Chapter Text
The clouds outside the window create a blue-tinted haze when looking out, drifting lazily as the plane speeds through them. They would soon leave the inside of this cloud, but for now, there’s not really much point to looking out the window.
Calem sighs as he pulls the shutter down. He’d been looking forward to having the window seat for once; when traveling as a child with his parents to wherever their next battling spree took them, he’d always been forced to sit in the middle, considering he was the smallest and also a kid. It’s nice to not be squeezed between two other bodies, though he has to admit the view is sometimes a little disappointing. At least it isn’t a terribly long flight.
He glances to his left as the unfortunate woman in his row’s middle seat stands up, shimmying past to the aisle with a few muttered “excuse me”’s. With the space freed up and the flight reaching its last half hour, Calem figures he should make sure all his stuff is in order.
Pulling his backpack onto his lap and angling himself slightly away from the man in the aisle seat, Calem goes through the well-organized pouches of the bag.
In the main large pouch was a padded case for his six pokéballs, stored carefully and lovingly. Upon boarding the plane initially, he saw some smaller, more harmless pokémon in the arms or on the laps of other passengers. Calem would’ve loved to have at least one of his team members out, but he doubts his pokémon would have been well-received by the plane’s crew. Maybe Midnight would have been alright, but he would probably have been overwhelmed anyway with all the people around. He’d rather not risk it, anyways.
A hint of purple catches Calem’s eye in the backpack. Reaching in, he grabs a small ziplock bag with a Lumiose Galette inside. He… didn’t put that in there. He’d been so busy preparing the necessities that he wouldn’t have even thought of that. Then he sees the purple sticky note stuck to the bag.
The handwriting on the note is sloppy, but considering how much worse it used to be, Calem can read it just fine. ”Have fun on your trip! A little taste of home for when you need it. Love, Emma and Mimi!” it says, hearts and smiley faces doodled on.
Calem smiles fondly, setting the dessert and note back into the backpack. Emma really has gotten better at writing; he can recall when she could barely spell her own name or read a street sign. Looker may not have been there long, but he certainly taught her well. He hopes she’ll be okay with him gone for an indeterminate amount of time, but he’s sure Emma won’t have any issue. Mimi would keep her out of trouble, anyways.
He spins around the backpack, glancing around briefly before peeking into a rather unnoticeable compartment in the bag. They’d been a pain to get past security with, but his customized Interpol badge—marking him as Agent 721, codename “Chevalier”—and fake ID were safely in there. Call him paranoid, but Calem wanted to double check everything was in order. After all, when he emerged from the airport in Wyndon, he wouldn’t be Kalosian trainer Calem anymore, he would be Xavier, a Galar native with oft-traveling parents. At least that part’s familiar.
Calem is grateful that, at the very least, Xavier didn’t need a complex story. The persona just needed to be of working age so Calem can be hired by Macro Cosmos and make sure they’re on the straight and narrow. He’s still a bit annoyed that Interpol gave him this task at all; he specializes in humanitarian issues—how could he not, after all he saw with Team Flare?—while this whole stint in Galar is ensuring cleanup after a destructive legendary pokémon goes smoothly enough, whose remnants cause most harm to pokémon. The perpetrator was even in custody already, so Calem really doesn’t know why he’s going.
Well, Serena would say “it's a good experience” or something cheery like that, but she’s the one who denied Looker’s offer and passed it off to him, so Calem is the one working with Interpol, not her. She’s probably busy with champion duties.
He zips up his backpack and sets it back down at his feet, leaning back in his seat. It’ll be his first mission in a foreign region and he can’t go screwing it up right as he starts. Calem trusts in his own abilities and his pokémon, but he knows that life will often find a way to throw a spanner in the clockworks without prompting. He’ll need to constantly be on guard and at his best, using every ounce of his training.
The seatbelt light on the overhead controls flashes on and the captain tells the passengers it’s time to begin landing. Calem’s belt clicks shut as he re-opens the window and looks out at the vast blue sky. He doesn’t want to miss his first glimpse of Galar as they descend.
The telltale pressure rises in his ears as he watches the clouds rise and the plane fall in turn, a vast green landscape becoming visible bit by bit. Calem has heard about Galar’s Wild Areas, vast swaths of undisturbed nature where pokémon largely dwell, but he’s impressed by their sheer size. He won’t much be visiting there, though, and his actual destination also comes into view from above.
Wyndon is enormous, just barely smaller than Lumiose City and just as busy. The giant, rose-shaped pink stadium dwarfs most gyms in Kalos, safe for maybe the electric gym in Prism Tower, which too finds its equal in Wyndon: Rose Tower, the headquarters of Macro Cosmos, and where he would soon be going. The grand hotel Rose of the Rondelands takes up a whole portion of the city itself, even Calem impressed by its sheer size and elegant architecture. A ferris wheel spins idly nearby and countless other shops dot the city’s streets, ant-sized masses of people easily moving throughout the city. Calem can definitely see why many directly compare Wyndon and Lumiose, even from this bird’s-eye view. He’s sure the similarities will only grow when on the ground.
Calem can’t tell if he’s excited for or dreading that fact.
—————
Calem takes a breath of the first fresh air in hours as he finally escapes the hell that is a busy international airport, dragging his suitcases behind him, pokéballs once again in their place on his belt.
The air feels almost electric as he steps outside, energized with a strange effect that reminds him of the atmosphere in Geosenge Town right after the Ultimate Weapon was fired. Calem remembers being told about this in his mission briefing; the legendary Eternatus passively emitted huge amounts of power in the form of Galar Particles, and that energy can still be felt near its reawakening. It’s a touch disconcerting nonetheless, even if it’s theoretically harmless.
Calem wonders if the Galarians would have noticed, or if they were too surrounded by the energy all their lives to have realized the difference. The pokémon probably would notice, at least. He’ll have to warn his team about that.
Ducking into the edge of an alleyway, Calem pulls out the Rotom Phone that Interpol had given him for this assignment, a simple one with a dark blue case. Apparently literally everyone in Galar has one, and he would look out of place without one. A quick glance to the people on the street has him thinking they were right, even if he’s not happy about it. If Lysandre could watch through Holo Casters, who knows who could be watching through this device? He’s not sure if it’ll help, but he quickly makes sure to turn off all data-sharing settings available on the phone. Just in case.
Either way, he’s stuck with it, at least for now, so he might as well make it useful. Calem pulls up the map of Wyndon stored on the phone and inspects it. The airport is about halfway between the Rose of the Rondelands Hotel and one of the main living districts of the city. Very walkable, no need for one of those Flying Taxis Galar apparently has. If he needs to fly, he’ll use his own pokémon partner, thanks very much. He trusts Cirrus far more than the mass-employed regional bird.
Calem’s been around the Lumiose block more than once or twice, so he’s plenty familiar with navigating these big cities. Wyndon seems far less organized despite its larger size than Lumiose, though, much to his chagrin, making reading the map more difficult than it should be. Even so, he mentally creates an efficient route to follow and begins to walk, disappearing into the familiar-unfamiliar crowds.
—————
The apartment Interpol had rented out for him is on the third floor and rather typical, though luckily already fully furnished. It’s more expensive than Lumiose apartments on average, but it’s also larger—though still small—and Calem isn’t the one paying, so he can’t complain about that part. He idly wonders where Looker is staying while he’s off working with Anabel in Alola.
A paper packet on the kitchen table seems to be a standard “welcome” with some notes on where things are and some basic rules. Thankfully, Calem finds that pokémon are perfectly allowed out and about in the apartment, so long as they don’t make too much of a mess or become a noise complaint. He highly doubts that would be a problem for most of his team.
He skims the rest of the packet, mentally noting a couple things before setting it back on the table and heading to the most open area in the apartment, which happens to be the rather bare-bones living room. With a grin, Calem lifts his pokéballs and releases his team.
First to emerge is Spume, Calem’s beloved starter, a greninja with the exceptional speed and stealth characteristic of its ninja-like species. He looks around the place for a moment before opting to lean against the wall while his teammates come out.
Then is Midnight, a sensitive but skilled meowstic that grew fond of Emma’s espurr almost immediately. He doesn’t need to look around, instead psychically sensing the facets of the apartment as he mews happily beside Calem.
Falx comes out on guard, the absol’s fur slightly raised and expression skeptical before she relaxes, determining no threat present. She brushes past Calem on her way to the couch, upon which she sprawls out casually.
Ion is hardly visible before he’s running around to get out his excess energy, leaving the air filled with static before the jolteon comes to a stop on top of the couch, seemingly content and looking very pleased with himself, even if Falx looks slightly annoyed.
Cirrus coos happily as she’s released from her pokéball, puffing up and drifting around the room. The altaria deems it satisfactory and proceeds to perch on Calem’s head, a fluffy, cloudy mass. He’s glad he’s still wearing his hat so his hair is spared from her deceptively sharp talons.
Finally, Verdure emerges, easily the largest of Calem’s team, the venusaur taking up much of the remaining vacant space. He tucks in his flower a bit to compensate for his size relative to the insufficiently-sized room, looking at Calem expectantly.
Calem himself is pleased that his team is already making themselves at home.
“Good to see you all again,” he greets his pokémon partners warmly, suddenly aware of the slight merging of his consonants and sliding of his vowels compared to the lilting way in which Galarians speak, crisp and emphasized. He really will have to adjust his accent if he doesn’t want to be immediately found out.
The assorted pokémon respond just as eagerly, each with their own voice and tone that Calem has learned the ways of during their journey together. Pokémon don’t speak the way humans do, but their intent can be read and heard with practice and closeness.
“This is where we’ll be staying for now,” Calem explains the obvious, gesturing around. “I know none of you will make problems—“ his gaze rests on Ion for a long moment and the jolteon huffs, stamping the couchtop with his paws for a moment. “—but do be careful anyways. We are undercover.” he reminds, not unkindly.
Calem glances at the ticking clock on the wall. It’s late afternoon by now, since the day didn’t have an exceptionally early start. “Alright, how about this. We all work together to unpack, then I’ll get us some dinner. Deal?” He offers his pokémon, though he knows they’ll agree anyway. They confirm it with a chorus of chirps and yaps and the occasional nod from the quieter of his team.
“Great. Let’s get to work, then.”
—————
Unsurprisingly, unpacking takes far less time with seven individuals working together instead of one human alone. Calem makes a satisfied hum as he zips up the now-empty suitcases, storing them in the closet. Him and his pokémon have put away and organized his assorted belongings and set up spaces for everyone so they don’t have to deal with it right before bed. It’ll still be a bit crowded, but each member of the team will have their own area and sleeping spot.
Knowing what’s coming, Calem also makes a few preparations. He changes into a Galarian-style outfit, more casual than his typical wear and lacking a Kalosian hat, and adjusts his wallet, replacing the ID with his fake one and ensuring he has his Interpol badge on him. Now he’s actually ready to go out.
“Good work, everyone,” Calem praises as they all once again gather in the main room, taking their earlier positions. Falx seems irritated that Ion opted to be right above her on the couch again, but in the way siblings would be, lacking actual annoyance. Calem just smiles at them knowingly.
“Well, with that done, I did promise dinner. What do we want?” he asks the group. The pokémon scramble together and practically huddle up, chittering about a decision and periodically glancing back at Calem, who seems unbothered. They do this a lot.
Eventually, the team comes to a decision, and Spume approaches Calem as the mouthpiece. Since they’re all different kinds of pokémon with different tastes, they decided that they just want to try something local for their first meal in this new region.
Calem hums in acknowledgement, nodding. “I can do that,” he says, glancing between them. “But I don’t think I can take you all out to go do that. So… Midnight, come with me?” he asks the meowstic. The espurr line wouldn’t be too out of place, since they’re native to Galar, and Calem has no worries about Midnight running off or causing any disturbances. Midnight himself seems a slight but surprised, but nods, daintily padding over and hopping onto Calem’s shoulder.
“Perfect,” he mutters, looking back to the other pokémon. “The rest of you—be good, we shouldn’t be gone long. Oh, and don’t worry about the energy in the air, it’s apparently normal,” Calem instructs as he walks out the door, locking it behind him.
Now… somewhere local, huh? He researched a lot about Galar, but admittedly the cuisine wasn’t one of the things he deemed necessary. However, Calem did hear about Galar’s famous curry beforehand, edible by both humans and pokémon, which seems like a good choice. Midnight seems to agree, once he asks him.
“Well, then let’s get some curry,” Calem decides, once again pulling out the map on his provided Rotom Phone. He scrolls through some options as he and Midnight leave the apartment building, finding a solid option by the time he would need to pick one, a local, casual place catered to both humans and pokémon with to-go options available and a four-and-a-half star rating. Midnight seems satisfied as well, so they go with that.
The ten-minute walk is easy, no one batting an eye at Calem or his meowstic among the crowds. A small bell chimes as he pushes open the door to the quaint establishment, a few pairs of people and pokémon or families dotted around the tables.
He glances up to the menu, suddenly intimidated by the unexpectedly large variety. He hadn’t checked it before, not realizing there were so many options with curry. You’re an Interpol agent, Calem, he thinks as he steps out of line to be polite, staring at the menu. but you’re intimidated by a curry menu? How are you going to do this mission? Midnight seems to have picked up on his sudden nerves, softly mewing comforts.
“Havin’ trouble deciding, are ya? This place’s great, but first-timers often can’t choose,” a feminine voice snaps Calem out of his thoughts and he turns towards the source, rubbing the back of his neck. The girl looks maybe a year or two younger than him, with short brown hair and a gray sweater over a pink dress. She seems familiar somehow.
“Yes,” Calem makes a conscious effort to shift his accent closer to the Galarian style of speech, or at least a more neutral voice compared to his Kalosian accent. “I’ve never been here before. Any recommendations?”
“‘Course!” The girl proceeds to go on a tangent about the intricacies of the curries served at this place, talking about what different sorts of pokémon like what and what flavors they all are. Calem was absolutely not expecting that, but he makes an effort to listen closely anyway. He did ask for it.
She finally wraps up her explanation, clasping her hands behind her back. Calem gives a grateful nod. “Thanks so much, that was super helpful.”
“Don’t mention it!” The girl insists, waving as she leaves. “See ya ‘round!”
Calem highly doubts he’ll ever see her again, but he gives a polite wave in return. Now that he’s ready to order, he returns to the line, now easily able to ask for what he thinks he and his team would each like best.
He gets his food in two large to-go bags and leaves, heading back to the apartment.
(It is only after a news notification pops up on his Rotom Phone that Calem realizes he just got curry recommendations from Gloria, the champion of Galar. He nearly drops his bags after that—Midnight has to make a swift psychic save.)
—————
Gloria had made great recommendations. Calem and his pokémon had devoured the curry and now sit satisfied together, the room darkening as the sun sets.
As they clean up and begin to get ready to wind down for bed, Calem is struck with immense gratitude for his team. He isn’t sure what this mission in Galar will entail, but at the very least, his partners will be there to face it beside him.
But tomorrow is the first actual day of the mission. He’ll have to fully accept the identity of Xavier and navigate Macro Cosmos as any worker would while completing his investigative tasks on the side.
He exhales in a sigh, laying in the bed that isn’t his own, staring at the ceiling, Midnight at the foot of the bed. The meowstic’s presence is comforting.
Calem knows this’ll be a much bigger challenge compared to just helping clean up the remnants of Team Flare in his home region with other agents. He definitely knows that.
But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t succeed.
Eventually, Calem drifts off to sleep, waking up to a brand new day.