—

A few blocks from SPD headquarters is a small park, an oasis of green in the middle of Newtech City. I come here to remind myself of what I’m fighting for, of what I’ve sworn to protect.

Here, I can see people of every species co-existing peacefully. Two joggers pass by my bench, one human and one from Triforia. A bit further away, I see three children playing in a sandbox; one is an alien with green scales, another a human girl with curly pig-tails.

The last one is a little boy who seems familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on why.

It’s been nine years since I first came to earth and so much has changed. Entire ranger teams have come and gone, each followed by a new team of young, idealistic cadets. The only constant seems to be Kat Manx, who is now one of my oldest friends.

It’s easy to fall into a routine of planning, organizing, fighting and then all three again. Newtech City is always moving, always changing. There’s always some new threat on the horizon, some battle to win.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that it won’t be like this forever. I don’t know how much time we have left, but I intend to make the most of it.

I look back at the sandbox. One of the children has wandered off to the nearby swing-set, leaving the others behind. As I watch, the little girl playfully throws a handful of sand and the boy scatters it away, with a sweeping blue shield.

And now, of course, I know why he looks so familiar. I’ve seen many strange and unusual things, but humans with super-powers are few and far between.

A tall, slim woman comes to sit beside me, and for a while we sit in silence, watching these children, the future of earth, playing together – and among them, a little boy with a very special gift.

She has long brown hair, with streaks of gray. I had never noticed the gray before – either it really has been that long, or the last few years have been harder on her than I realized. I’m not one to complain, though – we’re all a little older, a little harder. I can see it when I look in the mirror, and in her eyes.

“Commander,” she says, placing her hands in her lap. She covers the left with the right, every movement carefully planned and calculated.

I nod in acknowledgment. “Sarah…”

“You have no right to call me that, Commander.”

“I apologize, Mrs. Tate.”

As I watch, Sky does it again. He creates those shields with such ease – it comes naturally to him, so much so that he doesn’t notice it as anything extraordinary.

He has his father’s eyes and his smile.

“Not a day goes by when he doesn’t ask about his father. He misses him,” she tells me.

There are a thousand things I could say. I could say that her husband, Sky’s father, died fighting for an important cause, a cause he believed in. I could say that he died in the line of duty, following my orders. I could tell her that all of us, every single one, have lost someone important. That excuse sounds hollow, even to my ears. I look back at Sky, and briefly wonder if he would understand.

Of course he wouldn’t. He’s six and a half years old.

I settle for the easy route, and change the topic. “How have you been, Mrs. Tate?”

She shrugs. “Life moves on. I have to accept it, and I have.”

Trust is a strange and fragile thing, hard to earn, and even harder to regain once broken. In our experimentation with the morphing grid, we developed a powerful weapon – and in the process lost some of our greatest scientists.

Of them all, Sarah stayed the closest, but not out of choice. Her husband was a ranger and, using the technology she helped develop, fought to defend the Earth. Sky’s birth and the discovery of his powers were a turning point, and after that, she wanted nothing to do with Space Patrol Delta. “Sky’s abilities – they’re a gift, you know.”

“It’s a curse. Do you think I want to be reminded, every day, of what happened? And Sky – he knows he’s different. He has questions… what am I supposed to tell him?”

“The truth?” I suggest. She shakes her head.

“My husband respected you, admired you. But you’re not infallible, Commander.”

I sit up straighter. “No, I’m not. But everything I’ve done, I’ve done because I felt it was necessary, to preserve to well-being of the Earth. Something’s coming, Mrs. Tate, and we have to be ready. It’s my job to make sure we are.”

“No matter how much it costs, or who it hurts?”

I nod. “No matter how much it costs.” For some reason, a vivid image of Isinia flashes before my eyes.

“I’m not one of your cadets, Commander. I’m a mother, and what’s most important for me is doing what’s best for my son. I’ve spoken to some of the others already – the Carsons will stay on Earth, I think, but the Landors will leave to the colonies.”

I sit in silence for a while, before asking the question which weighs most heavily on my mind. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because you are just like all the others. You look at that little boy there and you see a tool, a weapon you can mould and shape.” Sometimes, in moments like these, I wonder how well you can ever know a person. A few years ago, I would never have thought that Sarah would confront me, stand up to me when no one else would.

I try to meet her eye, but her gaze never strays from Sky.

“Do you know what I think, Commander? You want our children nearby, not out of any interest in their happiness or well-being, but so that you can control them and their powers.”

She expects me to argue with her, to disagree. I do neither. No matter how long or troubled my relationship with Sarah Tate is, I won’t lie to her. After everything she’s done, after everything she’s been through, she deserves better.

She studies me for a while, before getting to her feet.

“You took my husband from me, Cruger. I’m not going to let you take my son.” She inclines her head. “Goodbye, Commander.” The words have a terrible finality, and I wonder if I’ll see her or Sky ever again.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Tate.”

—

Chapter 1

—

Bridge knew the cadet on the left by reputation. Everybody knew who Sky Tate was, and not just because he was the highest-ranking cadet on D-squad. Rumor had it he was going to be red ranger one day, just like his father.

Looking at Sky, Bridge didn’t doubt that for a second. Sky stood stiffly, arms crossed tightly over his chest, evaluating his new teammate. Bridge felt like he was being judged and dismissed as unimportant, all in a span of a few seconds.

Bridge swallowed, and clutched his transfer orders a little tighter.

He had never spoken to the cadet on the right, but could recognize her anywhere. Sydney Drew was one of the prettiest girls in SPD, something which his roommates had mentioned several times once they learned he was going to be promoted to a squad.

“Hi, I’m…”

“Bridge Carson,” Sky interrupted, a scowl on his face. “You’re on my squad.” He gestured at the girl standing next to him. “This is Sydney Drew, she’s also on D-squad.”

“You can call me Syd.” She flashed him a dazzling smile. Bridge smiled shyly back. ‘Wait until I tell Boom about this. He won’t believe it. I mean, Sydney Drew smiled and spoke to me.’ Bridge shook his head, trying to wipe the dopey look from his face.

Sky sighed. Why did they leave him with the love-struck kid? This cadet couldn’t be a day older than thirteen. ‘Why couldn’t Dru…’ Sky refused to complete that thought. There was no point thinking about what might have been; Bridge had been promoted to his squad, and now he had to deal with it.

“Look,” Sky said, “this is how things are going to be. We were doing fine before you were promoted here, and we’ll do fine afterwards. Just try not to mess up too much, and everything will work out.”

“Oh… okay. I’ll try my best,” Bridge said. Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Sky turned sharply and left the room without a backwards glance. Unsure of what to do, Bridge settled for staring at the floor. He had dreamt for a long time about being promoted to D-squad, but he never thought it would go like this.

“Hey,” Syd said. “Don’t worry about Sky. His friend was supposed to be promoted to squad this year. Sky’s just a little bitter about it, that’s all.”

“What happened to him?”

“He got transferred,” she said, taking a good look at the new cadet. He seemed nervous, and very young. For some reason, the next question came out ahead of everything else she wanted to ask. “How old are you?” Syd blurted out.

Bridge didn’t seem to notice her social faux pas. “I’m fifteen.”

‘I wouldn’t have guessed that,’ Syd thought, and sighed. ‘He looks younger.’ Why did Sky always have to be so stubborn? “Look, Sky’s not really that bad. Just… be careful, okay? You’re new at this, and I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Then she left as well, leaving Bridge to wonder what she meant. ‘I’ll try my best, and prove to Sky that I deserve to be on this squad,’ Bridge decided. He had worked hard to get this far, and wasn’t about to throw it all away because of one grumpy cadet.

–

Bridge’s first training session on D-squad began poorly. Avoiding a near-collision with another cadet, Bridge ran through the hallways at a break-neck pace. However, by the time he reached the training grounds, Sky and Syd were already there and standing at attention.

Ivan, the A-squad yellow ranger, stood nearby with his clipboard. “You’re late,” he said, tapping his fingers impatiently. “This session was supposed to begin at four.”

Bridge glanced sideways at Sky’s watch. He was twenty seconds late. “I’m sorry, sir.” The ranger simply grunted a response. Bridge would never mention it to anyone, but there was just something about the A-squad rangers which creeped him out. It wasn’t just that they were harsh teachers, and often impatient with new trainees. It was something else, something more insidious and dangerous.

“Get in line,” The yellow ranger ordered. “This is a simple training exercise; even you should be able to handle it.” Ivan marked something on his clipboard before looking up. “Begin simulation.”

Bridge backed up a step, taking a defensive posture as over a dozen cyborgs materialized. Ducking to avoid a roundhouse kick, he grabbed one by the arm, shoving it away.

Something grabbed him from behind, and Bridge twisted to the side. His opponent, however, was faster, and Bridge hit the ground hard. He managed to block the first punch, but the following kick caught him unawares.

Gasping for breath, Bridge rolled away. He tried to get to his feet, but was brought down by another kick. He covered his face protectively, and braced himself for the next blow. It never came.

“Get up!” Sky ordered, pulling Bridge to his feet. Making quick work of Bridge’s attacker, Sky was about to finish off another cyborg when the yellow ranger ended the simulation.

Ivan looked at each of them in turn, a long disdainful look that lingered on Bridge, and then Syd, before finally reaching Sky. “If this was real, you would all be dead by now.” His gaze returned to Bridge. “Especially you.”

“Sir,” Syd said. “It’s not his fault. He’s…”

The yellow ranger cut her off. “Don’t mess with me, Cadet Drew. The rest of my team is out on mission, and I’m stuck here training the rat squad. Now try it again.”

Bridge took a deep breath, and waited for the second wave of cyborgs to appear.

–

The next day was Monday, which meant that his first class was Exogeography, followed by Galactic Cultures. Both courses were mandatory for all trainees, and both required several particularly heavy textbooks. Bridge sat down slowly at the only open desk, sliding the books underneath his seat.

“Hey.” The boy sitting at the desk next to his leaned over to speak to him. “What’s it like being on a squad?”

“It’s okay,” Bridge said. He bent down to reach for his notebook, and every muscle in his body ached in protest. He bit back a groan. “It’s not that different from being a normal trainee, really.” It’s just harder, he added silently.

“But you’re not a trainee anymore. You’re a cadet.” His classmate eyed him jealously. “You’ve even got the uniform to prove it.”

“Yeah, but I still have to go to class, don’t I?”

The jealous boy simply shrugged.

“I wish I was on a squad,” said one girl, a dreamy expression on her face. She twirled a few strands of black hair between her fingers. “You’re so lucky.”

“I guess…” Bridge said, but really he was thinking about Sky. It was hard work, rather than luck, which had gotten him onto the squad, but it was clearly going to take both luck and a great deal of effort to stay there.

“Hey, don’t let it get to your head,” another classmate said, interrupting Bridge’s thoughts. He grinned mischievously. “What I really want to know is… what’s it like being on a squad with Sydney Drew?” The entire class giggled, and Bridge blushed bright red.

Their teacher entered the room, saving him from having to reply. A petite alien with blue skin and flowing green hair, she gave them all a stern look. “That’s enough, everyone. Take out your homework.”

After that point, the only sound in the classroom was the scratching of pens on paper, occasionally punctuated by their teacher’s even voice. Bridge scribbled down a page or so of notes, but soon began to doodle on the margins. He wasn’t normally so distracted, but today was different. ‘I have to train harder,’ He thought. ‘I’ll become a better fighter and prove to Sky that I belong on D-squad.’

–

Sky walked into his dorm room, ignoring the cadet sitting on the bunk across from him. There were two bunk beds in the room, and the top right one belonged to him. One of the desks was also his and every item on it, every piece of paper and pencil, was in perfect order.

The top bed on the other side belonged to his roommate, who was the lowest-ranking member of C-squad. His roommate was currently listening to his headphones, and the music was so loud that Sky could hear it from across the room.

He wondered when Bridge was going to move in. The newest member of his squad was probably anxious to move out of the trainee dorms, which meant that one of the two empty beds would soon belong to him.

It was probably going to be the one beneath his own, since he was lower ranked than his roommate, who would claim both beds on the other side as his own. Sky hoped that Bridge didn’t snore, sleepwalk or do anything else disruptive. Living with him was going to be hard enough as it was.

‘Why is that?’ A little voice asked. ‘You don’t even know him.’

‘I don’t have to know him,’ Sky shot back. ‘I just have to put up with him. And maybe, if I wait long enough, Dru will come back from the Nebula Academy and I won’t have to deal with any of this anymore.’

After all, if Dru had been transferred there, he could be transferred back… right?

–

He should have been packing his stuff, or maybe working on his homework. However, as Bridge saw it, a short break couldn’t hurt – especially when it involved toast. The rec room toaster, however, was inferior to the one in the cafeteria – this one had only two slots, which meant that it took Bridge several minutes to toast and butter all six slices of bread.

Syd was sitting on the other side of the room and, as soon as his toast was done, he walked over and sat next to her. Syd barely glanced at him; instead, she was fiddling with a clunky-looking datapad covered in pink, holographic stickers. “It’s my diary,” she explained, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’ve had it for years. It stopped working a few days ago – I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

“Can I take a look at it?” Bridge asked. He took a tiny screwdriver out of his pocket.

“Sure,” Syd said, but she didn’t sound so certain. She handed him the datapad, and Bridge set it down, carefully unscrewing the back panel. Syd watched curiously; Bridge’s hands were steady, and his work deft and confident . It was a side of him she had never seen before. “You’re pretty handy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Bridge replied. “It’s one of the things that got me in here, I think.”

“Is that your power?”

“Fixing things? Not really.” He replaced the back panel, and powered on the machine before handing it back to Syd. “I can read people’s auras, which means that I can tell how someone’s feeling, and whether they’re good or evil. I can also sometimes see what’s going to happen in the future, not the far future, but soon.”

“That’s cool,” Syd said, but Bridge could tell that she didn’t really understand. “Thanks,” she added, putting the datapad back in her bag. “Bridge, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little strange that all three of us have powers, and we’re all on the same squad?”

“I guess,” he said, and then frowned. “I’ve never really thought about it before.” It was kind of weird, but he couldn’t see how it could be anything more than a coincidence. It wasn’t like they knew each other before they came to SPD, right? He definitely didn’t know Sky before joining the squad. Bridge felt perversely grateful for that, a feeling which was followed by a surge of guilt.

“Don’t let Sky get to you,” Syd said. Bridge blinked in surprise. Were his feelings really that transparent? He was beginning to think that she was the psychic, instead of him! “I’m sure he’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“You think?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure of it.”

–

He made a few more stops before returning to his room – one to the mailroom, and another to the library to return an overdue book. Hurrying around the corner, Bridge took a large bite out of his final piece of toast.

He didn’t see the person coming around the corner until it was too late. The collision sent books, papers and a slice of toast flying. Recovering quickly, Bridge looked up – and cursed himself for being so careless. Of all the hundreds of people in SPD, why did he have to run into Sky?

“Uh… Sky, I didn’t see you, I’m sorry.” Bridge began to gather up his things. He picked up the toast with a sigh – as always, it had landed butter side down, and was now inedible, covered with a fine layer of dirt and grime.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Sky said, but his tone was insincere. He brushed off his uniform and turned to leave, but Bridge quickly got to his feet.

“Sky, wait.” The next words came out in a rush. “I know we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I think that if you gave me a chance we could make a good team. You wouldn’t know it, but we have lots in common like, um… we’re on the same squad and we both have powers and, I guess what I’m trying to say is that maybe we could be friends.”

Shy shook his head, his expression unchanged. “Look, it’s nothing personal. I don’t need any friends. Just try to stay out of my way, and I’ll try to stay out of yours.”

—

To Be Continued

—