Chapter Four

"Cap'n! Cap'n!"

Macro's eyes fluttered open and he pushed himself up, letting the light blankets fall off him onto his knees. Anchor stood in his bedroom doorway, scratching absently behind his left ear.

"What is it?" the mawile asked as he rubbed a paw over his eyes.

"I'm sorry to wake you," Anchor said. "But Matrix says we're being followed."

If Macro wasn't awake before, he was now. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and slipped to the floor, grabbing his goggles off his night stand.

"What do you mean followed?" he scoffed as he marched from his room.

"Navigation system's picking up on another ship," said Anchor. "It's blinkin' away like no one's business. He said it's been like that since shortly after we left Pulse City."

"So it's another pirate?"

"Either that or someone lurking around, waiting to tag onto a familiar ship. I mean, the price on your head is hardly small, Cap'n."

Macro snorted and marched down the corridor towards the cockpit. Cookie's round face peered at them from the kitchen as he licked berry sauce off his ladle.

The cockpit was filled with beeping. Matrix shot them a glance from his spot at the navigation desk and watched Macro as he fell into his usual seat at the front.

"What's going on, Matrix?" he asked. "Anchor says we're being followed?"

"'Stalked' would be the better term," the ribombee explained. "I tried to lose them by taking a huge detour towards Cyan City, but they followed us the entire way. They even waited when I pulled over for a few minutes, drifting around absently. I thought they were going to land in Cyan, but after I set off, they tailed after us again."

He pointed at the flashing red dot on the screen. Just a dot. No description of the ship, no indication of its size. Nothing to say if it was government, rogue, or space pirate. It could be anyone. For any reason.

"Is it the same ship?" Macro asked. "Are you sure of that?"

"Who else could it be?" Matrix shrugged. "Why would two different ships follow us so closely?"

"Tag team?" Anchor suggested.

"That makes it the same pokemon, technically," said Matrix. "The fact is, we're being followed. And we're not even at Boolean City yet. What do you suggest we do?"

Macro stared at the navigation screen and pursed his lips together. They had means in place for times like this, but they used a lot of fuel and there was no saying they'd have enough to get back to Pulse City for a top up after their visit to the frozen floating city.

"We need a plan A and a plan B." He turned in his seat to face the window. "Speed up and try to lose it. Failing that, throw up the cloak."

"The cloak won't take us off their radar," Matrix explained.

"No, but they won't be able to see us," said Macro. "And there's no saying they even have a radar, especially with how closely they're following."

"Fair point." Matrix leant his head on his paw and sighed. "Let's just hope you're right."

"What about plan C?" Anchor asked as he pushed the accelerator stick forwards slowly.

"We don't use plan C unless they start to fire," said Macro. "It'll burn through fuel like fire through an abomasnow."

Anchor laughed and struck his paw on the dashboard.

Wildcard Gamma sped forwards, the lights from the passing cities streaking by beside them. Macro craned his neck around to see the navigation display. The red, blinking dot fell further and further back. But then... it sped up itself. Tailing them like a little hatchling.

He grit his teeth together and tutted.

"Plan B?" Anchor asked.

"No, not yet. It uses too much fuel," said Macro. "Just keep going."

The incessant beeping filled their ears as all eyes remained on either the lights streaming by or the navigation display. That blinking, red dot tailed after them at a steady pace, matching their speed perfectly. It didn't fall behind or draw closer. If Macro hadn't been so sure it was a deliberate attempt to follow them from Matrix's description, he'd have thought they'd accidentally towed another ship behind them.

"Hang on." Anchor grabbed the steering stick in his right paw and pulled it towards him. "I've got a plan."

The ship moved upwards, pushing Macro back into his seat and causing a little yelp from Matrix as he slipped from his chair.

"What are you doing?" Macro squeaked.

"Driving through a trash belt," explained the granbull. "See how much they like that."

"Well, I don't like it! You'll get my ship dirty!"

"I'll be careful. Anyway, it's only a bit of old paper and food waste."

"And sewage!" said Macro. "Don't forget sewage!"

As the ship leveled out, a stream of trash filled the world outside. Metal objects, fluttering sheets of old paper and indescribable sludge spread out like a hideous river. Macro's nose crinkled at the sheer thought of the smell and he considered grabbing his mask. No sooner had they seen it, it filled the window. Paper clung to the glass and blew off again, leaving behind sticky marks that pushed bile up into the mawile's throat.

Anchor grunted and cast him a sideways glance. "Sorry, Cap'n."

Macro threw a paw over his face and slumped back into his seat with a groan.

"I think it's working," said Matrix. "They're hesitating."

Macro spread his claws to see the blinking dot hovering further behind them. It arced to the side, edging towards the outer circumference of the radar.

"It looks like we're losing them," Matrix said.

"Anchor?" Macro turned to face the dog pokemon. "How big is this trash belt?"

"Miles," he replied.

"Then if they try to go around it, we'll have lost them." Macro grinned and rammed his fists onto the dashboard. "Great plan! You're a genius, Anchor!"

The granbull chuckled and shook his head. "All in a day's work, Cap'n."

He pushed the accelerator forwards again and the ship lurched ahead, gradually picking up speed until the trash belt was nothing but an unpleasant memory and an unsightly smear on the windscreen.

...

A vast, frozen landscape spread out before them, freezing Macro's feet to the bone. He hugged his scarf around himself and looked up at the tall, silvery buildings. Windmills turned slowly high above them, caught in the brisk breeze. Their lights lit up the darkening sky like silver and yellow stars.

"Any idea where this Cipher Frostwall is?" His breath misted in the air and he rubbed his paws over his arms.

Anchor punched a stubby finger over his wrist computer, grunting with frustration at its unresponsiveness.

"Not far," he finally answered. "Follow this road round and it's down a narrow alley just off it. We've not landed too far away, thankfully."

"Good. Because I'm turning into an icicle."

Anchor grunted again and crossed his arms over his chest as he fell into pace beside the mawile.

"I thought you resisted ice attacks," he said.

"I do," said Macro. "But I think as little of winter as a hibernating ursaring."

"Then I guess you won't be vacationing here any time soon then?"

Macro shuddered as the wind bit through his fur and he trudged on through the frozen wasteland. The granbull's feet crunched over the snow effortlessly, leaving deep, clawed paw prints beside the deep crevice Macro was leaving as he forced his way through. It melted against his fur, soaking through to his legs until they began to feel numb, but he resisted the urge to ask the much taller pokemon to carry him on his shoulder.

The road continued on past various shops, many of which were now closed. The only one open was a butchers displaying the poor, skinless bodies of various marine pokemon, each one sporting a hefty price tag. The smell turned Macro's stomach and he dug his claws into his arms as he forced himself past it.

A narrow alley forked off to their left, surrounded by piled up snow drifts that made the opening much narrower than it should have been. Anchor went first, slightly widening the gap as the mawile clambered after him. The building they sought stood at the end of it, squatting beside a wall topped with barbed wire. Jagged icicles hung from the wire and spread out onto the porch above the door like daggers. Or teeth. Cold droplets dripped from them and one landed down the back of Macro's neck. He stifled a squeak of shock and disgust and instead raised his paw to ring the bell beside the door.

"Who is it?" a female voice spoke clearly back at him.

"Hunter," he said. "We got what you asked for."

"Wait a moment."

Macro tapped his left claws on his right arm as he stared at the door. The sound of dripping behind him was leaving him on edge and his soaked fur was growing more and more uncomfortable despite the shelter the porch provided.

The door cracked open and a round face peered out at him. Blue and white with a beard of ice. A beartic.

"Hunter, eh?" The deep, masculine voice certainly didn't belong to the pokemon who'd answered his call.

Macro forced a grin and nodded to his large companion. "We've got the parts you requested."

"So it's you who took the request?" The beartic stifled a chuckle. "Didn't expect one of System's most wanted to brave Boolean City after Socket's crack-down on us. How much do we owe you?"

The beartic took the heavy sack from Anchor and opened it to peer inside. Macro didn't need to examine it again to double check the value. He'd done that enough times already. A grin split his face, and he leant against the porch door and immediately regretted it.

"Twenty thousand credits," he said.

The beartic looked up at him and his muzzle crinkled so much his lips pulled back from his teeth, sending a further chill through Macro's already frozen bones.

"Twenty thousand stinkin' credits for one sack of weapon parts?!" he roared.

Macro forced himself to stand up straight and he felt Anchor draw closer to him.

"Hey, I risked my hide to get those parts!" Macro retorted. "They ain't exactly easy to come by, or obtain. I think you'll find there's equal number of coils in there to fit each and every other piece to. You've got enough for..." The mawile threw his paws in the air and shrugged. "For like... twenty guns."

"A thousand credits a piece..." The beartic spat and it froze on the porch as soon as it touched it. "Lasers sold for six hundred a piece."

"Yeh, and now there's a ban." Macro shrugged again and he heard Anchor ram his fist into his open paw twice. "Call the rest a commission fee."

The beartic's eye warily went to the granbull and he placed the sack of weapon parts behind him out of sight. His paw went to his belt and Macro was relieved to find he wasn't pulling out a gun but a pocket computer. The huge mammal didn't even look at it as he tapped at the holographic screen. Instantly, the mawile's pouch beeped and he switched on his optical display.

Twenty thousand five hundred credits.

"You overpaid," he said flatly.

"You're honest." The beartic stepped back into the building and pushed the door closed enough that only his muzzle was poking out. "I wanted to check exactly who I was dealing with. Keep it."

The door slammed shut, whipping up cold snow and shaking two of the icicles free. They smashed onto the concrete beside Macro and tiny shards clung to his yellow fur.

"Why did you tell him he overpaid?" Anchor asked.

"In case he knew." Macro tapped him on the paw and steered him away from Cipher Frostwall. "I didn't want an army of pokemon his size chasing after me. I think we've been chased enough today, don't you?"

Anchor laughed heartily and folded his arms. "Sure. Shall I call Matrix, or do you wanna sight-see?"

Macro snorted and looked away from him, his eyes drifting to the now near-black sky. Wildcard Gamma's shadow appeared above them, even darker yet only just visible to the trained eye. The neon pink ladder cut through the darkness, cascading down towards them with its familiar electronic 'chinks' as each one fired into place. The thought of being back on board his beloved ship already made him feel warmer.

Something else in the sky caught his eye and he looked up to his left. Three more shadows. Smaller. Heading right for them. His violet eyes widened and he edged closer to Anchor.

"Something wrong?" Anchor followed his gaze and his body stiffened. "Oh ratattas. That's not who was stalking us, is it?"

The ladder appeared just above Macro's head and he reached up and grabbed onto the lowest rung. Anchor took hold of one seven rungs up and stood with his feet just above the mawile's head. It whipped them up towards the exit hatch and cold air roared past his ears. But his eyes never left those three ships. They deviated to the right of Wildcard Gamma, spreading out slightly. Pointed. Golden.

He vanished into the exit hatch and it hissed shut behind him, closing out the freezing air. He took in a few deep breaths and shook water from his fur and scarf.

"Did you get a good look at them?" Anchor asked.

"Yes." Macro opened the inner door and stepped onto the ship, moving against the blast of warm air that blew yet more droplets from his body. "They weren't pirates, that's for certain."

"Government."

Macro nodded and felt his fur bristle. He marched into the cockpit and cast Matrix a look that froze the tiny bee pokemon to his seat.

"Did those ships show up on your radar?" he asked.

The ribombee nodded and his eyes drifted back to the monitor. Three blinking dots, arcing away from Wildcard Gamma until they reached outside of the radar's range of detection.

Anchor scratched the base of his mowhawk as he watched the display. "They're not our stalker, that's for certain."

"No," said Macro. "They're not." He moved over to his seat and sat down heavily. "Follow them."

"What?!" Matrix and Anchor rounded on him.

"I said follow them. I want to know what three of Socket's ships are doing over Boolean City right after a weapon ban."

"Surveillance?" Anchor growled.

"Surveying what? They've already got the place secure. They're clearly not after us, either."

"I think we should count our blessings they didn't even see us," said Anchor. "If they did, they'd be whaling on us! You're wanted dead or alive, Macro!"

"The bounty's higher if I'm alive." Macro kicked his feet up onto the dashboard and strained out his scarf onto the floor. "They're up to something. Follow them."

Anchor let out a flustered breath and shook his head as he fell into the driver's seat. "All right. But I'm throwing up our cloak. We ain't getting caught by Socket's lot. I'm too young for that nonsense."

Matrix cleared his throat and looked over at them. "I think that's a good idea. Because our stalker's come back."

...

The yellow ships kept ahead of them, almost vanishing into the blackness. Wildcard Gamma kept them in sight and on their radar as they followed them across System Sky. Macro's eye drifted to and from the fuel meter as the ship held up its cloaking device, making them invisible to the naked eye. Whether or not Socket's ships had radars he had no idea. If they did, surely they'd know they were being followed? Nevertheless, they kept moving onward in a steady line right towards the desolate areas of System Sky.

"Where are these guys going?" Anchor asked as he kept one paw on the accelerator to keep the ship at a steady speed.

"Oh, I've no idea," Macro chuckled. "But I can't wait to find out."

Anchor fired him a sideways leer. "This is just some kind of game to you, ain't it?"

"It's not a game, but it's fun."

"Fun? I'd hardly call chasing a government fleet 'fun'! I was always under the impression space pirates and the government stayed out of each other's way unless the law called for it."

"We're always against the law."

"Not all of them, Macro. Stealing, breaking and entering, trespassing. Yeh, sure. But this might very well result in murder if they start firing at us and we fire back."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, they break that law themselves every day since they stripped the rights right off the backs of the water dwellers."

"So you're saying you'll fight back and kill these pokemon?"

"I'm not saying that at all. You're twisting my words, Anchor." Macro tucked his paws behind his head and kept his eyes on the golden tails ahead of them. "But if they pick a fight with us, I'll fight back. Not shoot to kill, just stun. But I won't be taken guilty if their ships can't take a hit and crash."

Anchor's brow furrowed and he leant forwards in his seat. "Hang on. Hang on a stinkin' second, what's that?"

Macro squinted into the distance and let out a stunned 'huh'.

Standing black against the horizon was a squat structure, not dissimilar to one of the floating cities only a lot smaller. Red and green flickered one after the other above it, indicating it was still on System's grid, whatever it was.

"How are we doing, Matrix?" he asked. "Does it say what this place is?"

Matrix 'hmm'd as he pawed at the holographic display.

"It's not on any maps," he said. "I should also tell you our stalker is still behind us, although a lot further back now."

So they had a radar then... Macro rubbed at the base of his horn and sighed. This could end up messy. Part of him wanted to turn back but the other part was incredibly curious and wanted to know not only what those ships were up to, but also what this place was.

"Bring her in to land," he said.

Anchor shot him a surprised glance but he pushed the steering stick forward, bringing the ship in for a land beside the huge, squat structure.

As they drew closer, the anomaly revealed itself to be a building. One huge building sat atop an island just like the other floating cities. But why would a lone building accommodate a floating island? Macro frowned and leant on the dashboard to get a better look. The golden ships vanished out of view into a tunnel below the structure. He briefly considered following them, but his ship would likely get stuck in that narrow opening.

"You might need to bring her over it and let us out that way," he said.

"Nah," said Anchor. "I'm looking for a safer, more secluded spot. I'm not getting us fired at."

"The cloak is up!"

"It won't be for much longer if we don't wanna end up stranded, Cap'n."

Macro looked down at the fuel meter. It was already down to half. The increased speed and use of the cloak had cost them greatly, leaving them with just more than enough to get back to Pulse City for a re-fill. That was if they didn't need to fight and keep using the ship's cloaking device.

"All right," he breathed.

He watched the building drift by as Wildcard Gamma drifted slowly along beside it, following the jagged circumference around the small, squat island. What windows the building had were dark. Not a single light on behind them, at least not that he could see. He also didn't see a single door. His heart sank at the possibility that the only entrance was the one the golden ships had taken.

All the way around the building was a short stretch of flat land that reflected the antenna's red and green light. Sheet metal. The building itself was concrete and iron, and the single most dull and boring building he'd ever seen. Nothing indicated what it was other than the presence of those ships. If he'd come across it by accident he'd have dismissed it as abandoned.

But he'd have still wanted a good look. An isolated building, as boring as it might be, still piqued his curiosity.

The ship followed the sharp bend and the huge windscreen fell upon a short dock poking out from the far end. And just at the end of that dock, a set of double doors leading into the building. Or out of it, depending on what they were primarily used for. He guessed out.

"Let me out there." Macro pointed at the docks.

Anchor didn't even nod. He dragged the large wishiwashi ship towards the docks at a slugma's pace. Macro folded his arms and rapped his claws against his arm as he watched the passing building. His ears twitched as Matrix began to hum, his boyish voice wavering as he fidgeted in his seat.

Finally, the nose of the wishiwashi reached the docks and Macro leapt from his seat. His still-damp fur had left a wet patch on the leather and it stuck to it, tugging a few looser tufts free. He beat himself down as he rushed out of the cockpit for the hatch.

"You ain't going alone, Cap'n." Anchor trudged after him, checking the straps on his heat tracker.

"I'd expect nothing less." Macro reached the hatch and pushed the button for the ladder.

The ground wasn't too far below him. He could easily have jumped. Three rungs and his feet touched cold metal. He scanned his eyes over the building - large but squat. A single story tall. The pokemon it contained must have been huge. He guessed tyranitar or rhydon. Maybe even aggron. All of them spelled bad news for him and his crew, regardless. They were all capable of dealing with fairy types, even if it was tyranitar's weakness. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and made for the double doors.

Locked.

He tutted and folded his arms as he looked the doors up and down. No visible alarm, but if it was a secret government building then it had to have one hidden somewhere, most likely the other side in the form of a bar running across it.

He reached into his pouch and pulled out his lock pick.

Anchor shifted behind him as he jiggled the slender metal rod around inside the lock. After a few twists and turns, the lock snapped open and he forced his claws between the two doors and tugged it open.

Silence.

He let out a sigh of relief. Part of him had been worried prising the lock open wouldn't be enough.

"I see cameras," said Anchor.

Macro looked up at him and followed his gaze to the roof of the building. They'd not been easy to spot at first glance, but hidden below the roof were black, concave sheets of glass tucked away in the shadows. Not quite hidden cameras, but hidden enough to say 'we're watching you'.

He swallowed drily and ducked into the building. Anchor's heavy footing was oddly quiet as he followed closely behind him. The building stood in complete darkness. Not a sound came from further ahead. The only sounds were their footsteps and breathing and the occasional sniff from Anchor as he scouted out whoever might be lurking ahead.

Macro stretched out a paw as the corridor grew darker and his claws brushed against wood. His eyes snapped to the object and he could just make out a large wooden box not much bigger than himself. He rummaged in his pouch and tugged out a tiny flashlight. The LED bulb submerged the box and a small patch of wall behind it in a soft, white light. Macro squinted at the wooden crate. It was like any other shipping crate except it lacked an address or destination. All it had written on it in red words were two short sentences. 'This way up' with an arrow pointing towards the ceiling, and 'confidential'. It was the second word that made Macro break into a smile and practically bounce with glee.

"All right, Anchor. Grab it. We're off."

The granbull didn't so much as question him. He grabbed the box in both paws and stomped after him back towards the dock. Macro cast a glance back over his shoulder as he reached the door, looking past Anchor into the shadows. Nothing.

It seemed too easy.

He stepped back out onto the docks and made for the neon ladder.

"All right, lets get that crate on board and -"

A jolt of electricity bounced before his toes, freezing him to the spot. He looked up to his left and grit his teeth together as he saw a heliolisk rushing towards him, his eyes completely covered by a strange, long eyepiece Macro recognised as an old-fashioned heat tracker. The device was cumbersome in that it sacrificed the use of both eyes for heat targeting while compromising the ability to spot non-heat-emitting threats.

Such as an iron beam.

Macro leapt back towards the doors and tore the alarm bar free, bringing it down in an arc towards the heliolisk. The large lizard spread out his frill and hissed, sending another jolt of electricity at both Macro and Anchor. Macro dodged and brought the bar up in an arc towards the reptile's chin while Anchor was engulfed in the electricity, dropping the crate to the floor with an almighty clatter.

The bar struck home, sending the heliolisk arcing backwards into the wall of the building. Macro span towards Anchor and barked commands at him until he pulled himself together and grabbed the now cracked crate. He pushed the granbull towards the hatch and glanced back down the docks. More pokemon had emerged now, not a single aggron or tyranitar amongst them. Most of them were electric types. A raichu, ampharos and electivire rushed towards them amongst a small pack of stoutland.

A low growl rose from Macro's throat and he followed Anchor into the hatch, giving the granbull a small shove so the door could close behind them. The ship shook as electricity engulfed it, knocking it sideways and causing both pokemon to slide back into the corridor.

"Matrix! Move it!" Macro screeched as he rushed back to his seat. "Pulse City!"

The ribombee keyed in the co-ordinates while Anchor, now relieved of the crate in the middle of the cockpit floor, shook out his stiff limbs before taking his seat. He wobbled as the ship took another hit and the lights flickered ominously. Something had clearly been fried and Macro hoped deeply it wasn't too crucial.

The granbull steered the ship back up into the air, arcing back with such ferocity that it shoved them back into their seats and sent Matrix sprawling against the wall. Macro made a mental note to teach the ribombee the proper use of a seatbelt. The crate rushed out of the cockpit, followed by a shrill shriek from the kitchen.

"I don't like this, Cap'n!" Anchor's voice came out hoarse.

The mawile was too busy focusing on what was in front of them to fully realise that he was talking about the very thing he was seeing. Not three, but seven of those gold ships soared around the corner, firing red lasers at Wildcard Gamma.

"Engage Schooling and fire back!" he commanded.

Anchor obeyed, his nimble paws flying over the dashboard as he pressed at various buttons. The reassuring sound of the tiny wishiwashi escape pods popping out from their hold caused a small smile to play at Macro's lips. They didn't just serve as an emergency escape. He heard them clanking into place, creating a large ring around the main ship, then a deep whir as the tiny fish began to spin. A torrent of blue bubble-like bullets flew at the golden ships and exploded on impact, blowing back the front-most ships and sending them off balance.

It gave them enough time to turn Wildcard Gamma and begin to retreat. There was no need to keep fighting.

Another red laser clipped the ship's tail and Macro slammed his paws into the dashboard.

"We need to engage hyperdrive!" he said. "Otherwise they're gonna blow the ship's fins and tail off!"

"That's what you're worried about?!" Anchor roared.

The Schooling ships fired another jet of bubbles, striking the assailing ships and knocking one of them out of the sky to land atop the squat building. The electric pokemon below were focusing all their efforts on shocking Wildcard Gamma, aiming for the bubble-firing weapons.

Anchor gripped at the accelerator with such ferocity his knuckles turned white. His muzzle creased with frustration as he set the ship to fire once more.

"Why aren't we in hyperdrive?!" Macro shrieked.

"Because we're too close to their ships!" Anchor barked back. "The shock will end up knocking them out of the sky and there's nothing but ocean below us! Do you want your bounty to go up? 'Cos it will at this rate!"

Macro clawed at his own face and let out a frustrated growl. If they wanted to get away from this, he had to take things into his own paws. He leant across the dashboard and grabbed hold of the accelerator.

"Hey!" Anchor brought his spare fist down on top of Macro's horn. "You're gonna get us all killed!"

"I'm gonna get us out of here!" he roared back. "And don't strike me! It's mutiny!"

"Mutiny my tail!"

"Stop fighting!" Matrix screamed. "We've got bigger things to worry about! That stalker of ours is back!"

Macro twisted his head in Anchor's arms to look over at the ribombee. He released his grip on the granbull's left ear as he stared at the red dot behind them... slowly moving to their right. A shrill hissing sound permeated the cockpit and all eyes went to the windshield as a torpedo shaped like a grinning carvannah dived into the group of golden ships, striking the central one and exploding in a violent shock wave. Wildcard Gamma was blown backwards, away from the fleet and past the assisting ship. All they saw was a flat, rudder-like tail as the small blue ship arced upwards and zipped out of sight above their heads.

Macro shook his head sharply and climbed back into his seat.

"Hyperdrive!" he commanded. "Quick!"

Anchor obliged, turning Wildcard Gamma away from the building and thrusting the accelerator forwards with all his weight. The ship lurched, plunging the cockpit into a deafening silence, and Macro found himself forced back into his seat with such intensity he through the fabric might swallow him.