Power Rangers: Forest Rage

by: Shamrock Holmes

Rated: 13+

Welcome to the Forest, Part 1:

Theodore

Disclaimer: Power Rangers and all its related logos are property of Disney Entertainment and/or Saban Entertainment, and are being used without permission on a non-profit basis. Any original characters belong to me.

In the legends of the Order of the Claw, only one being is more feared than Dai Shi.
In 2026, three teens in Roycton, England will find out why...
Here come the Power Rangers Forest Rage...
Training hard to be the best that we can!
Protecting people from, the evil Lathlic's Plan!
Here come the Power Rangers Forest Rage.
Go... Go... Power Rangers!
Go... Go... Power Rangers... Forest Rage!

I pinched my nose, glancing at the clock in the corner of the central computer screen and sighed. It was nearly one in the morning and I had to be up again in four hours for training before work.

"Any other business?" asked the white-haired middle-aged woman dressed in purple on the centre screen asked.

"Nikki has been hearing rumours that a new Evil is on the move," said one of the others, a younger man with vaguely Middle-Eastern looks. "She and Itasis are trying to run it down."

"Do you have any more information?" asked the woman.

"Could it be Him?" asked my American opposite number, a sandy-haired man in a red tunic. "Could the Abomination be on his way?"

"Maybe," admitted the Middle-Eastern man. "But there's no indications that he's heading for California if so."

"I'll alert Jag and Chee to prepare for an attack on the East Coast," said the sandy-haired man. "Ted, have you received the Morphers?"

"Two days ago, Master Tiga. But I'm still comin' up short on candidates to use 'em," I admitted, slightly ashamed of the fact.

"Even with an entire academy to chose from, that can be difficult."

"If it's meant to happen... it will," offered another man, a Polynesian in black-and-red leather. "Trust me, I know."

"Hopefully, you're right."

"Let's hope so," said the woman. "Good luck everyone, and 'May the Power protect you'."

Taking that as a signal, everyone began signing off and within seconds I was looking at a blank monitor.

"Is everything all right?" asked a voice from behind me, and as I leaned back a pair of feminine arms slid around my shoulders. "You look tired."

"I'm exhausted," I admitted, relishing her embrace. "Nikki an' Itasis think tha' summat's on the move, maybe even Him."

"Here?"

"Probably," I confirmed. "And I'm not ready."

"You'll figure it out, my love. But it's time for bed. You've got another long day ahead and a lot to do."

I nodded and quickly shut down my workstation, then picked up my walking stick and followed her back to bed.

–

I was woken four hours later by the blaring of my alarm clock. Groaning a little, as I still felt tired from my late night, I silenced the alarm and then slipped out of bed and hobbled across to my workout room.

After stretching for a few minutes to get ready, I moved to the first stage of my morning exercises: half-an-hour worth of push-ups, sit-ups, bends, and other body-weight exercises. Once they were completed, I paused again, briefly assessing my condition. Not quite up to my usual standards, I decided. That took at least two or three minutes longer than usual and I'm more out of breath than I should be. Still good enough though. I decided, then after drinking a little water from a bottle in the room's mini-fridge, I moved onto my forms, deciding to focus on my main Ram Technique rather than push myself with some of the more esoteric styles I had a grounding in as I had a long day ahead.

I had just finished a full run-through of my standard form when I heard sounds from the kitchen, indicating that Isabel was up, and then a moment or two later the smell of breakfast cooking, so I stopped and headed for the bathroom and a shower.

After showering, I returned to my bedroom and dressed in my usual winter wardrobe of black trousers, a jade coloured polo-neck and ankle boots, I was just about slip on my favourite jacket, a black one with silver lace on the collar and cuffs when I realized that I had an important appointment later and that a less "flamboyant" – according to Master Tiga – choice might be in order so I slipped on a plain black blazer.

The kitchen clock had just turned to seven when I strolled into the kitchen. Isabel had finished cooking and she was sitting at the table eating. "There are more eggs in the pan and I toasted some soda bread."

"Yeh spoil me, iouniun," I said, before helping myself to a couple of slices of bread and covering them with eggs. I could feel a pair of eyes on me and looked down, smiling at the very credible 'puppy dog' expression – at least as credible as a ten-year old nearly a metre tall, seventy kilo hound can.

"Don't you dare, Ted," said Isabel. "I've just fed him."

"Sorry, Con," I said and then I poured myself a large mug of coffee and joined Isabel at the table.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, then Isabel – who was chasing the last few crumbs of egg around her plate – looked up at me. "What's on the agenda for today, Ted?"

"I'll be in the workshop downstairs with Bill this morning," I replied. "We finally got our first shipment o' Pico 2 Extremes in yesterday's deliveries, so we can start puttin' together some o' the pre-orders. Then after lunch, I've got Court."

"Good luck," said Isabel, as she got up and put her dishes in the sink for me to clean later. "I've got to get to college."

"I won' need luck," I told her. "I'm not the one on trial."

After putting the breakfast dishes on to soak, I turned to the only remaining occupant of the room. "Ready fer a walk?"

"Woof!"

A few hours later, I reported to the Roycton Crown Court and was ushered inside to the witness box and entered. "I affirm tha' the evidence I shall give today, shall be the truth, the whole truth an' nothin' but the truth."

"Please state your name for the record," said the prosecutor.

"Doctor Theodore Barrington, I'm a Forensic Contractor to the North West England Police Service."

"What is your doctorate in, Dr Barrington?"

"I have several degrees includin' three doctorates," I replied. "However, my forensic speciality is Computer Science, with particular emphasis on heuristic data retrieval techniques."

"I believe you were on the development team of the HADRI program, currently used by over three hundred law enforcement agencies and contractors worldwide for this purpose?"

"Yeh're not entirely right there, sir," I replied. "My company, Plicgan Computers, was one o' the official alpha an' beta testers, an' I did submit a number o' patches an' add-ons which were later included in the release, but the actual development team was a joint enterprise between Tricerasoft Solutions an' Hartford Industries."

"I'm sure your contributions were appreciated," said the prosecutor. "How long have you been a Forensic Contractor for the NWEPS?"

"I was introduced to the then-Inspector Coolridge by a mutual friend shortly after I opened Plicgan in 2012. My co-owner, Bill Martin, an' I signed a contract to provide computer forensics support a few months later, after an initial trial period. We have worked with 'em ever since."

The prosecutor then tapped a couple of keys on his tablet and a document came up on the screen in front of me, and the document was automatically sent to the screens of the judge, jurors and the lead defence barrister as well. "Do you recognise this document?"

I nodded, "Tha's my report on the computer recovered from the defendant's flat."

"And you are satisfied that it belongs to the defendant?"

"I am," I replied. "Although the machine is old, virtually an antique in computer terms, we were able to match serial numbers an' credit card statements to a package purchased by the defendant from a computer shop in the south o' England in 2002."

"Were you able to find any evidence on the computer of the defendant's activities?"

"Not initially. The files had been deleted. However, due to the age o' the machine an' installed software, it was possible to reconstruct most o' the contents o' the hard drive."

"And what did you find?"

"A considerable number o' links an' downloads from hard-core porn sites an' forums. Several threatenin' e-mails sent before an' after the incident to the victim, which we confirmed were seen by the victim, an' a piece o' software designed to insert a GPS tracker into the victim's mobile phone."

"Thank you, nothing further," said the prosecutor and sat down.

Then the defence barrister – a young woman that I couldn't recall seeing before – stood up. "That's a very interesting story, Doctor," she said snidely. "And I suppose it might suggest that my client is a stalker."

"I would suggest tha' it proves it, an' tha' he's a pervert, ma'am," I quipped. "Did yeh have a question?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the judge frowning at my 'cheek' but he said nothing.

"I do." she replied. "As possession of pornography is not illegal, providing that it depicts adults..."

"There were no specific indications to the contrary, in the material I recovered," I admitted. "It was the hard-core nature o' the images tha' raised my suspicions."

"As we've established that that is not a crime. Although I suppose you could be right about his preferences." Her tone indicating that she wasn't buying it. "Did you 'find' any evidence specifically linking my client to the victim?"

"As I previously indicated, there were several e-mails sent to the victim, all negative, an' at the defendant's instigation as far as we could tell." I replied. "There were also several forum posts indicatin' an interest in carryin' out sexual assaults an' a post two days before his arrest claimin' he had 'done the deed'."

"Were any names mentioned? Photos? Video?"

"No, ma'am."

"So they do not prove his guilt?" she asked. "He could just have been a 'pervert' who likes to boast. I believe that is common?"

"I believe so," I agreed. "However, the description o' his 'victim' closely resembles the victim in this case as do the events he describes."

"Nothing further for this witness, Your Honour," she said and sat back down.

"Mr. Stain?"

"The Crown has no further questions for this witness, Your Honour."

"Then you may step down, Doctor," said the judge.

"Thank yeh, Your Honour," I said and left the witness box. I was going to head up to the gallery to watch the rest of the case but then my mobile vibrated in my pocket. With all but a couple of numbers blocked, I knew something must be up and so headed for the exit and my truck.

As I slipped behind the wheel of my truck, I tapped the ear-bud in my left ear. "Redial."

"Plicgan Computers, Jacen speaking."

"Jacen, it's Ted," I said, turning the truck out of its parking space and heading towards the exit. "Put Bill on."

The line went quiet for a moment and then another voice spoke, "Bill here. What's up?"

"Yeh' didn' call me a few minutes ago?"

"No, everything's fine and you were in Court."

"Then can yeh check the scanners upstairs? I think we might have a problem."

"I'm on it," he confirmed and then hung up.

I still hadn't heard anything by the time I got back home, so I parked up and hurried down through the basement and up the stairs into the cavernous room that served as my personal workspace. Bill and Chief Inspector Coolridge were both waiting for me. "I take it yeh don' have good news?"

"Mostly, no," admitted Bill. "The blocking sigils in the North West Sector are breaking down. Possibly from the flooding we have earlier in the week. CCTV shows four teenagers accessing the tunnels from Roycton Castle. We're running facial recognition for IDs now."

"Have yeh got any officers in the area?" I asked Coolridge as I replaced Bill at the console, allowing him to return downstairs. "They could be in danger down there."

"I'm waiting on a sit-rep from Control," Coolridge replied. "Most of the regular officers are tied up the Fayre and the Super has some of the armed officers at another incident down the coast."

At the moment, Coolridge's radio beeped, "CI Coolridge, this is Bravo Charlie. Do you receive over?"

"Bravo Charlie, this is CI Coolridge, over."

"Spartan 13 & 4 are available and mobile to Castle Road. You are now Silver 2, you have talk-through.."

"Message received," said Coolridge. "Spartan 13, Spartan 13... Silver 2."

"Silver 2, this is Spartan 13, over."

"Spartan 13, what's your ETA at Castle Road, over?"

"ETA is three minutes, over."

"Standby, Spartan 13," said Coolridge. "Spartan 14, Spartan 14... Silver 2."

"Silver 2, this is is Spartan 14, over."

"Spartan 14, confirm your ETA at location, over?"

"ETA, five minutes, over."

"Understood, Spartan 14."

The search program flashed to signal its completion. "I have the IDs."

"Pull them up on the main screen," said Coolridge.

"Done," I said. "The four kids are Jacob Brock, aged 17; Mikaela Cassidy an' Melissa Champion, born an' resident locally; an' Simon Regis, aged 16 born on Xybria, currently livin' in Roycton under the Non-Terrestrial Displaced Persons Act 2020."

"Any records?"

"Nothing on the natives, just the asylum application for Regis."

"Good. Anything else on the scanners?"

I shook his head.

"Spartan 113, Spartan 13... this is Silver 2."

"Silver 2, Spartan 13 receiving."

"Subjects are one IC1, male; one IC1 female, one IC3 female, one IC5X male believed to be Xybrian. Subjects are believed to be in extreme danger due to possible contact with unknown number of IC0 hostiles and are all minors."

"Understood."

"Use extreme caution. Firearms are not believed to be effective against suspected hostiles, recommend use of Screamers initially and Tazers if required. Do not wait for authorization."

"Message received," replied Spartan 13's radioman. "We are approaching the junction with Castle road, please advise."

I tapped a couple of keys and a red arrow popped up near the flashing square on the screen.

"Turn towards the Castle, there's a set of maintenance stairs down to the Catacombs twenty metres north of the Castle's West Gate, that's your entry point."

"Turning on to Castle Road, I have visual on the Gate. Standby."

"Silver 2, standing by."

A moment or two later, the radio beeped again. "Silver 2, Silver 2, this is Spartan 13, are you receiving?"

"Silver 2, receiving."

"We've accessed the Maintenance Stairs. Do we have a direction over?"

"Nothing confirmed, Spartan 13," said Coolridge.

"Given the amount of time since the breach, if they took a reasonably straight route, I'd said they'd be about half-way to the Castlefields' exits now."

Coolridge nodded. "Spartan 13, unless you see or hear anything different... assume a south-easterly direction towards Castlefields, over."

"Proceeding South-east. Standby."

"Silver 2, standing by," Coolridge confirmed. "Spartan 14, Spartan 14... location, over?"

"Approaching Castle Road, now. ETA thirty seconds."

"When you arrive... hold position at the maintenance stairs," said Coolridge. "You may need to provide cover."

"Understood, Spartan 14 standing by."

"Silver 2, Silver 2, this is Spartan 13."

"Go ahead."

"We've found them! Hostiles in the area!"

"Deploy Screamers!" ordered Coolridge.

"Screamers deployed. Hostiles have backed off, we're attempting to retrieve the subjects now but they're at the bottom of a rock slide. Don't appear to be trapped."

"Understood, do you require assistance?"

"Affirmative."

"Hold position unless the subjects are in immediate danger. I will have Spartan 14 join you for back-up."

"Standing by."

"Spartan 14, Spartan 14... Silver 2."

"Go ahead."

"Proceed to Spartan 13's location and assist with retrieval."

"Message received. Entering the Catacombs, now."

The radio was silent for a few moments, then it beeped again. "Silver 2, Silver 2... this is Spartan 13."

"Go ahead."

"Subjects retrieved. All four are unconscious but don't appear to be seriously injured."

"Understood."

At that moment a thought struck me. Four kids, all basically unharmed after an encounter with the Adexe... "Have 'em brought here. I've got a feelin' they're exactly who we're lookin' for.."

Coolridge nodded, "I'll get a van done there to pick them up."

"I'll get the Morphers."

The year is 2026. For years, the Masters of Pai Zhua have suspected that Dai Shi's defeat was not the end of the Beast Wars and now a new, more insidious threat is rising in England and like Master Ulf before I must lead three teenagers in the battle against one of the complex enemies our world has ever seen. We must succeed or Roycton, and the greater world are doomed. This is my quest, my mission... as mentor of the Power Rangers.

A/N: Thanks again to Alex River Collins and Harley McCoy for their assistance with this chapter. It was originally due to go up about a month ago, but I pulled it so that I could include some of the action scenes above. Chapter 3 will probably be a while as I've only got a few little bits typed up at the moment and I'm likely to be a bit distracted with redundancy meetings over the next week or so. As usual, if you have any questions, do hesitate to PM me.