Wunderkind

Andros turned on the lights in the final room on the tour. They flickered to life with an unpracticed, fluorescent hum, echoing Andros' own hesitation. Tari walked past him and took in the grey, featureless room and the heavy door at the other end.

"This is the vault," Andros ignored the sudden appearance of anticipation on her face and went to the safe's door, punching his password in.

Tari followed close on his heels. "This is where you keep the morphers?"

"Yeah." The lock beeped a confirmation and snapped open. He seized the handle and slowly started to pull the door open.

Tari moved to his side and helped him open the door the rest of the way. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"More security."

He was tempted to point out that most of the ship didn't meet her expectations, but the last thing he wanted was to get into another analysis of 'How Andros Could Have Kept the Megaship in Better Order'. "It's secure enough."

"For your tastes, maybe." Tari walked into the unlit interior of the vault proper, instantly fixated with the sight of the four Astromorphers. Andros watched from the door, leaning one shoulder on it with his arms crossed while her hand lazily grazed the table they were mounted on, stroking it like a long-lost treasure.

"The way I see it," she said, looking up, "these are the most important weapons in the universe. Each one gives Dark Spectre another formidable enemy, and gives us another ally to fight with. They need to be protected until Eltar finds the right people to use them."

"People like you?"

Tari met his challenging stare. "Yes. Like me."

"And what makes you the right person?"

Tari absently scratched the back of her ear as she answered.

"I've always wanted to be a Power Ranger. I was training with the Kerovain military when our home was destroyed, specializing in hand to hand combat specifically because martial artists were being considered as potential Rangers. I survived Dark Spectre's attack thanks to my wits, and spent the last year doing reconnaissance for Eltar." She laughed softly. "In fact, that's exactly what I was doing when I got the message that you were coming here. Never thought that I could fly from Onyx to Eltar in a week, but I was wrong."

Andros wasn't convinced. "Lots of people are trained in martial arts. Many more do reconnaissance against the forces of Evil."

"But not many people watched their home be destroyed. Isn't that reason enough? Isn't that the only reason that matters?" she spat back. The look on her face was one of pure indignation, but disappeared as soon as it became apparent.

"I don't want other people to go through what I did. And the only way I can really prevent it is as a Power Ranger," she finished in monotone. Andros followed her lead and stared at an unremarkable section of the wall, unwilling to look at the fury-filled, golden-haired woman or the four morphers on the table any longer. He didn't want to watch her pick up one of the morphers and irrevocably bind them to a team he wanted no part of.

"Take your morpher." He hoped that she would do it quickly. It would be less painful that way.

"But the Silver one isn't here."

"Why do you want the Digimorpher?" Andros asked darkly, suspicion and anger lacing his thoughts. Zhane was the Silver Ranger. Not her. Whatever her strengths were, she didn't deserve his powers.

She rolled her eyes as if his question was ridiculous. "Because. It's the strongest."

"You can't have it." The words escaped his mouth before he could think twice.

Tari cocked her head. "Why not?"

He debated over what he should tell her. Should he tell Tari that Zhane was alive, albeit barely, now that the subject of the Silver Ranger was in the air? If they were going to be a team, they would have to be honest with each other, and if she spent enough time on the Megaship, she would eventually find out.

But no. There was something about the look in her eyes that made his stomach churn and his heart turn to ice as she stood there, waiting for his answer. Something beyond desperation. Entitlement.

The lie came to his lips easily. "It was destroyed on KO-35."

Tari frowned, eying Andros' poker face critically. He was positive that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, and was trying to decide if he was trying to deceive her. He stared back unflinchingly and without fear of being doubted; if there was one thing Andros had plenty of experience doing, it was hiding his feelings from others.

"Shame," she finally said, directing her attention back to the table. In his mind, Andros breathed a huge sigh of relief himself. She looked at the Astromorphers on the table once more, and after a moment's thought, reached for the yellow one. "I guess this one will do then."

Andros was taken aback. "You mean you don't know which one is yours to begin with?"

"Should I?" She was carefully binding the morpher to her wrist, oblivious to his shocked expression. She had no idea what he was talking about.

It wasn't the reaction Andros had expected. When he'd first approached the Astromorphers, faced with the life-altering choice of which one to pick up, he'd automatically gone for the red. He hadn't realized until after he'd put it on that he'd taken that particular colour, and once he had, it was a non-issue. It was never a question of choice; he'd had no need for critical or conscious thought. When he mentioned his feelings to Zhane, his friend had said he'd experienced something similar too, and Andros had since concluded that a ranger's choice of colour was somehow hardwired into their brains long before they ever came in contact with the Power. The prospect that Tari did not meet his preconceived notion was unsettling.

He struggled to translate his view into words without sounding too antagonistic. "It has something to do with your character. Some people say that Yellows are naturally supportive, or that Silver is a bit of a maverick colour. It's...inherent to a Ranger, like the need to follow the Three Rules of the Power."

"The Three Rules," Tari repeated. Andros knew that she was probably reciting them in her head, just as he did whenever they were mentioned.

Always use the Power to defend, never to attack.

Never use the Power for personal gain.

Never reveal your identity as a Power Ranger needlessly.

Tari stepped away from the morphers, her full attention set on Andros. "I have to disagree. I've read a lot about previous Rangers. You're the first Power Ranger I've ever met, but you're hardly the poster boy for Red Rangers. You're nothing like your predecessors."

She started approached him with confident, measured steps, like a commander inspecting her troops.

"Reds are always flamboyant, strong leaders, and powerful warriors. You're hardly flamboyant, and I don't get the impression that you're a people person. Quite frankly, the only thing you and other Red Rangers have in common is arrogance."

He stared at her, open mouthed, before regaining his composure. "Arrogance?" he repeated. She had the gall to call him arrogant after saying she wanted the Zhane's morpher because 'it's the strongest'?

She calmly headed for the door, either oblivious or just plain unsympathetic to his shock. "Don't get me wrong, Andros, I'm not accusing you of incompetence. But I barely know you, and I've never seen you fight. I want to see how you do for myself before I make a judgment."

"Then fight me yourself." Do it! he thought. Fight me! I bet I could wipe the floor with you.

"All right. Tomorrow morning. There's a clearing south of here, about twenty minutes on foot. No distractions, and we won't be in the repair crew's way while they're fixing the ship."

"Why not now?"

"Because we're both exhausted. Wouldn't you rather fight fresh?"

Andros stared down at his clothes, suddenly aware that he'd been wearing the same ones since the Velocifighter attack. He did want to clean up, now that she mentioned it, but he refused to admit it out loud.

He didn't have to. Seeing that he was starting to grudgingly agree with her reasoning, she took her leave. Andros watched her go, wondering why she had been so adamant about having Zhane's morpher.

Sleep didn't come easily or last long for Andros, and by the following morning, he was anxious to get out of bed. He got up, showered (it was bliss), ate his first proper breakfast in weeks, and went to survey the work done so far on the Megaship. He headed for the bridge first, partly out of habit, and partly because that was where he'd last seen Alpha working the night before.

Alpha was still there, hard at work on the bridge fumbling with wiring and checking the operating systems for errors.

"How's it coming?" he asked, tying his still-wet hair into a ponytail.

"Slowly. But it's coming. Soon she'll be as good as new. Better even." He examined Andros critically. "Where're you off to?"

"For a run," Andros lied. He made a quick exit before Alpha could question him further.

He found the clearing Tari had been talking about without any trouble. It was at the bottom of a small, rocky ravine, connected to the high ground by an almost nonexistent, winding foot path. He could see instantly why she'd selected this particular spot: it was wide, relatively level with the occasional outcropping of Eltar's trademark grey granite, and secluded from prying eyes since it was far enough away from the port and main roads to be a nuisance to all but those capable of picking their way down the unused footpath.

Tari was in the process of putting her long hair back into its usual braid while standing in a shadowy corner along the wall. A small bag of equipment and towels had been tossed behind her where the ravine ended and a cave of some sort began.

She nodded to him as he arrived. "Ground rules: first one pinned or unable to counter wins."

"All right."

"No weapons."

Andros laughed at the absurdity of that. "Never crossed my mind."

After taking up places several feet away from each other, they bowed cordially, and fell into their stances. Andros focused on his breath for a beat, and waited. He wanted to see what she'd do first before going on the offensive.

He didn't have to wait long.

She leaped into the air, angling herself to unleash a fierce kick that was aimed for his chest – a classic opening move for a Power Ranger, and one that Andros knew well, as he also favoured it. He jumped up as well, aiming his fists for her stomach. Both of their moves connected and deflected them off each other, but neither one of them lost control.

They both landed, now somewhat closer together. Tari glared at Andros, grinning like a cat, and then broke into a charge. He dropped into a more aggressive stance. So much for that.

The first few beats of their fight were a formality as they got a sense of how the other moved, and what moves they liked to use. Andros tried not to reveal anything too unique about his fighting style as he tried pin down hers, but she wasn't making it easy for him to keep holding back. She glided from side to side like a dancer, constantly trying to break through his guard. She was almost completely an offensive fighter, giving no quarter but taking little effort to protect herself.

And she was a good fighter, Andros decided as she executed a leg sweep with a dramatic gesture. There was no question about that anymore.

He backflipped to dodge her attack and to lead her into believing that he was going on the defensive after being unable to find any opportunity to strike back. He'd seen enough; it was time to get serious.

Once she closed in on Andros, he met her assault with one of his own and started to exploit whatever weaknesses he'd noticed while she did the same with him, or so he figured. He struck her thigh when she overextended her lunge to punch him in the stomach. He made of mockery of her attempt to effectively block his kicks by poking all of the holes he could in her defense.

As the fight developed, he had his share of blows to recover from, but overall, Andros started to feel reassured. Knowing that his technique was more balanced than hers and that he was able to both repel her attacks but also teach her a lesson was extremely satisfying after all the things she'd said to make him angry.

Tari ran towards him again, renewing her assault with a vicious pummel of fists. Andros blocked the first two but was hit by her third, a nasty uppercut that broke through his blocks and swiped his chin. He stumbled back, dazed, recovering his senses just in time to sidestep an aerial kick.

Tari's foot connected with the gravelly soil, sending pebbles and a small plume of dust into the air. She let out a furious cry as Andros took advantage of her serious mistake to go counterattack. Every blow of his that she blocked was matched by one that connected, and Andros could tell that she was losing her focus. As she made one final, desperate attack, he pulled out all the stops and hit her with a series of kicks that broke her guard completely. With no small amount of glee, he wasted no time in pinning her in a grapple. Her one free hand waved around uselessly, partly pinned to her side. There was no move that she could pull off with that one hand that would make any difference.

"Satisfied?" he asked between pants for breath.

Tari frowned, her face darkening faster than Andros could register. Before he knew why she was doing it, she stuck her free hand under her clothes and withdrew a tiny switchblade, swinging it at Andros with a speed that made him react on a primal level. He barely released her in time and paid for it as her blade ripped into his left shoulder, tearing both cloth and flesh.

He immediately grabbed the wound to staunch the blood that was starting to stain his sleeve and stared at her in disbelief. "You said no weapons!" he yelled, torn between fury and shock.

She calmly wiped the blade on her pant leg and resheathed it in a hidden fold of her clothing. "Do you think Dark Spectre's minions would adhere to a 'no weapons' rule if you asked? I doubt it."

He bit his lip. "I wasn't fighting one of Dark Spectre's lackeys, I was fighting you."

"So? You let your guard down. It's not my fault you weren't prepared."

"Prepared? I can't believe..." he trailed off, too upset to finish his sentence. Instead he whirled away from her, ready to leave.

"Oh, stop taking it so personally!" she said, jogging towards him.

"Hah!" he yelled over his shoulder. "This coming from someone who couldn't stand the thought of losing a sparring match that she broke her own rules!"

Her face reddened, threatening to darken again with that same ruthless glare, but it never surfaced.

"Look. I realize that my training methods are going to be different from what you're used to, and I understand the pressure you're under. But you're just going to have to trust me!"

"Trust you? You pulled a knife on me! How am I supposed to trust you?!" he stopped walking and turned to face her.

"I don't care by whose authority you were chosen to lead the team," he said, "It doesn't matter. You're no Power Ranger. I won't follow you."

She got in his face. "You're wrong. I was chosen. I am a Power Ranger, whether you like it or not. You don't get a say in the matter! If you don't want to follow me, then don't! Give up your morpher and be done with it!"

He stalked away for a second time, cursing under his breath. This time she didn't try to follow.

"You'd better get that cut looked at!" she called out.

Andros stormed into the Megaship's infirmary, keying the door shut and locking it with his personal code. He ignored Alpha's pleas as the android knocked on the door, calling him.

"Andros, what happened? Who attacked you? Oooh, that cut looks nasty! Please let me help you! I'm trained in first aid–"

"I'm fine." He yanked open a drawer, hissing as he realized that he'd used the wrong arm, and switched to the good one before methodically removing various bandages and supplies for treating wounds from a first aid kit.

"Ohh, I hate teenagers!" Alpha cursed. Andros heard his metallic feet stomp in anger. He felt a pang of guilt, but forced it away.

He pulled his shirt off, sat on the medical bed with his supplies and set about treating the wound, wincing as the disinfectant stung his skin. When the stinging was down to a dull ache and the bleeding had stopped, he tossed the bloody compress aside and tried to wrap a bandage around his shoulder. It was harder than he thought it would be; he couldn't keep enough pressure on the bandage to keep it from sagging without just one hand.

Alpha chuckled knowingly. "Having trouble with the bandage, eh?"

The Red Ranger shut his eyes, forcing down several colourful curse words in various languages to describe irritating, all-knowing androids. Without answering, he slid off the bed, unlocked the door, and returned to the bed. He tried not to acknowledge Alpha any more than he had to as the android examined Andros' cut for himself before binding the wound. He had a feeling that if Alpha's face was capable of displaying emotion, he would have an 'I told you so' expression right now.

"Stupid teenagers. They're always so unpredictable," Alpha muttered to himself, tugging on the bandage that was now firmly wrapped around Andros' shoulder. Andros grunted as Alpha adjusted it. "Sorry."

Andros settled both hands on the bed, bracing himself as Alpha continued his work. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." Alpha stepped back and inspected the bandage before nodding in satisfaction. "Don't do anything too strenuous with that arm for a few days, okay? You might tear the muscle if the cut opens any more."

"Right." Andros continued to sit, staring blankly at nothing, thinking.

"Alpha, you said that Earth has Power Rangers too, right?" he finally asked.

"That's right."

"What're they like?"

"Hmm." Alpha crossed his arms. "They're teenagers, so a lot like you, I suppose. Always moving. Eager to find their place in the world. Annoying."

"And as Rangers?"

"They were the best. I don't think there is a better team anywhere else in the universe, although I am a bit biased. So brave. Always ready. They never gave up."

"Is that why Zordon chose them to be Rangers?"

Alpha shook his head. "Zordon didn't choose anyone. The Power chose them, he offered it to them, and they chose to accept. I thought you knew that."

"...I don't know anymore," Andros said.

Ever since he'd arrived on Eltar, he'd been questioning himself. Was he supposed to be a Power Ranger? His opinion had been bouncing back and forth ever since his conversation with Zordon, and ever since he'd met Tari. Sometimes, he was so sure that he was meant to do this that he'd boggle at his own thoughts, unable to comprehend how he could doubt himself so much. Other times he wondered at the reverse.

And whenever he entertained the notion that Tari was a Ranger, his certainty derailed.

"What happens when someone who isn't meant to be a Ranger tries to be one?" he finally asked.

Alpha rested his ovaloid head in his chin and thought. "Hmm...it's hard to say. There's never been an unworthy Ranger as far as I know, or even a Ranger that broke the Three Rules. There's no record of such an event in any history that I'm aware of."

"It's never happened before?"

Alpha chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure it has. But recorded history never shows us the whole truth. It can only show us one side of what really happened. What I'm trying to say is, I have no idea what happens when the Power rejects someone. I don't think anyone does, not even Zordon. All that I know is that as long as you use the Power for good, it will always protect you, even if you don't have a morpher. Once a Ranger, always a Ranger."

He patted Andros on the back and headed for the door, stopping at the frame.

"I'm sorry, Andros. I know that's not much help."

The door slid shut behind the robot. Andros tested his arm's mobility absentmindedly as he pondered his larger problem.

He couldn't let Tari be a Ranger. No, that wasn't it. He wouldn't. He didn't care how talented she was at martial arts, or how much she deserved to be a Ranger after dreaming of becoming one all her life. It didn't matter. Her very nature was as un-Rangerlike as anyone could get. She was an aggressor, interested in power and rank and command. Power Rangers were supposed to be defenders. They were supposed to be a team of equals. She was deceptive; Power Rangers were rarely that underhanded. And deep down inside, he had an unsettling feeling that if she continued like this, then her career as a Power Ranger would take a dastardly turn before it even began.

He had a responsibility to stop that from happening. He couldn't let her keep the morpher. He had to get it back. Damn whatever everyone else said.

Andros got off the bed, carefully pulling his shirt back over his head, and made for the cargo hatch. He had an impostor to confront.