Disclaimer: Power Rangers Dino Thunder does not belong to me, or anyone I know, and I'm so totally not making profit off of this. But if I was, wouldn't that be a sweet deal?
Author's note / Summary: This is something that Sarafu and I came up with together, and she was kind enough to let me pen it, although this story is not by me, it is by us. We were intrigued by the concept of the Dino Gems choosing their owners, but what if the people who owned the Gem weren't who the Rangers were supposed to be?
Derrick is from the episode "Bully for Ethan", Krista from "The Passion of Conner" and "Thunder Struck 2". They have their reason for being in this, I promise you...
Zeltrax had failed his master for the last time. Or so Mesogog had claimed, after Zeltrax had screwed up yet another plot to destroy the Power Rangers. If he failed one more time, he'd been told, he would be terminated. And the cyborg had no doubt in his addled mind that the reptilian overlord that had given him life would take it away without a second thought.
Zeltrax could save his hide, buying some time by doing something small but powerful for his master. What he had in mind was simple, the alteration of the Triptoids so that they'd be even more powerful when they went against the Rangers. He wasn't nearly as adept with the machinery around the lab as Elsa was, hence his botch-up and the creation of Goldenrod. But his calculations were fairly simple, and he had no doubts that his plan was infallible. He assembled the Triptoids and shoved them into the genome randomizer, adding in the chemicals according to his notes. The machine flared to life, a purplish haze settling over the wiggling Triptoids as they huddled en masse and absorbed Zeltrax's energy boost.
"ZELTRAX!" bellowed his cohort, and with a slight sense of panic settling over him, the cyborg hastened to shut off the machine. Elsa had vowed that if she caught him using the genome randomizer again, she would slice off things he would find valuable, things that Mesogog would be unable to repair. There was validity in the threat, because Elsa's psychotic streak was one of the things he most admired about her.
He flicked switches, the machine still humming as he pulled the Triptoids out in rapid series. He could hear her leather boots echoing down the chamber, coming closer and closer to the lab. With a slight growl of frustration, Zeltrax summoned an invisoportal. He had to get the shimmering, half-infused Triptoids out of here before Elsa saw and reported his misconduct to Mesogog.
"Go," he hissed, pushing the endlessly writhing, babbling mass of them through the portal, and whirling to face Elsa as she banged into the room. The portal closed just a fraction of a second before Elsa had entered, but his back had already been to it, too late to notice that instead of its usual green glow, the portal had been purple like the energy feeding into the Triptoids in his aborted experiment.
"What on earth are you doing, bumbling around in the lab unsupervised?" she said darkly. "If our master catches his grunt doing something beyond his station and intellectual capabilities, he will destroy you without reservation."
"I am aware," said Zeltrax slowly, wishing for perhaps the first time ever that she would just go away. She gave him the once-over with a disapproving eye, and obeyed his silent wishes by flouncing off. Zeltrax let out a raspy breath he'd been unaware of holding, and reopened the portal in an attempt to continue his work.
But the portal was a dead link. The Triptoids did not wait at the other end of it, nor anywhere within it. When Zeltrax tested out the portal himself, it took him exactly two feet forward in the lab.
The Triptoids were missing.
The Day Of The Dino
Dr. Tommy Oliver dismissed Cassidy Cornell's questions, and waited for her to sit down, before he gave his opening day speech, and swept his gaze over the classroom. Half the kids were looking at him with mild, first-day, new-teacher interest; the other half didn't seem to care one way or another. It was not unlike when Tommy had been in high school science. The room was full, except for one empty stool at the front table. He hadn't taken attendance yet, but he'd done a head count, and when he glanced down at the roster, the numbers didn't match. "Is someone missing?"
Conner McKnight was the star of Reefside High School. He was the boy who had made the varsity soccer team as only a freshman. He was the boy that was conceivably the best to look at in his school, the ones the girls flocked to and fawned over. Conner had lived his high school career admired and respected, and he walked all over his teachers. Any trouble that he got himself into, he got himself out of just as quickly with a reassuring, charming smile. Conner believed that nothing was beyond his reach, and that he could get away with anything, and he was right. So he had no worries whatsoever as he loitered on the soccer field that morning, effectively skipping first period. The light breeze panned over his body in the bright morning sunshine, as he stared down his heavily padded freshman goalie, bouncing the soccer ball all over his body in a dramatic show that had the goalie shaking in his shoes. Conner was barely even trying, he was merely showing off, particularly when he launched into a spectacular kick that made the ball soar past his hapless opponent and nearly knock over the net. Conner sighed, slumping slightly in frustration, and groaned, "Dude, you're supposed to try and stop it."
"You sure we're not going to get in trouble for this?" the freshman whined. Conner sighed again elaborately as the boy continued. "I mean, the bell rang, and it's the first day."
"Look," said Conner, just barely clinging onto patience, explaining this yet again. "If anyone says anything, tell them Conner McKnight gave you permission to be out here." He gestured at himself when he spoke his name, as though it would emphasize his point in a way that his words couldn't.
"Yeah, but I heard the new principal is crazy. She worked in a prison or something before she came here."
Conner laughed shortly, already bored. "Don't worry about Randall. She's a woman! And women are just...grown up girls." The freshman waved his hands quickly and made a sound. "Need I say more?" finished Conner.
"I think you've said quite enough, Mr. McKnight," came the icy voice from behind him, the source of the freshman's panic.
Conner blew out his breath before turning slowly and giving her his best smile, the one oozing with charm, that he only saved for the most dire of circumstances. "Principal Randall," he said, trying to find a balance in his tone between gushing and smarmy. "I have heard such great things about you."
"Vicious rumors, I can assure you," she said, fixing him with a no-nonsense stare. Already Conner missed last year's principal. "Go," she said, the one word dripping with a world of trouble for him. Conner sighed with a soft, "Oh man," and walked past her.
Behind him, Principal Randall's voice rose sharply to address the gaping freshman. "What are you looking at?" Conner turned to watch Randall give a kick at one of the spare soccer balls. While it lacked the pomp and circumstance of Conner's display, it bestowed the same power he bragged on the field, and knocked the poor freshman over, not having a chance to duck out of the way. "NOW GET BACK TO CLASS!" she roared at the unfortunate goalie, spread eagle on his face in the grass. Conner hopped quickly to turn away and start back towards the building before Randall could apply that foot elsewhere.
Ethan James was sneaking into the supply shed just off campus, mischief on his mind. Ethan was a genius gamer, and there was nothing about computers that alluded him, but he spent most of his prowess on getting the high score on the latest shoot-em-up or RPG, the winner of last year's Detonation Man tournament. He also used his skills towards creating havoc for the less techno-minded of those around him, and his brilliance, combined complete disregard for authority, made him a favorite at computer club, which was why as he entered the shed, he was accompanied by one of his lackeys from the computer club. "Okay, all clear," said Ethan to his cohort. "Check this out." He opened up his blue backpack, pulling out his laptop. "I wrote a program," he said, pausing to open his laptop and plug it in, before tapping out something on the keyboard, "that generates a code so the sprinklers go at different times every day." He grinned at his compatriot as he hit the command key and waited eagerly for the mayhem.
Kira Ford was heavily made-up, taking center stage in the quad as she sat on one of the benches, bent over her guitar and strummed out a piece she'd been working on. She was opinionated, self-righteous, and loved music above all else, and as a result, wasn't exactly popular at school. She didn't much mind. Nor was she afraid of the spotlight. She didn't crave it, as others around her did, but she didn't shirk away from it. The way she saw it, it was better to be focused on for her music, than be put at the center of attention for far more dangerous things.
I wanna know / know where you're at / I'm at the front but you're still at the back / oh, can you tell me where / tell me where you're at... She hit the chorus of the repeated phrase "freak you out," and then finished to a chorus of claps from lingering students. She liked the song, but it wasn't done. It still felt like it was missing something, and there was a certain lack of emotion to it.
Then a tan skirt came to a stop in front of her, and Kira looked up into the heartless gaze of the new principal. "Miss Ford, I'm afraid you need written permission to perform on school grounds," she intoned coolly, scribbling something down in her open binder. "Let's go."
Kira wasn't fazed. "Are you aware that kids who play an instrument have a fifty percent higher chance of getting into college?" she said calmly, punctuating her statement with a smirk.
"Well." Randall pulled her glasses down her nose slightly, to study Kira over the rims. "You're hardly college material now, are you, Miss Ford?" she said, completely ignoring Kira's offended yelp. "Now come with me."
Conner ran his hand through his hair in annoyance, wisely keeping to the back of the procession to avoid the two pissy alpha females. They made it about ten steps when the sprinklers went off, saturating the lawns, a wave of shrieks rising up as students scattered.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!" groaned Kira, frantically wiping down her wooden guitar. "That's just great," she mumbled.
Randall, however, had her eyes trained on the black boy who was walking through the melee with a calm smile on his face, and a bright blue umbrella opened over his head. "Ethan James," she hissed. "I should have known." She fixed Ethan with a glare that would have made anyone wet themselves. Reefside High was in awe of its new administrator.
"Sit!" barked Randall, ushering the three teens —two wet, one dry, all wearing expressions of extreme displeasure— into the school and parking them on the bench in front of her office. Conner propped up one leg dramatically to strike his most 'poor, tortured me' pose.
"Principal Randall," spoke up Ethan, "I'd just like to mention the fact that there's absolutely no hard evidence linking me to that unfortunate sprinkler incident..."
"Save it for Judge Judy, Mr. James. The three of you have detention," she snapped, biting off the end of each word. "For one week. Starting today. Now if there are no further questions—"
Three voices rose up in anxious chorus, the words blending together unintelligibly, save for Ethan's frantic claim of, "I have computer club!" rising over the protests.
"I didn't think so," continued Randall smugly, strutting past them with absolutely no regard for the fact that she was soaking wet and the most hated person in the school. The door slammed behind her as she pushed into her office.
The trio sat sullenly, and gripping her guitar neck tightly, Kira said, "Okay. Somebody seriously needs a hug."
The silence that surrounded them was consent. Conner lowered his leg to peer around Kira at Ethan. "Dude. Computer club?" he said, both incredulous and with distaste.
Ethan shook his head, and each of them internally rued the actions that had gotten them to this point. None of them were looking forward to their week being spent with the other two.
Devin Del Valle was Cassidy Cornell's sidekick. Like D followed C in the alphabet, Devin followed Cassidy without change or reservation. She was a cheerleader, a socialite and busybody, and most importantly, the anchor for the Reefside High news show. It was a fledgling job, but Cassidy took it seriously, doing any piece she was assigned and many she wasn't, because she loved it. Although there were times when Devin suspected she just loved the sound of her own voice.
Devin was her hapless cameraman, always there with his camcorder strap slung over one shoulder in case she footage was needed and fast. He had another camera, a real one, on loan from the school, but it was only allowed to leave school ground with written permission, so he had a wealth of camcorders of his own, just in case. He saved his allowance and did odd jobs for his collection. Devin loved filming things, particularly nature shots, so he was happy to play the modern-day Jimmy Olsen to Cassidy's Lois Lane.
"Where are we going, Cass?" he asked amiably as Cassidy strutted down the hallway, purpose dark in her eyes.
"We're going to the school secretary and demanding Dr. Oliver's files."
"Why?"
Cassidy stopped dead in front of him, and he screeched to a standstill to avoid running into her. She whirled, blond ponytail swinging as she fixed him with another of her patented annoyed stares. "Because, Devin, there is something off about Dr. Oliver. And I intend to uncover exactly what he's hiding. He didn't want to answer any of my questions this morning."
"Maybe because none of your questions had anything to do with science..?" Devin offered in a nervous voice, and she silenced that thought with another glare before storming off.
Devin was smarter than most people gave him credit for. They assumed that because of his shaggy hair, mismatched clothes, and thick, slow voice, that he was either a stoner, a special ed kid, or just the result of being dropped on his head as an infant. He was none of them, but he let people continue to think so, because it was easier. Devin was a bit of a reporter himself, desperately drinking in information, a side effect from being Cassidy's second-in-command, and he found that his quiet, unobtrusive approach to recon work was much more effective than Cassidy's brash offense. Which was why he knew the second Cassidy's hand hit the doorknob of the school secretary's office that her plan was going to fail miserably. But he followed anyway.
Derrick Cole was the best defense on the Reefside High soccer team. His goal-making kicks left a little something to be desired, but he was fast and strong, a brick wall on wheels. With him on defense and McKnight on offense, there was a reason that the team was undefeated two years running.
Since it was such nice day outside, Derrick's gym class was being held out on the field. He and Conner McKnight sat at edge of the action, leaning back and basking in the sunshine as they watched their classmates with critical eyes. They were stars, and therefore didn't have to commit to gym if they didn't want. Normally Derrick loved gym, he liked beating other kids at sports, but today he just wasn't feeling it. Especially since it was more of a 'free period', with kids just running around and not doing much.
"I heard there's this new place downtown, some kind of juice bar," offered Derrick. "Heidi's Space or something. Wanna check it out after school?"
"No can do, dude. Got detention."
"Are you kidding me?" said Derrick, gaping at his teammate. "Dude. You're Conner McKnight."
"Tell me about it," said Conner despondently. "The new principal is a total psycho. I was practicing this morning —and, okay, maybe I was missing first period, but seriously, what do you do on the first day anyway except fill out those little index cards?— and she totally goes psycho and gives me a week's worth of detention. A week! After school every day, with Ethan James and that singer chick."
"The one who's always screeching in the quad?" said Derrick.
"That's the one. Screeched one time too many, I guess. Randall flipped."
"What did James do? Are they finally doing mandatory punishment for nerds?" Derrick didn't trust anyone that was as smart as Ethan James was. That kid knew enough about computers to run the school, and Derrick didn't like it.
"You heard about the sprinklers this morning, right?" said Conner. "That was him."
Derrick gave a quick, brief nod of understanding, although he was maybe a little impressed. As pranks went, it had been pretty funny. "Dude, catch you later," said Conner suddenly, getting to his feet, tapping Derrick's shoulder, although his eyes were on some blonde who'd waved at him. Derrick rolled his eyes as his teammate went off to flirt. With no one else to do nothing with, Derrick now had to do something, so he picked the scrawniest looking kid he could spot, and asked him to spot as goalie. The kid nodded, oblivious, and Derrick grinned.
Krista Stewart was the teen chair of the Reefside Horticulture Society, an organization which served as both an appreciation for nature, and a forum for the protection of it. She took her duties very seriously, seeing as how the title had been created especially for her. Krista was deeply passionate about ecology and the preservation of the Earth's rapidly dwindling resources, and would have been elected chairperson herself, had the standing chair not been threatened by Krista's visions for the future, and made up a new bylaw in her last moments in office, dictating that chair had to be of legal age. Krista was a senior, and wasn't far from no longer being a minor, but the election had fallen before her eighteenth birthday, and she could only hold the newly-created office of teen chair. She decided to take her title seriously, opting to promote the 'teen' aspect as much as possible, and her goal for the new school year was to bring awareness to the halls of Reefside High.
Her first stop was her third period science teacher, the new Dr. Oliver. He looked to her like a man who'd seen and done a lot, and maybe that and his youth would be enough to sway him to her cause. She approached him after the bell with a confident smile. "Dr. Oliver? Can I ask you something?"
He looked up from the paper he'd been studying, and smiled. "Sure. Um...Krista, right?"
"Yeah. I'm teen chair of the Reefside Horticulture Society, which means I'm also the liaison for the high school, and I was hoping maybe I could use your influence to help promote our latest cause."
His smile was tight, but she was oblivious, oozing the charm as well as she could to sway him. "What exactly do you have in mind?" he said carefully.
"Well, the Society is having a fundraiser this weekend, to raise money for Rivers Park. The city wants to put in a new baseball diamond," she bit out the term with disgust, "but they've agreed that with enough money, we can put in trees behind home plate. It's not the flower garden that we wanted, but it will send a good message to the community. And I was hoping that you could bring up the fundraiser —a bake sale, simple but effective— in your classes during the week." She settled back, squeezing her books to her chest a little more tightly with a satisfied smile. The man would be unable to resist a pitch like that.
"Well, Krista, I don't know if shameless plugs are really in my jurisdiction as a teacher..."
"Dr. Oliver, I care about science as deeply as you do. And isn't the future of this earth as much a part of science as the past? All I'm asking is that you mention it to your classes." She stared him down, then with a tiny sigh, opted to add quietly, "Please?"
Dr. Oliver shook his head with a small laugh. "All right. You've won me over. I'll do you one better—I'll write it on the board and everything. Just give me all the details."
Krista cheered victoriously inside her head, and handed over one of the fliers. "Thank you so much, Dr. Oliver. The Society really appreciates this. I really appreciate this." With a full-blown grin and a wave, she darted off for her next class with a good feeling burbling in her stomach.
Not long after the final bell had rung, Tommy Oliver was headed out for the afternoon. Principal Randall intercepted him in the hallway. "Dr. Oliver," she drawled, "how was your first day?"
"Ah, the kids were great, no problem," he said.
"Good," she said, as they monopolized both sides of the staircase, and students spread out to pass them. "You're going to be seeing a lot more of them. In detention.
"Mind telling me what I did?" he said lightly, a smile on his face. It rapidly faded as he remembered that she had no sense of humor to speak of, as far as he could tell.
Evident by the insincere, pitying half-smirk she flashed him before staring him down over the rims of her glasses. "No, you're in charge of it today."
That was bad. Tommy had already committed the tiny square of his calendar marking today towards other exploits. "Uh, no, actually, I have plans to go to a museum outside of town—" he attempted to explain, but she cut him off.
"Perfect! Bring the little monsters with you. That should be sufficient torture for them," she said.
"Okay, detention, cool," he said weakly, not wanting to argue with his boss on his first day. They paused in the hallway, just around the corner from her office. "I'll stay here. But if I'm going to stay after, then I really need to run out to my car and get something, okay?"
Principal Randall stared at him for a long moment. "It'll only take a second," he assured her. "Besides, the extra moment with you should scare them straight much more effectively than I ever could."
The second the words had left his mouth, he worried that he'd said too much too nastily. But to his surprise —and yet, complete lack of surprise— she smiled. "You do have a point," she said smugly. "All right. But don't be long." She disappeared to deal with the truants, and Tommy sighed to himself, before heading in the direction of the parking lot.
A lesser person would have just jumped in their car and sped off, but Tommy had a nagging sense of responsibility, in addition to a nagging sense of guilt. He shrugged out of his lab coat and tossed it over the passenger seat. The student parking lot had already emptied of those who didn't have some sort of after school program, and there were all of four cars in the teacher's lot, so he didn't worry about his lab coat being snatched from his windowless Jeep. It was a lot warmer now than it had been when he'd arrived that morning, and he rubbed at the back of his neck slightly, before finally deciding to undo his tie. He fumbled with the knot for a second, before sliding it out of his collar, folding up the strip of cloth, and tucking it into his glove compartment. With a nearly imperceptible nod of satisfaction, he collected his briefcase from the front seat and headed back across the quiet campus.
Until a purple light flashed in the sky, and from it tumbled a series of tight, wiry bodies in black and white, yipping furiously as they landed, sized up Tommy, and circled around him, waving wobbly staffs and reminding Tommy of face-painted Putties. He eyed them warily, hoping that it was just a flash of the past, combined with a bout of exhaustion to give it the bright colors, and not what he actually thought it was.
One of the creatures leapt forwards at him, wielding its staff with intent to strike. The briefcase fell to the ground, unnoticed by the retired warrior, even as it opened and spilled its contents on the emerald grass. He fell into a ready stance, ducking out of the way of his attacker, and managing to strike it in the bull's-eye on its chest with a well-placed kick. At this, the chorus of babble rose to an irritated level, and his new friends launched themselves at him.
It was exactly what he'd thought it was.