The Storybook Dimension

See disclaimer.

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The Weakest Color

Chapter 1: And so it begins…

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Mora had been thinking. She thought, and thought. Her innocent looks and childish mannerisms concealed a cunning mind, and when she was not playing house, or having tea parties with Cindy, she often considered ways to defeat the Power Rangers, thereby ending the siege of Earth.

In the months they had been in orbit around the planet, Mora had grown increasingly bored. Gruumm had conquered entire galaxies in less time, and she found it personally galling that such a miserable, insignificant, backwater planet could prove such a challenge to the most feared alien in the universe.

At first she thought it would be easy. All they had to do was send a few mercenaries, and those pathetic SPD goons would fall before them, leaving the planet undefended. Such a plan had worked before; there was no reason to believe that it would fail now.

But these Rangers were more competent than those of the other planets. Against insurmountable odds, they had managed to defeat the Troobians time and time again.

She had heard that they were special, possessing unique genetic powers. But those alone could not account for their victories – and Mora had become convinced that the Rangers possessed something else, some other power that accounted for their astonishing success.

And so Mora searched, secretly watching the Rangers through her private view-screen, observing their lives, their habits, and their interactions.

And now, all of her studies had finally paid off, leading her to only one conclusion.

–

“I know something you don’t,” Mora sang, skipping around Emperor Gruumm’s skeletal throne.

Gruumm pointedly ignored her, lost in thought. Somewhere on the planet below, his arch-nemesis, Anubis Doggie Cruger, still lived, having escaped the destruction of Sirius. Cruger, who had continuously thwarted his every effort at galactic domination. Cruger, who trained the pesky Power Rangers. Cruger, who had taken his horn.

‘I will have my revenge, Anubis. You will pay!’ Gruumm clenched his fist in resolve, even as Mora completed another circuit around his throne, temporarily distracting him from his vengeful thoughts.

The arch-villain scowled, his eyes flashing with anger at the interruption. “I have little time for your games, Mora. Speak, or suffer the consequences!”

Mora paused and made a great show of pouting, an evil glint in her eyes. “I know that your monsters will never defeat the Power Rangers.”

Gruumm began to rise to his feet, fury at such insolence contorting his features.

Mora took an involuntary step backwards. “But,” she amended quickly, “I know who can.”

Broodwing laughed scornfully from the shadows of the room. “My lord,” he interrupted, “this child knows nothing. With a little more time (and a lot more money, he amended silently), I will be able to gather an army of powerful monsters, the likes of which this galaxy has never seen.”

Mora glared at the mercenary. She didn’t trust him. Actually, being an evil mastermind, she didn’t trust anyone, but she harbored a particular dislike for Broodwing. The promise of riches (and the threat of unbearable pain) had led the pictomancer to swear her loyalty to Gruumm, and thus her very future was dependent on his continued success.

Broodwing, on the other had, had no such attachments to the Troobian cause. Money was his sole interest, and Mora suspected that the treacherous alien was simply biding his time, engaged in a devious bid to snatch Earth from their grasp, and sell it to the highest bidder. Unfortunately, Gruumm did not share her opinion, and was completely confident of his ability to out-maneuver Broodwing. Mora was not so certain.

“Silence, Broodwing!” Gruumm growled. “You had many opportunities to eliminate the Power Rangers, and yet have failed me at every turn.”

Mora stuck her tongue out victoriously at Broodwing, who hissed and retreated behind the throne, furious at such disrespect. Ignoring the irate mercenary, Gruumm turned his attention back to Mora. “You have a plan,” he stated, leaning back into his throne. “Tell me.”

Mora clapped her tiny hands in delight. “Say please.”

“I am the emperor of the Troobians,” Gruumm retorted angrily, his voice steadily rising in volume. “I do not ask for things. I get them!”

“Fine,” she replied flippantly, rolling her eyes at such recalcitrance. “Then I guess you don’t want to know.”

Gruumm glared at her, his eyes glowing like coals. “Do not test my patience, child.” Mora simply shrugged, and resumed her skipping, humming an inane tune under her breath. “Please.” He grated, conceding defeat.

Mora smiled brightly. “Well,” she said, “I have been studying the Power Rangers, and have learned the secret to their victories.”

Gruumm leaned forwards appreciatively. Mora, encouraged by his interest, continued, carefully annunciating every word. Gruumm, despite his military prowess, was not the brightest crayon in the box, and she hated repeating herself.

“The Power Rangers share a mystical bond, which is channeled through their morphers. When all the colors work together, they amplify each other’s powers, making the Rangers as a group more powerful than any monster you could send against them. Together, they are unstoppable.”

Gruumm frowned, processing her statement. “And exactly how does this …information… help me?”

“Because, your hornness,” Mora said, her voice heavy with exasperation, “This means that the only way the Power Rangers can be defeated is from within.”

Gruumm’s face twisted into an evil grin as realization slowly dawned upon him. “A traitor in SPD. I like this idea already.”

“Not within SPD,” She explained smugly, “A traitor among the Rangers themselves. Imagine, an evil Ranger, all your own. This will tear them apart!”

Broodwing shook his head, all three eyes narrowing in thought. “As much as I appreciate the irony of the Rangers being defeated by one of their own, this plan will not work. No Ranger will willingly betray their friends.” He sneered in derision. “They are a disgustingly good and loyal bunch.”

“Yes,” hissed Mora, “and we will use that against them. Now, this is what we are going to do…”

–

With her sensitive feline hearing, Kat could hear the Power Rangers arguing from all the way down the hall. Decades of training cadets had given her much insight into the adolescent mind, but even after all these years, she could not understand why they fought over such trivial things.

Doggie cared little so long as it did not affect their efficiency, but the B-squad cadets had serious difficulties with team dynamics. The varieties of personalities and problem solving approaches they exhibited made them both an unstoppable crime fighting team, yet resulted in conflict when they were off duty.

Kat winced slightly as Syd’s piercing tones rose to a deafening volume.

“Look, you took my boots, and I want them back!”

“What would I do with your ugly pink boots, Syd? We don’t even wear the same size!”

“I don’t even pretend to know why you do things. And my boots aren’t ugly. They’re designer!”

“Girls, girls, take it easy.” Jack said, munching loudly on a strange-looking alien snack. He had discovered his love of the spicy lobster-shaped …things … during his time with SPD. His years on the street had made him frugal, but now, having been granted a moderate salary by his new position on the force, he occasionally chose to splurge on choice items. Such as crunchy, spicy red crackers. He often likened his love of them to Bridge’s love of toast.

And speaking of Bridge, he’d been awfully quiet and distant recently… Jack covertly glanced at the green ranger. ‘He looks tired…’

Jack frowned pensively, but instead of exploring that train of thought, he turned his attention to the quickly escalating argument of the two girls. Having ignored his previous suggestion, they had gone back to arguing amongst themselves, and it was getting on his nerves.

Jack shook his head to dispel an impending headache. He liked to think of himself as a tolerant man, but even he had limits. Why couldn’t they just get along? What was it with this team? He had never had this problem when he was working with Z. “Look, this is not that big of a deal. Just…let it go.”

Syd stamped her foot in irritation.“But what about my boots? They’re important to me!”

“And …she called me a thief!”

“It wasn’t me who was arrested for stealing clothes!”

“For the poor! And even a starving woman wouldn’t want those boots!”

“How dare you, you …” Syd paused, and thought up the worst insult she could muster. “…tomboy!”

“Enough!” Jack interrupted, determined to put a stop to this argument. “Syd, buy new boots. Z, back off.” The two roommates immediately began to protest, and Jack held up his hand to forestall further argument. “No. Or do I have to make it an order?”

There was a brief silence, punctuated by the occasional spiteful murmur. The girls glared at each other for a moment longer, and then headed to opposite sides of the room. “Good,” Jack said, resolutely turning back to his snacks.

Sky snorted contemptuously from the other couch, not even bothering to look up from his reading. The Blue Ranger had said nothing ever since he entered the rec room, preferring his data-pad to his teammates’ company.

Jack momentarily wondered what was so engrossing, and then realized that it was probably the SPD handbook. Again. ‘He thinks he’s so much better than everyone else.’ Jack thought uncharitably.

Sky had been needling him since …well, ever since he joined SPD. Recently, however, Sky’s moods had been particularly dark, and Jack had borne the brunt of it. He had always been a firm believer in carefully choosing his battles, but he’d had just about enough of Sky’s attitude. “You have something to say?” He demanded pointedly.

“Why don’t you just mind your own business, Jack?” The blue ranger replied testily, putting down the data-pad.

“Anything that effects my team is my business!”

“Your team?”

“Yes,” Jack snapped, “Last time I checked, I was the red ranger, not you.”

Sky bit back a scathing and wholly inappropriate comment, and choose instead to leave the room, his movements stiff with anger.

“Nice one,” Z added after a moment of silence, startled by Jack’s vehemence.

Syd nodded in agreement, and then looked shocked to actually be agreeing with Z on anything. “Yeah, I mean, I know that Sky can be like totally annoying, but that wasn’t really necessary, was it?”

Jack put his head in his hands, the ringing noise in his head having returned with a vengeance. If only a robot would attack, and distract him. These off-hours were killing him. A few more breaks like this, and he would seriously have to consider resigning from SPD. It’s not like he wanted to be here anyhow – after all, he was only doing it for Z.

Of course, should he quit, Cruger would probably toss him in jail. However, those white-washed containment cells were looking more attractive every day. They was quiet, empty and totally private. And far, far away from irritating second-in-commands who continuously challenged his authority.

No, it was more than that. Jack was no friend of authority himself, but Sky disputed his very competence to lead this team; a very personal and directed challenge.

Jack used to have doubts about this very thing, but their team’s success over the past few weeks had changed his opinion. He had proved to himself, and just about everyone else, that he was capable of leading a team of power rangers. But nothing that he could say or do seemed to change Sky’s perceptions, to overcome both their bad first impressions and Sky’s lingering disappointment at being, in his eyes, under-promoted.

Jack knew it would be difficult to lead a team of strangers, especially since three of those strangers had trained, lived and worked together since long before he ever encountered them. But, with time, the other two SPD-trained cadets seemed to have adapted to his leadership, or at the very least had learned to tolerate him.

And he liked to think that he had gotten to know them; befriended them, even. This was important; in order to effectively lead, he needed to know their strengths and their weaknesses, and how to communicate well with each of them.

Jack went through a quick mental evaluation of his teammates.

Syd – well, she was a little egotistical, but very sociable, a great fighter, and ever-fashionable. He liked her. How could someone not like Syd? She was so positive and optimistic.

Jack didn’t really understand Bridge. He didn’t understand his powers, or the way he thought. Bridge was weird, which was saying something coming from a man who could phase through solid objects. What Jack did know was that his insights, however strange they seemed, were often very valuable, and he had heard that no one was better with machinery and the megazords than the green ranger.

Sky, on the other hand …Jack made a conscious effort to review Sky’s good points. He was extremely loyal, both to SPD and those he considered friends. He was a decent strategist and could shoot very accurately. He was also a true believer in justice, and would never intentionally do anything to endanger the well-being of SPD or Earth.

He was, however, a stickler for the rules, and was not what Jack would call a people person. He took himself too seriously, was antisocial and often cold, and thought very highly of his own skills. Which, as far as Jack could tell, was exactly the problem.

At first he thought that Sky didn’t like him because he was an outsider. However, he seemed to get along with Z, and Jack had eventually realized that Sky resented the fact that Cruger hadn’t chosen to make him red ranger, and truly believed Jack to be unworthy of the position. Unfortunately, this opinion manifested itself so frequently in their interactions that Jack was beginning to think that the cost of dealing with Sky outweighed the benefits of having him on the team.

This current argument was only the latest in a sequence of clashes, and Jack worried that it would culminate with a falling-out that would permanently divide his team. He was willing to put aside his personal feelings concerning Sky, because the Earth needed them, all of them, to work together as a team.

He had tried to explain this concept to the blue ranger, but it ended in another argument. Interacting with Sky was like fighting with a wall. He just couldn’t get through. ‘How fitting that his powers do that very thing.’ Jack thought, uncharacteristically bitter. ‘What am I supposed to do? He’s driving me insane!’

“You could just apologize to him, you know.” Bridge added softly from the corner. “If you did, he might give you a chance.”

Jack blinked in astonishment, feeling quite a bit surprised and a more than a little unsettled. Bridge was normally weird, but that was just creepy.

The red ranger shot a glance at the girls to see if they had noticed anything, but they seemed not to be listening. Z was listening to music on a very high volume, presumably to drown out the sound of Syd’s music video, currently playing on TV. Syd was completely occupied with examining her television persona in minute detail, occasionally making dissatisfied noises. Either way, he was on his own.

Did Bridge just read his mind? Or did he say that out loud?

Jack hoped it was the latter, because he had heard nothing about Bridge being a telepath. He hoped he wasn’t. While he trusted Bridge with his life on a daily basis, his thoughts were a completely different matter.

Maybe he was just being paranoid. Or maybe it was some form of telepathy, and he had just been thinking very loudly. Or maybe Bridge had derived that information using empathy alone.

Jack didn’t know Bridge well enough to say, but for the first time he realized that there might be more to the green ranger than anyone had ever suspected.
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To Be Continued

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