of a vendor, he looked as if he was inspecting the goods on the stall. The merchant whispered in hushed Farsi. "You are new here?" The man gave a small nod, encouraging the man to keep speaking, "That was Muhammed Alla'wa. Local warlord." The merchant kept his voice down, "There are none who would dare to cross him in these parts. I suggest you avoid him if you value your life." He glanced around with nervous eyes, afraid that another might hear him.

For the first time the other man spoke, "What else should I know about him?" He spoke in perfect Farsi, his accent indistinguishable from how the merchant was speaking.

"Not much. Knowing to much around here gets you in trouble," the merchant responded. "Now," raising his voice, "are you going to buy that necklace? Or just stare at it all day? I can give you a very good deal on it." He said, putting on his best haggling face.

The person simply set the simple silver chain he was holding back down on the table and walked away, ignoring the scowl the merchant gave him. Moving to the next stall, watching as the merchant hawked some foodstuffs, the man stared blankly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the procession continue.

Slipping into an alley, he broke into a trot to make it back to the intersection on the other side of the building before the group moved on. Reaching the edge of the alley, he paused, staring out into the street.

The group was still several stalls down from where he was standing at the end of the alley. He gave an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, seeing that there was a path for him to get close. Another sigh of relief managed to find its way out when he saw exactly who it was that was guarding the warlord.

Slipping out into the street, he seemed to blend into the dull sand-stone wall. The two men who were supposed to clear the way only gave him a glance and a nod as they walked by.

Right on cue, a merchant directly opposite the stalker in the shadows asked, in a timid voice, asked. "S-sir, would you like to t-take a look at some of my fine..." he cleared his throat nervously "...finer wares?"

The warlord stopped and walked to the stall, thinking that it was his presence that was making the merchant nervous. The merchant nervously pattered on about how fine his wares were and other seemingly meaningless talk that merchants say when they are trying to make a sale.

The man in the shadows gave a slow nod to one of those standing guard around the warlord. Returning the nod, a guard made a motion to the others in the group, and all four stepped away from their charge, taking their fingers of the triggers of their weapons.

With a clear path, the one who'd been following the warlord knelt down, lifting the hem of his flowing male garb to reveal a military boot. He pulled a seven inch single-edge knife from its hidden sheath. The blade had a wicked serrated edge running up a 1/4 of its length from the hilt. Gripping it by the synthetic handle, he watched, breathing in slow, regular breaths.

With the blade in his right hand, he waited until the warlord's attention to his surroundings faltered. With blinding speed he dashed/jumped across the 5 meter road, bringing his knife back. His face held no emotion. No fear. No anger. No love for the kill.

None save the guards had time to react. But they didn't, acting as if nothing was wrong. The warlord was left completely unaware of his impending doom.

Time seemed to slow, almost stop even, as the blade neared its destination. Suddenly, the man saw his life pass in a series of confusing, jumbled images.

A young child, no more than 4 or 5, was playing with a Growlithe, laughing and rolling around. He heard a voice call for him, saying it was time for dinner.

An older version of the child, 10 or 11 years old, was out in the woods. This time though, he was playing with an Arcainine. He was laughing when the oversized dog rolled on top of him, licking him happily.

_His home was burning, his family killed. He had done everything he could to save them, but it had not been enough. Through his tears, he heard sirens approaching. He did not want to face the authorities, fearing they would take him in as a freak of nature. He ran, as he had so many times before, through the woods. This time though, he was alone. _

As it always was when he made a kill, time slowed but never stopped. He grabbed the warlord's head with his left hand to hold him still, as his right brought the knife between the warlords ribs and into the man's heart. The coppery smell of blood filled the air as he pulled his knife out, twisting the already lifeless body around.

All of this transpired in no more than two seconds, but now people were staring to react. Several merchants yelled, and dived under their stalls. Women screamed, causing children to cry, and men grabbed their loved ones and covered them.

The assassin was already running down the rough road, almost at the edge of town, before the guards started shooting in his general direction, puffs of dirt flying up from where the bullets struck the ground. Some of them were ringing from where they hit the walls, leaving deep gouges. None of them came anywhere near him.

A grim smile crossed the assassin's face as he ran, almost becoming a blur, as if he was a Pokemon almost. Gracefully, he made his way down the side of the mountain, sometimes falling up to 5 meters before landing with bent knees. He covered several kilometers of rough terrain like this before he finally came to a large cave.

Slowing down, he cautiously approached the cave, his eyes flickering side-to-side. Walking into the cavern, he closed his eyes. The shoulder-length hair on the back of his head stood out, as if he had been hit with electricity. The strangest part though, was when a glowing aqua-marine blue seemed to materialize around him.

The truth was, this man was not fully human. An offspring of a highly taboo act, he was one in half-a-million chance; a human, sired by a Pokemon. Many of his powers and traits had become available, or more pronounced, to him when he hit adolescence. One of these was the famed Aura sight. Through rigorous personal training, he was as adapt at it as some of the greatest of Lucario warriors.

Looking around, the world covered in a strange blue light, he searched for other people. Content that he was alone in the cave, he walked to a 'boulder.' Grabbing the seemingly heavy rock, it bunched up in his hands like cloth. Giving a sharp tug the cloth fell away, revealing a Humvee covered in desert-camo.

The shoulder-length hair on his head fell back down and the blue color faded from his eyes. Ripping off his blood-covered local garb, revealing a simple black tee-shirt and his military leggings and boots. He hopped into the vehicle, started the diesel engine, and drove down the rocky road without a single glance behind back.

* * *

For hours, he drove south, the rough, rocky mountains soon giving way to soft rolling hills and then eventually to the barren, sandy desert that stretched farther than the eye could see.

The hum of the diesel engine was his only companion, no other sounds breaking the almost contemplative silence.

With a glance at the dash, he saw the fuel gauge hovering near -E,- and he gave a deep sigh as he slowed down the Humvee. Killing the engine with a flick of his hand on the key, he opened the door and lightly jumped down and out onto the fine sand that the Middle East is famous for.

Stepping into the blazing late-afternoon sun, he stretched, bringing his arms up over his head, clasping his hands together at the top, seeming to pull his body as he he loosened his muscles. He then bent over, stretching his calves and lower back, muscles slightly sore from sitting the last several hours. Standing up straight again, he looked into the distance. He saw nothing though, save the mountains behind him and to the north.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he opened the back door and grabbed a canister filled with diesel. Quickly popping the cap, he set the plastic jug up at the entrance to the fuel tank, he tipped the jug up, diesel pouring out. It took several minutes, but when he was done filling up the tank, he casually threw the empty canister into the back seat again, sighing slightly.

Without missing a beat, the assassin reached into a large bag that was resting on the backseat, pulling out a bottle of water. Taking a large swig of the sweet nectar, he sighed in relief before looking around, bottle resting in his hands as they hovered by his waist.

The man stood completely still for several minutes, admiring and reveling in the quiet offered by the desert. Letting his mind wander, he started to feel the world around him. The harsh sun slowly setting in the distance, the calm wind that stirred the dust of the desert, the lukewarm water bottle in his hands all lending to a sense of isolation. One that he almost preferred.

"Well, might as well get going," he said sadly to the empty desert, speaking English with a light New England accent. With a smooth pirouette on his left foot so he was facing the Humvee once more, he threw the bottle into the back again, closing the door with a thud. Climbing back into the driver's seat, letting out a quiet sigh, he settled down to drive off again.

Closing the door behind him, he turned the key, listening as the ignition faltered instead of starting. His brow furrowed some and he turned the key again, a mumbled curse directed at the vehicle leaving him. This time, click click cliVROOM!, and a relieved smile crossed the assassin's face as the engine roared to life beneath him.

Shifting the gears and working the clutch, as most military vehicles are still standard transmission, he started driving back on down the empty desert, mind empty once more as he focused on getting back to where he started. His tracks, the only trace he had ever been there, were soon swept away by the constant blowing winds, leaving the desert as perfect as it had been before.

* * *

Night had fallen completely now, and he was still driving down the lonely desert. He was not the kind to fall asleep when he was doing something, due to his training. Although, no doubt, the Pokemon blood flowing through his veins gave him greater endurance than most average humans.

His hair was once again standing, although it was hardly noticeable. Nothing though, not even the brown contacts he wore, could hide the faint blue light coming from them. The only reason he had the headlights on was that he didn't feel like being shot by the U.S. military.

He gave a sharp laugh and shook his head at the thought. "Yeah, that would not be a great way to end my career." Looking back at the road, he continued to talk to himself, "I can see it now," he took his left hand off the steering wheel and made a right-to-left sweep with his hand, "'U.S. agent shot by own military comrades. Government Investigates'." He laughed at the thought that he would make the New York Times headlines. "Oh yeah," still chuckling, "like that 'ill ever happen."

Talking to one's self though was not his favorite pastime, as silence slowly took hold. Very soon, the only sound in the Humvee was the hum of the diesel engine as he drove over the barren desert, even more so in the dark of night.

Off in the distance though, there soon was a light. A light that made the driver give a relaxed sigh as it came into sight. Because he knew that they were coming from one of the U.S. military bases.

The base perimeter was 6 miles in diameter, with double staked barbed-wire-barricades. There were only two entrances onto the base, one on the south side, one on the north, where the assassin was driving from. Most of the base was dark, except for the gates, the periodic watchtower along the perimeter, and a handful of command-and-control tents.

With a glance down at the clock on the dash, set to military time, he quietly read out, "0045. Damn, it's late." Most people would at least be tired after seeing the time. He had the uncanny knack for being able to stay up for days at a time though, without the use of coffee. A very useful trait at times, particularly when on a long-term mission; he was just grateful that this had not been one of those.

As he pulled up, one of the soldiers at the gate held up his hand in an order to stop. Without hesitation, man slowed down his vehicle and rolled down his window, a smile gracing his face.

"Evening sir," the soldier said as he approached, shining a flashlight into the vehicle that temporarily blinded the driver. "You're out late tonight," he continued in a slightly serious tone.

With a sheepish grin, the black-haried man just shrugged slightly, giving a small chuckle "ehh, I know. I just want to get in and hit the sack."

The soldier gave a chuckle himself as well, his demeanor on alert but relaxed. "Yeah, I bet," he said, his voice becoming a bit more serious, "but you should know the regulations. No one is allowed onto the base by car after 2245 or before 0500, without express orders."

At that, the man in the car reached into the back seat and reached for his bag, causing the soldier to take a step back out of instinct, hand resting on his rifle as he watched in suspicion. Meanwhile, rummaging through his bag, the driver soon said, "ah, here it is," bringing out a file in his grasp.

Looking back up, he then handed the paperwork to the soldier, who took the file and opened it, his shoulders still tense. Reading the papers over several times, the soldier promptly handed them back to the man in the vehicle and nodded slightly. "Well, you know the procedure. Pop the hood, and step out of the vehicle."

Nodding his head, the man hopped out of the Humvee. One of the three soldiers stood by the man while the others visually inspected the vehicle. After a a minute or so, the one who had stopped him gave a whistle. At his call came a Houndoom, wagging his tail happily, glancing curiously at the man who had been driving the car. The soldier knelt down, scratching the black dog behind the ears, "Alright, I need you to give the car a once-over, make sure there aren't any explosives and such."

"Hound," the black dog affirmed with a nod and hopped into the car without a care in the world. Sniffing around furiously, he jammed his snout into the crakes of the seats, under the seats, everywhere that a bomb could be hidden. Meanwhile, the driver made idle chat with one of the soldiers that was standing next to him, passing the time as he waited for the team to finish their inspection. Not even a minute later, the black dog jumped out of the car and looked up at the the soldier. "Doom," he said, shaking his head.

"Well, everything checks out," the first soldier said with a nod, allowing the man to get back into the Humvee, "sorry about the delay." The soldier then gave a signal to the gatehouse, and the gates opened with a soft clink-clink of metal. "Have a nice night sir."

"Thank you, you too." The man said with a small wave, putting the vehicle into gear and driving onto the base.

Entering the base, he drove down the dimly lit roads, towards the motor pool, hopping out of the car one he got there. Looking looked around, wondering slightly where everyone was, until he saw a mechanic wearing a tan shirt and light-sandy colored pants, walking toward him from the back of the depot.

"Can I help you?" The mechanic asked, wiping some oil from his hands with a rag.

With a nod, the man tapped the Humvee twice, saying "yes, I signed this out two days ago, and I just came to sign it back in."

The mechanic gave a sigh and gestured to the garage. "Just drive it on in. I'll take care of the paperwork."

"Thank you so much, running on zero sleep for 36 hours is not fun," he said with a sighing chuckle, jumping back into the Humvee and starting her back up.

At that, the mechanic gave a deep laugh, pointing as he said "I heard that."

Once the Humvee was in place, he man grabbed his bag out of the back seat, swinging and sliding out of the car again. Turning to the mechanic with a smile, he shouldered the bag as he gave a slight nod towards the vehicle, "I've been driving her for almost 16 hours straight, so take it easy on her?"

The mechanic gave a long, low whistle, shaking his head at that "damn, man. You need to take easy on these girls. You piss her off, then I have to calm her back down again."

The man gave another laugh, his demeanor as easy-going as the mechanic's, "yeah, well. This is the last time I'm taking one of these fine girls out for a spin." The man said, giving a couple of loving pats to the hood of the Humvee.

With a look of envy, the mechanic grinned widely and pointed, saying "you lucky dog. You going back stateside?" Almost in an accusatory way, joking though as well.

The man nodded, giving a sly wink as he didn't answer at all. Simply turning on his heel, he walked away, the mechanic yelling after him, "come on man. Tell me how you got that deal? ahh.. whatever. I'll just ... go back to working on the vehicles, as that's all I ever do around here."

That made the man smile as he made his way through the dimly lit paths of the base, this time on foot. There was no one out in the cool night air other than him, despite his constant searching with ears and eyes. He knew that what the mechanic had said was true, he was lucky to be heading stateside.

Soon enough though, he was standing in front of a command tent at the heart of the base. The semi-permanent structure had been tacked down securely enough that no light shone out, except for the entrance. Flanking the door there stood two soldiers, both armed with M4's, looking alert despite the fact it was the wee hours of the morning.

As the man came closer and into the red-light, they both gave him a small salute. Nodding back to them in acknowledgment, he pushed the flap aside and strode in.

On the inside, unlike what the outside suggested, there was a bustle of activity. Soldiers sat at computer screens, occasionally with a higher ranking officer leaning over their shoulder, as information was processed. The clacking of keyboards might have been the loudest sound, but the murmur of activity as information came in pervaded the air.

The agent casually walked through this room, none of the soldiers paying him any attention save a single glance, heading towards a map room in the back. In the map room, a Lieutenant General stood over a map table, with a Brigadier Generals on either side of him. The most interesting thing that drew the assassin's attention was the map, one of the new virtual three-dimensional maps. The two Brigadier Generals were both talking as they pointed to different positions on the map, "....with information showing a potential build-up of insurgents here," the General on the far left pointed to another location, "and here." When his hand passed through the virtual landscape, the image flicked ever so slightly in the man's wake.

As the General on the far left pointed to a second location, the one on the far right spoke up, "Unfortunately, a lack of reliable ground intel will prevent authorization on this second location," the second Brigadier General said, leaning back and scratching the morning stubble his chin with his left hand.

The Lieutenant General continued to lean over the map, dark brown eyes flicking over it, both hands on the edge of the table supporting him. He glanced up to see the man standing in the shadows and giving him a tiny nod, the General quickly returned his full attention to the map.

"Washington will have our heads either way," he said, standing up. "We hit them without verifiable intel, we piss off the locals," sighing, he brought his hand up to the back of his balding head and rubbed it. "We go in with solid intel, they might not be there by the time we mobilize." He gave a deep sigh as he stared at the map, deep in thought. "We have them on the run. Verify the intel, if they aren't there by the time our troops get there... Well there will always be a second chance. I don't want any mistakes.... not now. Not on our way outa here" He turned away from the map to the two Brigadier Generals, clasping his hands behind his back, "Those are my orders, dismissed."

"General," the two men responded with salutes, snapping to attention. They gathered up their papers and walked out of the map room, both of them discussing various things that they would need to do.

Waiting patiently, the assassin was leaning against one of the supporting pole's that held up the tent, arms crossed over his chest. The General gave a weary sigh as he sat down, reaching for his now-cold cup of coffee, almost ignoring the man in the corner. He stared at it briefly before reaching to his belt, grabbing a red-and-white ball off of it. Giving the center button a click, the device expanded to the size of a softball. Pressing a second button, it opened revealing a beam of red light. Very quickly, the beam took shape, a three foot orangish lizard, with a flame burning on the end of her tail stood in the map room now, her amber eyes filled with happiness as she looked up at the General, giving a soft "Charmeleon," raising a claw in imitation to a wave.

The General gave it a pat on the head, a weary smile on his face. "Hey Ruby, my girl." The Charmeleon gave a soft purr like growl from the attention, leaning her head into his caressing touches. "I hate to bother you with something like this," he reached towards his cup, lifting it up, "would please heat this up?"

With an amused look, the Charmeleon reached up and took the cup from him, almost giggling under her breath. Holding it with one of her two clawed hands, she brought her tail around, bringing the flame under the cup, slowly warming the liquid.

For the man though, he'd finally had enough, stepping out of the shadows. Moving closer to the table, whose virtual map had been turned off, he pulled up a chair and sat down across from the general, watching silently. "General," he said after a moment, bringing said man's attention back to his guest.

"Ah, Jayden, sorry about that. Haven't been able to sleep lately," he said as way of an apology, giving a helpless shrug of his shoulders.

"It's fine Shaun." Jayden said, his face lightening up slightly, "I know not everyone can stay awake for weeks at a time." When he said that, both he and the general chuckled at the in-joke, old times passing by their minds.

"Char," the orange lizard suddenly interrupted them, handing the cup back to the general, still smiling widely.

"Thanks Ruby," the General said, taking a sip of the now hot coffee, sighing happily. Then, leaning back and looking at Jayden, the General made no move to say or do anything else.

Silence ruled for several seconds, before Jayden started, taking the invitation "it's done. He won't be a problem anymore." The General nodded at this, allowing Jayden to continue, "But you know the real reason I came here this morning." The strange blue returned to his eyes, unnerving the General slightly.

General Shaun's eye twitched ever so slightly, before he gave a deep sigh. Setting down his cup on a side table he looked at Jayden, "so you really plan on going through with it?" To which, Jayden only nodded. The General sighed again as he tried his best to persuade Jayden, "and what makes you think they'll let you go? You are a danger to them out there." As he spoke, he reached under the table and pulled out a file, "and the terms you've demanded," the General just shook his head, "I doubt they'll accept them."

Jayden's face held no reaction the whole time the General had spoken, bidding his time. When he did speak, it was clear and even toned, "they'll accept the terms, because they know they don't want me as an enemy. Plus, even they know better than to try and get rid of me, with what I know," that last phrase, Jayden's eyes narrowing slightly, gauging the General's reaction.

The Brigadier General sighed deeply at this, and brought his left hand to his temple. Rubbing it while looking at the papers before him, both sat in silence, Jayden looking at Shaun, Shaun at the paper, the Charmeleon watching both of them curiously.

"Fine." the General said, snapping off the word. "I'll sign it." When he did so, he handed it over to Jayden, not with a smile, sadness in his eyes. "We'll be much weaker without you," he said, a hint of something almost like sorrow tinging his voice.

Jayden just laughed softly, standing up from his chair, "you'll be fine. If I know you, you'll find a way without me." Looking over the file briefly, Jayden made to walk out, turning on his foot as he faced the door.

Before he could move though, the General stood up as well, and offered his hand. Pausing, Jayden looked at the offered hand before grasping it tightly, shaking hands with his old friend. With a nod, the General smiled sadly as he quietly spoke, "Godspeed Jayden."

Jayden smiled at that, now feeling a true sense of sadness, "and to you General." With that, he released the General's hand, turning and walking straight out of the tent and back into the night air. Hefting the bag on his shoulder again, he walked to his building on the far side of the base, mind deep in though. Entering the abode, he silently set his bag down, laying out on the bed and passing out as soon as he closed his eyes, never having changed out of his clothing.

* * *

The morning came just a few short hours later, bright sunlight and the bustle of military activity as the base came to life was more than enough to wake Jayden. Looking out of the window, a luxury on a military base, he watched as soldiers went about their business, taking care of weapons and equipment.

Going into the private shower, he knew he only had ten minutes of water before it was cut off for the day, so he set about with a purpose. Turning the faucet, he started to shower, scrubbing the grime of sand and dirt off of himself. Just a few minutes later, he stepped out of the shower, looking in the mirror at his bedraggled face. With a cocked grin, he took a pair of scissors, and started lopping off his long hair, quickly shortening and making him look far more civilized, as well as more professional. Reaching and taking ahold of the razor, he also shaved, until his skin was smooth.

Tapping the mirror, smiling as he looked a different man, he stepped out of the tiny bathroom, having dressed quickly before leaving. Hearing a rustling next to him, Jayden quickly turned out of instinct, until he saw the cause of the noise. That's when a true, unadulterated smile formed on his mouth, the man quickly going to one knee.

Out of a pile of clothing popped a small, jackal-esque blue head, two bright ruby eyes blinking sleep away. When she saw the man though, a bright smile crossed her face, and she squealed with glee, leaping towards him. "JAY!!" She shouted, clothes flying from her bound, arms wrapping around the man's neck and pulling him into a powerful hug.

With a heartfelt laugh, gladly returning her tight hug, the man sighed contently, letting her nuzzle his chin and cheek. Holding each other, they stayed there for a couple of seconds, until, sadly, Jayden leaned back a little, "my little Aura," he said, leaning in to rub his nose with hers "soon we'll be able to leave."

She leaned her face back, her eyes the size of dinner plates as she looked at him. "You..you mean...?" She was speechless at what he told her. He just nodded at her unasked question. Silently she dived her muzzle back into his shirt, to shocked to do anything else. He just held her while she silently cried tears of joy, almost radiating about her as her powers slowly took visible shape.

Jayden then gently pushed her back just a touch, so he could talk to her more directly. She looked up at him with questioning eyes, and he started speaking quietly, "there's just a few details I have to work out." She looked at him sadly, and he quickly continued, "I won't even have to leave the base. It'll just take me getting to my boss, some quick negotiation, and back here. An hour, two tops." Her eyes started watering again and he held her close, enjoying the comfort she brought him, knowing that soon, she'd never have to cry again.

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please, please, please, comments, votes, PMs if you don't want to say it in public. I love getting critique!

And, for the record: Pokemon is not mine, by any means. All Pokemon related characters/ideas are owned by GameFreak and others. Only the original story line/character ideas are mine. Please ask me before using them ^.^