Rescue Corps Chapter 1 - The Survivors

By Jinggo78 Jinggo78@gmail.com

Fenton the Flareon squinted and concentrated until the multiple apparitions of the time-display became one. The momentary ability to focus brought back the pain he had forgotten. The bloody gash above his left knee defined a new kind of pain for him. He scarcely recalled how he got to his current position on the floor of the cockpit. In his peripheral vision he could see the trail of blood that his tail had painted when he crawled in. His fur was red but that was normal, the blood was red too and that made it hard to see how much blood there was. He could only guess it was a lot. When he thought about moving again the promise of pain convinced him not to.

A familiar voice from the communication panel crackled through. "Fenton? Answer me! Where are you?"

At first he wasn't sure if he had the strength to speak but did it anyway. "I can't move! I'm going to die here!"

"Don't panic I'm going to help you. Can you see your altimeter?"

"I can't see a damned thing!" He groaned. He found some of his strength and stood up with the help of the co-pilot seat as a support. His head spun and then he shouted in disgust as he involuntarily emptied his bladder. Is this what they meant by losing control? At least the console wasn't on fire this time.

"Calm down and listen to me. What does your altimeter say?"

He stumbled into the pilot seat. It rocked as a few bolts popped loose and rolled across the floor. He winced as his wound opened wider. New blood ran down his leg. Fenton shook his head in a furious attempt to stay conscious. He located the altimeter.

"9000... Wait.. it's rising...."

"I didn't copy. Is that altimeter reading over 9000?" The voice sounded unconvinced. Maybe he read it wrong. Could it be 8000? Even that had to be wrong. He couldn't be crashing upwards. With another groan from the pain Fenton focused his eyes.

"Affirmed. It's OVER 9000!"

"That's impossible. Your altimeter must be broken."

Fenton took the helm in hand. It wobbled as if to mock his feeble state of affairs. The clouds flew by like animated pastel paintings. At least they were clouds and not clods of dirt.

The helm rattled. Sparks sprayed Fenton's face as smoke rose from the console.

"Gods below! What am I doing wrong?" He strangled the helm enough for it to break away from the floor. His eyes filled with tears."FUCK!"

"Didn't copy. Repeat"

He gripped the com mic and wished he could crush it. "This is impossible! I don't know what to do!" The windows in the cockpit shattered. Fenton clenched his teeth as the air pressure popped his ears. He gasped for breath.

The time display dropped to zero.

...

The noise of the aircraft came to a halt along with the movement. His leg pain ceased instantly. The air returned to normal. He could no longer smell that alarming stench of fuel, oil and blood. Fenton opened his eyes. Twelve hovering orbs of light flew around him. They spun slower and halted in midair before settling in to the half-sphere depressions in the bright white cylindrical wall. Fenton wiped his tears away. All that hard work for nothing.

The door to the simulation chamber opened.

"When you are ready please come to conference room A for debriefing." A technician said. He sighed and unstrapped himself from the simulation rig.

Fenton followed the technician to the briefing room. He thought about the strategy that should have been perfect. All those sleepless nights trying to figure it out meant nothing now. He could play it again in his mind but the outcome wouldn't match the reality.

Several familiar faces greeted him with smiles. He forced his own smile but the knot of nerves in his gut defeated it. He didn't want to sit through the debriefing. He sat anyway. Maybe he'd be able to see his brothers again. Back home in Littlemon Canyon.

"Aren't you thrilled?" Someone said.

"This was probably my last time." Fenton said. The Suicune that addressed him looked puzzled by his response. She was unable to answer. Their instructor, a square shouldered Arcanine, stood in front of the small group of cadets.

"I am happy to congratulate the survivors of this graduating class: Talban Coursgood, Overton Nebleim, Okra Helmsright, Tawdry Wellgotten, and with highest marks for surviving the longest in our special un-winnable scenario, Fenton Flarion"

The cadets and faculty began to applaud. Fenton's jaw dropped ajar as he stared at the many smiles. The crowd of blurry comrades came into focus when he blinked the tears away.

"So I passed this time?" Fenton choked back more tears.

"Yes you did. There's a dangerous universe out there but your training here has prepared you for the worst." The instructor said.

Fenton smiled and his hand pressed against his chest. He felt a firm paw upon his back. Calmness washed over him when he saw who it was.

"I knew you could do it. You're a true survivor." The same familiar voice from the simulation belonged to the handsome Houndoom now at his side.

"Talban... I couldn't have done it without you." Fenton said.

"Hey even I crashed that jet. Give yourself credit for an amazing performance. Are those tears?" Talban wiped a tear from Fenton's cheek.

"I know but I can't help it. I really thought I failed." Fenton looked down.

"You know you're better than that. What have I told you about staying positive?" Talban ruffled Fenton's red and orange hair and scritched behind his ears. "We're both corpsmon now. And the best part is we've been assigned to the same team under one of their best leaders."

Fenton threw his arms around Talban and hugged him. "This is the best day of my life! Six years, Tal! We've made it!"

"It's only the beginning, my flare."