The Origin of Lucario 10

Lucario stood shocked before the legions of hardened Team Galactic soldiers and their vicious pokemon, with their captive--his young human friend, Ricky Manzanares--staked down on the grass below.  The cruel, yellow-haired commander who had been beaten by Lucario a few days prior stood at the forefront; the cocky man addressed his opponent with more than a hint of derision.

“Y’see, this is how it’s gonna go down,” he began with a smirk.   “You go along with us, and the little kid here doesn’t meet with an unfortunate accident.  You try messing with our...watch’a call’em, Auras?  You mess with our Auras and our pokemon will rip him to ribbons.  Try anything with our pokemon, and we will be the ones messing up the kid, right?  There’s too many of us to take in one sweep, no matter how kickass you think you are.  It’ll just be best for both of you to go along.”

Lucario needed time to figure out some way to free Ricky without putting the child in harm’s way; he decided to attempt a stall with conversation.

I know that I trounced you rather soundly in our last encounter, he began, racking his brain for some way to escape the crisis,  But is your wounded pride really worth this much effort?  Or, is it the fact that you seemed to be astonished that I can ‘talk’?

The commander just kept on going with his malignant smile, and responded, “Well, last time y’stole our pokemon and set them free, but you didn’t take away our empty poke balls.  We snuck up to where you were staying that night and planned on capturing ya in your sleep; but, while we were waiting, we overheard a most interesting story: a tale about an old monastery with an ancient tub filled with this absolutely fascinating liquid that would turn anybody who touched it into a pokemon.  So, we held a little discussion, and I decided that though talking pokemon, the act of reprimanding little troublemakers, and getting revenge are all wonderful motivators, that wonderful liquid really just stole the cake, y’know?  So we ran down to the warehouse, contacted HQ, and whaddya know; a whole set of new troops for the attaining of said item!”

As Ricky’s eyes widened under the net, Lucario found himself, for one of the few times in his life, completely stunned.  What dark scenario have I caused with my inattentiveness?  Lucario found himself thinking that if he had been paying close attention, he probably would have noticed those Team Galactic goons meandering about that night, and he certainly would have refrained from mentioning such a volatile substance.

Lucario realized that, to prevent a great travesty from occurring to the world, he’d have to stop these ambitious humans at any cost.  For though Lucario believed in the total equality of humans and pokemon, he found himself realizing that it would certainly be distressing for any human to be suddenly ripped away from the life they knew and be thrust into what was certainly an entirely different world; it would akin to how he viewed the capture of pokemon in poke balls, but far more life-shattering.

Lucario made a mad dash at the commander, but as he neared the man, he realized too late that the man wasn’t moving, or even making any move to protect himself.  As Lucario drew within striking distance of the Galactic commander, the ground suddenly gave way beneath his feet.  Normally, Lucario would simply have leapt off the unstable earth, but he felt some sort of force shoot through him, and he fell motionless into the trap.

As Lucario lay within the sloping pit, small brown mole-ish heads began popping up around him.  The commander’s jeering cackle could be heard coming from above.  “Amazing thing aren’t they?” he sneered down.  “Dugtrio and Diglett, I mean.  They Dig a hole and cover it up with a fragile layer of dirt that looks no different from the average joe piece of soil; and, when the victim steps on it, their Arena Trap ability stops them from making any move to save themselves!  The boss wasn’t about to let this prize escape us; he imported pokemon foreign to this region!”  By this time Lucario was beginning to fight the effect of Arena Trap, beginning to move his limbs just a small portion.  The commander made a small tsking noise.

“Well, we can’t have you running amok; you’re too strong for own good.  So...the only thing to do is to make sure you can’t move!”  With that the horde of Dugtrio moved in and began doing damage to Lucario; however they could manage: scratching, chucking clods of earth, headbutting him.  Other pokemon poured into the hole as well;  Pinsir gnashed him with their claws, Medicham punched his body and assaulted him with their powers.  From Sunflora to Magcargo, and Parasect to Milotic, nearly every pokemon brought there by Team Galactic had their shot at damaging Lucario, and Lucario read in their Auras that all were totally devoted to the commands of their ‘masters’, and a good many actually enjoyed tormenting their defenseless captive.

The commander’s voice cascaded down once more:  “Hey now, you lot, I don’t want him dead, he’s to be a gift to lord Cyrus!  Arceus knows the man needs a solidly powerful pokemon at his side...actually, don’t KO him either if you ain’t already done it, I wanna torment him some more.”

The mob of pokemon dragged Lucario, barely conscious, up from Dugtrio’s trap and deposited him at the feet of the corn-haired commander.  Squatting down so that his grey cargo pants crinkled, the malicious man smiled at his enemy.  Though Lucario was no longer under the influence of Arena Trap, he felt more paralyzed than ever.  His entire body ached with bruises, he could barely gather his Aura, and he felt that--despite his elongated lifespan and seemingly immortal state--he would surely perish if he took any more abuse.

“Grunts!” called out the commander, without taking his face away from the battered pokemon before him.  “Go get that vat!  And remember; you’d better damn well not get any on you, unless you want to see the inside of a poke ball.”

Within ten minutes, a cadre of panting Team Galactic personnel had returned, panting, carrying the vat filled with the translucent blue liquid slowly.  They deposited it before the commander and collapsed, huffing exasperatedly.

The commander strode over and took a view at it.  “What a treasure,” he whispered with ecstasy.   “Too bad there’s only this much and nothing else;”

Suddenly, he got an enlightened look on his face and turned to Lucario.  “Tell me,” he said walking over to Lucario once more, “is there any more o’ that stuff?  You said you were a monk once; did you fellows find it, or make it, or what?”

Lucario didn’t answer.  “Is this all there is?”  Still no answer.  The man grew angry.  “HEY!  You listen when I’m talking to you, you worthless, stupid pokemon!  Now tell me, right now!”  And the man aimed a kick at Lucario, who fell back cringing as stars suddenly danced across his vision.

“Hey boss,” offered one of the grunts tentatively, “I don’t know if hurting him is such a good idea, yeah?  It doesn’t look like he’s capable of taking any more punishment.”

“Hmmm...”  mused the commander.  “Fine.”  He leaned in close to Lucario once more.  “You’re in a position I rarely offer to lessers in my power: a position to bargain, y’see?  Now, whaddya want in exchange for the info?  Hurry it up, too,” he said, suddenly motioning skyward towards the increasingly grey clouds overhead, “it’s gonna rain soon, and I don’t plan on gettin’ too wet here on your account.”

Lucario gathered what little strength he had and asked, Free...the boy, free Ricky.

“The brat?” the commander asked with mild bewilderment. “Fine, let him up.”  And the Galactic grunts took off the net.  Ricky sat up immediately, stretching and mouthing ‘Thank you’ to his friend.

Lucario, however, wasn’t satisfied.  I mean, let him go....  The commander shook his head in a refusal.  “You mean you actually expect us to let just run off?  Just like that?” he spewed in furious amazement.  “Don’t be ridiculous, and especially, don’t push my buttons further.  I’m already pissed as it is.”

Lucario kept his silence.

The commanders face was a mask of retribution.  “Fine,” he said, suddenly getting a malicious smile on his face,  “you want us to give the kid an opportunity to run off?  Check this out!”  And he strode over to Ricky, grasped the boy’s ankle with both hands, and gave a violent twist.  There was an audible popping sound, and Ricky suddenly doubled over screaming.

“Move aside,” the commander angrily ordered his subordinates; they parted.  “Now,” said the commander, waving an arm to the expanse of land ahead of Team Galactic and the shuddering child, “I’ll give you one minute to run as far as you can, kid.  Make it to that sharp turn on the path, and you’re in the clear.  Ready?” he asked with mocking seriousness, taking out his watch and looking at it with faked attention.  “Go!...what, you’re not even gonna try?” he asked the weeping child with sarcastic pity, ignoring the fact that the feat would be near impossible even without the boy’s hurt leg.  “Fine, don’t say I never gave you a chance.  Get his pokemon.”

The grunts moved in and took the pokeballs from Ricky, and loosed his pokemon; immediately the Monferno, Staravia, Pichu, and Cranidos rushed in to nuzzle and comfort their trainer, while shooting fearful and angry glances at the Team Galactic grunts and their powerful pokemon gathered about.  With his pokemon surrounding him, Ricky stopped sobbing and calmed down a bit, though he still clutched his ankle desperately.  Ricky spent a few seconds shooting grateful glances at his pokemon, and then he said, “Please give me my poke balls.”

“Why?” guffawed the grunt holding the items.  “What do you think you’re going to do with them?"

But the commander interrupted.  “Naw,” he said with derision, running his hand through his yellow hair absentmindedly, “the kid knows we’re gonna get his pokemon sooner or later.  If he wants to spend his last moment together with his little pets with them all huddled up safely in those little poke balls, then let’m.”

The grunt grudgingly gave Ricky back his poke balls, but the boy didn’t recall his pokemon; he left them lying there on the ground in a pile.

“Now,” said the commander, turning once again to face Lucario, “I’m not so dumb as to delude myself into thinking that you’ll instantly cooperate after that little spectacle, but listen to this: if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I’ll hurt the kid more, alright?  Now, for the last time, is this all that there is?!

Lucario gathered his thoughts and spoke to the man’s Aura.  There are two aspects of the soul: light, and dark.  All living creatures share both of these, but in different amounts.  I once knew a man, who, like you, had a soul filled almost solely with shadows.  That man brought misery to countless numbers, but what little light he had eventually gave him such guilt over the horrors his darkness had caused, it resulted in his death.  Before it grows too late for you as well, I urge you to ponder the inner recesses of y--

“Oh, for sweet mercies’ sake!!!”  screamed the commander in a blind fury, interrupting Lucario.  “Now he’s PREACHING to me!  Well, FINE!”  And he reached inside his rugged Team Galactic jacket and pulled out a gun.

He pointed the firearm directly at Ricky.  The boy, who had previously been whispering hurriedly with his pokemon, grew silent and wide-eyed.  “Now,” began the commander in a ridiculously calm voice that contrasted hugely with the shouting that had just emanated from his mouth, “you’re ridiculously old, and pretty isolated from our glorious human civilization, so you may not know what this fantastic construct of humanity is, or what it does.  But, I think you can probably figure it out based on how I’m using it and the look on the kid’s face.  SO!!  No more games.  You tell me what I need to know, right now."

Lucario was at a loss.  Though he had spoken calmly, the Galactic commander was probably more angry than he had been the entire evening; if Lucario told him the truth (that the secret to the manufacture of the liquid was lost to the ages) he might just get so furious that he’d shoot Ricky anyways.  If he kept silent, though, Ricky’s safety was definitely in jeopardy...and, telling him that there was more would only prolong the inevitable: he’d eventually find out there wasn’t any, and what would he do to them when he found out Lucario was lying?

Despairing, Lucario looked past the commander and saw, to his surprise, that Ricky didn’t have an expression of fear on his face, but rather a look or resoluteness.  The boy leaned down and, without losing eye contact with his friend, whispered something to his pokemon.  Then, he gave a shaky grin.

Ricky, though Lucario with sudden anxiety, don’t do anything stupid, especially with that leg of yours the way it is.

“NOW!!!”  screamed the boy.  His Cranidos leapt up and brought it’s rock-hard skull...

...straight down onto the pile of poke balls in front of the boy, shattering them and freeing Ricky’s pokemon forever.

The entire assembly seemed to freeze in shock.  Lucario remembered telling Ricky that the boy could easily break his poke balls with a rock; Cranidos’ rock hard skull seemed to have done the job just fine.

As Team Galactic stood there stupidly (they had expected something from Lucario, not the child) his pokemon went into action.  Cranidos bowled through a crowd of astonished pokemon, while Pichu zapped a good number of the remaining pokemon.  Staravia flew straight for a clump of Team Galactic members and bowled them over.  All three pokemon made dashes for freedom at an insane speed .

Ricky’s Monferno leapt up on his former trainer’s head and catapulted into the air.  At the apogee of it’s leap, the monkey pokemon gathered an immense ball of flame, and shot it straight into the vat of transforming liquid.  The volatile material hissed and sizzled with a fervor, and the entire thing became steam and floated away into the sky.  The Monferno landed well outside the range of Team Galactic and also took off.

Regaining his composure, the commander yelled, “Get those pokemon!  NOW!!”  All available Team Galactic pokemon took off after the fleeing four.  The yellow-haired man dashed to the vat and desperately looked over the rim, but the blue material--every last translucent drop of it--was gone, evaporated to the sky.

Angrily, the commander ran over to Ricky and picked up the child by the scruff of his red jacket, and pointed the barrel of the gun straight at his forehead.  “You,” he said, nearly inarticulate with hatred, “you, you...no.”  Suddenly, he threw the gun to the side and brought his face so close to Ricky’s that there was less than an inch of space between them.  “No, I ain’t gonna shoot ya,” he muttered, putting fierce emphasis on every word.  “I’m going to take that talking pokemon and give it to the boss.  I’m going to catch your four pokemon and then I’m going to torture them so hard that it’ll make what I did to you and that damned Lucario look like a Sunday breakfast.  And, I’m gonna make you watch.  After I’ve caused your pokemon such immense, unimaginable pain, they’ll be so subservient they’ll do anything I ask, kid.  Anything.  Do y’know what I’m gonna do then, brat?  I’m going to make your own pokemon kill you.  Just something to look forward to!”

But Ricky just gave a heaving chuckle, and said, “Sorry, mister, but don’t get so creative yet.  You’ll be getting that blue stuff back in just a second!”  And the kid turned and looked towards the sky.

Inevitably, all present--The commander, the grunts, their pokemon, and Lucario--looked up there too.  And although the grunts and their pokemon didn’t seem to get it, Lucario caught on instantly, and the commander realized what was in store soon afterwards.  The steam from the vat had risen and mingled with the storm clouds above (which were much closer than most of Team Galactic were used to due to the high altitude).  The storm clouds gave a mighty crackle, and the commander’s mouth opened wide with shock (and fear) as he dropped Ricky onto the ground unceremoniously.  He turned and started making a dash, but it was too late: it had started to rain.

Every single raindrop was translucent blue.

It splashed over every grunt present, and the commander as well; the rain poured down in a tumult of retribution, unstoppable and inescapable.  It flowed down the faces of the grunts, who suddenly began making odd, piteous sounds as their faces seemed to blend in a charade of color.  Some shrunk, and some grew; some began being covered in fur, and others brushed their arms desperately in an attempt to shake off innumerable scales that crept up their skin.  They twisted and turned, and cried, and shrieked, and as the rain washed over Lucario, he saw through it that the commander seemed to have shrunk into a small insectoid form.  A Combee,  he realized.  And the thought stuck him:  Male Combee will never evolve into Vespiquen, and are among the most fundamentally weak pokemon in existence.  The thought filled him with a karmic satisfaction.  Suddenly, his thoughts drifted once more.  Ricky probably expected the commander to kill him the moment that Monferno’s fireball touched the liquid; I know I did.  He sacrificed his well-being to save fellow humans and give his pokemon a chance at freedom; he spoke the truth when he told me that he would give his life for his pokemon.  Lucario felt his emotions swell in a wave of gratitude as he succumbed to exhaustion and drifted off into a deep slumber...

---

As Lucario opened his weary eyes, he saw a small, fuzzy head leaning over him.  It was a Shinx with big, brown eyes.  As Lucario slowly got up, the Shinx took a couple of steps back, and Lucario saw that it’s back leg was limping.

You are Ricky, right?

The Shinx that was Ricky gave him a big smile and nodded it’s head; Ricky had not yet learned to communicate through Aura.

Lucario tentatively stood up; his body was sore, but had made significant improvements.  He was mending fine.  He looked down at Ricky, and said, Is Team Galactic...the former Team Galactic, I suppose, gone?

Another nod.

I would think at least a handful would attempt to cause us harm; did you chase them off?

In response, Ricky limped past Lucario.  When he turned around, he saw Ricky’s four former pokemon, as well as the pokemon Lucario had freed from Team Galactic a few days earlier, standing there attentively.

So, they saved us...  Suddenly, Lucario crouched down and stared at Ricky with tears welling up in his eyes.  That was a brave thing you did.  I’m sure you were positive that the man with the darkness in his soul would kill you straight off.  You were right; maybe there is a bond between these ‘trainers’ and their pokemon.  Perhaps, all these years, my dream is coming to fruition afterall...human and pokemon equality was right there in front of me for centuries, and I didn’t even notice.

Now, Ricky, I’m sure you’re delighted that you’re alive at all, but aren’t you depressed to be a pokemon in the least bit?

Ricky gave a shrill, mewling laugh, and shook his head vigourously.

I’m  proud of you.  Now then, said Lucario straightening up and addressing the other pokemon gathered, It looks like after all these years I have pupils once more.  I feel a duty to teach again; but, with some differences.  Before, I always spoke of human and pokemon equality as though it were a far-off dream; but now, my teachings will have to accommodate the fact that it legitimately exists.  I know not if it is a rarely found entity, or if it lurks within the heart of every human trainer and their pokemon...

But I swear by my Aura that it exists.


THE END