Batgirl glances at Frogadier. The bruise on its shoulder, a vivid purple, reminds her of her mistake. She needs to fix this. Alone.
"Alright, Frogadier," she whispers, a determined edge in her voice. "Time to go hunting."
She moves deeper into the dense foliage, the sounds of the preserve muffling her footsteps. Her cowl's interface projects a tactical overlay, marking the poachers' outpost. She needs to disable their drone, their extraction method, before it even gets off the ground.
If I take out the drone, they're stuck. No easy escape.
The terrain grows steeper. Thorn bushes claw at her suit, but she ignores them, her eyes fixed on the outpost. She can hear distant, gruff voices, the clatter of equipment. They're getting ready.
Frogadier leaps ahead, its webbed feet silent on the forest floor. It pauses, then points a small finger toward a gap in the trees.
Smart frog.
Through the gap, she sees it—a sleek, black drone, larger than she expected, perched on a portable launchpad. Two poachers stand near it, adjusting its rotors. Another three are loading cages, their backs to her. She counts five, maybe six.
Outnumbered, but I've got surprise.
Her plan is simple: disable the drone, then take out the poachers. It's risky, but the alternative—letting them escape with captured Pokémon—is unacceptable.
"Stay here, Frogadier," she mouths, pressing herself against a moss-covered boulder. "Wait for my signal."
Frogadier hesitates, a flicker of concern in its large eyes, but nods. It melts back into the shadows.
Batgirl pulls a batarang from her utility belt. It's a specialized EMP model, designed to fry electronics without causing a major explosion. She aims, her muscles tensing. The drone is her first target. One quick, precise throw.
She launches the batarang. It spins through the air, a dark blur against the pre-dawn sky.
The EMP batarang arcs, swift and silent, towards the drone. It connects with a sharp CRACK! The drone sputters, sparks flying, then crashes to the ground, a mangled mess of circuits and plastic.
"Drone down!" Batgirl calls out, leaping from her hiding spot.
The poachers scramble, their shouts echoing across the clearing. One of them, a bulky guy with a scarred face, turns. A small, serpent-etched cuff link glints on his sleeve. That's the leader.
He doesn't reach for a gun. Instead, he pulls a small, black device from his belt. A low hum fills the air, growing louder, vibrating through the ground, through Batgirl's bones. It's a precise, disorienting frequency. The world blurs. Her head throbs. She stumbles, her vision swimming, and slams against a massive boulder. Her comms crackle with static, then die. Her utility belt feels impossibly heavy, out of reach.
Frogadier, quick as thought, springs from the shadows. It dodges a stun baton, a flash of blue against the encroaching dusk. Another poacher swings. Frogadier twists, a water gun splashing harmlessly against the attacker's arm. But there are too many. Three more close in, batons a blur. Frogadier tries to weave through them, but a baton connects, then another. It cries out, a small, pained sound, and collapses.
Batgirl struggles, pinned by the vibrations, a raw scream caught in her throat. She sees Frogadier fall, defenseless. Her meticulous planning, her advanced tech, her quick reflexes—all useless. She is completely immobilized.
Batgirl could only watch, her body screaming against the invisible force. No, no, no! Frogadier!
Suddenly, the Pokémon egg she carried in her utility belt, the one she won at the tournament, began to glow. A soft, warm light pulsed, growing brighter with each beat. Cracks spread across its surface, spiderwebbing across the shell.
Are you serious right now? Not the best timing, little guy!
The egg wobbled, then split open completely. A small, wide-eyed creature tumbled out, directly into the middle of the vibrating, disorienting battlefield. It was a Mudkip, blue and innocent, looking utterly bewildered. It landed with a soft thud right between the poachers and the fallen Frogadier.
Well, talk about a surprise entrance! This little guy, completely oblivious to the high-stakes drama unfolding around him, was a tiny, light blue creature with a wide, innocent mouth, two small black eyes, and a big, floppy fin on its head. It had a little light blue underside and a tail fin that looked like it could really move some water. This was a Mudkip, fresh out of the egg, and clearly not ready for its grand debut into the world of heroics and villainy.
It blinked. Once. Twice.
The world was a dizzying blur of vibrating air, and there was Batgirl, struggling against an invisible wall, her face tight with effort. Then it spotted Frogadier, lying still. That seemed… bad. Its tiny Mudkip brain didn't quite process "sonic device" or "paralyzing frequency," but it sure got "Batgirl needs help!" and "That thing is hurting my friend!"
Instinct took over.
A small, frantic jet of water shot from its mouth. Not a powerful blast, just a desperate squirt, hitting the sonic device dead on. The little machine, already straining to maintain its frequency, sputtered. A few sparks flew. Then, with a pathetic pop, it died.
The disorienting vibration vanished. Batgirl gasped, dropping to her knees, free but disoriented. She shook her head, trying to clear the haze. She looked up, ready to rejoin the fight, ready to move. But her eyes landed on the newly hatched Mudkip, standing bravely, if a little wobbly, between her and the poachers. The little Pokémon had just saved her. And it had no idea what it had done.
Batgirl shakes her head, blinking away the lingering disorientation. The Mudkip, barely bigger than her hand, looks up at her with innocent, wide eyes.
"Thanks, little guy," Batgirl says, a genuine smile breaking through her tactical facade. "You really saved my bacon."
Mudkip responds with a happy chirp, wiggling its tail fin. It's proud of itself. So it should be. It took down the sonic device like a pro.
***
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Advance chapters in P@T0n Najicablitz.