The Beginning

Bella Zorosa gasped as she sat up, doubling over in pain. "Oh, my dead-God!" she thought, but actually screamed,"ARRRGH". Why decide to come now? Why not wait until jour father gets home?
She crawls over to the phone and calls her mother.

"Hola?" a sleepy voice drawls, the owner's accent really thick with sleep.

"Mama! It's time! She's coming! Matthias isn't home and I don't know what to do!" She breaks down in violent tears and uncontrollable shakes. She hears the phone drop on the other side, and everything goes black.

When she finally comes around, she is surrounded by strangers in masks. Panic rises up in her throat and threatens to escape until someone lays a hand on her shoulder. She looks up. Matthias. Thank dead-God. He grins down at her and she returns it with a shy smirk just as a searing pain cuts across her stomach. Next thing she knew, she was holding her beautiful baby girl.
She gazed down at the little life in her arms and saw the determination and fire already making itself present deep in her irises.
Her Mama always believed that you will know your child's true name the minute you lay eyes on them. That is how she was named Bella, for her beauty.
No. She would not name her daughter Adeline. Not this brave little storm, her Tormenta Ámino Zorosa.

~15 years later~

"Tory! Por favor, apúrate! De are here!"

Tory stood in front of her full length mirror, despising the image in front of her. How in de world could her Mamá think she would like something like dis? Something dis frilly and-

"Tory!"

She rolled her eyes. "Coming Mamá!"
She glanced at her reflection once more and smirked. She actually looked good.

As she walked out into the hallway, her little brother, Antonio, was chasing his twin, Angelo, who was holding the former's Starship Ranger action figure.
"Darle la espalda! Yo lo tenía primero! Darle la espalda, Angelo! ¡Te odio!" he screamed, tears threatening to overflow.

Angelo stopped short when he saw all of Tory's 5 ft. of height glaring at him and a sheepish grin replaced his gleefull one.

"Lo siento," he said, handing the toy back to his brother, eyes downcast.

Tory looked at Antonio.
"What do you say?"

"Gracias, Angelo," he replied brightly. He grabs Angelo's hand and drags him off to play again.

Tory stared after them, a loving smirk forming at the corners of her mouth, when she remembered she needs to be downstairs. "It's time to become a woman", she thought dryly. She walked down the stairs and into her extravagant backyard. She stared in shock at what had all been done in the few hours she had taken to get ready.
A canopy tent was set up over a dance floor, the trees were strung up with streamers and paper lantern, and it was full of her family. To her utter disgust, she realized her Mamá had invited all boys from the age of 16 to 19 in the neighborhood as well. It was tradition to meet the man you will spend the rest of your life with at your Quinceañera. To be honest, that didn't seem like such a bad idea for Tory, she just wasn't looking forward to dancing with all of them.
Suddenly, there was a lot of ooh-ing and ahh-ing, a bright flash of light, and laughter. Tory inwardly groaned as a handsome boy, no more than 17, walked up to her and offered his hand. She reluctantly took it and he led her to the dance floor. He was actually a good dancer, and she wasn't doing too bad herself. Those last minute lessons with her Papá really paid off.
She was really starting to enjoy herself when she heard a terrified scream and the synchronized metal footsteps. Robots. She quickly turned and ran to find her parents, abandoning her heels in the process.
"Mamá? Papá? Dónde estás?", she screamed.

"Tory!"
Oh, dead-God. Those were the two voices she never wanted that level scared to enter. She turned to find her brothers being held by two robots.

"Mierda," she muttered. She grabbed a piece of splintered wood. As she charged at the robots, her dress caught on a piece of debris and ripped up to her thigh. She stumbled, not expecting this newfound maneuverability. Before the robots had a chance to react, she stabbed one through the throat and spun around and kicked the other in the chest, releasing the twins.
She turned to them and said, "Go! Run! Get away from here! Por favor!"
They ran just as a robot yanked Tory up by the hair. She struggled as the robot and two "friends" hung her upside down from her favorite climbing tree. One of them pulled the shard of wood from their fallen comrade's neck.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You will not win, puny hu-man," they chanted.
She forsaw their intentions and struggled harder against her bindings, rubbing raw spots around her ankles.
She braced herself for the first hit. She bit down on her lip hard as splinters inserted themselves into her flesh.
"Eso es todo lo que tienes?", her voice filled with venom. "Usted es patético! ¡Vamos! Dame todo lo que tienes!"
She couldn't hold back a yelp of pain as the next hit went right to her temple. They could kill her, but she was not giving them the satisfaction of hearing her scream. She fought for consciousness as the robot was rearing up for the next hit.

"HEY! DICKHEADS!"

The voice pierced through Tory's mind. Definitely American. Southern, but can't place which region. She heard the distinct 'pew' of zapper fire sound three times and the crunch of metal hitting the ground. She felt herself drop and landed painfully in someone's well-toned arms. She looked up and gasped. She was staring into the bluest eyes has ever seen. That's not saying much since she has never seen blue eyes in her life.
"Who are jou?" she asked.
"The name's Up. Lieutenant Up."
"Gracias. I'm..." The last of her reply was lost as she finally welcomed unconsciousness.

Lt. Up handed the young girl, she looked no more than 12, to one of his superiors and went back to the house to search for any more survivors. The first bedroom he came to was fairly small, painted dark blue, and had two twin size beds. At least, that's what was left of it. He sighed and turned to walk out, but, as he crossed the threshold, he stepped on something. He picked it up and discovered it was a Starship Ranger action figure. A sad smile pulled at the sides of his mouth. He pocketed it and carried on to the next room.

This one was larger than the other one, but not by much. It obviously belonged to a girl, most likely the one he just rescued, yet he couldn't place why he knew that. The shelves on the walls were cluttered with a variety of blades and a few homemade spears, the walls were a blood red, and the closet was full of cargo pants, tank tops, and combat boots. He gathered up what seemed useful enough to salvage. When he came to the bed, he saw a yellow baby blanket with TAZ embroidered on it in pink.

Taz. What a fitting name. He smiled to himself and walked back to the drop pod. All the way he was thinking of the girl. Taz. After what he had seen her do, there was no way he was gonna allow her to live in the refugee camp. She was gonna be one of the greatest Starship Rangers the universe has ever seen and he was gonna make it happen.
Taz. Perfect. In every way.