SquidgeWorld Archive

Power Rangers Aura Force Episode 01 – 'Beautiful Runaway'

The pavement was dry and hot, and while the clouds above threatened to unleash a bit of rain from the rain storm that was predicated to hit later that day, it was overall the perfect day for a race.

Even the overcast sky did nothing to hamper his mood, his resolute determination or just how much he loved to do this. There was something it that stabilized the man behind the wheel of the formula one red and white race car like nothing else did. It was something he did well and coming from the family he'd had? That was a practical gift.

Letting off the clutch but not riding it, he listened to all that his mind and body told him but filtered out the rest until it was less a process – and one coherent thought and action. He wouldn't say anything cliché like he was 'one with the car' but it was pretty much the only thing he could call it. Out here, if you were anything less, you were two seconds too slow or dead.

From the pit lane, Noah Conners leaned up against the rail and smiled a bit – nudging the smaller man beside him with his shoulder as he nodded out to the track, "He's doing great." he smiled as they watched him pass another lap.

"Yeah." Max grinned, "Couple more places and he might finish first today. C'mon. Let's go meet him before he pulls in. Wouldn't want him to beat us."

"Can't have that." Noah flashed a smile back wrly.

"Stop loitering." a stern voice said as they headed side by side back to the main pit area, their teammate whom they knew as Ariso looking up irritably from her watch, "He'll be here in less than thirty seconds."

"We're on time Ariso." Max smiled, "Chill."

"That's such an outdated term." she muttered with a sigh, turning her eyes back to the track.

Ariso was right about the time, and that wasn't anything uncharacteristic of the shorter stature – stern teammate of theirs. If there was anything Ariso knew, it was punctuality and around thirty seconds later the Mazda formula one car with Donovan, their team leader at the wheel, pulled in – it's 'Lucky Strike' front hood the first to greet them before the rest of the car pulled in.<

Noah moved confidently and efficiently – quickly – though Max wasn't far behind, both working like a team of their own to reset the tires.

"Get the fuel Max." Noah said as he put the last tire down and reached for the new one, rolling it over.

"I got it, I got it." the smaller man replied, Noah looking over with a smile as screwed in the second to last bolt while his teammate stood a bit on his tip toes to maneuver the nozzle into place and hold it there.

They'd used to wonder why their leader and mentor that they worked under had assigned them to have their own race team – with an outdated set of cars, centuries and centuries old in the making no less – why they even had to do this at all. But it was teamwork, a constant practice – something by now they had down nearly to a fine art that was the end result. It had made it all clear pretty fast, in those first stumbling moments.

"How's the car Donovan?" Helena grinned, all her usual pep and cool cheerfulness as she leaned against the now open top, resting her elbows and arms on the side as Donovan took off his helmet and gave her a smile of his own.

"Never better."

"Noah! Faster already!" Ariso snapped, "We're going to fall too far behind!"

She almost startled him, Noah on the last tire when she'd made the sudden declarative statement – to the point that the drill bit slipped and he almost hit his hand on the tire. Concentration interrupted, he had to have a lot of it just to make up for his site impairments in situations any normal person took for granted, it didn't do much for his mood. The boot on his foot didn't help.

"Well then get off my foot!" he growled a bit.


"What?" she asked offhandedly, sounding irritated at being interrupted from any further yelling, "Oh!" she stepped back, but an apology wasn't exactly on her tongue and Noah didn't look for one either.

"Easy guys, we've got time. Just relax." Donovan said.


"We're done." Noah said, stepping back, motioning for the pit crew they had on their team to put the top back up and in place, Donovan slipping back into the driver's seat and positioning his helmet back on.

From the grandstands, unseen from where the team was and unable to be heard from the roar of the cars and the selective crowd gathered – a woman's shouts to Donovan went unheard.

Not far away, but in a location undisclosed, a lone man sat – in a quiet office, dark and isolated even in the well populated building that he was in. For the region, it wasn't a remarkable building. For any that knew it for what it was, it was like the great and now extinct capitol building of centuries long since passed. Not that the human race made anything 'great' anymore. No... not hardly.

"Sir?"

He'd allowed the lieutenant into his office just a brief second before and while the confidential file folder in his hand was blank and unreadable – he didn't need to place the sensor on top into a reader to see and know the words that were on it. He'd known within the depths of his soul with all conviction that he'd be denied. It was a test for humanity, he'd thrown them a lifeline to save themselves, and now all he had to do was watch them drown.

But he'd do a lot more than that.

And the audacity they had of all things to pass the information onto him this way. In an age of technology and supposed rebirth, a data transfer, an official note would have been much simpler and faster. But this was more official, more defining of a refusal. This was a no that would forever be a no. And this was the day that humanity would loathe they didn't say yes.

Turning in his chair to face the large, one way panel window behind his desk, with passing interest he watched the passing gravitational cars flit this way and that. Busy people, busy to get to no where in particular. Uncaring and thoughtless and totally and absolutely blissfully unaware.

"Read it to me." he told the lieutenant.

"Sir it's for your eyes only..."

"Do it." he rebuked quietly, with a flash of irritation.

"Yes, sir." the man cleared his throat and took a breath, "The council hereby regrets to inform you that you're operational contingencies for mechanized warfare has at this time been deemed too great of a risk and too great of a financial investment that the country and the planet doesn't at this time need-"

"The end lieutenant. Read the end." he broke in quietly.


There was a pause and then the man complied with his order, "Operation Mechanized Rebirth is officially terminated as of oh seven hundred, on this day – July seventh, year twenty five fifteen not pending review."


"Hm." he smiled, the sound more a grunt than anything. He couldn't help but find their stupidity the least bit... humorous. As much as it was pathetic.


Rising to his feet, feeling the weight of all that had just been passed to him, he paused to consider the man holding the confidential report in front of him as he turned. He was nameless. His name didn't really matter. Just like everyone else on this planet, he was either dead – would be dead – or he would be reborn. He wondered if this is what God had felt like in biblical times when he'd set loose up on the world the plagues.


Perhaps.


Too bad humanity hadn't learned his lesson then.


"General?" the lieutenant asked.

General Thelax turned once more to regard the sprawling city before him and drew in a breath as he put his hands behind his back, "You're dismissed."

They'd all be.

The checkered flag swept down just as the other car that had been tailing him for the last lap swept past, Donovan not exactly feeling disappointed and more happy. It was a good race and it had been, he'd shake the guys hand when it was over. And second wasn't that bad at all. He could be happy with that. Though it would be hard to explain to Ariso. And that thought drew a smile from him.

As he pulled the car around the corner and prepared to slow it down and pull into pit lane, he wondered how her and Noah hadn't killed each other yet.

It was then that he saw her, and almost too late to even stop or to think about the cars behind him. What she was doing here, waving her arms and shouting her name as she desperately tried to get him to stop was beyond him but he was terrified as to what the reason might be.

He'd been with Meliea for two years now. Two happy, blissful years when they weren't trying to run and dodge the fact that her father absolutely despised him. They'd stayed together through the Oppression, he'd heard all her troubles as she'd slowly watched her father slip into what she feared was madness. Was it all going to start like this?

"Get out of the way!" he yelled, even though she couldn't hear him. He almost wanted to squeeze his eyes shut as he slammed the breaks down to stop so that he wouldn't see what would probably happen next.

He thought he heard her scream.

"What happened?" Noah asked, breath catching as he looked around for the cause of Donovan suddenly slamming the breaks. They couldn't see what was in front of him, he was too far away and he'd been nearly out of sight when it had happened.

Everyone feared the worse, Max grabbed some binoculars and tapping Noah's arm, "Here get me up!"

Noah let out a breath that he didn't try to let be worry or agitation, he wasn't a ladder, and bent down so that the Chinese Boxer could jump up onto his back – easily maneuvering onto his shoulders like an acrobat.

From behind his sunglasses he squinted as he stood up straight, holding onto the other man's legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

"What do you see?" Helena asked worriedly, dancing around on her feet and trying to get on her tip toes to try and see something.

Max watched as Donovan's door opened, pressing the telescopic zoom on the binoculars, the world blurring as it immediately snapped into focus' closer and pulled everything in closure. When the blurring stopped, Donovan he could see was racing over towards someone, who didn't appear to be hurt – but he reflexively gripped the binoculars in his hand at the sight of who she was.

"It's Meliea!" he said, looking down at Noah.

Noah glanced up at him, frowning into this distance, "What is she doing out there?"

"You have to come with me!" Meliea said, grabbing his hand. She was as alarmed and panicked as he'd ever seen her, tears streaming down her face, tugging at his hand desperately. She wasn't thinking, she wasn't thinking of anything at all but panic and Donovan quickly grabbed her arms, leaning down to catch her eyes with his own as he gently squeezed.

"Mel? Look at me. What happened."

"My father. The order came in today to cancel his program. The last thing he said to me was that it was time." she drew in a breathless, halting gasp and her bottom lip trembled, "I knew the way that he looked at me that he was going to do something horrible. Donovan I..." a slow tear strayed down the side of her face, "He's got terrible things planned. He's made horrible things. He looks at human beings like insects. I know this is it. He's changed, it's all changed-" she sobbed, trying to break away from him.

He caught her, feeling as if his heart had migrated to his throat. His mouth went dry and his stomach clenched almost painfully. They'd suspected it for awhile. That he'd already snapped and he might be mobilizing a threat. It was the whole reason why Aura Force had been formed. It felt like a precipice had just been fallen over, that they'd been shoved while they weren't looking. And suddenly he felt fear. He wouldn't call himself a hero. He was a human being and he felt fear.

"I'm not going to lose you." he swore to her, focusing on that at least, pulling her into his arms.

"You are." she whispered, going a bit limp against his shoulder, but not fighting. He could feel her shaking, and she felt cold, "I lost my father. And I'm going to lose you."

"Come on." he said, gathering himself and reaching down for her hand, "We can't take the car off the track, it won't go anywhere. But it's not far to everyone else. Let's go." he pulled her into a run with him and her hand held his with the same desperation as before. She ran as if her life was dependent on it.

He didn't even bother changing out of his uniform, they weren't anywhere near the pit area but where they usually parked their bikes or cars in the morning, but on the opposite side of the track now. If he got back to the others, they'd deal with this now – report it back to General Viktor. After all, he was the one who'd seen this coming before anyone else.

A million and one thoughts were racing through his head. Some hundred of those memories, thousands, of him and Meliea. Times at the beach, times just between them, things he was determined not to lose and even more determined to keep anyone else from losing. The Great Oppression had been bad enough, a complete stripping of rights – total and absolute power and control. Economies collapsing, rioting and war. At the time they'd been fighting each other, though Donovan had had no part. He had a feeling now, they'd be fighting something far worse and it was that knowing, that cold knowing.

He couldn't help but almost feel... not ready. Old fears and doubts plagued him, raised in a family where he hadn't been good enough. Now he was the leader of a team that stood between Earth and annihilation. Would they have days to prepare, weeks? No time at all?

Those questions answered themselves with the sound of jets and then barely a micro second later – explosions. He didn't even have time to turn his head and look.

The impact into the ground from the beams of the unrecognizable fighters left explosions of dust in their wake, erupting from either side of his bike as he swerved off into what he hoped as less open territory. Hoping to lose the fighters in the woods. Screw later. This was happening now.

The third one, the third blast, was when whatever luck they'd had ran out. He couldn't avoid the explosion and it threw them, the bike wavering dangerously and pitching as they were thrown off at near to thirty miles and hour. He hadn't really even had time to slow, but even that was fast enough to kill you.

It didn't hurt so bad, surprisingly. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the huge stack of weeds, but it really didn't hurt when he landed, his only thoughts of Meliea and where she was and if she was okay. He forced himself to his feet despite a lot of him just wanting to stay down, calling out her name just as she was staggering to her feet as well – forehead bloodied but alive, dazed but aware enough to know that they had to run.

There were fighters in the sky, they were everywhere and he could only wonder as they ran what they were waiting for. He tried to keep her moving, practically having to hold her up as they ran, ducking down to avoid some tree branches as they ran through the woods – bike abandoned and forgotten. At least they couldn't fire at them from here. Unless of course, that was exactly what they'd wanted.

As soon as they broke into a clearing, Donovan somehow managed to pull them up short – coming to a stop and pulling in a sharp breath at what was in front of them. Soldiers. Faceless, mechanized soldiers. Silent and unmoving, to trace of emotion, no trace of thought. Waiting for them. The slaughter waiting for the lambs.

One of the mechanized soldiers pointed and its toneless voice informed the others, "Acquire them."

"That sounds lovely." Donovan muttered, putting an arm out in front of Meliea and edging more in front of her. He eyed the opposition. There was too many, with guns, and the skies were infested with fighters. He had to find his team and get them out of this in the meantime. Then he'd worry about the rest. But right now, it looked like all they could do was obey.

"They won't hurt me." she whispered but if how her voice was shaking was any indication, she wasn't so sure. Donovan wasn't either.

She was handled a bit more gently, but not much – if one could call the way a mechanized soldier grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward to the waiting transportation craft without a word 'gentle'. He was handled far different, arms pinned behind his back and cuffed painfully with something cold and steel like, an inhuman hand gripping his shoulder and the barrel of a gun jammed into his back as he was willed forward. He glared at them for all it was worth, refusing to stumble as he was rounded up like cattle to join Meliea in the craft.

As they took off, he studied his lover. She looked exhausted, but emotionally more like she was shattered and in shock, sitting from where he was beside her – staring at the floor. They hadn't bothered to restrain her, but it looked like she wasn't going to fight. He ached to reach out and touch her, reassure her with something – a word, anything, but there wasn't anything he could do. What could he say?

They were given an escort by fighters, back to civilization, but what he saw completely took the air from his lungs.

Mirror City was burning.

The technologically advanced inner areas were mounting defenses, but the less technologically advanced parts were defenseless and even the inner city seemed to be powerless against the onslaught of fighters. Buildings were falling, the skies were filling with smoke and for all intensive purposes, it looked to be the end of mankind. The end of the world.

A hate filled him, as he turned his eyes to the emotionless soldiers holding them captive. That they dare do this, that they'd take lives, destroy a world full of thinking and feeling, sentient beings... because what? Humans were less? Humans weren't good enough?

Well he'd heard that his whole damn life and he'd be damned if he'd let a whole race fall because of such a screwed up concept from an equally screwed up human being.

His anger quickly developed into a burning fury as he was forced out of the hovercopter and onto the hot pavement below. His wrists were unbound and hands forced to the back of his head, the barrel of a rifle pressed against the back of his skull as they were urged forward into a walk. It felt more like a funeral march and Donovan looked around, the scared faces, the burning buildings, the quickly mounting destruction, until his eyes found at last the man responsible for it all.

The man they were currently walking towards.

General Thelax didn't look smug, he wasn't even smiling. But he was calm, and sure of himself. The bastard felt like he was doing something right. That was easy to see.

"Mr... 'Luke'." Thelax said, lifting his head to regard him.

Something was pushed into his hands by slim fingers and he almost gave a start, but realized Meliea was passing him something and quickly stuffed the reaction down – keeping his outward reactions down so as not to tip off anyone as he drew in a breath. His hands closed over what felt like a necklace and if this was a good-bye, he thought as his tears threaten to form in his eyes, it was horrible timing. Well... maybe the only time they had left.

He wasn't going to let that happen.

For a second, his fingers brushed against Meliea's and he had to force back the urge to hold them tight, forcing his concentration outward as they withdrew and Thelax continued to speak.

"I don't exactly have any words for you... Mr. Lucas. As much as I've despised you dating my daughter, it wasn't like I had a choice."

"No you didn't." Donovan said, trying to keep from shouting it and the result a quiet, reserved fury, "Because she had a choice. Just like any human being has."

"The Great Oppression was the answer." Thelax said, his eyes flashing, "Human beings are sheep. They'll lead themselves all off a cliff if you let them. They are weak... and pathetic. And over." he glanced up at the soldiers holding him, "Beat him to an inch of his life, show him how weak he is, and then kill him."

"No!" Meliea screamed as he was pulled back and away from them.

Thelax grabbed her by the arm and held her back, shoving her roughly into the arms of some soldiers.

"You can't do this!" she screamed.

"Shut her up." he said tonelessly.

The butt of a rifle connecting with her face silenced her just about the same that something hit Donovan in much the same way. At the same time, a heel connected with his stomach, a cold fist hitting the side of his face. He fell to the ground from the multiple assault, rolling away from his attackers as he struggled to catch his breath, blood dripping from his mouth and onto the pavement below – hot beneath his palms. But he welcomed the burn.

It only fueled the burning feeling of rage inside his chest.

He caught the next attack, forearms threatening to break as he caught a boot from connecting to his ribs, giving a savage twist and spinning the mechanized soldier – spending him crashing to the ground. He kicked up at the next coming at him, feeling something crunch beneath his boot – not give like a human body would, almost sickening in feel. But satisfying.

Donovan regained his feet, grabbing an arm of the next soldier that came at him and smashing his elbow as he turned against the mechanized face. He pushed it into another two and reached up to wipe the blood from the side of his face, watching as a couple more approached – taking out and extending a few taser like sticks.

"Okay." Donovan said quietly, reaching down to push his sleeve up past his left wrist, "No more playing around."

Putting his left foot slightly behind him and his right one forward, Donovan reached out – "Aura Force!" and pulled his hand back to touch the Mask Brace on his wrist. Light enveloped him and he stood, not so much feeling the change as he was aware of it, previous aches and pains vanishing with a rush of Power so great, it nearly knocked him breathless. He was left with his vision altered, perception changed behind a helmet visor – body clad in red and white, emblazoned on his chest the number five.

He looked over for Meliea but she was gone and so was Thelax. Leaving him and a countless number of mechanized soldiers. He was a bit disappointed he didn't have more to break.

Up in the skies the battle was turning and so was it below. The first wave of Thelax's attack was breaking apart under the mostly assembled team of Maskman, the jet emblazoned with yellow known as the Mask Jet flying mostly alongside the similar mechanical fighter know as the Mask Gyro as they dispersed the fighters.

From below, another battle was waging. The Mask Tank and the Mask Turbo Mecha working to disperse the opposition on the ground.

Between themselves they didn't say a word, they didn't speak – moving with a honed type of teamwork that the enemy didn't stand a chance against. Thelax's army seemed unprepared almost, as if they hadn't been expecting any resistance like this at all. Entirely as planned.

On the ground, three generals to Thelax watched with disbelief and hatred – watching as the jets landed and happily waiting to rip them asunder for their insolence. It was one thing for a human to challenge a machine, but it was entirely another for one to best the other.

Seven, Nine, and Three.

Created by Thelax, his most trusted advisers and soldiers out on the field. They'd be among the first to usher in a new world order and these usurpers had no business attempting to dissuade that.

As a yellow clad figure jumped down from a landed jet, Seven put her hand on her hips and gave an unimpressed nod in her direction. "And who might you be?"

Three turned as behind them another arrived, this one in pink – masked helmets, with numbers emblazoned on their chests.

"This is impossible..." Three muttered.

From the ridge above, one in black. Another on the ground in blue. Three angrily noted from her files she'd been programmed with that she'd recognize these primary colors anywhere. Even if one was missing and even if the five of them hadn't been seen for nearly three hundred years.

One by one, with each colored figure – their question was answered.

"Blue Mask!"

Seven turned, just as another voice rang out. "Yellow Mask!"

"Pink Mask!"

"Black Mask!"

"Like it matters!" Seven laughed, "You think that's going to stop General Thelax and a new world order? A rainbow?"

"The likelihood of their victory may be imminent." Nine intoned.

"Oh shut up." Seven snapped, raising a hand, "Mecha Beast – attack!"

An inhuman sound erupted through the dusty air, the city of this portion deserted in the wake of the battle or the one to come – civilians already having fled for their lives. One beast made two, a small dog like creature combining with the other as it moved forward with a swiftness that almost took the assembled Rangers off guard. As much as it was loud, it was ugly.

"They joined up!" Noah shouted a warning, backing up with the others as the thing prepared to fire.

"Mechanically augmented mammals..." Ariso muttered, "Fantastic."

"Move!" Max shouted, trying to push her to the side but they were too close and in an area too open.

Explosions tore up the ground around their feet and their world went white and then orange and red in a burst of fire. It was unlike anything they'd ever felt, even in the toughest of training, the heat seared through their suits – nearly enough to burn. And from above the assault was doubled by more inborn jets. Turning the tide of victory earlier had given them a renewed sense of confidence. Now even the toughest among them might admit that this wasn't looking good.

More explosions, from all angles, the pain nearly overwhelming as they were thrown to their feet. Everywhere around them the world was burning, the air was impossible to breathe.

But just as Thelax's generals and his recently constructed monster prepared to move in, something else came down from the skies. And it reigned down not punishment on the Rangers. But punishment on the ones who'd previously been inflicting it.

Seven was thrown first, the pain an unfamiliar sensation to her but the anger not – her followers scrambling for something resembling cover but there wasn't hardly any on the outskirts of the city such as this.

"Who the hell do they think they are!" Seven yelled.

From the ground, Max smiled through the pain, clenching his hand around some gravel as he recognized the blurred red shape of a fighter above. "Ha... see how you like it." he laughed.

"As I said." Nine said emotionalism, "Imminent."

"You say one more word," Seven said, rounding on her, "I'm going to blow your head off."

They turned as the red jet began to land, Helena forcing herself to her feet right after Noah and turning to help the others up, "Donovan." she smiled.

"He's late." Ariso said angrily but she accepted Helena's help.

For a long moment of silence that appeared to stretch on forever, there was nothing. But the generals were quiet, waiting and the attack for the moment was postponed, the Rangers catching their breath. It didn't take long, over the horizon for a red and white helmet to appear – almost like a mirage as he ran over the hot pavement towards them.

The Maskmen gathered themselves and headed over to a better vantage point, the generals moving to intercept him – standing in his path as they waited for him to get close enough.

"Donovan." Helena smiled.

Noah stoically watched, tense. It was great to see him, alive especially, but he could only wonder at what had happened.

Joining them on the ridge above, they greeted him with open arms, Max even gracing him with a hug though Ariso and Noah both declined such warm responses.

"Sorry I made you guys worry." Donovan said, breathing a slight laugh but his voice sounded pained and Noah clenched his fists, looking down at the villains below.

"I don't want to ask." Seven muttered.

"I'm going to tell you anyway!" Donovan said, pointing a finger at her. Accompanying his battle ready stance, he called out his own to the air. "Red Mask!" he hesitated, clenching a fist around something Noah recognized as a necklace. Max saw it too and they gave each other startled glances. Meliea's.

"And you're going to remember it." Donovan said to Seven, though not really loud enough to hear. But the rest of what he said was, "So long as we're here, we're not letting General Thelax take over this planet. So you can back off now and spare your own lives, or push it – and get what's coming to you."

"Big talk from a human being." Seven sneered.

"We'll see." Donovan murmured.

"You will be purged from this planet." Nine said, "There is no other option to the blight that is the human race."

"And we'll prove it." Three smiled, nodding over at Seven – who raised a hand and signaled their faceless mecha troops forward.

"Let's go guys." Donovan said and headed the run down the ravine to meet the swarm.

In the fray, Donovan fought to keep from being surrounded – kicking out at one and sending it flying back. His foot didn't touch the ground, the Red Mask bringing it sharply back into the chest of another with a satisfying crunch. The force of the kick threw the faceless mecha backwards into a group of others and Donovan was already rounding to deliver a punishing punch to the face of another advancing.

Nearby, Black Mask unleashed a back hand into the face of one – a kick dispatching another. Max was well on his way to the same number, rendering one obsolete with a few punches and another with a kick and a roundhouse.

Ariso went flying past, launching into a sidekick that took out two faceless mechas and sent them flying into more.

Quickly the foot soldiers fell, Red Mask, Yellow Mask and Pink Mask pushing several of the troops back from the high ground as they fought through them with relative ease and unwavering determination.

From nearby, Max had found a new way to cut down the odds – a straight sword, Noah asking aloud as he fell back a bit, "Where did you get that?"

"I stole it from Three. I though I could probably use it better!" Max smiled, spearing a faceless mecha with the end of it before pulling it out and using it to behead another, Noah having just a second to duck out of the way – lashing out with a side kick to force back another behind Max.

Mask Blade in hand, Donovan slipped past two mechas – slicing one across the chest and the other on the way through, continuing on his way past and coming to a stop as the sparks erupted from the foot soldiers' chests and then they fell.

Mechas scattered at their feet and around the surrounding hillside, neither Noah or Max saw the electric arcs of energy being thrown their direction from Three, both boomerang like projectiles catching them across the chest and exploding – the source of it throwing them both back with sounds and yells of pain.

Nearby, Pink and Yellow barely avoided fiery blasts from a weapon by Nine – one of the blasts tearing into a nearby building and the other detonating at their feet. Screams cut through the air as they were once more tossed down to the pavement like broken marionettes, Helena and Ariso both reeling from the pain.

The team going down wasn't lost on Donovan, who reached out a concerned hand but was suddenly preoccupied by the mecha beast – the dog like thing on its head lashing out with a long tongue and wrapping it around his throat, squeezing immediately and choking the air from his lungs while the suit struggled to protect his windpipe against the onslaught.

Nearly dropping his blade and trying to stay to his feet, he lost the fight to do so as white hot arcs of electricity raced through the beast's tongue and into his body – Donovan falling to the ground. The dog like creature detached, probably to hold him still while the other part of the mecha beast did the rest, as his team moved to surround him and protect him. But the other half of the creature threw them back with energy and if the pain Donovan had been experiencing before had been bad – this was a whole new level.

But his first thought was his team and angrily determined, he forced himself to his feet – reaching out to grasp the thick cord like muscle around his throat. It was like grabbing an electric fence, but he held on as his nerves burned with the pain. He was pulled forward a step, and then another. One more and he'd lose his footing again. So he acted, pulling his tingly and protesting arm up that was holding the Blade and gathering all his strength to cut at the cord like tongue around his throat.

He was pulling back as the thing was pulling forward, and as the Blade sliced through the tongue of the smaller beast it flew back, Donovan nearly doing the same and being caught by the arms of his teammates as they reformed and regrouped. But the mecha beast had done the same and fire erupted from its mouth in a blast, Donovan managing to draw its fire away enough to spare his teammates some of it but not enough.

And laying on the ground, smoking and wondering if this was the state between death and living – this pain but not pain, so much pain it was a whole other surreal state of mind – he decided right then that he was sick of being blown up, he was sick of his team being blown up and he'd had it with General Thelax.

Forcing himself to his feet, the explosions coming fast and furious, the Red Mask charged forward on some what stumbling feet. If he could just get close enough –

Using whatever strength left he had in his body and with the Power aided from the suit, the Red Ranger leaped forward, extending the Blade out in a full fledged strike just as explosions erupted from behind him just where he had been seconds before.

The Blade thrust through the middle of the first beast, Donovan losing his grip and crashing to the ground nearby. Sparks began to fly and instinctively he rolled away, raising a hand against the blinding display of lights as the beast began to make horrible noises of pain. It lashed out as Donovan tried to regain his feet and this time his teammates weren't there to catch him as he was thrown back. But they gathered around him, a hand finding his hip and another on his back and arms.

"Are you all right?" Helena asked, sounding just as winded as he felt.

"Fine." Donovan said, pushing himself to his feet and half stumbling back into Noah and Ariso. He took out his Magnum Laser and locked it into position, "Let's finish this."

The rest assembled their own at the same time, calling out the safety calls in unison. "Laser Magnum!"

They'd often wondered why they had to be so vocal at all. But in the middle of a battle Donovan learned, he really wanted to hear when someone started whipping out weapons.

They fired at the same time, the barrage sending back the beast with both of its bodies attached and sending it crashing to the ground. It had been reeling before but now it was practically finished and Donovan wanted to make that permanent.

Holstering the Magnum's – he raised a fist, "Shot Bomber!"

Forming into their respective positions and with combined energy from their Mask Braces, the large energy canon materialized and formed between them – their gloved hands reaching out to support it as the weapon powered up. From where he was wearing the majority of the power pack that supported the device, Donovan locked on and called that out to his teammates, raising his fists and straightening his arms in confirmation. "Fire!"

He put his hands, one to Ariso's back and the other to Helena's, fighting back the urge to tilt his head down and squeeze his eyes shut against the deafening roar and blast that was probably the equivalent to any nuclear weapon ever made in history or any for that matter of any type – keeping his eyes on the target as the creature roared in pain before it exploded in a fiery blast so powerful, there wasn't really anything left to fall to the ground in smoking pieces when it was over.

From nearby, Seven lashed out and took her anger out on a car – smashing the door in and shoving it over a good few feet, "You haven't seen the last of us."

Donovan gritted his teeth as he looked over the Shot Bomber, watching Seven – Three and Nine make a decisive retreated. He hated to think that she was right. This felt like it was only beginning.

"Everyone okay?" Donovan asked into the silence as they let the Shot Bomber power away.

"I... feel like a roasted weenie." Max declared.

One by one, with a release of tension, they started to laugh a bit – Noah catching Max by the shoulders and giving him a gentle – companionable shake, "That's because you are a weenie."

"Oh thanks."

"And we did get roasted." Helena smiled, breathing a laugh.

"Sorry I was late for the party guys." Donovan said, offering up his own gentle remark and somehow finding a smile.

"Meliea?" Ariso asked.

Donovan had to take a moment to find it within himself to answer, "Thelax took her." he said. And with that, the team's humor respectfully vanished.

"Let's get home guys." Donovan murmured, breaking the silence and reaching out for the few closest Rangers – Helena and Max – throwing his arms over their shoulders.

It was a solemn General Viktor that greeted them.

There was no congratulations, there was only a gaze that missed nothing – assessing them on by one as they entered his personal headquarters. From where he'd watched the battle and from where he no doubt surprised everything.

They'd lined up after reporting in and debriefing, they hadn't even stopped to get a glass of water and the general in direct opposition to Thelax walked slowly down the line of them. There was no disapproving air surrounding him though and for the most part he was placid.

"This isn't over." he said.

"We know, sir." Donovan assured him.

"You all need more training." Viktor continued, "And you'll have it. Starting immediately tommorrow after your injuries, if any, have been assessed."

"More training?" Ariso asked, frowning a bit, "But sir you've already taught us proficiently how to operate all of the Maskmen technology."

"I'm not talking about the Maskmen technology." Viktor said, and a quiet intensity crept into the undercurrent of his voice, "I'm talking about the Aura Power, the power within yourselves. You have to be prepared to learn things, no human being has ever learned... or thought himself capable. And you have to willing to receive it. Your minds must be open."

"Sir I'm not entirely sure what you mean..." Donovan began as Viktor wandered away from him and it was that quickly between the end of the last word he spoke and the pause thereafter that two things happened practically simultaneously. Viktor took out a knife from somewhere unseen, turned to throw it directly at his face and the second before impact – it stopped – frozen in midair as Viktor, with a look of concentration on his face kept his hand held out.

Donovan held his breath, trying to remember what breathing way and Viktor spoke up quietly.

"That Power. The Aura Power. You must ready yourselves to accept it."

The knife fell and Donovan let out the breath he'd been holding as it clattered to the floor, putting his hands on his hips and closing his eyes to try and center himself. Clearing his throat he glanced around at the stunned looks of his teammates and gave Viktor a determined look, "If it's possible, we'll learn it."

"Of course it's possible!" Viktor snapped softly, "Or none of you would be here. Each one of you was chosen for a reason-" he said as he adjusted his uniform top, "Some of you have already overcome physical limitations-" he glanced over at Noah and Max, "And learned to compensate regardless. Others it might not be so clear what your limitations are. But in any case, you are all here for a reason. So prepare yourselves... we begin tomorrow."

Donovan drew in a breath and glanced over at his team, "We'll be ready."

"I'm not so sure-" Max started and Noah stoically reached out and put a hand over his mouth.

"You're dismissed." Viktor said quietly, turning away from them and Max pushed Noah's arm away with a slight glare, the Black Mask giving him a bit of a smile as they filed out after each other.

A new day. Tomorrow would be the start of it. When already it had started. There should be a period of adjustment, Donovan thought. Things had to settle, catch up to him, but the fact of the matter was – it already had. Somewhere, out there Meliea was god only knew where, and her father – a madman, was hellbent on world domination. He didn't need any more adjusting than that.

He was only hoping his team didn't either.

T~B~C