AU: He stared at the woman before him. She was hardened now, a reckless warrior whose very heart and soul were poisoned by the seasons of war. And he hoped to God that his hateful words would burn her badly, because if they didn't then it meant she was truly lost to him.
Disclaimer: PR is not mine. I make no money. Belongs to Saban again, right? I forget. Point is: not mine.
Author's Notes: War is not a pretty thing. I've watched soldiers come and go, and while most seem to cope well… some come back and they aren't quite the same. But perhaps in my fairytale sort of mindset, I hold out hope for them. That they can change, despite what they go through. I believe that with the help of friends and family that people can truly realize that the world isn't such a horrible place. This story follows one particular soldier as the realities of war and life on earth slowly ebb away the person she had once been.
Author's notes 2: This was incredibly hard to write since I no longer have a beta reader. This is the prequel to the rest of the story. After this first part, the story will jump back in time to explain how they arrived to this situation.
Dedicated to soldiers, past, present, & future who have suffered, or are still suffering, from PTSD.
SEASONS OF WAR: PREQUEL
19 July 1998, 08:45
En Route to Quebec, Canada
Crane Zord Cockpit
Alpha Crane narrowed her eyes as she peered out the windshield to her squadron's formation, consisting of the best pilots the United Nations had to offer. Fourteen fighter pilots flew in a V-formation directly behind her. Satisfied that these particular Air Force pilots were more than capable, she turned her attention to the other formation directly north of her where her field leader, Alpha Falcon, led his own squadron.
"Sound off," Alpha Wolf, their Operatives Director, called into their private comm links. He was currently broadcasting from their discreet Command Center well hidden somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. "Toronto, what's your Status?"
"Alpha Rex live," a welcoming voice boomed in her ear.
"Bravo Frog ready to go," someone else chimed in.
"Bravo Bear alive and kickin'!" a far more feminine voice replied.
"Alpha Mastadon ready and loaded," another man greeted.
"We're all present in Toronto and accounted for," Alpha Rex concluded through the airwaves.
"Excellent," Alpha Wolf praised. "Looks like Toronto's ground forces will be well covered with the aid of the Canadian and US Armies. And Quebec?"
"Alpha Falcon checking in," came the all-too-confident declaration of her field leader.
"Alpha Crane live," she spoke into the built-in microphone of her black combat helmet. Not that black was a horrible color, she reminded herself thinking of two particular teammates, but it just didn't quite suit her. Not that was pink did anymore though, she thought wryly. It didn't matter these days; all of their uniforms were now black. The only trace of her former color lay on the patch of her left shoulder, which bore a gold emblem laced around a pink crane.
"We're about 300 kilometers from Quebec," Alpha Falcon added. "Both military flight squadrons will be there in no time."
"Ay-yi-yiiii," drifted their Command Android, Alpha, through the link.
Alpha Crane raised an eyebrow at the sound of his robotic voice, surprised that he had been allowed access to the channel. He was, after all, now permanently damaged after they recovered him. She had actually been joking two years ago when she suggested that they name one of the teams after their friendly robot. But somehow it stuck, and they turned to military lingo to name the second line of rangers, Team Bravo.
They were their own class of soldiers now, addressed formally by military nations as their team name followed by their animal names. Twenty-years-old and she outranked the entire US Military. She frowned at the thought. Not that any of the Rangers would ever have taken orders from anyone outside Zordon. But he was gone now, and the only local aid came from the UN.
"Don't worry about us, Alpha," her field leader spoke again. "We've got this, hands down."
"Affirmative," Alpha Wolf said. "Remember, this is mostly just for show. The power fluctuations and activity stirring in Canada are highly suspicious, but we don't yet know what they mean. Just put up a strong front; make sure whoever's might be causing trouble is aware that we are here to defend if necessary. Who knows? Maybe help has finally come for us. I don't expect too much to go on, but stay on your feet. I know we're not so used to mixing and matching the teams, but given the circumstances this was inevitable. We're on our own in case there's an attack. The others are being directed by Bravo Owl over Australia and New Zealand, and they can't leave their posts."
Alpha Crane thought somewhat sadly of Team Bravo's Operative Director. Only fourteen and grave responsibility had been thrust upon him at a young age. She found she couldn't remember how old she was when she had first been called up. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but feel responsible for the loss of his childhood. But there wasn't time to think about what had already been done. She needed to focus on the recon mission before her. She pushed the young man out of her thoughts.
"Roger that," Alpha Rex agreed.
"I'm switching off and heading to the military channel," Alpha Wolf declared. "Reserve the private Ranger channel for emergencies and necessary intelligence."
"Got it," Bravo Frog agreed.
"What about jokes?" interfered Alpha Mastodon mischievously from Toronto. "Can we tell jokes on the Ranger line?"
She heard Alpha Wolf laugh. "All right, but just one," he replied, still chuckling.
"Let's hear it, Elephant Man!" Bravo Bear giggled.
Alpha Crane had no tolerance for small talk on the radio waves these days. She ignored them and switched her comm link over to the military channel. She could still hear them in case of emergency anyway. But sometimes she grew weary of their attempts to lighten up such serious situations. Situations like life, she thought bitterly.
She peeked over her left shoulder where her second-in-command American Air Force pilot flew in formation with her. Her relationship with the burly African American pilot, James Miller, was jaded but surprisingly stable. She trusted his judgment when it came to the abilities of the squadron, and he – well, he knew better than to trust her judgment and instead put his faith in her fighting skills.
"Everything smooth, Captain Miller?" she asked him seriously.
"Yes, Ma'am," his deep voice replied. He mock saluted her through his windshield when she glanced back at him. She rolled her eyes at the gesture even though she knew he couldn't see her beneath the helmet. She hated being saluted, and he knew it. Unfortunately, that's all the military ever did in her presence besides cower in intimidation or fear.
She brought up her console's computer as she overheard Alpha Falcon check in with his own military second-in-command. A vivid map of their destination Quebec lit up the monitor on her left. They were merely fifteen minutes out.
She was on edge now, as she always was before a mission, no matter how large or small scale. She knew better than to assume that everything would turn out okay, because she knew more than the others that it wouldn't. It never did.
"Alpha Wolf," Alpha Rex chimed in suddenly through the private Ranger comm link, "We've spotted lone unidentified fighter pilot of the alien variety flying circles around Toronto. It looks like it's just surveying the area, but I'm not sure."
Alpha Crane groaned at the predictability of it all. Nothing ever went smoothly for them.
"Keep a trained eye on it," came Alpha Wolf's stern command. "We need to figure out if it's hostile. What's it look like? I can run the description through our database and hopefully pull up some results. Can you get a picture of it, Mastodon?"
"Gimme a second," Alpha Mastodon replied. "It's moving so fast, I need to freeze a camera frame and enhance the image."
"Whenever you're ready," Alpha Wolf said, "I'm standing by."
It was several long seconds before she finally heard his reply. She listened carefully.
"Got it! It's a matte black three-tip fighter jet. The markings on the side are remarkably unique…" he trailed off before continuing. "Let's see…Two red stripes running long-ways along the side and a-"
"-A blue oval with three stars in the middle?" Alpha Crane found herself interrupting him, voice shaky. She had barely even registered that she'd switched her mic over to the private channel, let alone held down the talk button on her comm link.
"Precisely," Alpha Mastodon replied, surprise lacing his tone. "How'd you know?"
Alpha Wolf spoke before she could answer him. "Can you send me the image you captured?"
Unbeknownst to her brothers and sister in arms, Alpha Crane's chest began to constrict very tightly as nightmares of her last encounter with this pilot overwhelmed her. A staggering sense of fear gripped her and she subconsciously clutched her controls tightly. She began to plan urgently in her head, knowing full well that she may very well piss off her teammates again. But it didn't matter, she thought. This was too important.
"Should we take it out?" Alpha Bear was asking, when Alpha Crane began to punch buttons into her console to bring up a course straight to Toronto.
"Not yet," their Operatives Director replied. "I've received the image file, but I don't have the aircraft's symbol on file. I really don't know if it's friendly or not, and we can't run the risk that help has finally come for us-"
Alpha Crane was no longer listening anymore. In her mind, she was always the wiser when it came to giving someone the benefit of a doubt. But she knew arguing with her teammates would get them nowhere. It was time to take precise action. Without a second thought, she flipped her mic back to the military channel.
"Captain Miller," Alpha Crane ordered abruptly, "please take temporary command in my absence. I'm setting course to Toronto."
"Ma'am?" Captain Miller queried hesitantly through the link as she began pressing a series of control buttons in her Zord.
"Negative, Alpha Crane," Alpha Falcon's disapproving voice warned tensely over the military radio. She had a feeling he already knew she had no intention of listening to him. "You are not cleared to engage Toronto."
She ignored him pointedly and maneuvered her Zord downward sharply to get below her formation and clear of both squadrons.
"Ma'am, I don't think-," Captain Miller called wearily through his radio before he was cut off by Alpha Falcon.
"I repeat," her field leader interrupted harshly, the frustration evident in his voice, "Do not engage Toronto! It's covered!"
She continued course as though he hadn't said a word, setting her Zord southwest toward her new destination. She heard her field leader cuss then order his second-in-command to take over his own squadron. She knew instantly that he was coming after her.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" his voice demanded through her comm link. The white light on her console near the radio controls clearly indicated that his message was sent privately through their Ranger channel. The Air Force couldn't hear them.
He pulled his Zord up directly behind hers, as though threatening to strike her down.
She continued to ignore him and pushed the throttle on her thrusters. She knew he wouldn't dare take her out. His Zord may be larger and more powerful on the offensive, but hers was built small for agility and more importantly, speed. The distance between them was gradually growing.
"What's happening?" Alpha Wolf demanded on the private channel. "What's going on?!"
"Kim's gone AWOL!" Alpha Falcon roared angrily.
Alpha Crane rolled her eyes for the second time that morning and still refused to reply. She kept her Zord careening toward Toronto, despite her teammates numerous protests.
"Again?!" her oldest friend, Alpha Rex gasped.
It was totally like Jason, she thought to herself, to butt in wherever she was concerned. She ignored the side comments of her teammates as she careened directly to her destination, taking extra time to turn the volume down a little so she wouldn't be distracted by her team. Her Zord, much faster than the capabilities of an Earth jet, would be nearing Toronto within two minutes. And much to her satisfaction, her view of Alpha Falcon grew smaller behind her. Earth became a haze of scenery as she whipped through Canada with frightening speed, with one personal mission in mind.
Damned be those who dare try to stop her. Damned be those who loved her.
"Kim, PLEASE!" Alpha Falcon was now begging. Though his voice tugged at a small string in her heart, she refused to relent.
Her eyes narrowed as Toronto neared and searched her map. She slowed significantly. Tiny blips on her monitor map indicated where her Toronto teammates were located. Alpha Mastodon had already charted her enemy's flight path. She peered carefully out her windshield and spotted the offensive several kilometers in the distance.
"Locking on," she whispered to herself as she eyed the mystery aircraft in the distance. Without warning, she began to fire precisely.
"Do NOT engage!" Alpha Rex ordered as soon as she fired.
Her enemy was quick and maneuvered its vehicle out of the way easily. It looped easily and began to accelerate in her direction. She pursed her lips tight as they began a terrifying game of chicken. She ignored the uncontrollable turbulence that shook her violently and held down the fire button, aiming directly for the nose of the black aircraft. To her dismay, her laser shots didn't seem to do much to her enemy except ding the alien metal. Though it was clearly threatening her, it made no attempt to fire, simply careening toward her with kamikaze-like demeanor.
"You don't even know if that thing is friendly or not!" Bravo Frog was telling her.
"It's NOT!" she exclaimed frustratingly into her mic as though it were completely obvious, allowing herself to finally speak to them.
"You're gonna crash!" Bravo Bear shrieked at her as the Crane Zord shuddered toward the enemy craft.
With a small squeal, Alpha Crane whipped her spinning Zord out of the path of the rocketing mystery aircraft, just barely missing it. She forced her Zord upside down and pulled back on the joystick with all her might, willing it not to stall out.
"Oh, God!" she heard one of the men say through her comm link as she fought for control of the Zord. In the confusion, she wasn't sure who had spoken.
She was completing her loop, trying to maneuver the Zord toward the black jet to fire again, when the sky above her flashed like lightning. She knew instantly that the enemy was engaging her. She held her breath as she flew through the line of fire, and finally let it out when she escaped the momentary onslaught unscathed.
"Take it down!" This time, she recognized who was speaking. Alpha Rex's frantic order was repeated again. "I said take it down!"
"We can't!" Alpha Mastodon's panicked voice replied. "We'll hit the Crane Zord!"
"Let me take him!" Alpha Crane roared through her headset as she banked left, sacrificing speed.
"Falcon," Alpha Frog asked desperately, ignoring her. "Where the hell are you?!"
"I'm almost there!" her field leader answered quickly.
Alpha Crane growled exasperatedly at her teammates' exchange. She didn't want his help.
The black jet had once again turned on her with frightening speed and began to fire. Alpha Crane was able to see it though, and with Ranger-like reflexes, maneuvered her Zord skillfully out of reach.
Just as she escaped once again, the Falcon Zord roared through the sky above her and began its assault upon the black jet. Anger welled inside her as the Falcon Zord actually hit the jet successfully, causing it to wobble just slightly.
"Get out of the way!" she screamed at Alpha Falcon. "Let me do this!"
"You're out of your mind!" Alpha Falcon hollered back.
"Stay out of this, Oliver!" she cried as she fired at the aircraft once again. Her pink lasers were suddenly accompanied by his lightning-bright white ones. She growled again, but continued to shoot. A part of her knew that together they had a chance to take out the enemy aircraft.
She frowned at the thought. Despite their significant differences they worked well together, especially in the sky, and she hated that fact.
Their adversary was clearly an expert veteran, weaving easily through their tirade of lasers. Alpha Crane pushed her Zord forward, taking advantage of her speed.
"Where are you going? Stick with me!" Alpha Falcon ordered. "We can do this together, dammit!"
She ignored him for the second time that day and purposefully threw herself before his Zord, forcing him to stop firing to avoid hitting her.
"Get out of the way!" he barked at her.
In response, she pushed forward and left him blinded by her exhaust path.
This was her moment, she thought readily, as she neared the enemy jet. She charged her lasers to blast this sucker out of the sky, ignoring the threats her field leader was delivering her from his blind spot behind the Crane Zord.
She narrowed her eyes determinedly as she let loose the charged up laser and watched with delight as it made contact with the black jet's tail. The jet shook with stupor and sparked. Black smoke was now leaking from it.
"Yes!" she cheered to herself as she charged up another shot, determined to make her kill.
But before she could fire, the black jet dove down unexpectedly. Unwilling to let it escape her, she followed after, pointing her Zord downward. She followed it straight into its smoky path, blinded for just a moment. But when she came through the smoke and debris, he was nowhere to be seen.
She cussed angrily when she realized he had disappeared from her radar as well. For a brief moment, she thought that perhaps she had successfully killed it.
But when she heard Alpha Falcon's agitated voice explode through her headset, she knew she was wrong. "Kimberly! LOOK OUT!"
The severity of his tone shook her before she saw the lasers flying past her windshield. She swore vigorously when the Zord convulsed thunderously upon impact. She squealed sharply as she fought for control of the Zord. Her teammates' voices were shouting incomprehensibly through the comm link. She was getting dizzy.
She braced herself for the finishing blow, but it never came. She wondered where the black jet had gone. Unable to assess the situation completely, she instead focused on putting out the fire that was ravaging her left engine intake. Somehow, through the turbulence and nausea she was able to bring up the controls and set the Zord's automated defense mechanism to focus on her left side.
The fire was soon doused, though her wing was still smoking. She had limited control of the Zord, but control nonetheless. She forced the Zord out of its spin and leveled it so she was no longer darting towards the ground. The black jet was nowhere to be seen.
"What happened?" she gasped into her headset once her Zord was steadied. She moaned, out of breath and incredibly nauseous.
"What? Now you're talking to us?" came the snide reply of Alpha Falcon, though she thought she could hear a hint of relief in his voice.
"What happened?" she repeated intensely, refusing to acknowledge her disobedience.
"Falcon saved your ass!" Alpha Rex cut in. "The damn jet was about to KILL you! Tommy interfered and shot it up!"
Alpha Crane rolled her eyes, knowing that her safety wasn't the priority here. "Where is it?!" she demanded urgently.
"It hyper-jumped the hell outta here," Alpha Falcon replied, his voice trembling with anger.
Alpha Crane swore again. "You let it get away?!" she wailed furiously.
"I damaged it pretty good," he explained, voice still tense. "But there's no way we can track it now."
"Fuck!" she moaned. Her chest still felt tight. The heaviness of what had just happened began to dawn on her.
"We need to get you out of here," Alpha Falcon ordered. "Get your damn Zord to the hangar before you pop your other engine intake. I'll escort you."
Alpha Crane sighed, knowing better than to ignore yet another order. "Roger that," she replied dejectedly.
Without another word, she steered her shaky Zord on his right flank flying in formation with him as he led the way to their private hangar.
19 July 1998, 10:15
Ranger Hangar Bay
Hidden in the Rocky Mountains
When Tommy finally climbed out of his Zord, he had seen just in time as Kimberly sent her helmet careening toward the hangar wall in frustration. The helmet, though unscathed, made an echoing crash as it bounced off the wall leaving a small mark.
Tommy stomped thunderously towards her as he slipped his own helmet off and let it drop to the ground noisily. She looked up at him with wide, defensive eyes as he approached. He knew instantly that she was going to try to make a run for it.
"We're not talking about this," she muttered mutinously as she stalked away from him.
Unfortunately for her, Tommy gave her no choice in the matter. He was quick to grab her wrist and spin her so she was forced to face him.
Despite her enhanced Ranger strength, he was much stronger and she found herself unable to wring her arms out of his grip. She glared up at him in rage as though daring him to strike her.
"Let go of me!" she spat venomously, trying vainly to pull herself from his vice-like grip.
"What were you thinking?!" he roared, ignoring her request. "You instigated that dogfight! That goes against all that we stand for!"
"He wasn't friendly!" she screamed. "I couldn't let him kill the others!"
"So you do know that pilot," he concluded, shaking his head disappointedly. "That does not give you the right to abandon your squadron and commit mutiny! Why the hell didn't you just tell us over the comm links that he wasn't friendly?! The guys could've handled it! We could have worked together on this!"
"You wouldn't understand," Kimberly muttered darkly, her voice dropped low and trembling.
"Then make me, dammit!" he cried out, shaking her madly. He was so enraged with the fact that she had shut herself off from all of them in the past year. "For once in your life, tell me why you're doing this!"
She tore her gaze away from him and it enraged him even more. He was fed up with her emotional wall. It hadn't mattered all this time how hard any of them, even Jason, had tried to bring her back to them. She wanted nothing to do with the person she once was. And it killed him to see that.
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he demanded. "Because that's what's going to happen if you keep pulling stupid stunts like this! Do you think we want to lose another team member?!"
At his hurtful words she tried to knee him in the gut, but he blocked it easily with his hip, yanking her closer to gain more control.
"ANSWER ME!" he boomed into her face. "We can't afford to lose you too!"
For a very brief second, she seemed to still, but her momentary grasp on the reality of what she had done was gone before he could even register it. Instead of answering, she screamed again, "Let go of me, Tommy!"
"You want me to let go?!" he bellowed dangerously. His grip tightened, and he knew he was hurting her. "Fine!"
He thrust her away from him violently, and she stumbled backwards but caught her balance. He ignored the way she rubbed her wrists in pain.
He panted wearily as he stared at the woman before him: a woman he had once shared anything and everything with. She was hardened now, a reckless warrior whose very heart and soul were poisoned by the seasons of war. He wanted to hate her, his best friend and former lover, but all he could feel anymore was pity and grievance. She was a danger to the team, and they all knew it. It was only a matter of time before she got herself killed, and there was nothing they could do about it.
"I'm done with you," he growled, voice low and dangerous. He shook his head at her. "I'm done with all of your bullshit. And I'm done cleaning up after you."
He hoped to God that his hateful words would burn her badly, because if they didn't then it meant she was truly lost to him.
He watched as she steeled herself up with a sharp breath. Before he could say another word, she disappeared in a stream of pink, teleporting as far away from him as possible.
Tommy swore. And before he knew it, he sent the bench next to him flying in a deafening crash against their hangar wall. His frustrated roar echoed in the hangar for several long seconds as he pulled at his hair.
He stood there panting still, trying to calm himself and force the negative energy out of his body. But he couldn't stand dealing with this. With her.
"She gone?" a voice startled him.
Tommy looked up at the hangar doorway entrance where his longtime friend and Operatives Director Billy stood leaning. Tommy nodded as he ran a sheepish hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry about the bench," Tommy began pitifully.
"You were loud," Billy explained unnecessarily as he walked up to Tommy. "Not the bench, I mean. You and Kim."
Tommy let out a frustrated sigh as he and Billy proceeded to pick up the bench and return it to its right-side up position. "How many times has this happened now?" the former White Ranger asked rhetorically.
"By my count," Billy replied, "At least once a month since…" He trailed off awkwardly, and Tommy was glad he didn't finish. None of them wanted to relive the horrors of that dreadful time.
Not a mere several years ago, he was the brooding rebellious one and Kim was the one having trouble taming him. At what point in time was it exactly when they had switched roles? He struggled to figure out where it all went wrong. Was it when Zordon first offered them spots on the team? When the Space Rangers went missing? Or was it simply when the first wave of attacks started.
Tommy Oliver could only struggle to decipher when exactly their lives become so fucked up.