Power Rangers Nexus

Chapter 3

Tue, 10 Apr 2007 20:00:06 GMT

Tommy awoke to the sound of sirens.

"Red Ranger, please report to the bridge. We have a problem."

When Tommy arrived at the bridge of the orbiting craft, he found it to be milling with people, each one wearing almost exclusively a single color... Obviously Rangers. One of them, a girl decked out entirely in hot pink, glanced over at him.

"About time you showed, Tommy," she said. She looked a great deal like a female version of Jareth, except that her hair was lighter and her skin darker from spending a good deal more time in the sun.

"Tommy, this is my sister, Mara. Mara, Tommy," Jareth said, yawning.

"Nice to meet you, Tommy. I'm the Pink Ranger."

"No kidding," Tommy said, glancing at her shockingly pink outfit. "What's the problem?" he asked, glancing at the pulsating orb from which Zord-1's voice emanated.

"Three problems, actually." The large window at the front of the bridge split into three viewscreens, each displaying a different image. Then, the image on the far left grew, covering the other two. A strange, humanoid, wolflike creature was wandering a vast desert, every so often consulting what appeared to be a compass hanging from his neck.

"First of all," Zord-1 said, "Prince Ornyk of Zorn is on the planet of Polaria. I believe he is seeking a magical artifact of signifigant power. The purpose of this cannot be other than detrimental to us, therefore it is imperative that we not allow this quest to come to fruition."

"What?" Mara asked.

"We've got to stop him," Jareth translated.

"Ah," Mara said.

"Second," the sentient computer intoned, as the image shrunk and the one next to it grew to cover the full screen, "A large contingent of spacecraft, heavily armed, is approaching Terra. It's destination appears to be New York City. The fleet is well-armed and quite capable of decimating the city."

"What's the third problem?" A young teenager in white clothing asked. Obviously the White Ranger. Tommy wished he'd been formally introduced; he felt a bit akward standing amidst all these total strangers.

"The third problem is the usual. Giant monster attacking the abandoned warehouse district."

"Ah."

"Jareth, Myk, and Deacon: I would like you to attend to the problem on Polaria. Do you believe yourselves capable of defeating Ornyk?"

Myk nodded. "Absolutely."

"I think we can take him," Deacon added, scrutinizing his picture on the screen.

"He's not another one of those 'indestructible except for one small, virtually inaccessible spot' monsters, is he?" Jareth asked.

"No," Zord-1 replied.

"Then sure. We can handle him."

Acting in unison, the three held out their arms and flicked their wrists. Streams of gold, silver, and bronze smoke spiralled down the respective Rangers' arms, finally solidifying in their hands as their morphers.

"Lion!"

"Eagle!"

"Elephant!"

Tommy blinked. Despite having seen the portraits hanging around the bridge, some part of him had expected these three to appear in the standard Ranger Uniform. Instead, there now stood before him three almost completely different suits of armor.

The Gold Ranger's helmet resembled a lion's head. However, instead of simply being carved in the shape of the animal's head, his helmet had a mane of actual fur growing from the back, encircling his neck. His torso was covered in golden armor, but it was also covered in a long black coat. The sleeves vanished halfway down his arms, becoming one with his bracers,and his lower legs were encased in boots that resembled lion's paws.

The Silver Ranger was wearing a shield, similar to the one Tommy had worn back when he was the Green Ranger, except that it's shoulder pads curled upwards. His helmet was almost nondescript, only upon closer inspection could Tommy make out the fine detailing of the elephant's visage concealed in its features.

The Bronze Ranger looked like a classic superhero, cape and all. His helmet was carved into the form of an eagle, with the swept back wings raised from the surface so that they resembled horns. Hs entire body was armored, legs and all, and his boots ended in bladelike talons. Still, there was something about him, either the way he was standing or the armored plates that hung from the sides of his belt, that brought to mind a Roman centurian.

Without a word, the three teleported off in a flash of metallic-hued light.

"Excellent. Kalen, Fox, and Angel." Three more Rangers stepped forward, a girl of asian decent, dressed almost entirely in purple, a shorter girl with burgandy hair covered in combat fatigues, and a large, thoughtful-looking young man in gray.

"I would like the three of you to deal with the monster de jour. He shouldn't be much trouble."

Like the three before them, the Rangers thus addressed summoned their morphers.

"Hammerhead!"

"Wolf!"

"Crocodile!"

Tommy was less surprised this time to see the difference in the costumes. The Uniforms these Rangers wore weren't exactly uniforms, as no two seemed to be quite alike.

The Gray Ranger was wearing solid gray body armor from the waist up, but the lower half of his body was covered by a pair of loose, stitched leather pants, also gray. He also seemed to be wearing some sort of cloak or shawl....or something, that covered only his right half, made of fur and decorated with shards of bone and fangs. His helmet was sculpted to resemble a wolf.

The Purple Ranger was decked out in what seemed to be a sorceress's cloak. Her body beneath the cloak was protected by what appeared to be a purple wetsuit, and her arms and legs had bladelike fins extending from them. A simlar fin grew from the top of her helmet, which resembled the head of a hammerhead shark. There were eyes on either side of her forehead, and gill slits where her ears should have been.

The remaining Ranger was wearing emerald green armor, but only on her torso could it be seen. The rest of her was covered as it had been, with camoflauge army fatigues. She was wearing a camo jacket, pants, and a pair of black combat boots, but Tommy caught a flash of red just inside her Jacket, and realized that she was equipped with a Blade Blaster, just like the ones the Rangers used to use back when he was the Green Ranger. Her helmet was carved to resemble a crocodile.

Again without preamble, Zord-1 teleported them to where they needed to be. Finally, he adressed the remaining Rangers.

"Good. Now. Rangers. On to New York.

* * *

Jareth was very glad he was wearing a helmet, or he'd have gotten a facefull of sand. Actually, if he hadn't been morphed, he'd have probably broken every bone in his body, given the velocity with which he hit the ground. Fortunately, morphed bodies didn't exactly have bones... Or, for that matter, anything else remotely resembling an organ.

Disentanging himself from his coat and shaking the sand out of his mane, he looked over for the other two Rangers. Deacon lay some distance behind him, facefirst in the sand. Jareth strode over and pulled him to his feet.

"Oomph," Deacon said crankily, though he hadn't felt any actual pain. "When will that Microsoft reject learn how to land an interplanetary teleport?"

"Can YOU land an interplanetary teleport?"

"Umm... No."

"Then quit bitchin'. Where's Myk?"

"Here!"

Myk was standing atop a nearby sand dune, having managed to land perfectly.

"Come on. We have to stop Ornyk." He hopped down and began making his way across the sands.

"Yeah, yeah, when we're good and ready," Jareth said, brushing off his sleeves. "How do you know he went that way, anyway?"

The Bronze Ranger pointed down to a set of pawlike tracks in the sand, luckily undisturbed by any stray winds.

"Ah," Deacon said.

Since all that needed to be said had been, the three headed off across the sands...

* * *

"Zedd sent us an ugly one this time," Fox said, her voice transmitted to the helmets of her fellow Rangers so it could be heard above the roars.

"They're ALL ugly," Angel replied. He touched a hand to the side of his helmet, opening the comlink to the Oasis' Zord Bay. "Wolf Dinozord, online."

Almost instantly, a gleaming, two story mechanical wolf appeared atop the next warehouse over.

He looked expectantly at the other two. "Well?"

"What, can't you handle it?" Kalen replied, teasing.

Angel sighed and willed the Line-of-sight teleportation system of his zord to beam him aboard. Settling into the cockpit, he removed his Power Coin from his belt and stretched it into an icicle-shaped crystal, then used the crystal to activate the Zord's motor functions.

The Wolf zord let out a howl and pounced upon the monster, who put up an arm to defend itself. The monster let out a screech of pain and rage as the Wolf's teeth sank into it's flesh, but it couldn't shake off the Zord's metal grip.

Kalen and Fox giggled from their vantage point atop one of the warehouses as the monster flailed his arm, the wolf flailing around with it.

Angel wasn't bothered by the shaking, protected as he was by the stabilizers in the cockpit, but the giggling was nonetheless annoying.

"Oh, very funny."

* * *

"Tommy... Do you know how to summon your Morpher?"

"I think so." Tommy concentrated, and twisted his wrist. A small swirl of crimson mist spiralled down his arm, solidifying in his open palm as his Power Morpher. "Excellent." Zord-1 said. "You know the Morphing call that activates it?"

"Tyranosaurus?"

"Correct. I'm glad you're familiar with the basics. I was concerned that they may differ too much here from those in your world. Now, then, Rangers Your mission is to teleport to New York City, Morph, summon your DinoZords, and destroy the attacking fleet. Do you accept?"

There was a general babble of agreement.

"Then good luck."

In a flash of scarlet light, Tommy found himself standing atop a skyscraper in the middle of a massive city: NYC. The other Rangers stood alongside him.

Acting almost as one (Tommy had never realized before just how creepy that was) they summoned their morphers.

"Dragonzord!"

"Brachiosaurus!"

"Mastadon!"

"Pterodactyl!"

"Triceratops!"

"Saber-toothed Tiger!"

Once again, Tommy blinked. Despite seeing the different armors before, he'd expected these ones to be like the ones he remembered, but only the Pink and White Rangers looked as he expected. Well, the Green Ranger armor wasn't much different, except its being worn by a girl. It still had the golden Dragon Shield, but it now covered what were unmistakably feminine contours. The Dragon Dagger hung at her hip, but a mass of golden-blonde hair now poured from a cresent-shaped slot in the back of her helmet, and the green parts of the armor had etchings resembling scales.

The Black Ranger still had the familiar Mastadon-shaped helmet, but this armor, too, was now worn by a female. Her torso was protected by polished black armor, but her arms and legs were wrapped in strips of black fabric, inlaid with silver spikes and studs, like a ninja or assassin. A pair of throwing stars adorned one arm, and her right gauntlet bore a strange, clawlike device. Across her back was a short black katana, the kind used by ninjas (well, in all the movies he'd seen, anyway), it's sheath fastened to her back by a thick, spiked bandolier. Dyed-blue hair spilled from the back of her helmet.

The Blue Ranger was dressed entirely in armor, with no fabric visible. There were no white diamond-markings, like Tommy had expected, but on the left side of his chest he bore a gold disc, carved to resemble the Power Coin in his belt, like a badge. He, too, had a red Blade Blaster, but instead of hanging from his belt, it was attached to the side of his right leg. On the left side of his belt was a short, blue cyllindar, the purpose of which Tommy could only imagine. The armor as a whole brought to mind a kind of futuristic police officer, though quite different from the Blue Senturian Tommy had known.

The Yellow Ranger's armor had a wild, untamed look to it. Jagged black stripes decorated the suit, and her high-heeled black boots forked at her knees.

A blast of solid light struck the sidewalk below them, shaking Tommy out of his observations. Realizing that he was still vulnerable, he held out his morpher.

"Tyrranosaurus!"

It was a feeling he never quite got tired of. All of the leftover weariness from the night before vanished. Every human being constantly experiences minor aches and pains (they simply get used to them to the point that they are no longer noticed), but these, too, were abruptly gone, conspicuous by their absence. In the back of his mind was the instinctive knowledge of everything this body was capable of, as though he'd been using it for centuries and knew each and every one of it's limitations.

He was the Red Power Ranger. His strength and speed, agility and reflexes, far surpassed everything the human body was capable of. His weapon was the Tyrant Sword (Tommy recognized it as the original Power Sword), which he could summon at will. He had access to a helmet device called the Power Scan, which was a sensory device to be marvelled at. He had a special attack he could use called Fireball, which could fly for hundreds of yards and exploded upon impact. He was now a master of every sword technique man had ever discovered, would ever discover, and even some that had been refined millenia ago on planets never even dreamt of by man. And, last but most certainly not least, he could summon the fearsome Tyranosaurus Rex Dinozord, a sentient machine capable of leveling mountains with a single blast.

All of this information flowed through his mind so quickly, he almost thought he'd lose it, but it was there, waiting to be called on, and he knew it.

"So THAT's what the Red armor looks like," The Pink Ranger said. Her face couldn't be seen, but from the tilt of her head she was looking at him appraisingly.

The look didn't last long, another blast of energy struck the concrete, burning through the asphault and rupturing the pipes below. A jet of superheated steam shot out as the water in the pipes was instantly vaporized.

"We'd best get to work," Tommy said. He raised a hand to the side of his helmet to call his Zord, but to his surprise, it suddenly appeared before he'd said a word, along with those of the other Rangers.

"Zord-1 sent them ahead. He knew we'd be needing them," Mara said, somehow reading the surprise on his face though she couldn't see it.

"You know how to get in, right?"

"Jump," Tommy said, but even as he said it, he realized it wasn't right. The information in his head said that the Zords had their own teleportation systems, designed to bring the Rangers aboard. "I mean, yes. I know how to get in. Thanks."

Mara nodded, then shot towards her Zord as a streak of pink light. Tommy did the same, and found himself in a bright red cockpit. It was slightly similiar to that of the Dragonzord, though he'd only been inside the Dragonzord once or twice, preferring to control it with his Dagger.

Tommy laid his hands on the controls, and immediately, is was as if his mind expanded to fill the Zord. The Zord seemed to become an extension of his body, or his body a single part of the Zord. Tommy/Tyranosaur looked up as the first of the oncoming fighter ships broke through the clouds above.

"I've got 14 blips on the scope," Mara's voice called, as her Pterodactyl Zord flew by overhead.

"Two apiece," another voice called, one Tommy didn't recognize. He blinked. As if to answer his curiosity, letters began to flow past the inside of his visor. The language was completely foreign to him, he knew he could never read these characters if he weren't morphed, even if he could see them. It was information on the vital statistics of the Black Ranger; that voice had been Electra's.

That was enough for now, Tommy willed the information to go away. He'd look up more when he had the time.

Tommy/Tyranosaur looked up, and caught a jet fighter of alien design square in the face.

* * *

Ornyk scowled, consulting the magic compass that hung from the golden chain around his neck. He was getting close. Good. He didn't care much for deserts. Too hot, too dry. He'd much prefer to be in a jungle or a cave, where it was at least humid enough to breathe without getting a lungful of dust. Of course, he knew better than to actually breathe here, his kind were meant to breathe the nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere of Gamma Class planets, not the methane cloud that surrounded this place. Being a magical entity, he didn't NEED to breathe, but old habits died hard, and it'd be a relief to get what he was here for and go home. What exactly he was looking for... He sighed. At this point, the main reason he was still going was to find out just what in Creoa's name it was.

"Stop!"

Ornyk spun around, and there atop a nearby sand dune stood the Bronze Ranger, striking what he supposed was meant to be a heroic pose.

"What do you want, Ranger?"

"We've come to stop you," the Silver Ranger said in a resigned voice, walking up to stand to the Bronze Ranger's left.

"We were just going to stab you in the back and go home, but Hero Boy here had to go for the dramatic entrance," the Gold Ranger added, shooting what was undoubtedly a withering look at the Bronze Ranger.

"I don't believe you two!" the Bronze Ranger said, turning on his teammates. "We're supposed to be the good guys!"

SHYNK!

There was a sudden pain in Myk's back as Ornyk's dagger pierced his armor. Siezing his opportunity, Ornyk had closed the distance between them and struck.

"Oh, but Bronze Ranger, the 'bad guys' would never hesitate to stab YOU in the back."

The wolflike creature withdrew his dagger and let Myk fall to the sand. Ornyk knew he wasn't dead, far from it; if Power Rangers were that easy to kill, there'd be no point. He could already see the hole in his armor healing. He'd be up on his feet again in a few minutes.

"Lyonscythe!"

"Silver Swords!"

The remaining two Rangers pulled their weapons from thin air, one wielding a wicked curved scythe with a sword hilt on the end, the other holding a diamond-edged short sword in either hand.

"Hmm... Two--and a half--Rangers, versus me. Hardly fair odds. Of course, the odds don't much matter to you two, do they? You think like a villian, if you see an opening, you take advantage of it. I respect that."

"I'm moved," the Gold Ranger said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're respect means a lot to me. Really."

"Are you going to fight us and die now, or go away and die later?" The Silver Ranger asked. "I'd like to get this over with. I've got a date."

Ornyk tilted his head, not used to talking to Rangers who didn't heartily object to being flattered by the 'villian'. Most tended to take it as an insult, which was, of course, the entire point. Interesting. Very interesting.

Ornyk snapped his fingers and became a ball of blue flames, but, just before his head was engulfed, Deacon, acting on impulse, swung his sword, neatly severing the chain that held Ornyk's compass. The magical locator fell to the ground as Ornyk shot across the sky.

Jareth walked over and picked it up, leaving Deacon to pick up Myk.

"Hey. This'll look good up on my bedroom wall," Jareth said.

"Hey! I'm the one who got it from Dog Boy before he flew off."

"We can't keep that thing!" Myk said, finally standing on his own. "It's evil!"

"What makes you say that?"

"It was... It belonged to..."

"I don't think Ornyk created it," Jareth said. "I think he found it."

"It's not good or evil, it just points to the artifact he was looking for?" Deacon guessed.

Jareth nodded. "And I'd be willing to bet that the thing it points to isn't good or evil either. Not in and of itself, anyway. Just in how it's used."

Myk considered. "If it's good, we should claim it. If it's evil, we should take it, try to destroy it, at least keep it out of evil hands."

"And if it's neutral, then we should, umm, keep it from those who would misuse it's power?" Jareth asked.

"Yes... I suppose you're right."

"Happy now?"

Myk nodded.

"Good. Let's go."

* * *

Angel released his Zord's death grip on the monsters arm, allowing himself to be thrown through the air and coming to a half-decent landing in the middle of the street. He reached over and punched a button on his control panel.

The sharp, cresent-shaped blade that was the Wolf's tail detached and went spinning off in the direction of the gargantuan creature, slicing into it's shoulder. The monster screamed, more in anger than actual pain, and took an angry step towards the Wolf.

With one gnarled hand, it pulled the tailblade from its shoulder and snapped it in half. The other it raised, pointing at the Wolf. As it lifted its arm, the creature's flesh shifted like putty, its hand taking the shape of a massive cannon. It fired off a blast of energy, but as it did, a crecent of golden light struck it square in the chest, knocking it off balance and spoiling it's aim. The Wolf leapt aside as the blast tore through to concrete beneath it, it's internal systems replicating a new tail as it did so.

A huge purple hammerhead shark swam down from above, another arc of gold energy forming along the front of it's crecent-shaped head and launching off towards the monster. The beast roared, bringing its weapon to bear on the Hammerhead zord, but abruptly found itself lying on its back, its legs swept out from under it.

The massive crocodile zord completed it's circle, withdrawing its tail spikes. From its cockpit, Fox opened a communications channel.

"Can we make the Megazord now?"

"Do we really need it?" Angel asked, pelting the monster with laser blasts from Wolf's eyes.

"No, not really... But I wanna make the Megazord!"

Kalen rolled her eyes in her helmet. "Fine," she said, and reached over, keying the Megazord codes into her console.

* * *

"Dreams to dream,

in the dark of the night,

when the world goes wrong,

I can still make it right,

I can see, so far in my dreams--"

"Jareth?" Myk asked, gritting his teeth.

"Yes?"

"Stop singing." Jareth had been singing for miles, and his voice, while fairly good, tended to grate after a while, especially when he got into the Disney songs.

"Oh, a music critic. Lovely. Shall I tell jokes instead?"

Deacon grinned under his helmet. "Oh, please do."

"Very well. A lesbian, a nun, and a sanitation worker walk into a bar..."

"Jareth?"

"Yes, Myk?"

"Sing."

"My pleasure."

Jareth lapsed back into his song, checking the compass to be sure they were going in the right direction. They were, but there was nothing but sand as far as the Power-enhanced eye could see. Whatever they were after, it was a long way off.

Jareth did a quick count to make sure he knew enough songs to last the trip.

* * *

Aside from the color, the Mastadon Dinozord and the Elephant Dinozord had very few differences. One of these was that while the Elephant's trunk fired an incredidibly powerful and focused laser pulse, the Mastadon's fired a beam of concentrated cryogenic energy powerful enough to crystalize a large building.

This beam narrowly missed Tyrranosaur's head as it shot across the sky and iced one of the fighters, which then fell like a rock, smashing into several thousand fragments on the concrete below. Above, the Pterodactyl zord performed a truly remarkable series of arial manuevers, shooting down not two, but three of the fighter jets.

Dragonzord unleashed a score of missiles, destroying two more, and the Triceratops unleashed a stream of electrical energy from its horns, disrupting the circuitry of another fighter and causing it to spiral into the nearest building.

Not to be outdone, Tommy opened Tyranosaur's mouth and let loose a ribbon of fire, melting yet another of the alien jet fighters to slag in midair.

"Eight down," Mara reported, "Six to go."

The saber-toothed Tiger leapt atop a nearby building and carefully leveled its tail at the regrouping jets, firing a pencil-thin beam of energy which lanced out, breaking their formation and bringing down another.

Something clicked in Tommy's head. "Where's the White Ranger?"

"Titanus is too big to manuever in the city streets, so he's off rounding people up and into the shelters. Don't worry about him," Electra's voice replied. Her zord iced yet another fighter, bringing the total down to four.

Tommy deployed the Tyranosaur's flametongue again, but missed. "I think these things are getting smarter," Tommy said.

"They are," Mara replied, "They're scouts. They're designed to analyze our techniques, then download that info into bigger, badder monsters. We have to be careful not to let any get away, or the next baddie we fight will be that much worse."

As she spoke, the Pink Ranger gunned down yet another, until only two remained.

One fighter, winged by a stray bast, crashed into the street and skidded to a halt, but its blinking lights and still-firing weapons indicated that it was still operating. Its aiming mechanism seemed damaged, though, as it kept firing at the same mailbox. Tommy simply stomped on it.

The final fighter, registering that it was the only remaining one in it's squadron, turned about and shot into the air, heading for deep space.

"Mara?" The Blue Ranger--Jared?--said.

"On it." Pterodactyl shot into the sky, lasers lancing out as she tried to lock on to the fighter.

The two were soon out of sight above the clouds. Moments later, a single craft fell through the crowd cover: Pterodactyl, leaving behind a thick trail of black smoke and approaching the ground at an increasingly unsafe speed.

"Umm, guys? Little help?" Mara was clearly trying not to sound too panicked.

Tommy, with the help of his computer, calculated her angle and positioned Tyranosaur to intercept her. At the last possible moment, he leapt up, catching the damaged Zord squarely in the chest, but also breaking its fall. The force of the impact shattered several windows in the vicinity and knocked the Tyranosaur back several hundred feet, tearing great gouges in the concrete, but a greater calamity had been averted.

"Phew. Thanks, Tommy."

"What happened?"

"He slowed down so that I shot past him, then took out my lateral stabilizer. I should have seen it coming."

"Let's get back to the Oasis," the Green Ranger said. Lolli? Her name was Lolli?

For the first time, he doubted the information the power provided.

* * *

"Huh. Wasn't expecting THAT."

Deacon glanced over at Jareth. "No? What were you expecting?"

"Maybe a pyramid? I dunno. Certainly not a big stone igloo."

For the structure they stood before was, in fact, a big stone igloo.

"There must be a way in," Myk said. "Deacon, you circle it to the right, Jareth, you go left. See if there's an entrance."

"What about you?" Deacon asked.

"I'll... Supervise," Myk replied.

Jareth and Deacon exchanged a slightly exhasperated glance, then rolled their eyes and started off in their seperate directions.

Myk tapped the side of his helmet, opening a communications channel to the Oasis. "Zord-1? I need a Turbo Navigator."

Moments later, a firey missile shot through the air, plummeting to the ground with a sand-muffled THUD a few thousand yards away.

Grumbling, Myk set off to retrieve it.

* * *

The Crocodile Dinozord's rear legs extended out behind it, them bent in such a way that the body of the Zord was upright, its head pointing towards the sky. Its forelegs swiveled back, revealing a pair of cyllindrical connection ports. The Hammerhead zord swam down into position and locked onto one of these ports, so that its tooth-filled mouth formed a hand, and the Wolf, after carefully folding away its legs, did the same. Finally, the crocodile's head folded down, forming a chestplate, and a humanoid head emerged from the mechanism, glaring balefully at the monster, which now seemed positively tiny.

Inside the control Chamber, the three Rangers sat at their stations.

"Predator Megazord online," Angel said.

Kalen tapped the same two buttons back and forth, demonstrating her boredom and at the same time causing the Megazord to twirl it's staff. It was hard to say just who did what in a Megazord. Sometimes it seemed as though the entire group had but one mind, and automatically knew what everyone else was thinking, like the way they seemed to become one with their own zords, but on a larger scale. And so it was hard to say who's decision it was to kick the monster square in the stomach, or who brought the staff -- the tail of the crocodile -- down directly on it's head.

There was no question, however, that it was Fox who kneed the beast right between the legs.

* * *

Jareth and Deacon made their way back to the front of the dome (assuming the dome had a front) to meet with Myk. Neither had found anything that could have been an entrance. They found the Bronze Ranger making adjustments and fiddling with the buttons and knobs of a small, hand-held device.

"Turbo Navigator?" Deacon asked. "Good idea."

"What's a Turbo Navigator?" Jareth asked.

"If you didn't go out of your way to avoid using the Turbo powers so often--" Myk began.

"I don't like cars."

"--Then you'd know that the Turbo navigator is a scanning, tracking and locating device specifically designed for just such occasions."

"And anyway," Jareth continued, though no one was listening anymore. ""It's not as though I GET a Turbo Zord, even if I were willing to use it. There are only the five, you know."

"Any signs of a way in?" Deacon asked.

"Well, yes. But it's buried. A few thousand yards of sand."

"Umm, guys?" Jareth called, having wandered a fair way off.

"I guess we'll have to dig."

"It'd be easier if we had some tools..."

"Guys?"

"You think our weapons would work?"

"Yours might, it's a sword. Mine's no good, though."

"You're very good at getting out of doing things, you know that?"

"GUYS!"

Deacon and Myk turned.

"Come look at this."

The two trudged through the sand to where Jareth stood. He was holding out the golden compass in his golden hand, and it still pointed the way it had, but Jareth had moved a few yards to the right, and it no longer pointed at the igloo at all.

"The igloo was never our destination," he said. "It just happenned to be in our way."

Deacon gazed along the enchanted arrows path, and saw nothing but sand and the horizon.

"Dammit," he said.

No one disagreed.

* * *

Tommy and the rest of his team teleported back onto the bridge of the Oasis. A few demorphed so as to better relax in the plush, reclining chairs provided, others, like Tommy, smply removed their helmets and glanced up at the screen.

"Anything else come up, Zordo--Zord One?"

"No, nothing yet, Tommy. What did you almost call me?"

"Zordon," Tommy said, slightly abashed. "Force of habit."

"I know Zordon."

"The Zordon of this dimension?"

"No, Red Ranger, he doesn't exist in this dimension, or any other. He's what we like to call a Gatehopper: A being that has no dimension of his own, or has forgotten it if he had, and is capable of transversing dimensions at will. I met him once, when he visited this realm some 300,000 Terran years ago."

"300,000 years?"

"317,567 years, 10 months, 3 weeks, 2 days, 14 hours, 12 minutes and 37 seconds, actually, but part of my regular human emulation is not to sound too technical in casual conversation."

Tommy nodded slowly.

There was a flash as three more teleport signatures appeared in the room: Grey, Purple, and Camoflauge.

"The deed is done," Angel said, demorphing. He turned to Tommy. "How'd you guys do?"

"57% damage to Pterodactyl, 7% damage to Tyrranosaurus, an estimated total of 17 hours worth of repairs," Zord-1 answered. "Drone should be pleased, he's had little to do lately."

"Drone?" Tommy asked, the name ringing a faint bell.

"One of Zord-1's assistants," Fox answered. "He has three: Pilot, the little talking laptop-thing, Diskette, the little talking hovering thing, and Drone, who rolls around on tank treads. He's like the maintenance man around here."

"And an excellent job he does," Zord-1 said.

Tommy nodded, recalling the construct that had changed his sheets.

"How about the others?" Kalen asked offhandedly, retrieving a soda from a wall dispenser. "Back yet?"

"I'm afraid not, and I would worry, but Myk recently contacted me and asked for a Turbo Navigator. I presume that they are looking for something, perhaps the artifact Ornyk was after. I could bring them up on the main screen, if you wish to monitor them."

Tommy nodded, and the screen lit up, showing the three rangers trudging across the desert, their mettalic armor gleaming in the fading sunlight. A moment later the sound came on.

Tommy blinked. "Disney music?"

* * *

"Hey guys, look what I can do!" Jareth called. As soon as he was sure they were paying attention, he brought out his scythe and turned it upside down, so that the sword hilt faced upwards, the Lion's head on the end blinking amusedly. Tracing his fingers back and forth between the shaft of the scythe and the blade, Jareth left behind a glowing strands of golden light. Once there were enough, he ran his hand along them and produced a sound as though he were strumming a harp.

"Great," Myk said. "Now he has an instrument."

Jareth plucked out a simple tune, and sang a few notes in harmony with them--not a bad sound.

"Hey, Kira, why don't you sing along?"

The Lion's head atop the hilt blinked in surprise. "I don't know the words."

"There aren't any yet. Just go for the notes." Jareth sang the note again. Kira sang along, managing fairly well. By the time the sun finally went down and frozen winds began to blow across the sands, Deacon and Myk were practically being serenaded.

Eventually a shape appeared on the horizon. As they drew closer, it came into focus: a massive statue of a hideous ogre and a fearsome dragon, locked together in mortal combat. When they came even closer, they realized that it was much larger than it had seemed from afar. Jareth, the tallest of the three, barely came up to the ogre's disgustingly detailed toe.

Deacon took a step forward, and his boot clicked on something more solid than sand. Leaning over, he brushed some sand from the ground, revealing a smooth slab of stone into which intricate marking had been carved.

"Hey, guys. Look at this."

"Looks like writing," Jareth said. "What do you think it says?"

Myk keyed a few buttons into the navigator, then shook his head. "No translation available."

"I can read it," Kira said.

"What does it say?"

"Eons hidden, deep below

through centuries of ice and snow,

There lies a horror none must know

A blade of pain and blight.

And hidden there to guard it's rest

a power lies within this nest

A warrior proven, best of best

Within the blade of light.

And now that this be read and known

Let none enter Scepter's Throne

Break not the balance set in stone

Be warned, and taketh flight."

There was a pause as everyone absorbed this.

"Dr. Seuss?" Jareth asked.

"I really doubt it," Kira replied. "I think we should just head on home."

"I agree," Deacon said. "Let's do what the nice inscription says and NOT wake up the ancient evil, kay?"

"The Blade of Light...," Myk said, sounding mystified.

"What?" Jareth asked.

"Just think. This place--Scepter's Throne? It's been here for ages. If that sword is powerful enough to hold back that evil for this long, imagine what it could do if it were to be used agaist the evil that's out there today? Imagine what it could do in the hands of a Power Ranger."

"I don't see what difference it makes," Jareth said. "Unless you can find a way to get in."

"I know how to get in," Kira said. "It's written in the inscriptions. But I really wish you'd--"

"How?" Myk asked.

Kira sighed. "Just say 'Sikanda', and the door will--"

There was a deep rumbling sound, and the stone slab split apart, spreading apart to reveal a staircase descending into the deep abyss below.

"Are we really going down there?" Deacon asked.

Myk nodded, already walking down the stairs. Jareth glanced at Deacon, shrugged, and followed.

Deacon gave one last look up at the massive statues above the entrance, shuddered, and began making his way down into Scepter's Throne.

Chapter 2

Tue, 10 Apr 2007 15:37:12 GMT

Tommy entered the ship's lounge... And walked right into the middle of an argument.

"No, no, no."

"Yes."

"Can't be."

"It's true."

"Really?"

"I'm telling you. It's made of mold."

"It doesn't TASTE like mold."

"Have you ever tasted mold?"

"Umm..."

Tommy strolled over to the circular couch and glanced down over the back. Jareth was there, and sitting opposite him was a young man dressed in black, blue, and gray.

"Oh, hey, Tommy."

"Tommy? This the one you told me about?"

"Yeah, this is him. Tommy, this is Deacon. He's the Silver Ranger."

"Nice to meet you," Tommy said.

"Likewise. Care to settle an arguement?"

"Umm... Sure."

"Is blue cheese made of mold?" Jareth asked.

Tommy blinked. "THIS is what you're arguing about?"

"Yep," Deacon replied. "So? What's your verdict?"

"I... Have no idea. Why not ask Zord-1?"

"Good idea. Zord-1?"

The speaker mounted in the cieling clicked on. "While blue cheese is not made of mold, certain kinds of mold are used in the process that creates blue cheese."

"I win," Deacon said.

"Damn."

"So, have you met any of the other Rangers, Tommy?" Deacon asked.

"No, just you two."

"That'll change. Red Ranger is on the day shift."

"What?"

"Thirteen Rangers is a bit much to mobilize at one time, so we have teams. Shifts. White, Green, Black, Blue, Yellow, Pink, and Red are the day shift," Jareth said, ticking them off on his fingers. "Although Green and White tend to get paired off for seperate missions a lot. Not sure why."

"Oh. And the others are night shift?"

"Not all of us. Just Deacon, Myk and I."

"Mike?"

"Not Mike, Myk," Jareth corrected, somehow managing to convey the difference in spelling. "He's the Bronze Ranger. Goofy superhero armor, attitude to match. He even wears a cape."

Tommy realized what color the superman-ranger from the portrait was supposed to be. "Gold, Silver, Bronze. Makes sense."

"And the other three are relief. Purple, Camoflauge, and Gray."

"Camoflauge? You have a Camo Ranger?"

"Yep."

"You'll meet her eventually," Deacon said. "And then you'll wish you hadn't."

Jareth laughed. "Those three step in when we need extra manpower, or one of us is wounded... You know. Things like that."

"I see. Sounds like a good system."

"It's worked so far."

Jareth kicked back, resting his feet on the table. He glanced over at Deacon, who was getting himself another soda.

"So," the Gold Ranger said. "What do you think Jell-o is made of?"

Chapter 1

Tue, 10 Apr 2007 15:22:04 GMT

Alarms blared throughout the ship, signifying the presence of an intruder. Diskette beeped in alarm, spinning in midair on her miniature hover-jets. She shot down the hall towards the bridge, the doors opening automatically in front of her and closing in her wake.

Among the control panels and readouts of the bridge sat a single, pulsating sphere, and from this sphere emanated a deep, mellow voice.

"Diskette, please contact one of the rangers. Any one will do."

"Yes, Zord-1." Diskette floated over to the communications console and, extending an arm of sorts, began to type away at it.

"Is something wrong? The alarms-"

"Merely an automatic function. There is indeed something wrong, but it is not terribly dangerous to us."

Diskette brought up a readout of the current time. It was 4:17 AM, EST. Only two or three Rangers were likely to be awake, and only one would have nothing better to do. She hit the Send key.

A series of six familiar notes rang out, followed by a surprised sounding "Hello?"

"Jareth, could you report to the bridge, please? We may have a problem."

Moments later, a shaft of golden light flew down from the ceiling, materializing into a young man about six feet tall, with long, dark hair and piercing green eyes.

"What's the problem, Zord-1?" he asked.

"There is an intruder aboard the ship, Gold Ranger," the sentient computer program intoned.

"Why not just teleport it off?"

"It is not that simple. This intruder has found himself here by accident, rather than by his own free will. Furthermore, he is a Ranger."

Jareth nodded, then did a double-take. "Beg pardon?"

"He is a Ranger. A remarkable Ranger at that. No other in the history of over three million dimensions has ever held such a wide array of powers over the course of his career as a Ranger."

"Not one of ours, then. All right, I'll see if I can find him, and bring him up to talk to you."

"I have already spoken to him, and explained the situation," The computer informed him. "He is prepared to come peacefully. I simply wish you to lead him here."

"Couldn't you have Diskette do that?"

"I could, but I believe it would be more comforting to have a fellow human with whom he could talk. Remember, he is displaced, lost not in space or time, but in the dimensional continuum, which is infinitely more complex."

If Jareth hadn't spent so much of his youth deeply immersed in science fiction novels, he might never have understood any of this. As it was, he understood very little, and didn't care to ask the computer to elaborate.

"All right. I'll go get him then. What's his name?"

"You will find him in one of the storage chambers on deck 37," Zord-1 said. "His name... is Tommy Oliver."

* * *

"So you don't have a leader?" Tommy asked, incredulous, as Jareth keyed in his order on the food dispenser in the ship's lounge.

"Nope," Jareth replied, accepting an orange soda from the slot in the bottom of the machine. "You want something? All you have to do is type it in."

Tommy walked up and started typing.

"No. We don't have a leader," Jareth continued. "We basically just blow things up. It was harder back when Zedd-"

"Zedd? He's still around here?"

Jareth looked at him curiously. "Yeah. He's the only one to ever threaten the planet, in this dimension. Anyway, back when he actually thought up complicated plans, then things were trickier. But lately, it's like he's not even trying. We just blow up what he sends and go home."

"So what kind of Zords do you pilot?"

"Depends on the situation," Jareth answered. "We've got four or five different sets of powers, each one designed for a certain environment. On land, we usually use our Standard powers." Jareth twisted his wrist, and his Power Morpher appeared in a flash of golden light. It looked just like the morphers Tommy remembered, except that Jareth's Power Coin was embossed with the head of a Lion. "But if, say, the enemy is magic-resistant, and we've run into a few, then we use our Turbo Powers."

"Turbo Powers?" Tommy flicked his own wrists, and a morpher appeared that resembled a gear shift attached to an ignition.

"Yeah, that's it," Jareth said, taking another swig of soda. "Only the standard five get those, though."

"Standard five?"

"Green, Pink, Blue, Yellow, Red. Which are you?"

"Red."

"Thought so. It's all you're wearing. The rest of us get different morphers for the Turbo Set."

"But the Turbo Powers shouldn't work against a magic-resistor," Tommy protested. "They're magical. I mean, they draw power from the Zeo Crystal, right?"

"Yes. But it's not the source that counts, it's the application. Or something. I'm not really sure," Jareth confessed. "Zord-1 handles all the details."

"Doesn't that make Zord-1 your leader?"

"No. He's a computer. He does what he's told, within certain perameters."

"What parameters?"

"Well, his first priority is to safeguard the Power. The weapons, the Zords, all that... He protects it, acts as its Guardian. His second priority is to do what we tell him. So if we told him to fry Washington DC, he'd do it, but if we told him to fry one of our own Zords, he wouldn't."

"That is an oversimplification," Zord-1's voice intoned from the wall.

Tommy jumped. Jareth laughed. "Zord-1 is the ship's computer. He sees everything that goes on onboard, and has all these speakers and stuff. You get used to it."

"That's dangerous, though. What if one of you were placed under a spell or something, and told him to-"

"It's happened before. Our Black Ranger was possessed once, and told Zord-1 to destroy most of California. Zord-1 saw right through her, and refused to do it."

Tommy nodded thoughtfully. The computer clearly wasn't a mindless machine. Then he double-taked. "Her?"

"Your Black Ranger's a guy?"

Tommy nodded.

"Ours is a girl. Electra. You'll meet her." Jareth tossed his empty soda can at a square metal panel set into the wall. The panel opened like a laundry chute, catching the can, then slid closed.

"And then," Jareth continued, "we've got another set of Zords specifically designed for going out into space. Lots of fun, but if you get blown up out in space, you're pretty much screwed. You could drift forever before Zord-1 managed to get a lock on your location and send someone after you. Too far for teleportation, see. He can only handle teleportation planetside. Or rather, he can teleport you TO just about anywhere, it's getting you back that's tricky." Jareth considered for a moment. "Of course, I guess if you had another Zord that could handle space, you could just call it to come and get you. That should work."

"Interesting. Where do you keep them all? Zord Holding Bay? Turbo Garage?"

"Good question. I never thought to ask. Zord-1?"

"The Zords are stored in the Zord Deployment Bay," the wall replied. "It is on deck 42. Perhaps you would like a tour?"

Tommy shrugged. "Sure."

* * *

Zord-1's directions led them to an elevator whose brushed steel doors opened as they approached. Jareth entered, followed by Tommy. The elevator lurched, then began to descend.

"In a moment, the lights will go out. They will be out for approximately three seconds. Please do not be alarmed."

Sure enough, the elevator was plunged into darkness. The lighting flickered, then returned.

Before them stood an array of massive, gleaming metal creations, some shaped like animals, others simply vehicles. The two humans felt like gnats.

"I keep forgetting how big they are."

"They never seem as big when you're morphed," Jareth said. "Probably because you can jump right over them."

"How big must this ship be to hold them all like this?"

Jareth frowned. "Good question. I've seen the Oasis--"

"The what?"

"This ship. It's called the Oasis. I've seen it from the outside. It's about the size of an aircraft carrier. There's no way these all fit inside."

"Then... How?"

"Molecular compression," Zord-1's voice intoned from above.

"Molecular compression? You mean they shrunk?"

"Indeed. While in storage, the Zords are compressed to between three and twelve inches in height."

"They look full size to me," Tommy said.

"That is because you, too, have been compressed."

"The elevator?" Jareth asked.

"It is a mechanism for translation. You are both now approximately a quarter of an inch tall."

"Ummmm."

"Let's go back to the lounge."

* * *

"And that's it. Zord-1'll find a way for you to get home. I'll be seeing you."

"You're leaving?"

"Sun's coming up. I must return to the safety of my crypt, lest the light of day reduce me to ash."

"You're a vampire?"

"I'm lucky, but not that lucky. No, I'm just your run-of-the-mill nocturnal human." Jareth yawned. "See you." In a flash, the Gold Ranger has teleported off the ship.

"Tommy," Zord-1 said. "Shall I show you to your quarters?"

Tommy considered, then nodded. "I could use some sleep.

* * *

There was no telling, in his windowless room, how long Tommy had slept. He got out of bed, stretched, then looked around. To his relief, there was a bathroom adjoining his quarters, which consisted of a bed, desk, chair and dresser. After making use of the facilities and having a shower, Tommy returned to find his clothes, which he had carelessly tossed into the corner, lying in a neatly folded pile on the counter next to the sink. He reached over and picked up his shirt. It had been cleaned, and very well cleaned at that. It was even dryer-warm. Zord-1 must have cleaned them while he was showering.

Now, how had he done that? Had snakelike metal tentacles with attached mechanical claws come out of the walls and taken them off to some cleaning facility? Had the computer just teleported them there? Or had they been bombarded with some atomic ray that cleaned them, and then brought them to life so they could fold themselves?

Grinning at that last thought as he pulled them on, Tommy stepped from the bathroom to his room--and found a small mechanical construct, about waist-high with a dome-shaped head, changing the bedspread. Well, that explained that.

The droid, ignoring Tommy, turned and left the room, the door opening for him.

Curious, Tommy followed it. It turned a corner and, inserting itself into a slot in the wall perfectly countoured to it's shape, slid straight down into the floor.

"Huh. Wonder where it went."

"Having completed his daily chores on the habitat level, Drone has gone to the Zord Deployment Bay to run daily Maintenance on the Zords," Zord-1's voice rang out from the ceiling, startling Tommy once again.

"Morning, Zord-1."

"Good morning, Tommy. Was the room to your liking?"

"It could use a little decoration, But yes, it was fine."

"Please, come to the bridge."

"Where--"

"Follow the sound of my voice," Zord-1 said, his voice seeming to move down the hall. Tommy assumed he was simply talking continuously, and merely switching one speaker off and the next one on to simulate movement in a particular direction.

"The reason I ask about the room, apart from mere courtesy, is that I have been pondering the best way to return you to your home dimension."

"And?"

"And, I have found very little. Now, you claim that you were simply minding your own business, then there was...?"

"A bright flash of red light, and then I was in that storeroom."

"Yes, that collaberates my suspicions."

"Suspicions?"

"I have one idea, only one, regarding what may have brought you here. If it turns out to be true, then I also have one idea regarding how to restore you."

"And that is?"

"I prefer not to say just now. Regardless, if it is the case, then it will take some time to accomplish. And if it is not, then it will take still more time to find the actual cause. Regardless, you are likely to be here for quite some time. Thus, I sincerely hope that the room is to your liking."

"Oh." Tommy changed the subject. "A machine can hope?"

"Certainly. I may not be capable of most emotions, but I have no trouble at all hoping. A computer is created for a certain purpose. It is instilled with the desire to fulfill that purpose. Thus, it hopes for those certain conditions to be met that will enable it's purpose to be fulfilled. Hope is perhaps the one truly universal emotion."

"I see."

"The bridge isn't far now. Continue down this passage, and take the next door to which you come." Zord-1's voice stopped there.

Tommy continued down the passage until he came to the door, which slid open of it's own accord.

The room he entered was apparently the bridge. It was circular, with the front half of thew wall occupied by a massive rectangular window. The bridge was split-level, most of the room was recessed. Consoles and control panels abounded, and evenly spaced about the curving wall were wonderfully painted portraits of each of the thirteen Power Rangers. On the floor was a large, stylized X, clearly the symbol of this particular group of Power Rangers.

Intruiged, Tommy looked more closely at the portraits. While all obviously belonging to the same set, no two Ranger costumes looked quite alike. The Black Ranger was indeed female, and her suit resembled that of a ninja or an assassin, or some combination of the two. The Gold Ranger's helmet had an actual mane, and he wore a trenchcoat whose sleeves vanished halfway down his arms, becoming one with his gauntlets. The Purple Ranger's armor resembled a wetsuit, the Gray Ranger had a cloak, and one, a color Tommy couldn't immediately identify, was dressed somewhat like Superman. One of the frames, however, stood empty. Judging by the color of the frame it should have held the painting of the Red Ranger.

A pulsating orb set into the nearest control panel caught his attention.

"Welcome to the bridge, Tommy. Tell me, does anything in this room strike you as odd?"

Tommy looked around once again. "No, it's more or less what I expected. Except for the portraits."

"Their presence surprises you?"

"No, even that's not too strange. It's just that one's missing."

"Precisely. Tommy, we are missing a Ranger. Namely, the Red Ranger."

"Why didn't you just choose someone?"

"I don't claim to have any knowledge of how these things work in your world, Tommy, but here, the Coin chooses the Ranger. While the other twelve coins found suitable hosts and seem well satisfied, the Red Power Coin has never responded. To anyone. We've done sweeps of the planet, even of the galaxy. Nothing."

"So how do you get by without a Red Ranger?"

"We've managed, and managed fairly well, so far. But this can only last so long. Jareth told you that Zedd has been thoughtless in his attcks lately?"

"Yes...."

"It is my belief that Lord Zedd is planning for a massive strike against the planet. I believe the Coins know this also."

"Then the Red Coin...."

"Would have been pressed to find someone it found worthy. Not finding anyone on Terra, the planet we now orbit, nor elsewhere within it's range, it began searching other dimensions."

"Are you saying the Red Power Coin brought me here?"

"Yes. Your arrival has the Red Coin's proverbial fingerprints all over it."

"So... I'm your new red Ranger?"

For an answer, one of the nearby panels swung around, revealing a panel of black velvet with thirteen rectangular slots in it. Twelve were empty, but one held a silver, oblong device that Tommy recognized as a Power Morpher. As he drew closer, Tommy recognized the gold coin in the center, engraved with the image of a Tyranosaurus Rex.

Suddenly, the coin began to shine a violent crimson. A ray of scarlet light shot forth from the coin, pointing right at Tommy's heart.

"The coin has indeed chosen you," Zord-1 said. "The only question remaining is, do you accept?"

"Accept?"

"The coin will not force itself on you. You must accept it."

"Oh... What happens if I refuse?"

"I am uncertain. The coin may return you to your own world, or it may ignore you entirely."

"Oh."

"While I do not wish to unduly influence your decision, Tommy, I will not lie. The coin brought you here for a reason, you are indeed needed."

Tommy stared at the morpher for a moment. He swallowed. "I accept."

The morpher vanished from it's slot in a flash of scarlet light.

"Welcome to the family, Red Ranger," the sentient computer intoned.