Lieutenant H. G. Cross was impatient.

Talk had been going around about this raid and it being very soon, but he needed to get prepared.

His Pokemon were getting ready. He had to make sure his coat and his uniform were in good condition so he could put on a show. So many things!

As he was polishing his helmet a lower ranking officer enters the room.

Officer: Lieutenant, we need to-

H. G. Cross: I know, I know, but for the millionth time you can't rush perfection and I'm the closest you'll get!

Officer: ...Sure thing.

He quietly leaves while H. G. Cross sighs.

H. G. Cross: The nerve of these people. Can't they see I have a routine?

He finally finishes his preparations and leaves to assemble for the raid.

[spoiler]Thanks to Morph and Umbra for helping spag this!

Veilstone Interpol HQ, IDPD Armoury

For most IDPD field agents, their designated pre-raid rendezvous point is here. Both officers from the ITPD and IDPD have gathered here rather hastily and are gearing up to assault PEFE HQ, grabbing energy blasters and pulling on their helmets. Amidst the chaos, an ITPD Lieutenant cracks his knuckles and grins behind his visor.

H. G. Cross: Alright, showtime~

He steps up and yells out, his voice amplified to carry across the entire armoury.

H. G. Cross: Listen up, everyone! I want this raid done by the book! That means you stick with your designated fireteam and follow your orders, people! Corporals, make sure your Shunters are set to the correct coordinates! Get one of the ISPD boys to look it over if you aren't sure. The Director is counting on us today, and we wanna walk away from this with as many officers as we had going in, capisce?

He turns the volume on his vocoder up a notch and continues.

H. G Cross: Remember, this is a highly sensitive mission. We wouldn't risk disrupting the timeline with something as brazen as a smash-and-grab if it wasn't of utterly paramount importance. I want us in and out before those backwater yokels even know we're there, you hear me? Quick, clean, and efficient, using a minimum of force. That goes for our friends in the IDPD too, you know!

He throws a glance over at Captain Axiom, who replies with a smile.

Captain Axiom: Trust me, we'll be on our best behaviour~

She nods to the group of black-uniformed figures gathered behind her before putting her helmet on with a click. Cross looks like he's about to retort, but then notices a figure stepping through the armoury doors and snaps off a hasty salute.

H. G. Cross: C-Captain Lombardi! Ma'am!

The Captain: Stand down, Cross.

Lt. Cross hesitates for a moment, but relinquishes with a grimace as the ITPD Captain takes center stage. Her already looming and intimidating presence enhanced by the strange device strapped to her back, which whirrs and glows ominously.

The Captain looks over her department, and growls in annoyance when she notices one glaring admission.

The Captain: ... Where is the ITPD Inspector Branch?   

A look of panic momentarily spreads across Cross's face, though it is quickly calmed by a familiar whistle coming over from the right.

Inspector Bellucci: Right over here, Cap. Apologies, we had a little bit of trouble on the way~   

The Inspectors snigger as the Captain chuffs at them, her frustration clearly telegraphed.

The Captain: This is a raid of utmost importance and you still aren't taking this seriously, Inspector-Sergeant Bellucci!?

Inspector Bellucci: Calm down, calm down 'sor. We're here, we haven't missed the deploy drop. Therefore, we're on time! So no harm no foul, No~?   

The Captain groans as she facepalms into her hands.

The Captain: Don't call me "'sor" on the job, Leone.

Whilst the Captain is quiet, another voice chirps up, its owner eyeing the device on the Captain's back.

Captain Axiom: Oooooh, so that must be what Harlock was working on! He really does spoil you, doesn't he~

The Captain grumbles in Axiom's direction, but doesn't respond to her. Knowing that getting an answer out of the temperamental captain is fraught, Axiom then turns to face Inspector Bellucci.

Captain Axiom: Speaking of getting gifts from other departments, I believe you have something of mine, Sergeant~?

The Inspector stares at Axiom for a moment, before sighing and gesticulating in that way that [Italics] do.

Inspector Bellucci: Fine, fine. I'll relinquish him for you, Axiom~

The Inspector looks behind and whistles.

Inspector Bellucci: Hey! Cytiss! Your boss wants you back~

Inspector Pyferi: -Flatly- OK.

The lone IDPD Agent in the crowd worms his way through, before heading back over to Axiom's side.

Inspector Pyferi: Here. Axiom. Captain.

Captain Axiom: Good to have you back, spaceman~

Inspector Pyferi: Ground control to Major. Tom.

It seems that Pyferi intended on responding with sarcasm, but his unchanging monotonous tone doesn't really carry the intent. Nevertheless, he joins his IDPD brethren without saying another word. Axiom mimes tousling his hair beneath his helmet before she notices another familiar authority figure striding into the room.

Captain Axiom: Ah, bossman!

The Director: At ease, Axiom.

He glances around the room before his gaze rests on Captain Lombardi-Bellucci with a raised eyebrow.

The Director: ...Captain. I assume that device has been cleared for field testing?

The Captain: It has. That is, if you haven't lost or forgotten the paperwork that Captain Harlock had filed to get it cleared. As you tend to do with his paperwork specifically.

The Director's eyes narrow.

The Director: I have not, but I would advise you not to bring up the possibility. I would hate for you to jinx yourself, especially since we both know how easily these things can get lost in the shuffle.

He looks over at the arrayed officers and begins to speak.

The Director: I won't waste too much of your time with words. You already know your mission: the retrieval of Alexandre Cain, suspected terrorist and temporal fugitive. You already know that you will meet resistance, that the people you will meet do not understand the work we do to keep them safe. And you already know that you will overcome it, for you are all officers of the International Police, and we are the glue that keeps a broken world from falling into chaos. Good luck, all of you. I'll see you all on the other side.

He turns to leave, giving one last glance to the Captain specifically.

The Director: ...Don't fail me, Lombardi.

The Captain's eyes narrow, but she doesn't turn to face the Director.

The Captain: Trust me. I won't.

Cross nods, then turns back at the arrayed officers, grabbing his Shunter with one hand and one of his Pokeballs with the other.

H. G. Cross: You heard the man! Let's do this! FOR THE FUTURE!

ISPD Central Hub

Harlock receives the message from the First Expeditionary Team Scout, and responds in kind.

Captain Harlock: Captain Harlock to plainclothes team Dancing Bewear. The person you are approaching may not be the subject of interest. Make sure to proceed with caution, but don't harm laypeople for no reason. Over.

ISPD Central Hub

Harlock replies to Jonathan's statement.

Captain Harlock: Discovered...?

Team Dancing Bewear. Diverge from the original plan to get that information from Bellucci. Over

Harlock contemplates for a moment, before he wires himself up to contact Vera's communication system.

Captain Harlock: Ver'. It's Cap'n Harlock 'ere. How're things goin' on your end? Y'all need help there or som'thin'? Cause if yer do, I'm on high alert.

[spoiler]Thanks to Morph for spagging this with me!

Veilstone City, chronologically concurrent to the IDPD raid.

It's another miserable day in Veilstone City (though what day here isn't miserable anymore?). It was overcast and wet, streets still filled with puddles from the day before, and the streets were pretty bare even before the mandated curfew was called.

Though one figure stands out against the monotony of the city. A vivacious figure in lavish reds with long, honey-blonde hair stands across the street from the Veilstone Interpol HQ, eyeing the doors with mismatched irises.

Freyja: -Stretching and yawning in an exaggerated fashion- Well! We finally made it here to Veilstone, aaaaaalll the way from Kalos~! Haven't we girls?

She looks to the Pokemon flanking each side of her. One, a Jynx with a very unusual sense of style, sneers and spits in the direction of the police headquarters. The other, a Bisharp, merely stands and stares at the building. Never taking her eyes off it.

Jynx: <Nyerrh... I still don't like dis idea, Frey. They're cawps. You should kno' by now that ya' can't trust cawps, dear.>

The Jynx grumbles and folds her arms.

Jynx: <Plus I don' like the guy in chawge. Don' trust him. He doesn't seem like he's doin' dis from the goodness of his hawrt, Frey.>

The Jynx's trainer sighs slightly as she lightly pets the top of her Jynx's messy beehive.

Freyja: I know, Scarlet. But ""The Director"" is the only guy who could help me out at the moment, loathe I am to admit it. He's got the resources, I don't. I don't even think a fool like Luciano Cain would have the resources that I require...

She looks over to the Bisharp, who still hasn't moved from her position.

Freyja: What do you think? Rust~❤?

The Bisharp doesn't move. She just makes a few, slight, groaning and grumbling noises.

Freyja:  Exactly. So c'mon Scar'~❤ The quicker we talk, the quicker it'll be overt won't it~❤?

Scarlet: -Sighing- <Whateva' lov', you do you. Let's just get dis' ova' with...>

The young woman and her loyal Pokemon storm towards the Interpol HQ, pushing their way up the stairs and towards the front door which is guarded by a familiar set of Interpol entrance guards. One of them, whose right hand is in a cast, is animatedly complaining at the other, who appears to be totally disassociating.

Guard A: ...I’m telling you, man, it was totally unprovoked! She broke my fucking fingers! I should sue, or get workman’s comp, or some shit like that.

Guard 1: Workman’s comp? We haven’t been paid overtime for three months.

Guard A: Which is also an infringement on my civil rights.

Guard 1: ...The region’s under martial law.

Guard A: Right, so when the civil courts do come back, that smart-mouthed space-cop Captain is gonna have hell to-

He trails off upon noticing the young woman approaching, before picking his jaw off the floor and resuming speaking.

Guard A: ...Hello, beautiful. Not that I’m complaining, but are you sure you’ve got the right place? The Game Corner’s on the other side of town.

Freyja giggles and places a finger on her red painted lips, going along with the Guard's insinuations and deliberately plays up both the role he assigned to her and her Kalosien accent.

Freyja:  Oh non non non monsieur~ I'm exactly where I want to be, cheri. You see~ I have an... ahh... appointment, lets say, with one of the high ranking officers currently stationed at this building. So could you be a darling and let me in, s'il vous plait~❤?

The guard smirks.

Guard A: Sorry, there’s an entry toll. Hard times, y’know? But I might be willing to waive the fee in exchange for an “appointment” of my own…

Freyja giggles along, before she suddenly pulls the man forward with her psychic abilities, smacks him hard square in the back with her elbow, pulls out a gun from a hostler obscured by the tatty red coat she wears like a cape and shoves the barrel of the gun into the open, gasping mouth of the guard she just knocked the wind out of.

Freyja: -With a sinister smile, showing off her pointed teeth- Do you know what I feel when I kill a man at the end of this gun, monsieur?

The guard, for some reason, cannot move anything. It's as if his whole body has been fastened into place. Knowing he can't respond, she sniggers as she leans closer to him, whispering into his ear.

Freyja: Recoil~c

The other guard takes a step back and raises his hands nervously.

Guard 1: ...M-ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to put the g-gun down. Otherwise I… we’re g-gonna have to-

???: It’s alright.

The Director’s vocoded voice cuts through the air as he emerges from the doorway, looking over the scene before him. Freyja looks up at the director with a childish pout and pulls the trigger anyway.

It's blank.

The dignified air of the sultry Kalosian woman is completely destroyed by the dying Mightyena cackle that bursts out of her as she withdraws the barrel of the gun from the guards mouth and unpins him.

Freyja: The gun wasn't even loaded! Hah! The look on you guys faces was priceless! It's good to know that not even the oldest tricks in the book haven't worn out their welcome~!

The dignity of the guard is also destroyed, though in this case it’s because of the rapidly growing dark patch on his trousers. The Director, however, seems unperturbed.

The Director: More evidence that we need refresher courses on conventional weaponry. I have requested the additional funds required for such training several times now. Regardless… Freyja, walk with me?

The lady in red tilts her head and places her hands on her hip, showing off the sheen of her hoop earrings (with their silver and rainbow feathers hanging in the center).

Freyja:  Well, you are the boss here, so lead the way~ -Whistles- Girls~?

The Jynx and Bisharp make their way to their trainer's side, though the Bisharp ends up "accidentally" walking over the undignified guard's hand on the her way there.

Guard A: A-ack…!

Freyja:  Let's go~

The three begin to follow The Director, with the Jynx complimenting her trainer on how thoroughly she "showed 'im right", before Freyja turns her head around to look at the disgraced guard once more.

Freyja:  Also. One more thing...

The other guard just stands back and watches as his companion looks weakly up at Freyja.

Freyja: An appointment? With me? On your pay? Oh honey, you'd be lucky to afford a 15 minute talking session with me. Let alone anything more serious. I don't mess with men with salaries lower than seven figures. So keep on dreaming, dollface~❤

Getting in her last laugh, she idly waves at the two as she follows the Director into the Veilstone Interpol HQ. Eyes follow the pair as they go, recoiling from the woman and staring curiously at the Director accommodating her, which causes Freyja to smirk as she observes the place. This continues until they step into the elevator. The moment the door closes, the Director lowers his voice and hisses at her.

The Director: What are you doing here?

Freyja, almost unflappably, turns to the Director with half lidded eyes.

Freyja: Hmm? Oh, you weren't being all too responsive on my end, so I decided to - instead of go through another layer of unnecessary bureaucracy that leads nowhere - take the matters to you directly~

She gives a slight, yet knowing, smirk at the Director.

Freyja: -In a cloying tone- Did I come at a bad time, Director~❤?

The Director: Yes, you did. If this were not a matter of utmost importance, I would have remained in my office and let the guards deal with you however they saw fit. You are here at my privilege, Freyja, and I can have that privilege removed at a moment’s notice. Thankfully, we both realise that there are more pressing matters at hand  than your abuse of peacekeeping personnel.

Freyja: Feh, you don't seem to be all too concerned for that guard, Director. Anyway I was merely acting in self defence, sir. I was well within my right to do what I did to him. Plus, you really shouldn't be hiring people who would use their position to abuse women in the first place. I mean, what would the papers think~?

The Director snorts.

The Director: These things have a way of sorting themselves out.

As the elevator doors open out onto his corridor, he strides out, soon followed by Smirnov who somehow manages to convey an expression of concern through an opaque visor.

Shield-Private Smirnov: Um, s-sir? You don’t have any appointments scheduled for this-

The Director: Clear my schedule, Smirnov. And leave us be.

Shield-Private Smirnow: ...Y-yes, sir.

Freyja hums as she approaches Smirnov, idly waving her hand in the Director's direction.

Freyja: Oh, why must we rush things, Monsieur Director? I would actually like to get to know your staff here a little more~

Freyja places her hands on her knees and bends over to get to eye level with the Shield agent. Being 6'5 (with heels does) tend to make one tower over most people, after all. Especially when the person you're talking to is nary over 5 feet.

Freyja: So what's your name, darlin'?

Shield-Private Smirnov: Uh, I… Smirnov. Shield-Private Anfisa Smirnov, and I… well, I… I’m actually not s-supposed to....

She trails off before scurrying away, leaving the Director and Freyja alone together as they step into his office. Freyja pouts, her Jynx sniggering at the failed attempt to flirt while her Bisharp remains as robust as ever.

Once in the office, Freyja draps herself idly over the guest chair, and begins to file her nails.

Freyja: Aw, it was such a shame that she got so flustered~ That assistant of yours is a real cutie, after all~❤ Even if I couldn't see her facial features from underneath that silly helmet all of your agents wear~❤

The Director: Shield-Private Smirnov is a most capable assistant. Her adherence to the department’s uniform regulations does her credit.

Freyja: -Pouting- Unfortunately.

The Director lets out a small snort, then removes his helmet and looks over the desk at Freyja with his fingers steepled.

The Director: So. I presume you know, or have at least guessed, why I requested a meeting with you.

Freyja stops her idle nail filing as she looks the Director straight in the eye, that slightly off-kilter smile from earlier returning once more.

Freyja: Oh yes, I am quite aware~

As almost if a switch was flipped, Freyja lunges across the desk, grabs the Director by the lapels of his coat, raises him so his face is pressed against hers and screams at him.

Freyja: WHERE IS MY BROTHER HONTOU?

The Director grabs Freyja’s wrists and pulls them away, looking slightly perturbed but trying to hide it behind a mask of irritation.

The Director: We don’t know for sure, but we strongly suspect he had contact with an individual recently in our custody. We can send you back there, give you the chance to find him yourself.

Freyja pulls her wrists out of the Director's grip and slides slightly off the table, though never breaks eye contact.

Freyja: What exactly are you playing at here, Hontu? You're not exactly well known for you altruism, after all.

She taps the table.

Freyja: What's the catch? Your payment? What exactly would you get out of this "deal"?

Scarlet and Rust glare at the Director with the same distrusting scowl that Freyja is giving him at the moment. Evidently the Director has some work to do before he can win over this crowd, but he doesn’t blink.

The Director: Your brother is one of several individuals from this reality interfering with the flow of linear time. It is my duty to stop him from doing so. However, certain… restrictions within the IDPD charter prevent me from sending agents to apprehend him personality. Since you have your own reasons for seeking him out - this is a family matter, after all - the obvious solution seems to be to enlist your assistance. It would be reward enough for me to have this thorn removed from my side whilst having to deploy a minimum of my department’s assets.

Freyja gives a sardonic laugh midway through the Director's explanation.

Freyja: Oh yes~ Those restrictions~❤

She smirks at the Director and leans her cheek on her left hand, almost as if to deliberately show off the Silver Wing hoop earring she's wearing.

Freyja: I still don't trust you, but I guess I have no other option now, do I?

The Director: You could walk out of here and our paths would never cross again. But I suspect that particular choice doesn’t hold much appeal for you.

Freyja drums her nails on the hardwood desk.

Freyja: Mmm... No, it doesn't. Yet...

She narrows her eyes at the Director.

Freyja: I get the feeling that that option isn't congruent with what you want either, Director.

The Director: Of course not. I would never have another chance to apprehend Salvador, and you would be free to continue doing… whatever it is that you do. But even if I wanted to, I could hardly stop you from simply walking out of here.

Freyja gives a lazy smirk, and tuts at the Director.

Freyja: I guess I have no other choice but to accept your generous offer, Director~

She extends her hand for a shake, which he takes.

The Director: Very well. I will have one of my agents escort you to Salvador’s last known temporal location. The sooner the better, so that I can return to overseeing our current operation.

Freyja: -Chuckling- They say that stress is a silent killer, Director. Don't get too overworked on whatever little escapade your working on this time~

The Director gives her a sardonic smile.

The Director: I would much rather die to a silent killer than one of the loud, messy, and conspicuous ones, and there are quite a few of those roaming about.

He puts his helmet back on and stands up.

The Director: I will have Smirnov take you back. She will return to retrieve you once you are concluded with Salvador. Does that sound agreeable?

Freyja: And how will you know that, Directeur~❤

The Director: We have our ways.

A moment passes.

The Director: Also the ISPD has been developing quantum communicators. We’ll provide you with one so that you can signal us should you require extraction.

Freyja: Alright~ I'll be waiting right here for deployment~ You go fetch your cute little assistant and then we won't have to talk to each other again until the end mission. Sounds like a great deal to me~

The Director: Indeed. I’m glad we could be of assistance to each other.

He smiles beneath his helmet before striding out of the office to fetch Smirnov.

Interpol Authority, Information Ministry Headquarters

A secretary enters the austere yet luxurious office of the Deputy Director of Information. Ms. Panelo was a busy woman, and only important missives can be sent to her directly.

The assistant clutches her fingers, anxious to meet her superior. Despite her public image, Ms. Panelo was not the kindest of bosses; she spoke softly, yet her words belie an unmistakable ruthlessness that comes with running one of the most important organizations in the Interpol Authority. Only her own superiors could face her without fear, and they were far more frightening.

This was the price of order in their reality. A price too high, so those Panelo deemed foolish would claim.

Secretary: Madam, your three o'clock meeting has arrived. He's waiting at the antechamber.

Panelo was well-dressed, impeccably so, and her uniform flattered her figure. Many of her rivals had claimed she got the position solely because she was beautiful. She often cast such comments aside, as lesser minds often cannot see past her physical resplendence. It was a common assumption, and all too often a fatal one.

Panelo: Ah, Lieutenant Cross. Let him in.

Secretary: Yes, ma'am. The three-thirty meeting also arrived. We told him to wait in the lobby.

Panelo: Let him wait the next hour and have the Porygons scan his every move. Find out what he wants. And don't let him out of your sight.

The secretary bowed before exiting. At the reception hall, she called the attention of an intimidating man in an overcoat and a uniform that was unusual even for his division.

Secretary: The Deputy Director will see you now, Lieutenant Cross.

Deputy Director Panelo, slow clapping: Marvelous entrance, lieutenant.

She nods to the secretary, who salutes to the Lieutenant and bows out politely.

Deputy Director Panelo: Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, on to business. Since the director had to attend to other confidential matters, I have been placed in charge of a few of your division's pending operations. And I haven't received that much good news about your division since the failure to capture Alexandre Cain. Word among the upper echelons of the Authority have mentioned how much of a drain of resources your division had been. I plan to change all that.

She sashays to her desk and turns on a projector. The hologram reveals a [Byzantine] icon of a man wearing red bishop's clothes.

Deputy Director Panelo: It came to me as a genuine surprise that your list of offenders featured this man. Nicholas of [Myra]. Now, you're probably familiar with his activities. Breaking into people's homes once every day leaving who knows what to children as some sort of positive reinforcement. In some realities, he is said to be the stuff of legend. But we know better.

The slides show blurry photos of Santa doing a bigfoot pose, carrying a sack of toys, and faint images of a glowing, flying sleigh, led by what appears to be a ponyta followed by eight stantlers.

Deputy Director Panelo: Then again, there is no way he could get everything done unless he was breaking several space-time protocols. Recently, we've been getting reports that children who have shown zealous compliance to our recent public relations campaign have been receiving coal. Alarming, is it not?

Interpol Authority, Information Ministry Headquarters

Deputy Director Panelo: Oh, he's very real. Very much alive. And high up on your hit list. They said the same thing about time travel and the multiverse, and yet here you are. That said, it isn't surprising that you haven't heard of him. Operations regarding him were kept classified. Today marks the day you were cleared to see his dossier.

The hologram reveals more information on Santa and his operations and features a globe positioned over an Arctic with very little winter ice.

Deputy Director Panelo: Our target eluded death several centuries ago and fled to a time-space anomaly, entered through a pass in Earth's magnetic North Pole. There, he uses his vast wealth, undoubtedly gotten through the same criminal tampering of the time stream, to fund his operations.

The hologram then changes to another set of diagrams on a potential operation.

Deputy Director Panelo: That said, his constant flaunting of the rules of time and space shall be the stuff of mythology once we're through. The Interpol Authority shall dispatch an inter-division taskforce to apprehend Saint Nicholas and have him accountable to his crimes in all the realities he functions in. In doing so, I hope to accomplish more than our target goals. Our observations on his whereabouts reveal rather pithy defenses. A couple of jynxes and the stantler and ponyta he rides. Rest assured, this will not be a repeat of your embarrassing attempt at capturing Alexandre.

Undisclosed Team Signal HQ, Hours Later

From the Desk of Dolly

"Our insiders have revealed extensive mobilization. The Interpol Authority is tapping the IDPD on yet another holiday mission. Stand by for details."

Interpol Authority, Information Ministry Headquarters

Deputy Director Panelo: Marvelous, lieutenant. We'll be taking these two cruisers to the North Pole, followed by a small fleet of icebreaker ships that will plow through what little ice we encounter. You will take command of the IDPD troops stationed in the Cumberbatch, while our flagship the Carrey will be helmed by myself.

The projector now shows two ships—the high-tech, modern Carrey and the old-fashioned looking Cumberbatch—rotating.

Deputy Director Panelo: The troops have been mobilized. Have the IDPD operatives ready at the port by tonight. We intend to arrive there before the End of Festivus.

The projector shuts off.

Deputy Director Panelo: And one more thing, Lieutenant. Lately, we've been having a bit of a diglett problem, if you know what I mean. I'd stay vigilant for anything peculiar among your staff. I mean, who knows how many bugs you can hide in a cyborg's robotic arm?

Another figure enters the room. A tall, handsome young man wearing a plaid shirt. He wears glasses. The secretary fidgets behind him. He is followed by an ariados.

Tommy Jr.: 'Sup babe.

Secretary: Sorry, ma'am. He insisted on getting here on the dot.

Deputy Director Panelo: Alas, Mr. Petersen, I abhor your informality. But public relations demand that I put up with it. There appears to be a certain charm to it.

Tommy Jr. shrugs and makes a farty noise, his face making a funny expression that the Deputy Director obviously thinks is cute. Panelo, meanwhile, walks to one of her decorative snake plants and douses it with water from a mug.

Deputy Director Panelo: Would you excuse me lieutenant, I have an interview to attend to.

Tommy Jr. reaches out his hand in a handshake gesture.

Tommy Jr.: Thomas Andrew Petersen, Geographer Weekly correspondent. A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. Also, Charmelle, you could've just told your assistant to water that for you. You'd think you'd sully yourself with physical labor and all.

Deputy Director Panelo: Trust me, Thomas, I'd rather do it myself. Nothing I'd like more than to remind everyone that I balk at the idea of letting a living thing perish needlessly. Especially when they're so useful.

Tommy Jr., nonchalantly: Cool.

Team Signal Communication Line

A cloaked message, disguised as a message from mother, is heard across Team Signal communicators.

Decoded, it sends a distress signal. Alert. Code 013 Gaiva Dam. Diglett Division operatives to lay low until further notice. Do not file resignation letters. Do not send out communiques. Stay where you are until a disguised operative has arrived.

---

"Voice. This is Dolly. Standby for further details on IDPD's Operation Saintfall and alert active Signaljammers for an incoming assignment. Over."