The instant he’d heard Akari’s name rumble through the village, Ingo had known what was about to happen. Given how closely his own arrival had coincided with the rift’s appearance, he’d suffered a similar level of scrutiny from the Pearls, and while the situation had resolved itself for the better, he’d been prepared for the worst. Now, as the whispers of suspicion grew in volume, he was being forced to reexamine that worst case scenario from a new angle.

 

It hadn’t been a difficult task, to head Kamado off. The sky had begun to bleed just after daybreak, by which point the Commander was already established in his office. All Ingo had to do was speak to him before he could do anything rash.

 

There was little doubt that, after Kamado dealt with the supposed threat nearest to him, his attention would turn to its more complicated cousin. Ingo was a grown man, an accomplished handler of Pokemon, and a Warden of the Pearl Clan; the Commander held sway over him only insofar as his position within Galaxy Team, which was… not much. He wasn’t dependent on Jubilife Village for food or shelter, didn’t rely on a corpsman’s give-and-take. His presence in the village at all was a gesture of good will, the Pearl Clan lending a helping hand.

 

If Kamado tried to detain him-- a member of the clan venerating Sinnoh’s blessed space-- against his will, it would spark a conflict Galaxy Team couldn’t afford.

 

But if he went voluntarily, that would be another story.

 

Ingo was under no illusions that his compliance would get Akari off the hook entirely; even if, by some miracle, she was proven wholly, indisputably innocent, the seeds of doubt would remain. The most this would do was lessen the sentence, buy her time, perhaps-- it would give her a chance to survive on her own. That task would be a staggering one regardless, but he had little doubt she could rise to it.

 

He rolled a pokeball between his hands. It was soothing to hold, but also served as a reminder to those standing opposite him just what his team was capable of, and who they were dealing with. If, disregarding tensions between the factions, they attempted to force his hand, he was more than capable of pushing back.

 

Zisu’s expression twisted into an uneasy grimace, glancing from the pokeball to his face, and a hand migrated to the tasseled version on her hip. Across from her, Cyllene glanced to her Abra, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against her arm.

 

“Whatever you would ask of Miss Akari, you may ask me instead; I will cooperate to the best of my abilities, limited though they may be. My only stipulation is that you don’t burden her with this.”