—

Chapter 23: Hide and Seek

—

Broodwing landed in front of Piggy’s restaurant and paced in barely contained rage. Viciously kicking aside an upturned chair, the mercenary surveyed the empty parking lot and trailer.

Someone had scrawled their name in graffiti across the front of the restaurant, and the metal counter was partially torn off its hinges. The restaurant was obviously abandoned. Piggy would have to be incredibly foolish to return here, the first place anyone would look for him.

Broodwing scuffed his feet in the dirt. He looked up at the towering buildings of SPD headquarters and wished all the ills of the universe on its inhabitants and one green ranger in particular.

‘He’ll pay for this,’ Broodwing thought. ‘Maybe I should turn him in to the other rangers.’ The idea was appealing. The Troobians would never know that Broodwing had betrayed them and, when Gruumm asked, he could probably blame it all on Mora.

‘No,’ Broodwing finally decided, ‘I still need him.’ After all, he couldn’t defeat Gruumm and Mora on his own. But one day, once he ruled the Earth, there would be no need for disobedient, treacherous rangers.

The bat smiled evilly. He looked forward to that day.

—

Through a peephole beneath his trailer, Piggy watched Broodwing arrive and pace back and forth. Long ago, Piggy had expanded the area beneath his restaurant, digging out a hiding place.

Accessible only through a secret entrance hidden beneath some storage crates, Piggy’s hideout had all the comforts of home; a well-stocked supply of pickled banana peels,  a comfortable bed of egg cartons and a unobstructed view of the area outside his trailer.

Piggy held his breath and stayed tried to stay perfectly still as the bat walked closer. He couldn’t stop the trembling, though,  which started in his hands and traveled all the way to his toes.

Outside, Broodwing cocked his head to the side, as if he could hear Piggy’s fear. The bat took a step closer to Piggy’s hiding place. ‘He knows I’m here.’ Piggy thought, beginning to panic. A moment later, however, Broodwing turned around flew away.

Piggy breathed a sigh of relief. ‘What am I going to do?’ He wondered. ‘Broodwing is trying to kill me and the green ranger is out to get me too. Gruumm and Mora are trying to destroy the planet. Maybe it’s time to leave Earth.’

Piggy mulled it over for a while. He still had friends and relatives, somewhere out in the Andromeda galaxy. Maybe his aunts would take him in until he could start a new restaurant.

Piggy shuddered. Living with them might even be worse than being held prisoner by the Troobians. ‘I don’t want to leave,’ Piggy thought, with a growing sense of anger and injustice. ‘This is my home!’

‘Do you really think that Gruumm and Mora will let you live?’ A voice inside his head whispered. ‘They’ll hunt you down, find you.’

‘I’ll make it,’ Piggy countered, trying to convince himself. ‘I’ve done it before. They’ll never find me – as long as the ranger doesn’t tell them where I am.’ That was the crux of the problem. If anyone could find him, it would be Bridge. Even though the ranger had saved his life, he worked for the Troobians and couldn’t be trusted.

There was only one  option left. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t have to like it.

—

For the second time in one day, Cruger was faced by a group of angry rangers.

“Sir, you can’t do this,” Syd argued, “Boom doesn’t deserve to be shipped off-world!”

“He’s human, he should stay on Earth,” Jack said. “He’s not a threat to anyone. Why can’t we keep him here?”

“I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that.” Cruger thought of Fowler. “If we can’t prove Boom’s innocence by tomorrow, I will have no choice but to hand him over to Galactic Headquarters.”

“But that’s not fair!” Z exclaimed. She wasn’t alone – the other rangers, excluding Sky, were looking downright mutinous.

“No, it’s not,” Cruger said. “And I will do everything in my power to prevent this and, if necessary, bring him home.”

—

Boom had quickly grown to hate every inch of his cell. He hated the bright fluorescent lights, which caused him to squint every time he lay down. He hated the hard bed – a plastic ledge, really – and the reflective, polished tiles on the floor. But most of all, he hated the silence.

The isolation cells were completely soundproof. No one could hear him from outside this room and he couldn’t hear them. He missed the chatter of cadets, the mechanical hum of the labs.

Even the shouts and taunts of the other prisoners would be preferable to this. With nothing else to do, Boom spent his time worrying and agonizing over his future.

What was going to happen to him? Were they going to keep him in this cell forever? Who was going to feed his fish? He must be losing his mind, worrying about a goldfish during a time like this.

‘No, they won’t let anything happen to me,’ Boom told himself firmly. ‘Syd promised.’ As soon as he thought about her, the heavy outer door swung open and Syd entered the room, followed by Z. Boom got to his feet, but his smile faded as he saw their grim expressions.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it.” Boom said, a horrible feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. “What’s going to happen to me?

Z and Syd both looked at each other, suddenly reluctant to tell Boom the bad news. “They’re planning to ship you off-world tomorrow,” Z finally said. “I think they’re planning to make an example of you.”

“Off-world?” Boom said, stunned. He had never even been to Mexico on vacation, let alone off-world. “To where?”

“We don’t know,” Syd said.  “You have to have seen something, anything, that would prove to Cruger that you didn’t do it!”

“I don’t know!” Boom cried. “I didn’t see anything.” He sat down at the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. “It’s hopeless. I’m doomed.”

He looked up at the two rangers. “Can you guys do me a favor? Tell my parents that I love them and I didn’t do it. And I’m sorry I lied to them, I just wanted them to be proud of me.”

—

Bridge was on his way to the prison level when Syd ran past him. He could tell she was crying. Z followed close behind.

“Are you going to see Boom?” Z asked. “He’s really upset right now. I think he could use a friend.”

“Yeah,” Bridge said. “I wanted to speak to him before they… sent him away.”

Z spontaneously hugged him, holding him tight. Surprised, Bridge stiffened for a moment before returning the gesture.  “It’ll all work out in the end, Bridge. We’ll get Boom back.”

“I really hope so,” he said sincerely.

Bridge walked further down the level, finally stopping in front of the door leading to Boom’s cell. For several minutes, he stood in the hallway and wondered what he could possibly say to make things better.

‘I can’t just go in there and lie to him,’ Bridge realized. ‘No matter what Z says, it won’t be all right, ever again.’ Gruumm and Mora had already made sure of that. ‘I can’t change what’s happened, but I can at least help Boom. He’s my friend – I can’t let him take the blame for everything I’ve done.’

—

–back– (oOo) – next–

—

Chapter 5: A Calculated Risk

—

Will Stronghold

—

There’s a one in five hundred thousand chance that you’ll be struck by lightening, one in ten million that you’ll be president of the United States. The overall odds of being canonized are twenty-million to one, but I think my odds are far steeper than that.

Chances are that, given a reasonable opportunity, Warren will try to kill me. I can accept that. There are many people who wish me dead, and more than a few of them live within my own base. He’s just one more.

When I set Warren free from his cage, I calculated the risk as somewhere between the chance of a child with two normal parents being born with superpowers, and the chance that I will meet my end by unnatural causes. Supervillains don’t tend to die of old age, so I’d say those odds are pretty high.

But, regardless of the odds, it was worth it. That look of surprise, mixed with suspicion and gratitude is something I never thought I’d see. It’s good to keep him off balance. If he never knows what to expect, he can never prepare for what happens next.

Nevertheless, it’s a temporary reprieve, and we both know it. I left the collar tightly locked around his neck; even if he someone managed to discover the codes allowing him access to the outside, without his powers he would be easy prey to the villains lurking beyond these walls. If nothing else, Warren does have scores upon scores of enemies.

Somewhere nearby, I can hear the shuffling footsteps of Gwen Grayson. I ignore her, fine-tuning the repairs to one of my many ray guns. I replace a plate, carefully manipulating a tiny screw. Then I repeat the process, until all the nicks and kinks have disappeared.

There’s some irony in the fact that I, the most powerful super-villain in the country, inventor of dozens of deadly and horrific weapons, would have failed Mad Science without Gwen’s help. I never thought I would need the information and, more importantly, I was a little preoccupied with my beautiful lab partner.

She’s not so beautiful anymore, but I suppose I could still ask Gwen to fix my weapons and armor. She could, undoubtedly, do it in an instant – assuming, of course, that insanity hasn’t caused her to lose control of her powers.

She’s still watching me. I can hear her soft, steady breathing, and can almost feel her hateful glare. I’ve long since given up on wondering what thoughts cross her twisted mind. I should have killed her long ago, but I didn’t. I think I have a thing for keeping former foes as prisoners.

—

Warren Peace

—

It’s like a game – you pull on the handle of one door, and maybe it opens. You pull on the handle of another, it stays locked and you move on.

Devastator’s base is a maze, a labyrinth of locked rooms and doors. For the most part, the rooms I am able to enter are empty or recently vacated. What does Devastator need so much space for?

His minions, the few which there are, avoid me like the plague. Sometimes I see one of them, mostly in the distance, down a dark corridor or entering a locked room. I pass a brushed metal door.

I count to three before pushing on the handle. To my surprise, the door opens slowly into a long but narrow room, full of antique equipment, all covered with a layer of dust. There’s one set of footprints, going to the back of the room and then doubling towards the front.

They’re too small to belong to Will. I follow them to the back of the room and look up at the shelves. There’s a gap, a missing item. The only thing to mark its existence is a slightly lighter area on the wall and shelf, an area missing the dust that covers the rest of the room.

A shadow blocks the thin, cold light coming from the door, and I turn to face someone who I never thought I’d see again.

“Royal Pain. I heard that you escaped prison, but I had no idea that you were here.”

—

To Be Continued

—

–back–   (oOo) – next–

—

Chapter 22: A Matter of Time

—

“No way!”

“You can’t…”

“… not Boom!”

The command center was in an uproar. Cruger tried to speak several times, but kept getting interrupted. “Attention! Now, one at a time.”

Sky, who had been silent until then, spoke first. “Sir, why do you think Boom is involved?”

That was an easy question. Cruger was silently grateful that Sky was so level-headed. “There have been two incidents involving information being stolen from our computers. We’ve managed to trace it back to Boom.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Sir, there’s no way that Boom could have done that,” Jack said. “He must have been framed.”

“Yeah!” Syd exclaimed. “Boom was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I know he didn’t do this,” Bridge added. Sky was watching him closely, weighing every word. “Boom is our friend – he would never betray SPD.”

Cruger sighed. “I don’t like this any more than you, but we don’t have a choice. If Boom is involved in any way, we need to know about it. Securing SPD needs to be our first priority.”

“So that’s it?” Z asked, a little horrified. SPD was supposed to be about justice, not about imprisoning innocent people. This definitely wasn’t what she signed up for! “We’re just going to keep him locked up like some criminal?”

“It’s likely that Boom is being manipulated, probably by someone close to him.” Kat finally said. “Now that he’s detained, maybe the real traitor will become careless.”

“And what happens if they don’t?” Bridge said, speaking the fear on everyone’s mind. “Become careless, I mean. Because we’ve all been trying our best, and we haven’t caught them yet.”

“We will catch the real traitor,” Cruger replied. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Bridge briefly wondered how much of that confidence was real and how much was an act. Maybe the Commander knew more than he was letting on? ‘No,’ Bridge reasoned. ‘If he knew anything, it would be me in that cell instead of Boom.’

“Bridge, you’re closer to Boom than any of us. Have you noticed anything?” Cruger asked. “Does he have any new friends, or has he said or done anything strange?”

Bridge answered as honestly as he could. “No, sir. I haven’t noticed anything — he’s been pretty much the same as always. Well, maybe he’s been a little more stressed out than usual, but everyone kind of is.”

“That’s true, cadet.” Cruger said thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, rangers. But for now, this is the best option. Unless there’s anything else, you’re dismissed.”

—-

“Sir?” Sophie looked up from her console. “Supreme Commander Fowler is on the line.”

Cruger groaned. How did he find out so quickly? Kat was right – bad news really did fly faster than light! “I’ll take it in my office.”

Returning to his office, he sat down at the desk. Taking a moment to compose himself, he pressed a button, and Fowler appeared on the viewing screen.

“I hear you’ve finally detained a suspect,” Fowler said. The way he said it implied great negligence on Cruger’s part.

Cruger ignored the insult. Fowler enjoyed needling him, probably hoping that Cruger would lose his temper and do something rash. It hadn’t happened yet. “Yes, but we believe there are others involved. Boom is an easy scapegoat, but the investigation is ongoing.”

Fowler frowned. “You’re letting your personal feelings cloud your judgment, Commander,” he said disapprovingly. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s well known that you and Dr. Manx are close to the suspect.”

“My feelings have nothing to do with it,” Cruger countered. “Boom is not the traitor – he doesn’t have the skills or the motivation.”

“Are you sure, Commander?” Fowler asked. Cruger’s silence was all the answer he needed. “I suppose that it doesn’t concern you that this whole incident has been a publicity nightmare for SPD. “

“My only concern, Supreme Commander,” Cruger said. “is the welfare of Earth.”

Fowler ignored him, continuing as if he hadn’t heard. “Do you know what our enemies are saying? They say that SPD, the most powerful police force in the galaxy, is so incompetent that we are unable to secure our own bases. And worse, powerful people, important people, have begun to listen. What will you do, Cruger, when they strip you of your command and turn the defense of Earth over to, say, the Newtech Police Department?”

“That will never happen,” Cruger growled.

“No, it won’t,” Fowler said flatly. “A special task force has been sent from Galactic Headquarters to collect the prisoner. They will arrive tomorrow, and I expect your full cooperation. The traitor will be tried by an intergalactic tribunal, and you will be permitted to continue your work.”

The Supreme Commander of SPD gave a sharp salute. “Goodbye, Commander.”

“Supreme Commander,” Cruger acknowledged distastefully, returning the salute.

Fowler blinked out of existence.

—

Boom sat inside his cell and stared dejectedly at the floor. His prison was one of the few isolation rooms, reserved for particularly dangerous or unruly prisoners.

He didn’t think of himself as dangerous. Well, Kat might disagree with that, but he had never done anything illegal, certainly nothing that would get him arrested and confined! How could anyone believe he could have done all of those terrible things?

“At least my parents aren’t here to see this,” Boom thought, biting back a sob. After all, they still thought he was a ranger.

Clank!

Boom nearly jumped out of his skin as a guard rapped her baton on his cell bars.

“Traitor!” The guard hissed. Boom knew many of the cadets, but he had never met this one before. “You’re worse than the Troobians; you betrayed your own planet. People like you don’t deserve to live!”

Boom backed as far away from the cell door as he could. There was something scary about that cadet, a cruel light in her eyes. If she had her way, Boom realized with a shiver, he wouldn’t make it to any sort of trial – and many of the other cadets probably felt the same way.

“Leave him alone!” A familiar voice said. Standing outside of the room, Syd had heard enough.

“Yes, sir!” The guard returned to her post and stood at rapt attention.

Syd glared at her. “Well, what are you still doing here? You’re dismissed.”

Already in enough trouble, the guard saluted stiffly and left. She wasn’t going to argue with a superior officer, but she couldn’t understand why a ranger would stand up for someone like that.

Now that they were alone, Syd turned to Boom. “Boom, are you okay?”

“Not — not really.” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He didn’t want anyone, not even Syd, to see him cry. “You have to believe me, I didn’t do it!”

“Boom, it’ll be okay,” Syd said. “None of us think you did it. We’ll prove it wasn’t you. You just have to hang in there.”

Boom nodded. “ I’ll try, Syd. I really will.”

—

For the rest of the day, through two training sessions and a battle in the city, Bridge was unusually silent. He spoke to his other teammates only when he had to, and he didn’t speak to Sky at all.

For the most part, people left him alone. Whether it was out of respect or suspicion, Bridge no longer cared. Most people, particularly the cadets who didn’t know him, seemed to feel a combination of both. Everyone knew he was friends with Boom; even Sophie was tiptoeing around him.

Sky, on the other hand, practically oozed suspicion. Bridge couldn’t ignore it or block it out, so he tried to stay as far away from him as possible. However, since they shared a room, there was no way to avoid him.

“You weren’t covering for Boom, were you?” Sky asked, finally cornering Bridge. “Because it would explain a lot.”

“He didn’t do anything,” Bridge said. “There’s nothing to cover for.”

“You seem awfully sure about that,” Sky replied. “I mean, even Cruger has doubts.”

“I know he didn’t do it,” Bridge said quietly. “I don’t need proof, he’s my friend.”

Sky looked a little ashamed. “Bridge, last night — I didn’t mean…”

Bridge cut him off. “Yeah, you did. And I deserve it, I guess. But you — you don’t trust anyone, no matter what. That’s why everyone thinks it’s you.”

—

To Be Continued

—

–back– (oOo) – next–

—

Chapter 21: More Important Than Friendship

—

Piggy was a coward. It wasn’t the usual kind of cowardice, which came quickly and left just as fast. Piggy’s cowardice was part of his personality, an ever present instinct for self-preservation.

“I – I know that I’ve caused lots of trouble,” Piggy stammered, trying to look genuinely repentant, “and maybe I haven’t been the best person around, but everyone makes mistakes, right?”

The ranger didn’t seem convinced.

‘This is it,’ Piggy thought. ‘I’m really done for this time.’ He frantically looked around his prison, searching for something – anything — to defend himself with. Digging through his pockets, he pulled out a rotten, half-eaten apple.

‘Why couldn’t it have been a Torellian grenade, or one of those tiny teleport devices?’ Piggy lamented, dropping the fruit on the floor.

Bridge drew his blaster and Piggy closed his eyes, too afraid to look. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and time slowed to a crawl. A very long second passed, and then another. Piggy opened one eye, sneaking a peek at his would-be assassin.

In his time, Piggy had met many criminals. He knew thieves and informants, smugglers and crooks. Many of those people would kill without a moment’s hesitation. A moment ago, Piggy would have put Bridge into that category. After all, if he could betray the rangers, he was probably capable of anything.

But it was Bridge’s hands which gave him away, hands which trembled slightly as he held the blaster. “Don’t do this,” Piggy implored. He looked into Bridge’s eyes. “You — you’re not like the Troobians. You’re better than that. You know this is wrong. And if you do this, you’ll just be another one of Broodwing’s thugs.”

‘Piggy’s right,’ Bridge realized. ‘Even if he deserves it, I can’t just kill him in cold blood.’ It went against everything he believed it, everything he had been taught at SPD. “Okay, Piggy,” Bridge said, slowly lowering the blaster. Removing the keys from one of the fallen krybots, he opened the prison door.

Piggy took a moment to silently thank all the human and alien Gods he knew, promising for the hundredth time to be a good, upstanding citizen from now on. When he looked back, the ranger was stripping the uniform from a krybot.

“What are you doing?” Piggy asked, momentarily dumbfounded.

“I won’t kill you, but Gruumm and Mora and even Broodwing probably would if they find you. Well, they definitely would. Anyways, I didn’t save you just to let you die on this ship,” Bridge said. “So you need a disguise.” Tugging the uniform off the krybot, he gave it to Piggy, who put it on without protest.

The inside of the krybot uniform reeked of burnt plastic and electronics, and Piggy stifled a cough. It was hard to breathe inside the helmet, and even harder to see out of the dark-tinted eye openings.

“You’d better go,” Bridge said. “He’ll be really mad once he figures out you’re gone.”

Piggy didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was. Cursing the day he had ever become involved with that treacherous, good-for-nothing bat, Piggy crept towards the door, keeping a wary eye on Bridge.

“If you go up the stairs and to the left,” Bride told him, “and then take another right and follow the long passageway to the other side of the ship, there’s a teleporter which should take you back down to Earth.”

Piggy couldn’t believe his good luck. “Uh – thanks. But what will you do about Broodwing?”

“I guess I’ll have to take my chances. And Piggy?”

“Yes?”

“I know all your hiding places,” Bridge said. “If you tell the other rangers, I’ll make sure Broodwing knows exactly where to find you.”

Piggy nodded fearfully and scurried away as fast as he could.

—

Nobody saw when Bridge returned to SPD. Silently passing by a sleeping guard, Bridge made his way back to the dorms. Finally reaching his room, he slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

His only warning was the click of a switch, and then the room was flooded with light. Bridge blinked and waited for the bright spots to fade away. Trying not to look guilty, Bridge crossed the room and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Where were you?” Sky demanded.

“Nowhere,” Bridge said. The lies were becoming easier to say, but harder to keep straight. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went up to the roof.”

“No, you didn’t,” Sky said quietly. “I checked there. I checked everywhere. In fact, I don’t think you were at SPD at all.”

“Where would I go?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Bridge said nothing.

“You see, that’s exactly it,” Sky said. “We used to be friends, but you don’t tell me anything anymore.”

“We’re still friends,” Bridge replied. “Being friends doesn’t mean that we have to tell each other everything. I mean, everyone has secrets.”

Sky shook his head. “Everyone has secrets, but not like yours. You have nothing but secrets.” And it was true. “Something is wrong, something doesn’t fit. I’ve covered for you, even lied to Cruger for you. But I can’t do it anymore. There are too many questions, questions which only you have the answer to.

Where do you go at night, Bridge? Why are your powers changing? These things can’t all be coincidence. Why is it that every time something bad happens, you’re nowhere to be found?”

“I don’t know,” Bridge said. “I guess it’s just bad luck.”

“Bad luck?” Sky said incredulously. “Look around, Bridge. We’re in a war. The whole planet is depending on us. So if you know anything that could help…”

“I already told you, I don’t know anything,” Bridge insisted. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Fine, I will,” Sky said, looking hurt. “This isn’t over, though.”

Bridge ignored him. Lying down, he turned towards the wall and pretended to sleep.

—

His mind full of anxious thoughts, Sky tossed and turned in bed. Finally falling into an uneasy sleep, he woke as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window.

“I’m sorry, Bridge.” Sky thought, taking one last look at his sleeping roommate. “But some things really are more important than friendship.” Moving quietly, so as not to wake Bridge, Sky changed into a new uniform and crept out the door.

Haunted by a lurking sense of failure, Sky went in search of Cruger. First he went to the command center, but only Sophie and a few cadets were on duty.

The Commander didn’t seem to be in any of the training areas, either. Maybe he was with Kat, in the temporary science labs set up in the basement. Taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the lower level, Sky saw lights within and tried the door. It was locked.

A little discouraged, Sky returned to the main atrium. He arrived just in time to watch Boom get arrested for treason.

—

To Be Continued

—

–back– (oOo) – next–

—

Not Today

Chapter 4: The Price of Order

—

She heard the news at a wedding. Warren Peace, the superhero now known as Phoenix, had been captured and by none other than Devastator himself. Evelyn Frost adjusted her skirt, running the statement through her mind once, then twice, testing for the truth.

It had been a long time since her and Warren had been on speaking terms. Nevertheless, she had never wanted him captured or dead, especially at Devastator’s hands. It seemed a lifetime ago that Warren had taken her to the prom at Sky High.

Evelyn allowed herself a slight smile. He had been so cute back then. In fact, he was handsome even now, in a sort of dark and wild way. But Peace was unpredictable, dangerous even. She knew that better than anyone.

And it was his hotheadedness which undoubtedly put him in the situation he was in now. Evelyn knew the rumors were true when the black cars arrived. The Bureau didn’t summon her on the basis of loose talk, only fact.

Her heels clicked loudly against the black tiles of the waiting room.

“Evelyn Frost?” The secretary put down the phone. “The council is waiting for you.”

She nodded and made a sharp turn down the indicated hallway. Evelyn caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror and paused to adjust her hair. Taking the lipstick from her purse, she drew a perfect line across her bottom lip, and then the top.

Putting it away, she straightened her back and entered the room. The Bureau of Superheroes was governed by an elected council, composed of the most respected heroes in the country. Her mother, Emma Frost, had once sat on the council.

Evelyn hated to be reminded of how far she was from living up to her mother’s legacy.

A council member, sitting near the middle of the half-circle spoke first. “Evelyn Frost, do you know why you’re here?”

“I could make and educated guess, but I’d prefer not to.”

One council member turned to whisper in another’s ear. In that instant, Evelyn would have traded anything for the power of super-hearing. Instead, she crossed her hands behind her back and waited for them to continue.

“Witnesses have reported that Warren Peace, also know as Phoenix, was captured by Devastator and taken to his base approximately three days ago.”

“You must understand,” another council member began, “that there is very little we can do… officially. Devastator is too powerful, too influential. That’s where you come in.”

Evelyn nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

“We need you to infiltrate Devastator’s base and plant this device.” A folder was passed to her by an underclerk. She flipped through the maps and diagrams, before concealing it within her jacket. “You may attempt to free Peace, but if he won’t come willingly…” The rest of the words were left unsaid, but Evelyn understood.

“May I speak freely?” Several members of the council nodded and she continued, a little hesitantly. “Warren…” Evelyn took a deep breath. “Warren isn’t a bad person.”

“Yes. But he also follows no orders, no rules. Warren Peace follows only his own conscience. That’s a dangerous thing in a soldier.”

“Warren doesn’t consider himself a soldier.”

“No, he considers himself a hero. But a hero who can’t be controlled is as dangerous as any villain.”

Another spoke. “Save him if you can. But if for any reason you’re not able to, you should understand that the Bureau does not hold you responsible for his fate.”

Evelyn lowered her head briefly.

“I understand.”

—

To Be Continued
—

–back–   (oOo) – next–

—

Chapter 20: Choices and Decisions

—

Sometimes, Cruger felt like his job consisted of arranging the pieces of a large and impossibly complex puzzle. There were a thousand clues, a thousand pieces of information. And he had to put it all together, no matter how many pieces were missing.

“I have the report on the lab accident,” Kat said, entering his office. Cruger sat up a little straighter. Whatever she found must be important; Kat almost never asked to speak to him privately. “The explosion was a diversion. Around the same time, the camera outside of your office was disabled. I also checked your computer – someone has hacked into it to steal important files.”

“Which files?”

“Everything on the SWAT upgrades.”

Cruger growled under his breath. That information was undoubtedly in Troobian hands by now; so much for that secret weapon! “We should modify the SWAT upgrades,” Cruger decided. “There’s still a chance that we can add something and take them by surprise.”

It all depended on how much time they had left. Cruger would bet his Shadow Saber that Gruumm was planning something big, and the Troobian was nearly ready to make his move.

“Most of my equipment was damaged in the lab explosion, but I’ll see what I can do,” Kat said. “If possible, I’d like to borrow Sophie as well.”

“Take whatever you need. This project is to have the highest importance.”

Kat hesitated. “Doggie, there’s something else.”

—

Even in the most isolated corner of the Troobian spaceship, Broodwing could neatly place Mora in her playroom. For some reason, her pointless chatter seemed to penetrate through the walls, following Broodwing everywhere he went.

Broodwing had risked death and imprisonment many times – all in the name of profit, of course! At the moment, however, he would rather fight down the entire ranger team than deal with Mora. The pint-sized menace was currently playing house with a small army of krybots, and she intended for a very particular bat to play the “baby”.

Which was why Broodwing was lurking in the shadows of an empty storage room, at the far end of the ship. A troop of krybots passed his hiding place before continuing onwards, and Broodwing could hear another one on the level below.

Broodwing waited until he heard the soft, ever-present hum of the engine increase in pitch, signaling that the teleporter was in use. Leaving his hiding place, he quickly made his way to the teleporter room. “You’re here,” Broodwing observed, eyeing the newcomer. “That’s quite risky, considering how things are at SPD.”

Bridge shrugged. “Mora called me. I had to come.”

“Yes, I know,” Broodwing said. “You’re good at doing things for Mora and Gruumm but now it’s time you did something for me. Piggy is here, in one of the prison cells on the lower level. It would be suspicious if I… disposed… of him, which is where you come in.”

“What do I get out of this? I don’t have anything against Piggy.”

“We had an agreement,” Broodwing hissed. “If you don’t want to hold up your end of the bargain, I might have to tell your friends at SPD about you.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Bridge said. “Gruumm would kill you for ruining his plans.”

Bridge couldn’t see it, but he knew that Broodwing was smiling. “Gruumm finds me useful, but he is also oblivious to the large part of what I do. If he found out, it would be a setback – but nothing compared to what your so-called friends would do to you.”

Before Bridge could respond, Mora arrived. The pictomancer eyed them both suspiciously, before turning to Broodwing. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I was just leaving,” Broodwing said condescendingly. He swept from the room, but not before catching Bridge’s eye. ‘Don’t even thing about disobeying me,’ the bat seemed to say.

Bridge ignored him. “Why am I here?” he asked Mora. “Was there something wrong with the information I sent?”

Mora shook her head, and her pigtails flopped from side to side. “No, Gruumm just wanted to give you your next assignment in person. He really wants to talk to you. I mean, he wouldn’t even let me play with you first.” She brightened. “But that doesn’t matter, because once you come back, you’ll be able to play with me all the time.”

Bridge wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. “You know,” he said, “I think they’re onto me. They’ll figure it out really soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Mora said. “You see, this will be your last assignment. Once you’re done, no more sneaking around and no more SPD.”

—

Sky liked things to be black and white.

There was good and there was evil, there was SPD and there was everything else. There were also the things he knew, and the things he didn’t.

In the category of things he knew, Sky put the following facts. First, there was a spy somewhere within SPD. Cruger said it could be anyone, which meant that it could even be one of the rangers. He knew that sometimes, on nights like tonight, the green ranger would sneak from their room and return hours later, exhausted.

Bridge had also developed new powers, but didn’t seem interested in practicing with them or even understanding where they came from. Bridge was always curious — why had that changed? It was almost like Bridge already knew the answer and choose not to tell anyone.

The green ranger seemed to be hiding a lot of things lately.

True, he didn’t know where Bridge went at night. He didn’t know why Bridge’s powers were changing, or why he had suddenly become so secretive.

But Bridge would never betray his friends. Sky knew him better than that.

Didn’t he?

Sky lay in bed and wondered exactly when he had begun to suspect his closest friend of treason.

—

Cruger thought for a very long time before responding. “No, that’s not possible. I don’t believe he’s capable of such a thing.”

“I agree. He’s being framed or somehow manipulated.”

On one hand, this was the break they had been looking for. They finally had enough evidence to detain a suspect, which would appease Fowler and galactic headquarters. On the other hand, Kat was an excellent judge of character, and it went against everything Cruger believed in to imprison an innocent man.

But what if they were wrong? No matter what it took, Cruger couldn’t let Earth meet the same fate as Sirius. “He may be innocent, but can we really take that chance?”

For once, Kat was at a loss for words. “You can’t be considering…”

“I don’t have a choice. It’s for his safety, as well as ours.”

—

Bridge knew the Troobian ship well enough to find his own way to the throne room, but Mora insisted on escorting him. She skipped along the passageway, always keeping a few feet ahead and talking the entire time, chattering about krybots and Cindy and tea and wouldn’t he bring some toys from Earth for her, because she was getting so tired of the ones she had?

Mora’s monologue trailed off as they reached the throne room. As Bridge entered the room, he noticed something strange. Gruumm seemed to be lost in thought, and several uncomfortable seconds passed before the warlord noticed Bridge and beckoned him closer.

“It’s so close,” Gruumm said. “I can almost taste it. Soon, SPD will fall and Earth will be mine. And Anubis “Doggie” Cruger will be at my mercy.” The warlord looked at him.“How does it feel, human? To know that you are responsible for the conquest of Earth?”

“Not so great, actually,” Bridge said. “I betrayed my friends, the only family I had. But I couldn’t watch Earth be destroyed either, so I guess I made the right choice, although…” Gruumm’s eyes were beginning to glow angrily, so he trailed off.

“Why do you hate Commander Cruger so much?” Bridge asked bravely. “I mean, I know that you fought him before, but I bet you’ve fought lots of people, not just him, and you really seem to hate Cruger.”

Bridge didn’t really expect an answer, but Gruumm spoke again. “How much do you know about Sirius, ranger? I destroyed his world, but he took my horn. No one humiliates me and lives.”

Bridge privately thought that Cruger had been punished enough. His planet had been destroyed and, if the rumors were correct, his wife had been killed during the battle. Now Cruger stood to lose everything once more.

Gruumm, however, was clearly finished reminiscing about the past. “Deep inside SPD is a crystal. This crystal allows SPD headquarters to transform into the command megazord. You’re going to take it and bring it to me.”

“That crystal is in the most heavily guarded part of SPD,” Bridge objected. “There’s no way I can steal it without getting caught.”

“Didn’t I tell you this was your last assignment?” Mora piped up. “If they catch you, you’ll just have to fight your way out. Even you should be able to handle that. When you leave SPD, you’ll be teleported here.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bridge said. After all, it wasn’t like he had a choice.

“Of course you will,” Mora said and smiled. “You’ll do it, or you’ll die trying.”

—

Escaping his krybot escort was easy; the hard part was finding the correct room. The Troobian spaceship was a labyrinth of passageways and hidden doors, each made out of the same sinewy green material. Maybe the Troobians grew their ships instead of building them – he could always ask Mora, maybe she would know.

An orange-head krybot approached, and Bridge pressed himself against the wall, hiding in the shadows until it passed. Taking a winding set of stairs to the lower level, Bridge reached a doorway which opened into a large room.

At the far back of the room, Piggy was locked in a cage. Every once in a while, Piggy would pace from one side of his tiny prison to the other, looking anxiously at his two krybot guards.

Making sure the krybots couldn’t see him, Bridge took off his gloves. Green lightning leapt between the guards and both krybots slumped to the ground, smoke rising from their bodies.

Using his new powers was becoming easier, almost second nature. Bridge tried not to think about it; after all, maybe the powers themselves were evil, and the more he used them the worse he’d become.

Inside the cage, Piggy got to his feet and backed away as far as he could. “You. You’re here. And you’re working with Broodwing… and the Troobians?”

Piggy shook his head in amazement. “Honestly, I didn’t think you ranger types had it in you. I guess the whole justice and protecting the planet thing was just talk after all!” Oddly, Piggy felt a little disappointed.

“The protecting the planet part isn’t just talk,” Bridge said. “Although maybe the justice thing is. Anyhow, I’m here because Broodwing sent me to kill you.”

“Oh,” Piggy said ineloquently. What else could he say? “Well, you really, really, don’t want to do that.”

—

To Be Continued

—

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—
Not Today

Chapter 3: An Untitled Tragedy in Three Parts (Part 1)

—

The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think. — Horace Walpole

—

Will Stronghold

—

Torture is an interesting thing. It breaks some and makes others malleable, even cooperative. In certain people it only hardens resolve, making the victim cling even tighter to their principles. I know this from experience. Some supervillains torture indiscriminately, but I am not one of those.

I don’t hold back out of kindness or any sense of nostalgia. I know myself better than that and, more importantly, I know Warren better than that. I would be willing to bet my fortune on the fact that he is, even now, planning some sort of escape.

I could torture him, but he expects that.

It was always expected that I would become a great hero and follow in my parent’s footsteps. Instead, I have become one of the most feared villains in the world. I’ve killed more superheroes than I can count, and that’s not even including civilians and sidekicks. I’m in the running to be the greatest mass-murderer of the twenty-first century. At this rate, my record might even hold into the twenty-second.

Warren, on the other hand, was always expected to be a powerful supervillain, just like his father. You can see how that turned out. Warren was always determined to defy expectations and to walk his own path. That’s how he wound up locked in a cage in my laboratory.

It took me a long time to realize that expectations are the past trying to influence your actions. Warren may choose to defy them, but they don’t apply to me. I haven’t forgotten the past.

I’ve obliterated it.

—

Royal Pain/Gwen Grayson

—

Nobody notices me. Nobody notices Gwen, either, and we’re very good at sneaking. We have to be. There’s no other way to survive this place.

We’re good at building things and finding things out. That’s why Devastator keeps us alive. One day, we’ll know too much, and Devastator will decide that it’s time for us to die.

Maybe that day is today.

I can hear them talking. Maybe I’ll sneak closer, just a little closer, and watch. Let me tell you what I saw, so that you can know a secret, too. Do you remember what they used to say about secrets and three men and having to kill two of them? I think I killed all three. I don’t remember. Dead men look pretty much the same after a while, you know.

Shhhh! What’s wrong with you? Why won’t you be quiet? We’re going to get caught.

They’re at it again. Look.

—-

“You’ll pay for this. Maybe it won’t be me, but someone will stop you.”

“Like who?” Devastator is speaking. I don’t need to see his face to know that. All I can see from my hiding place is his boots. The boots are made of black leather, with dull brown flecks. The little flecks may be dried, but I know they’re blood. I can smell it, taste it.

I wonder if Phoenix’s blood will taste any different from the others. Maybe, if I beg long enough, Devastator will let me try it. I doubt it. He’s keeping this one all to himself.

The boots are still talking. They’re giving a standard supervillain speech. It’s not as good as mine, but it’s familiar, common. I’ve heard it a hundred times before. “The Bureau of Superheroes is too afraid to even make a statement against me. You were always the thorn in my side, the last obstacle in my conquest of this city.” The blood sings a little chorus, drowning out the rest of what Devastator says. “… What do you have to say to that, hero?”

There are two sets of shoes now. They’re close, closer than they should be. Maybe Phoenix will try to escape. He’s opening the cage? He shouldn’t do that. He’s insane, but I don’t question the master. It’s not my place.

Another voice. That must be Phoenix again. There’s no one else here except for me, and I’m not talking to her. “I don’t have to say anything. I think what happened to Layla says it all.”

Devastator is furious. “I didn’t kill Layla!” He shouts, throwing Warren against the cage bars. I’ve never seen anyone make him so angry and live.

The hero gets to his feet, a little unsteadily. He wipes his mouth. There’s blood on his sleeve. “No, instead you betrayed everything she ever believed in.” Devastator grabs him and hits him again. Then he takes him back to the cage.

He’s locking him in? I thought he was going to kill him. That’s boring. But interesting. Actually, it’s just interesting. This prisoner is different, special. He means something to Devastator, so he means something to me.

Maybe we can use that.

Phoenix is in the cage now, leaning against the bars at the back. I can hear his breathing – it’s labored and shallow. He thinks he has it rough. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.

After a while, Devastator turns away and leaves the room. His boots go with him. He’s still angry; his footsteps are harsher, heavier than normal. He’ll probably go kill someone.

I think I’m going to go hide somewhere else now.

—

To Be Continued

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—

Chapter 2: Me, Myself and I

—

Gwen Grayson

—

My name is Gwen Grayson.

No, no. That’s not how it goes. Let me start over.

My name is Royal Pain, but nobody calls me that anymore. In fact, no one has called me that since Lash came to the dungeons. He didn’t last long, but it was long enough for me to remember who I was, and who I was supposed to be serving.

I liked being called by my name. For a while there, I’d almost forgotten it. In this place, I’m just Gwen or Grayson or simply ‘you’.

You take out the trash. No, not you. We. We’re going to take out the trash.

I laugh, and it sounds thin and high. I’m beginning to think that I’ve become as insane as that hideous gremlin who raised me. Living two lives can do that to you; I have no idea how Baron Battle can stand it, the whole dying and living and dying again. Even though, I suppose, I only lived once and never truly died.

We. We never truly died.

We’re taking out the trash now. This trash is heavy and smells like burnt flesh. We have to drag it to the trash chute. Maybe this time Devastator burnt enough off the corpse that it’ll fit down the chute, and I won’t have to go dispose of it myself.

Or, rather, Gwen won’t have to dispose of it. Royal Pain doesn’t do chores. I didn’t do them in prison and I won’t do them here. Gwen can live in filth and disease. Gwen can be humbled and humiliated by the Stronghold brat. Royal Pain will wait and think, plot and scheme, until she has her revenge.

And then we will both be free.

—

Warren Peace

—

The floor tiles have tiny lines between them, a subtle pattern which I only just noticed. I raise my eyes to the top of the cage. While the bottom bars of the cage are bolted to the floor, the joints on the top look like they are welded to each other. It’s an obvious weak point in the design.

Will is wrong if he thinks I’m going to die in this cage, like some sort of neglected pet.

I rub at my neck, twisting my fingers to reach under the collar. I’m sweating, and my neck itches every time the collar shifts and chafes. Before today, I had never realized how humiliating wearing a collar is; if I live long enough to buy a dog, I’ll find some other way to tag it.

My powers aren’t working. Maybe it’s the collar, maybe it’s the room itself. I’m betting on the former – it wouldn’t make any sense for Devastator to install a suppressor which would also affect his own abilities.

I hate him. No, I really do. I’m not just saying it this time.

The lights are beginning to dim. They are probably tied to a day/night cycle, which means that I’ve been here for hours. I wonder if Will sleeps. For all I know, he could have invented a device which allows him to stay awake all the time and terrorize the city twenty-four hours a day.

Actually, he’s probably just leaving me here out of spite. Trying to make me feel unimportant, forgotten.

Nice try, Will. It’s not going to work on me.

I’m not like you. I don’t need other people to make me feel needed. What I do is important – I know this implicitly, without being told. I don’t need others to guide me, to help me tell right from wrong.

I guess you did.

—

Layla Williams

—

If I had lived to see this day, I would have been twenty-seven years.

That’s pretty old.

Maybe, by twenty-seven, I would have been married. Maybe I would have had kids and a house with a beautiful garden. Maybe my kids would have had powers, too. Maybe they would be able to fly, or control the rain. Or maybe they would have been sidekicks and would only have the power to grow different colors of flowers. I would have loved them anyhow.

I used to imagine my wedding. All our friends would be there. Magenta, Zach and Ethan would stand on the left. Warren would stand by himself, on the right. I might have been a real super-heroine. I could have protected the animals and the environment. Mom would have liked that.

Maybe I would have saved the world. Maybe things would have been different.

Maybe none of this would ever have happened if I, Layla Williams, had lived to be twenty-seven years old.

—

To Be Continued

—

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Summary: Many years in the future, Warren Peace finds himself at the mercy of an old friend. Warren X Will slash.
Author: Seren Maris
Genre: Angst/Tragedy
Rating: T

—

Chapter 1: Tempt Fate

—

Will Stronghold

—

The last time Warren and I spoke, and by that I mean really spoke to each other instead of screaming threats, was five years ago.

It was two years after our high school reunion. He may be brash but he’s not completely oblivious; things were changing, and we both knew it. I tried to tell him. I tried to make him understand.

It wasn’t my fault. I never meant for it to happen.

The second statement was more true than the first. I’m not going to say that I lied to Warren that day, any more than I lie every day when I wake up and look in the mirror. But it wasn’t quite the truth either, and we both knew it.

Part of being an adult is taking responsibility for your actions, he told me.

Hearing those words from Warren Peace was strange, humorous even. It was something Layla would have said. She should have been telling me these things, but she wasn’t there, and nothing I could do would change that.

The next time I saw Warren was the day the Bureau of Superheroes took him for questioning about the escape of Baron Battle.

It was all over the news. The supervillain had escaped after serving barely one of his life sentences. Some people argued two (Baron Battle had apparently died in prison, and was subsequently resurrected), but the point remained – Baron Battle was free, and the Bureau had neither the resources nor the firepower to recapture him.

The day they came to arrest him, Warren had a stoic, distant look on his face. He left without a fight, saying nothing to the reporters that swarmed around, shouting for his statement.

The Bureau released him three days later on lack of evidence. They also never completely trusted him again.

I’d like to say that that was the day Warren stopped trusting people. But I think it happened long before then, maybe even the day that my parents destroyed his family and sent his father to prison.

And now, fittingly, the father is free and his son is captured, locked in my prison. I take a closer look at my arch-nemesis, the hero who has sworn to fight me until his dying day. I had hoped that this Warren would be different than the one I was friends with, way back then.

If he was different, maybe it would be easier. Maybe then I would I break every bone in his body, as he screamed for mercy. Or maybe I would just kill him and throw his body into the ocean. I had hoped he would be different because then, when I looked at him, I could see only an enemy.

But this Warren is the same as the one I knew. Maybe he’s little older, a little wiser, but aren’t we all? He has the same eyes, the same stubborn posture and the same angry glare.

He hasn’t changed a bit.

—

Warren Peace

—

Devastator flinches when I call him Will – he doesn’t like being reminded of his given name. That’s why I do it, even though I probably should be begging for my life right now.

I’m too proud for that, too stubborn.

I idly wonder if he’ll snap my neck if I call him Stronghold.

My father once said that a short life with dignity is better than long life of humiliation. That was easy for him to say, since he could reincarnate and live sequence after sequence of short lives.

It’s not so easy for someone like me, who has only one life and one chance at getting things right. I don’t believe in hell, but if I had to choose a deadly sin, pride would be the one.

If I had to choose one for Will, it would probably be wrath, or maybe envy. For all I know, it could be greed.

I’m not sure I know him well enough to tell.

—

Will Stronghold

—

The laboratory is quiet – too quiet. I speak to fill the void.

The words, like most which leave my mouth, are cruel, intended to cut and wound. “I see you’re still fighting evil and defending the weak. Aren’t you tired of playing hero all the time, Phoenix?”

“I don’t play hero. This isn’t a game, Will.” Warren scowls and crosses his arms. “Why did you save me, anyhow? I thought you didn’t take prisoners.”

“Even I make exceptions. I mean, you must be worth something to someone,” I say. “Of course, I’ve heard you haven’t been doing so well lately. Is the life of a superhero too much for you, Phoenix? The stress finally dragging you down?”

“The fact that my father is Baron Battle and that I was once best friends with the most dangerous super-villain in the world doesn’t do much for my reputation.” Warren replies dryly.

Touché. The hero wins this round.

It bothers me that Warren still has the sharper tongue.

—

To Be Continued

—

–back–   (oOo) – next–

—

Chapter 18: The Second Assignment

—

Supreme Commander Fowler Birdie straightened a stack of loose papers on his desk. Putting them aside, he picked up the top note in the stack, giving it a cursory glance.

‘Ah, yes. The Earth situation’.

It was clear that Commander Cruger was incapable of even securing his own command – weeks had passed, and still there were no leads, no results.

Someone had sabotaged the Delta Squad Megazord and infiltrated the base computers, and all indications were that they had escaped scot-free.

There had to be consequences for such things. Someone had to be held accountable. How would it look that Space Patrol Delta, the sworn protectors of the galaxy, had allowed such a thing to happen under their watch?

If this information was leaked to the public, the scandal could cost him his reputation, his very career. Fowler picked up his desk phone and hesitated only a moment before dialing the private number of Commander Anubis Doggie Cruger.

—

Boom stared at the page in front of him. The text swam, then swirled and then seemed to form little patterns on the paper. An ominous, growling noise came from his stomach, earning him a nasty glare from one of the lab assistants.

The doors swung open, and Boom did his best to look busy. Kat, usually an icon of patience, had been on edge lately, and he definitely didn’t want to get on her bad side – 147 years was plenty of time to learn a thing or two about revenge.

Sneaking a glance at the newcomer, Boom sighed in relief. “Hey, Bridge.” The grumpy assistant was still giving him the evil eye, and so Boom gathered his things and got to his feet. “Do you want to go to dinner or something?”

“Sure,” Bridge said, but his attention was immediately drawn to a complex looking project, with several vials of chemicals carefully arranged on a table. “What’s this?”

“Oh, that?” It took Boom a moment to remember. “Dr. Keppel is analyzing some mineral samples from an asteroid…  Interamnia 702, I think.”

“Isn’t that the asteroid which they mine Sarconium from, the one which had that accident in 2015?”

“Yes, that’s the one. Sarconium is… um… unstable when mixed with certain chemicals.” Boom looked up, puzzled. “Why?”

Bridge shrugged. “No reason, really. Are you ready to go?”

—

Jack was walking down the hallway when he saw something very strange.

Bridge and Boom were walking down the corridor, talking animatedly to each other. Sky, who was usually so directed and  goal-driven, was staring after them, seemingly lost in thought. “Hey,” Jack said, clapping Sky on the shoulder. “What’s up?”

Sky jumped in surprise. It was slight, so subtle that only someone who knew him well would notice it. “Jack. I didn’t see you,” Sky said. “I was just… wait, what?”

Jack repeated himself, and watched Sky’s expression shift from confused to guarded in an instant. “I don’t know,” the blue ranger said. “Why?”

“Well, I heard some things and came to find out what’s really going on.”

Sky felt a sudden, intense stab of anger. “Heard from who?”

“Nobody, really.” Jack silently berated himself and wished he had never brought it up. Sky hated gossip almost as much as he hated criminals and could hold a grudge longer than anyone.

“It was Syd, wasn’t it?” He should have known better – Syd was an excellent Ranger, but she was never very good at keeping secrets, especially about other people. “Nothing’s wrong,” Sky said. “Syd just needs to learn to mind her own business.”

“We’re a team,” Jack replied, “If something’s wrong, it’s all of our business.”

Sky shook his head. “Not this time.”

—

Piggy had stayed in many unpleasant places in his life. He’d seen his share of prisons, both SPD and otherwise, and out of all of those, Gruumm’s dungeon rated somewhere between that holding cell on Alandria and the tiny cargo hold in which he’d arrived on Earth. In other words, it wouldn’t be half bad… if it wasn’t for the company.

“You really need to lighten up, guys. Can’t we just all get along?” Piggy asked. The krybots guarding his cage said nothing, only shook their weapons threateningly. “Anyhow, I know this really good joke,” he continued, not discouraged in the slightest. “So a krybot, a Power Ranger and a monkey walk into a bar…”

The krybots didn’t laugh. In fact, they didn’t so much as twitch. Piggy sighed. Cyborgs these days just had no sense of humor.

—

It was chicken and rice day in the cafeteria. Not that Bridge didn’t like chicken and rice, although toast and chicken would have been far better. He just wasn’t that hungry… and hadn’t been for quite a while. It was bad for his health, and Kat would probably notice it eventually.

Recently, though, he couldn’t bring himself to care about things like that. There were a thousand other things to worry about – like what Broodwing was planning, and what Gruumm and Mora would order him to do next.

Boom had left a little earlier, saying that he had to go back to work. As he walked back to the dorms, Bridge heard a soft buzzing noise in his ears, followed by a familiar voice.

‘Ranger…’

Bridge quickly looked around, making sure no one was in hearing distance.

The voice came again. ‘Ranger, can you hear me?’

“Yes, I can hear you. What do you want, Gruumm?”

“Emperor Gruumm,” the Troobian corrected, but Bridge ignored him. Gruumm would never be his emperor, no matter what happened in the end.  “I am very pleased with the information you sent us,” Gruumm continued, “but for our plan to succeed, we need something else… something more.

“Like what?” Bridge asked, already dreading the answer.

“The scientist you call Kat has been developing an upgrade to the Ranger suits,” Gruumm said, “Broodwing tells us that it exists, and is called the SWAT upgrade. You’re going to steal it, and erase the data from the mainframe.”

—

‘Maybe Syd’s right,’ Jack thought. ‘Maybe something really is going on with Sky.’ He’d tried to talk himself out of it, telling himself that it was only his imagination and natural paranoia at work. However, that same paranoia had saved his life several times on the streets, and he knew better than to ignore it now.

And so he watched Sky. Jack watched him in the rec room and on the training grounds. He noticed how Sky watched everyone, as if waiting for something to happen.

Sky was distracted; curt to the point of being rude, even. He was defensive and secretive, even more so than usual. In fact, Sky hadn’t been so tense, so openly hostile since… well, since he had first joined the squad!

Even worse, it looked like Bridge was in on it, too. If Sky was acting overly secretive, Bridge seemed to be avoiding everyone, himself included. In fact, he rarely saw Bridge anymore except at training sessions, or if there was some sort of emergency.

‘They know something, and I’m going to find out what it is,’ Jack thought, determined. He was red ranger, which meant that he was supposed to be in charge – why did it always feel like he was left out of the loop?

Jack got to his feet, and went to look for Bridge.

—

Bridge wasn’t sure whether sabotage, like everything else, was just easier the second time. Or maybe he was just more reckless, and cared less for his own fate.

‘Gruumm wants me to steal the SWAT upgrade,’ Bridge reasoned. Rigorous scientific training had taught him to think through problems in steps, to divide them into little, easily analyzed pieces. ‘I can’t break into Kat’s labs again. They’re too closely watched, especially now.’

‘But there are only a few computers that would have access to that information.’ Anything about the SPD upgrades would be highly classified… if it even existed. Bridge had his doubts – Broodwing was hardly a reliable source of information. On the other hand, he doubted the bat would do anything to antagonize Gruumm, particularly now.

“Well,” Bridge thought, “there’s the computers in the command center.”

That was out of the question. The command center was never empty and besides, it was under constant surveillance. Which left only one option, an option so bold and unexpected it might actually work.

—

To Be Continued

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