Part of the Gym Leader Series by Blackjack Gabbiani
Everything about the land was a scene from Hell. Bomb blasts exploded in every direction, and bursts of gunfire traced a deadly trail through the underbrush.
Ensign R. F. Surge was not accustomed to fright, but he had to admit that he was scared shitless.
Of course, he would never admit it to anyone but himself. Had to keep the morale up, no matter what. After the last wave of attacks, anything to keep spirits up...
"Get down!" Another bomb exploded, this one not ten yards from the platoon. Surge gritted his teeth. As the highest-ranking officer left, the fate of the squad was in his hands. We can't lose any more...
"Sir! We have to retreat! They're getting closer and closer all the time..."
Surge whirled around. "OK, guys! Go back! We can regroup at the base! Let's GO!!!" The troops were only too relieved to follow orders.
"Figures," Surge muttered to himself as he trudged through the thick brush. "My first time in command and I get lost..." He muttered a series of various curse words as he freed his foot from a rotting log.
After a few more minutes of searching, a rancid stench in the air forced him to his knees in a coughing fit. Covering his mouth with his free hand, he reached for his M16, and continued in.
It was like a scene from a horror movie, he later reflected. A bomb had exploded, killing dozens of soldiers from both sides, including some from Surge's own faction. Taking in the gore was too much for him, and he collapsed and vomited in a nearby bush. After several minutes of dry-heaving and trying in vain to distance himself from his surroundings, he heard a strange sound.
"Piiiiii..." A plainative, mournful sound, like a crying child. Surge raised his head and looked around for the source.
A small yellow creature was sniffing around the bodies of the soldiers, occasionially shaking them. Every few steps, it would emit a weak electrical impulse, and was quickly weakening. "Piiii-cha..." it whispered hoarsely.
Surge made his way over to the forlorn Pichu, being sure to watch his footing. His boots soaked with blood, he knelt to pick up the mouse.
"Pi...chuuuuu..." it wimpered and started to walk off.
"Wait," he said, surprised at the monotone of his own voice. "Do you want me to...follow you?"
It nodded. "Chu," it affirmed, and lead the man back into the forest.
"This is your nest?" Surge asked. The Pichu had led him to a desolate place, reeking of gunpowder and blood.
"Chaaaa..." it answered sadly.
"Are you the only one left?"
It turned around and pushed aside a broad leaf, revealing a nest of twigs and dried grass. A large dead Pikachu, in the early stages of decomposition, lay in the middle. The Pichu wimpered and began to cry.
Surge blinked. "Your...mother?" The mouse nodded.
He knelt down. "I'm sorry," he whispered, something he found strange to hear from his usually loud voice.
"Chaaaa..." it sobbed.
"Um...would you like to come with me?" Where the HELL did that come from? I've never raised a Pokémon before! Why am I--
The Pichu brightened. "Picha!" it sniffed, the tinest smile crossing its tear-stained face.
And there in the dark, nightmarish jungle, two lonely individuals found a partner.