Power Rangers

Jason stared up, the clouds bright and fluffy as they sailed across a cerulean blue sky of late spring. He squinted as he turned his head catching the bright yellow glare of an early afternoon sun. It was a nice day, perfect, he had thought. His chest heaved as his lungs struggled to draw in another breath, the fire in his side consuming the world till, blessedly, his body numbed it.
His vision was darkening at the corners, and his hearing was muted, as if under water. Was that Kimberly crying? He struggled to move his body to see, yet he couldn't feel anything below his waist, could will nothing to move besides his head and left arm. He reached back, a hand, it grasped his weakly, the fingers slick with hot blood and shaking with the effort.
He found a ring on one of the fingers of the hand, Trini, he knew that ring with an intimacy born from hours agonizing over choosing it. When she had said yes to his awkward and embarrassing proposal, his world couldn't have been more complete.
When that hand at last went still he wept, a dry sobbing that hurt deeper then any of the wounds inflicted on his body. And then came the shadow, blotting out the world above him, a wicked emerald monster that stood coldly before his broken and battered form. It said, something, passive and without emotion, cold and inhuman, yet Jason didn't even have the presence of mind to even know, nor care, what it was that his enemy had said. His world was over, his wife dead, his team defeated, so when the cold steel pierced his heart he felt only release, release from this wretched world, and it's horrible betrayals.

Tommy looked down on his battered foes, the Power Rangers, all of them defeated and broken by his hand, and his hand alone. Rita had commanded their demise, a victory that none of the army of putties or monstrosities cooked up by her mad lieutenants could deliver. Only he was able and only he would stand beside his Queen as her champion.
Tommy pulled free his emerald sword from the chest of his rival, the Red Ranger, Jason, his hand entwined with his lovers the Yellow Ranger, Trini. Their battered forms gave him no pause till he turned away and saw the tortured and ruined body of Kimberly and a powerful emotion shook deep beneath the bindings placed meticulously by Ritas magic. He shook with rage and shouted, screamed at the sky with a primal roar echoed by his war machine Dragonzord who thrashed violently, unleashing a volley of deadly missiles that bombarded the harbor district of Angel Grove.

***

Dozens of attempts to destroy the Rangers, dreams of conquering the Earth for years, and not once did the Sorceress Rita ever actually consider what she would do next if victory was ever attained. She sat, stunned on a throne of obsidian as she regarded the blue sphere of earth from the witching lens situated in the middle of her vast throne room populated only by the few denizens of her realm that where not a construct of her own making.
And then he appeared before her, as if from nothing, for she was so absorbed in her inner thoughts that she had not heard the sharp report of his heels on the marble flag stones. Five putties stood behind him, each bearing a grisly gift that stanch with the ichor of decaying flesh born from the remains of the Rangers he had defeated. His helmet removed she could look on his young features, strong and angular with dark hair that framed a cruel smile and cold eyes of a deep emerald green. Those eyes seemed to bore through her skull and see the inner workings of her mind, yet she dismissed the thought as foolish, she could still feel the solid control she had over his will.
"My Champion," she said, her voice deep and sensual, bringing a curious glance from her second Goldar, the lycanthrope warriors red eyes taking in the scene before him with quiet disbelief.
"I present to my Queen, the defeated heads of the Power Rangers, " Said Tommy, kneeling before Rita while placing his hand over his heart as the putties stepped forward in a ritualistic presentation, holding the morbid gifts perfectly still for the sorceress to examine.
Rita looked on at her enemies remains, at once her stomach turning and her heart lifting with joy. She bowed her head and spoke with a solemn tone.
"You have done well my Champion, I see fit only to offer you a reward of your choosing."
She did not know a mans smile could appear to be so threatening, his white teeth like Goldars fangs, bared and challenging. "I ask only to take back which is already rightfully my Queens, Earth. Allow me to lead your armies, and I shall deliver her to you."
Goldar growled, stepping forward as if to challenge the Green Ranger for the position that had always rightfully been his, yet Ritas angry scowl gave him pause and he stepped back, standing at rigid attention yet unable to quiet the shaking rage that caused his body to tremble. Rita looked back to Tommy, noticing his eyes lingering on Goldar with a callous disregard, like a man examining a fly that is normally beneath his attention. The man brought forth an emotion Rita had rarely had cause to know, the icy sensation creeping into her gut took much of her will to not find its way into her voice, "And you shall have it. Baboo,"
The dark creature lingering at her left stepped forward, his head bowed in deference, "How can I serve you my Sorceress?"
"Craft for my Champion an army like no other. We assault Earth, immediately."

The war was long and bitter. Rita had under estimated the lengths to which the peoples of earth would defend their lands. She was also unprepaired for the horrors that her Champion, the Green Ranger, would unleash. Ten years it would go on, when at last the crown of Empress rested on her brow it was heavy and tarnished with the reflection of nuclear holocaust and a radiation blanketed wasteland.

What remained of the human population was either enslaved or hid in the vast ruins of their once proud cities. Goldar had bent towards regaining his lost position, and hurridly whipped those humans that he deemed worthy into a strong and cruel army of shock troopers which he led immediately on a campiegn to raid and pillage nearby systems opened up by Ritas expanding power. Tommy, no, Thomas, as he had taken to being called, had also formed a band of warriors about himself. The Sajin-dori, the word ment nothing to Rita, yet the warriors where unlike anything she had ever seen. Strong, fast, altered by Baboo's artificing to be just as cold and calculating as their proginator. Their ways where strange and secretive, so much so that if Rita had not been confident in her absolute control over Thomas she would of had Goldar and his murderers mob put the entire group to the sword.

She looked onto her throne room in the new palace on Earth, built over the ruins of Angel Grove, the throne itself set squarely on the place where the Rangers had breathed their last. It was populated with denizens from a dozen worlds, diplomats, rivals, court dandies and soldiers all mingling while servants dressed in glittering finery weaved their way among the crowd providing the delights and delicacies won by her armies and squeezed from the territories under the Sorceress flag.

She regarded Thomas, the Green Ranger, having put aside his armor and now prefering a wrapped robe of heavy silks with thick embriodery that she recognized as sorceress symbols of power and control. The garmet was fitting, and when their eyes locked but briefly she questioned her control on her Champion again as those eyes bored into her. He broke his gaze first, smiling at a blue skinned diplomat from some planet she had not bothered to remember the name of who was prattling on to Thomas about something she could not discern.

Rita looked down on this evenings entertainment. Chained men stood shoulder to shoulder, tethered to rings set fast in the ground. Slaves, to be fought in the arena by Goldars soldiers in a display of their military might, yet she was sure it was to be a one sided display as they all appeared tired and beaten, and likely drugged to make their reactions slowed and wits dull. She turned to Baboo who was at her left, the dark creature garbed in a heavy robe of blue that looked awkward on the inventor and advisor. "Where did Goldar say these slaves come from again Baboo?"

Baboo made a show of placing his finger to his lip as if thinking before replying, "I believe he said one of your newest conquests my Empress. Alandria I believe it was."

Rita regarded the slaves, "soldiers then?"

"I believe so Empress."

Rita smiled, "Well then, perhaps it wont be such a one sided battle for Goldar after all." Rita took careful stock of them now, noting the coorded muscles under the layers of filth, the calouses on hands use to hours of hard labor. The last one in the group however seemed to remind her of someone. The angle of his chin, the defiant look in his dark brown eyes. She inclined her head slightly, looking down her nose at the slave and spoke out loud and clear, the court coming to immediate quiet. "You, slave," she pointed a finger like a dagger at the man, "what is your name?"

Every set of eyes shifted from Rita to the slave on the end of the line, immediatly a quiet murmur of whispers surfacing out of the crowd. "Oda," said the slave.

Rita smiled and turned to look towards Thomas, "come my champion, does this, 'Oda', not look familiar?" she said, her words bringing Thomas to the front where he circled the slaves at arms length seeming to not notice the rank smell that occupied the air so close to their unwashed bodies.

"The Red Ranger," he said with a smirk, turning towards Goldar with a brief, antagonizing smile before facing Rita, "Like a ghost come long from the dead. Let us hope he provides at least some diversion during tomorows less important matches," he said with an obvious stab towards Goldar and his mens abilities, which caused the hackles to rise on the Lycanthorpes neck.

"As if your soft bellied men could fight even half as well as my own Lord Thomas, I promise my Empress, that my soldiers shall grant you with a true display of their prowress!" Said Goldar, recieving a few nods from the crowd that where easily swayed by Goldars intimidating size and powerful presence.

"Oh?" Said Thomas, "Then perhaps you would take a wager on the matter?"

Goldars eyes narrowed, knowing that he was walking into a likely trap, yet honor bound to hear the terms layed out by his rival, "Speak then, my men are up to any challenge you could pose."

Thomas grinned and again Rita felt that ice grow in her belly, even now he frightened her, yet Goldar did not seem phased by Thomas's benign gesture. "Weapons, and armor, from my own armory, supplied to these troops. Each to face a warrior of your choosing from your own ranks." Goldar seemed shocked, then laughed, his loud laughter quickly joined in with nervous laughs from several other members of the court.

"That is all? My warriors shall see this wager won for me easily." He said, "to what do we bet?"

Thomas smiled again, that wicked grin that bore his teeth like a wolf bared to his foe, "The honor and integrity of our troop, he who looses must place his lips squarely on the buttocks of the victor."

"I'll be sure to clean my arse tomorow then Lord Thomas, for I fear they shall be meeting your pretty lips tomorow evening." He said with a roar, laughing as he turned towards his officers who each grinned and snickered at Thomas and the slaves, confident in their imminent victory.

Rita looked on to the entire event curiously, knowing full well that her Champion would not so easily place a bet, and was suspicious of his intentions. Yet it would do no good if she intefered with the occasion, instead she sat back in her throne, momentarily forgotten by the crowd that all eagerly began placing wagers on tomorows games.