Disclaimer; I do not own Power Rangers.
A/N: Just a warning, this is where the pre-slash begins, not much, but I felt I should warn ya'll.
Scott walked to the door of the testing room, tugging nervously at the jacket that Dr K had given him to show his status as Ranger Operator Series Red, and then he tugged lightly at red polo shirt collar and brushed his hands over his dark blue jeans. He took a deep breath and looked over the group of military men and women who would be helping him and gave them a nervous smile. Before he opened the door, Scott hit the button that would let him listen to the Series Blue candidates. "I don't know why any of you even bothered to show up," one of them was saying. Scott's eyes jumped to the cameras and quickly located the tall, well-built man who was speaking. "After all, I'm clearly stronger and smarter than any of you."
Scott scanned the rest of the candidates and spotted two young men with identical looks of disgust on their face. Behind them was a rather casual looking man who was slowly shaking his head. For a brief moment, Scott found himself unable to look away from him; however, a soft voice dragged his attention back to his job. It was one of the two disgusted men as he said, "I don't want this bad enough to deal with him. Come on, let's get out of here."
The two left and Scott firmed his jaw, who ever that man was; he'd just lost any chance for a morpher that was for sure. He hit the door open button and crossed his arms. "Good morning," he said, "I am Ranger Operator Series Red and team leader, Scott Truman. You are here as the final candidates for the Series Blue morpher. Come inside and let's get started." The ten men and one woman filed in, "Register at that table," Scott said, pointing to where two military liaisons were waiting, "and then we'll start the final round of tests."
As the other candidates obediently formed up in two lines, the man who'd been bragging outside faced Scott, "Look, Kid," he said, "we both know that I'm the best choice you have for a Ranger, so let's skip this nonsense and just give me the morpher."
Scott looked him over once, and sniffed. In a bored and condescending tone he said, "Every time your lips move, it's going to be just that much harder to earn the blue morpher. Now, get in line, unless you want to spend the rest of the week on KP for the military for attempting to fix the tests." The man jerked back with an ugly look on his face and Scott adjusted his stance so that the coveted badge was clearly visible. "Try it," he said, quietly, "because I have no problem throwing you out of this."
For a moment, Scott honestly thought the man was going to attack him, but finally, the man turned and got in the line. Turning, Scott walked over to Dr K's nearest microphone and leaned casually against the wall beside it. "So," Dr K said, speaking in the ear bud Scott had put on to share his thoughts with his mentor.
"He's one bad egg," Scott replied, rubbing his nose as he did so. "He's just, too much. He'd try to kick my butt and take charge, and he'd ignore you."
"I agree, Ranger Red," Dr K replied.
Scott nodded, and watched as the first group of three was set up on the treadmills. In the group was the stocky man that Scott had noticed, the one who had seemed laid back, and yet annoyed by the big man. He was running easily, maybe not as fast as the others, but there was a steadiness that caught Scott's eye. He turned and looked at the man they'd put in the hamster ball. It wasn't really a hamster ball, but Scott had been struck by the image the first time he had watched a candidate get spun around by the device. The poor guy lasted five minutes before he had to be set free.
A sudden commotion in the third section, where the ex-Candidate was being tested with the rubber balls made Scott straighten up. Sure enough, the man was having an apparently angry conversation with the two technicians overseeing the test. As Scott straightened up, the man's voice rose, "That was a deliberate attempt at my groin!"
"Ranger Red," Dr K murmured.
"I know," Scott said as he strode across the room. "Lt Vargas, is there a problem?" He asked, turning to the technicians.
"No sir," Vargas replied, tucking a strand of her blue-black hair behind her face.
"Yes there is," the big man said, "I thought these tests were supposed to be fair."
"They are, sir," Scott replied.
"I don't see how if your testers are going to aim for the most vulnerable part of a man's body deliberately."
Scott regarded the man, they were of a similar height, but the man had broader shoulders. "Sometimes they need a few shots to adjust the machine," Scott said. "They pegged me a sweet one with the first ball they threw at me. It's not a deliberate attempt to remove you from the testing. Please, return to your starting point and the technicians will begin again, I'll stand here and keep an eye on them."
"You don't like me, if you had a say, you'd probably toss me," the man sneered.
Scott weighed his options, but knew that he had to do this, "I'm sorry, sir, but this is the third, and final strike against you. Thank you for your interest in the Ranger Program, sir, but I'm afraid that your attitude far outweighs any chance you had of us accepting you. You will not be required to take any more tests. Furthermore, unless or until you can demonstrate a significant change in your attitude towards other people, I'm afraid we will never have a place for you."
"What? Third strike? What are you talking about?" The man demanded.
"Your first strike was before I even opened the door, when your aggressive, loud attitude sent two of the other final candidates packing before they even began their testing. The second was your lack of respect towards me, and your utter contempt for the true purpose of our task, as highlighted by your demand that I ignore this group in your favor. Third is your continued attitude, and, frankly, I don't like you." Scott fought his natural instincts and continued as calmly as he could. "As the leader of the Ranger Team, it is my choice as to who joins or not; you've been loud, rude, aggressive and very off putting in your quest for a power that you are clearly not ready to hold. Now, will you remove yourself from these grounds, or will I need to escort you?"
With a roar of outrage, the man attacked and Scott, ready for it, rolled away from his punch, grabbing his overextended arm and flipping him on to the mat where the avoidance exercises were conducted. The man held still for a moment, then rolled over and flipped to his feet, "You will pay for that," he declared.
Scott felt a cocky grin stretch his face, "You can try." He looked at the military personal gathering, "Stay back, I can handle him."
"That's what you think."
The man again led with his fist, but this time, Scott dodged and landed a kick to the man's solar plexus. After that, it was on, Scott wanted the man down with as little effort as possible, and the man seemed to want to strip him down to his component parts. Finally, Scott saw his chance, when the man charged him. This time, Scott dodged, grabbed the man's arm and slammed him to the mat, twisting the captured arm up and behind his back. He held the man's arm in place with help from his augmented strength. He glanced up and nodded slightly at the military personnel. They moved in and quickly bound the man's hands and started him for the door. "You will pay for this, Scott Truman." He snarled, "You and your father!"
Scott watched the doors slide shut, and then he turned to the other Candidates. "All right, now that that piece of work is out of here, let's finish this. Don't be afraid to ask me anything, but keep in mind, I may not be able to answer everything."
"Is Colonel Truman your father?" One candidate asked.
"Unfortunately," Scott replied dryly. "We don't get along, and we haven't been close in years. When my brother died in defense of Corinth, what relationship the two of us maintained degraded down to barest civility for the most part.
The team's mentor will handle any and all interactions with the Defense Force."
Activity began to slowly resume, and Scott continued his looking over of the candidates. Again, the stocky man of before caught Scott's eye, as his easy going nature brought the charged atmosphere down. As Scott turned to judge another group, he knew that, if the man proved himself, he wanted him. That nature, and skill, would be a perfect complement to his own, and he seemed forgiving enough for any mistakes that Scott would make. As he caught his eyes drifting back to look at him again, Scott barely held in a snarl; it wasn't like the guy would disappear if he was doing his job! He glanced down at his clipboard and wondered who the man truly was, and if he'd make it to the final interviews.
