Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction ❯ Storm Warning-Part 1 ❯ Chapter 2

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

This story contains scenes of explicit sex, naughty words, and other horrible, offensive things. If you are underage in you house, village, town, city, community, state, province, country, or continent: READ NO FURTHER! If that type of thing offends your tender sensibilities, or you are stupid: READ NO FURTHER! All characters are the copyright of their respective creators and/or owners; no copyright infringement is intended by this story. Any resemblance to people, places, or situations alive, dead, or otherwise is purely coincidental.

Chapter 2

Tank's fingers twitched nervously at his sides as the elevator Dior and he were in slowed to a stop and its dull, grey doors slid open with a muted buzz. The Tamer's exam had taken him about forty minutes out of the sixty minutes allotted to test takers to complete. He had thought he had done well, a feeling that was confirmed when Dior entered a few minutes later to tell him he had passed and that she would take him to see Professor Throbbin. But now that he was actually on the threshold of achieving his goal of becoming a Tamer…Tank wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans to dry them of the sweat that was building up on them.

Following Dior he left the elevator to enter into the biggest room he had yet seen in the large complex run by Professor Throbbin. As Tank looked around in great interest he could see that the room appeared to be basically circular in diameter with the elevator coming down in a column in the center of the room. Large computers, monitors, readouts, and other pieces of scientific equipment whose purpose he couldn't even begin to guess at were installed along the walls while in various places throughout the room there were long, solid tables and benches covered with more computers, beakers, flasks, chemicals, and a thousand other bits and pieces of things beyond description. Wires snaked about the floor in endless coils, connecting different machines up with one another.

What truly caught Tank's attention, however, were the scenes he could see on a number of different monitors set into the upper half of the wall around the room. Each gigantic screen showed different Pokegirls in a number of different settings. Some were clearly in clinical, laboratory settings while others appeared to be in wild, natural places. A number of the Pokegirl looked to be undergoing some types of tests, but just as many seemed to be going through the normal business of their lives; eating, sleeping, playing, etc. Tank had no real evidence for it, but he had the feeling that all of the Pokegirls were in different locations of Professor Throbbin's Pokegirl Center.
Tank couldn't really make out any true organization in the room, with bubbling liquids being placed next to flashing mechanical devices, but he presumed there had to be some kind of pattern he just didn't know about. Through the seeming chaos of the laboratory Tank could see a few shapes, perhaps 6 or 7, moving about. As far as Tank could see they all appeared to be different types of Pokegirls, clad in long white lab coats and carrying clipboards, files, etc, but he couldn't be sure as many of the pieces of equipment were so large that they blocked all view as the figures moved behind or between them.

As Tank was gaping curiously about Dior had been leading him on a weaving path through the equipment until she suddenly stopped, causing the teenager to almost crash into the small Pokegirl. Forcing himself to focus his attention back on the reason he was there, Tank saw another figure in a white lab coat standing in front of Dior and himself. “Professor Throbbin? This is the boy who just took the Tamer's exam,” Dior spoke to get the attention of the figure, Professor Throbbin.

Professor Throbbin jerked his head up in surprise, clearly not having noticed the arrival of the Pokegirl and her charge. He quickly switched his attention from Dior to the teen just behind her. Each person examined the other in silence for a few moments. Tank saw a man in his late middle age, perhaps late forties or early fifties, who stood just under six feet tall. The Professor had straight, medium-length, black hair that was starting to get a few streaks of grey in it. Underneath his white lab coat Professor Throbbin wore a checked dress shirt without a tie, a pair of grey slacks, and scuffed, black, leather dress shoes. The Professor wore no glasses, but his brown eyes seemed to squint a bit as he looked at the teenager.

For his part, Professor Throbbin saw a fifteen year old who was tall for his age, already slightly over six feet tall with a solid, muscular build. Tank had quite short, pale blonde hair and clear, green eyes. The teen was wearing a pair of slightly baggy, well-worn blue jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. On his feet was a pair of brown, ankle-high hiking shoes. Overall, Tank gave a feeling of power and self-confidence despite his youth, but his face, while handsome in a rugged way, seemed a bit closed as if he did not trust others easily.
It was Professor Throbbin who finally broke the silence, “So, which do you prefer to be called, Karl or…What was that name you mentioned, Dior?” Professor Throbbin leafed through the papers littering his table as if looking for where he had written down the answer. “Started with a `t' didn't it?”

“Tank, sir,” the teen answered before the Mousewife had a chance to say anything. “And I prefer that to my given name.”

“Tank, hmm?” The Professor said ruminatively as he began typing into a small, palm-sized computer that was connected through coils of wires to various other devices on his table as well as one of the larger computer units set into the wall nearest him. “Can I ask how you got such an unusual nickname?”

“My classmates gave it to me when I was in elementary school, sir,” Tank answered truthfully. “One of my classmate's father was a history teacher and he had told him some things about Pre-Sukebe times. It seems that back then there were vehicles called tanks that…”

“That were used in human warfare. Yes, yes, I know what a tank is,” Professor Throbbin interrupted before Tank could continue. “So you were pretty big back then? Is that why they gave you that nickname?”

Tank could feel his face turning red in embarrassment as he muttered his answer, “Yeah, well…That was part of the reason.”

“And the other part?” Professor Throbbin pressed even as he continued to type into his computer.

“Uh…It was my…temper,” Tank eventually answered. “It could be…explosive at times.”

“Well, I hope you've managed to get it under control by now,” Professor Throbbin replied, but he didn't wait for an answer before continuing. “At any rate, as I'm sure Dior told you, you passed your Tamer's exam. Actually,” the Pokegirl Researcher picked up a printout as he spoke. “You got a perfect score. Congratulations, here's your Pokedex. I programmed my Center as your Pokegirl Storage Ranch for if you capture more than the six you're permitted to take with you at your current level, but if you have another preference I can change the setting easily enough.”

“Thanks,” Tank replied as he took the offered Pokedex and shook hands with the older man. “Your PokeCenter would be fine. I really appreciate it.”

“OK,” Professor Throbbin went on. “Also I just put in your nickname as your name of choice so there shouldn't be any problem with the PokeLeague Officials over that.” Waving aside the teen's thanks, Professor Throbbin continued, “Now, about your first Pokegirl. Normally all we ask for is a nominal fee from the new Tamer's family for an entry level Pokegirl, which the Tamer can choose from what's available here at my Center.”

Before the Professor could finish, Tank interrupted, his face becoming even redder with embarrassment, “I don't have any family, Professor Throbbin. But I've saved enough money to pay the fee myself.” Tank began digging into his jeans back pocket to pull out his credit chip, which recorded the amount of his funds and was used on all the various continents to pay for any purchases the owner made. It had taken him a long time and a lot of work to earn enough to both pay the fee for a beginning Pokegirl and to equip himself for his Taming journey. It was the lack of a family that had been the biggest reason for his coming well after he knew the other prospective Tamers, most classmates of his, would have finished. Becoming a Tamer was a big moment in almost any family and he didn't want to be all by himself in that kind of celebratory, family situation. It would be better to do it all on his own when his orphaned status wouldn't stick out so noticeably.

“Uh, actually your fee has already been paid for,” Professor Throbbin said, blinking a bit in surprise at Tank. Looking over at a computer screen on his lab table he said, “A League Official, Charles Xavier, transferred the funds for you in case you decided to take the exam and passed it. Uh, didn't he tell you?” Professor Throbbin looked up at the bigger youth cautiously.

“No, no he didn't. I never knew…” Tank choked out, turning his head and pinching his eyes tightly shut to stop any of the tears he felt welling up from leaking out. Dr. Charles Xavier had been the man who had done the most to take care of Tank for as long as he could remember, ever since he had been discovered as a baby floating on a shard of wood from a ship wreck in the freezing cold Broad Bosom Bay. His given name had been chosen for him after an extensive search of shipping records, missing people, and so on had failed to turn up any clues to his identity. But Tank had always preferred the nickname given to him as an elementary school student to that fake name, he felt it was closer to his true self, even if not wholly complimentary.

“Anyway,” Professor Throbbin said, seemingly oblivious to the emotions rushing through Tank while Dior looked up at the teenager in sympathetic concern. “Since the choice in Pokegirls usually goes in score order that would have given you first choice, but…But since you didn't come with the other prospective Tamers this morning the choice is a bit, well, limited. Actually, I really only have one Pokegirl available for you.” He reached into a machine to pull out a red and white Pokeball that had a steady glowing red light, indicating that it contained a Pokegirl. “I got this Pokegirl a bit less than a month ago. She's a Tomboy and like all such Pokegirls her temperament is…Well, volatile. Even more so than usual in this particular Pokegirl's case. Sorry, but I'm afraid that's all there is available.”

Tank shrugged his broad shoulders in indifference. “Well, if that's what you've got, that's what you've got. If she's really that much of a problem she should be a good test of my ability as a Tamer.”

Professor Throbbin handed over the Pokeball to Tanks, saying as he did so, “Well, that's an admirable attitude. I'll just record your ownership into the League records. Also, here are some empty Pokeballs for the future. Good luck, Tank!”

“Thank you, Professor Throbbin,” Tank replied as he shook hands with the professor. Then he looked down at the small Mousewife to the side of the two humans and extended his hand to her as well, “And thank you also, Dior.”

Dior and Professor Throbbin exchanged shocked glances even as the Pokegirl placed her small, furry, warm hand into the large youth's. “It was my pleasure, Tank.” She then led him back into the elevator in the middle of the room.

As the elevator made its way up toward the surface level of the PokeCenter Professor Throbbin regarded it with a brow furrowed with concentration and interest. “Now that is a surprising young Tamer,” he said to himself quietly, unaware he was speaking out loud. “It should be fascinating to follow his progress.”
Shortly afterwards Dior stood at the open door of the PokeCenter watching the large form of the teenager disappear over the crest of the hill. “What an interesting Tamer,” she said softly in unknowing agreement with her master. “Good luck, Tank.”