Disclaimer: Power Rangers belongs to Saban, Sienna to kandyapple12, Tyler to Aquilla the Eagle, Anya to storytyper2, Dean to WolfsbaneX, Alice to InsertDecentNameHere, and the Thinker to DeathDealer1997. Anything else is probably mine.
Last time we saw the Season Ninjas: Dean recovered from his injuries in Alice's care, and when he finally returned to the Thinker, avoided a fight with the Rangers.
*February 22nd, Crane Boulevard, Scrimshaw, 3:22 am*
Alice was lying awake, asking herself if turning on the fan was worth the noise, when she thought she heard a window open. Sitting up, she combed her tangled brown hair out of her face and listened. She made out a few slow, quiet thumps. Footsteps?
Kicking away her sheets, she crept to the open doorway and peeked out. Her white T-shirt seemed like it was glowing in the faint moonlight. Nobody was in the hall. The noise was coming from the spare bedroom, whose door was shut. Why had she left that window unlocked? She hadn't seriously been hoping Dean would come back for the uniform he'd left behind.
Alice ran on tiptoe to the kitchen, where she retrieved a heavy frying pan. Holding it up, she made her way back to the spare room. Grasping the doorknob, she turned it oh so slowly, and pushed. The door creaked as it swung open, and a dark figure inside whirled, striking a fighting stance. Alice was already swinging the frying pan when she realized it was Dean. She caught herself and almost lost her balance.
"This is cast iron. Give me a good reason not to concuss you with it," she whispered.
Dean had been holding his uniform jacket, but now he dropped it and raised his hands. "No weapons."
"You have scary supervillain ninja powers, don't you?"
"If I wanted to use them on you do you really think a frying pan would help?" Dean replied, looking irritated. "Besides, I don't mess with civilians. I just want my uniform."
"Don't mess with civilians? Do you think I'm an idiot?" Alice snapped. "You kidnapped a little kid, what, last week? Never mind all the other damage you cause."
"That was the Thinker's idea. I'm just following orders."
Alice snorted. "Sure, blame him. You're still the one who did it."
"What do you want me to do? Go up to him and say 'sorry, I have moral qualms about this plan'?"
"You have a morpher, superpowers, and a giant killer robot. I think you can make him listen."
Dean turned away, retrieving his jacket from the floor. Alice had gotten his entire uniform washed and mended and left it on the bed, just in case. Uncle Monty had been too busy with financial stuff to even tease her about what she was doing. She'd felt a little silly, but now she was glad she'd done it. Dean had a lot of explaining to do, if she had her way.
"It's not that simple."
"Is it?" Alice set the frying pan on the dresser and folded her arms. "Why are you on his side at all, if you don't like what he's doing?"
"It wasn't my choice." Dean turned back, but didn't make eye contact, instead focusing on refolding his jacket. "My school surrendered to him, someone had to take the morpher."
"Then why are you doing such a good job of helping him?" With a shrug, Dean turned back towards the window. "Oh no, don't run away from me."
Alice reached in front of him and slammed it shut. Standing there, one hand holding the window and the other on her hip, she looked up at him. Dean stared at her in disbelief. Deep down, she didn't think he was really going to hurt her—but she still felt a little nervous.
"You can do better."
Nobody said anything for a minute. Then, shoving her arm away, Dean opened the window and clambered out. Alice didn't try to stop him this time, just stepped back. Once he was through, she closed the window and screen and watched him run. Once he was out of sight, she sighed and turned away. She'd put the frying pan back in the morning, she decided, and slouched back to bed.
*Skylines Flight 132, Scrimshaw Airspace, 4:38 am*
Tyler's uncle, Bryce Cameron, leaned over to look out the window as the plane circled Scrimshaw. It was nearly dawn, and the little city barely stood out among all the fluffy trees and blue mountains.
"We'll be down in a few minutes," he said, and sat back, looking down at the thirteen-year-old boy beside him. He looked a lot like Tyler, with the same light hair and pale skin—though a few patches on the left side of his face looked paler than the rest. He smiled a little, and twisted around to look out the window.
"Do you think Tyler will be awake when we get there?"
"Probably not. Your brother sleeps in late most days, plus he doesn't even know you're coming."
The boy nodded, not saying anything. His right hand crept over to his left arm, which he held pressed between his body and the seat, as if he didn't want anyone to see it. As the plane dipped towards the landing strip, Bryce put a hand on his shoulder.
"Westley, trust me, Tyler isn't going to care what's changed. He's missed all of you a lot."
"I guess." Westley sat back with a quiet sigh as the pilot came on over the loudspeakers with the usual instructions.
The plane landed smoothly, taxiing to a halt. As it halted, the pair began gathering their belongings. While his uncle stood, Westley unbuckled himself one-handed, grabbed a small homemade blanket and covered his left arm with it.
However, just as Uncle Bryce got up, someone screamed. Startled, Westley looked up in time to see a green-blue gas start pouring out of the air vents.
"What's happening?" He asked, alarmed.
"Monsters."
"What?"
The other passengers were trying to flee, force the windows open or climb over each other. Coughs, sobs and screams filled the air. Westley could already taste the sour gas. He coughed convulsively, and held his breath. Through watering eyes, Westley saw something that looked like a robot doctor shove through the crowd. Its white coat was torn through in a few places, letting shiny silver armor peek through.
"There you are, Westley Thorne," the thing said, and raised one hand. Instead of fingers, it had blades and syringes, which it clinked together. It held something shiny and black. Choking, Westley slumped back in his seat, losing his grip on the blanket. His left arm ended in a discolored stump just above where his wrist had been. "This will hurt less if you hold still."
*Neptune Airport Terminal, Scrimshaw, 8:07 am*
Sienna stood with Tyler and Anya, morphed, across the street from the airport terminal. On the front steps, the Thinker gazed back at them nonchalantly. Dean, arms folded, stood slightly behind him like a bodyguard.
"Good, you're here," the Thinker said at last. "The hostages you saw earlier have been positioned at structurally critical spots throughout this airport," the Thinker said. "Each one of them has been implanted with one of these."
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small black device the size of a coin. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed it to the pavement, where it exploded with a bang and a nine-foot fireball. All three Season Ninjas recoiled instinctively. As the smoke cleared, it revealed a blackened crater.
"Nobody has to get hurt," the Thinker went on, resting both hands on his cane, "If one of you three hands yourself, and your morpher, over to me, all of the hostages will be set free. If not, I will set off a chain reaction that will kill every single one of them. You have five minutes to decide."
Sienna and Tyler looked at each other. Behind the Thinker, Dean unfolded his arms. His face was unreadable, but he drew back a little. Raising his wrist, the Thinker checked his watch.
"What happens if we just kill you?" Anya asked, drawing her Season Tewhatewha and twirling it.
The Thinker's tone was nonchalant. "The monster who implanted the bombs sets them off remotely. The same if you try to rescue any of the hostages or summon your Zords."
Sienna caught Tyler by the arm and pulled him back, into a clump of trees. Still holding her Tewhatewha, Anya followed. With a shrug, the Thinker turned and walked back to the terminal entrance, followed by Dean.
"Any ideas?" Tyler asked.
"I think Sienna should go," the White Ranger said at once.
Sienna glowered through her visor. "This isn't the time for jokes!"
"Who's joking? We don't have time to figure out a way to beat the deathtrap, so someone's got to surrender. I'm the best fighter and you're a terrible team player. You're the only logical choice."
"So neither of you has a plan?" Tyler asked.
"Not really, no." Anya didn't sound very concerned. "Knowing that guy he'll kill whoever surrenders to him. This should be exciting."
"Shut up," Sienna muttered, and began to pace back and forth. She couldn't see any sign of the hostages, or even a Spider Drone. Even though her mind was racing, she had no ideas. They couldn't teleport everyone out—and even if they could, how would they disarm those bombs? Would destroying the monster do it? He was somewhere else; even if they found him within the next fifteen minutes, would they be able to kill him that quickly?
"Three minutes, Rangers," the Thinker called. "Oh, and by the way, Orange Ranger, I apologize for ruining the surprise."
"Huh?" Tyler took a step towards him.
"Westley was on this plane. He got out of the hospital early. Again, I'm sorry." He didn't sound particularly gloating or sincere; it was little more than a statement.
Even morphed, Tyler looked like he'd been kicked in the head. Sienna caught him by the arm, worried he might fall down or something. Even though Tyler had never mentioned anyone named Westley before, she remembered their conversation on the hike about how his brother would be out of the hospital soon.
"We are not playing his game," she said firmly. "We've found a way out before, we can do it again."
"In two minutes? Think fast, Little Miss Sunshine," Anya said.
"So shut up and let me think." Sienna turned and paced. "We just have to block the signal between the monster and the detonators."
Anya shrugged. "Great. How?"
"One minute," the Thinker called once more.
"Couldn't you freeze the bombs or something?"
Anya considered this for a moment. "Imagine I'd need to know where everyone was first. Are all your ideas this lousy?"
"I don't see you coming up with anything better!"
Even though she'd turned away from Tyler, Sienna heard the hum of energy as he activated his camouflage powers. Was he—oh no. Not even stopping to think, she ninja-streaked across the road and stopped right in front of the Thinker. He glanced up from his watch, then nodded once.
"Fair enough."
"Sienna—" Tyler protested, turning visible.
Before anyone could react, Dean was blocking the Orange Ranger's path, Terra Bo raised. Neither of them moved.
"The rest of you may leave now," the Thinker called to the other two Rangers. With a satisfied expression, he turned his attention back to Sienna. "Demorph."
"Let the hostages go first. I don't trust you," Sienna replied, speaking slowly to keep her voice controlled. She was starting to feel scared now, but hid it as well as she could. Couldn't give the Thinker the satisfaction—or do anything to make Tyler try to swap or something.
"Likewise. However, I have no reason to kill these people if I have you, but if you resist me, I can destroy them all. Demorph." The Thinker's tone sharpened.
Shoulders slumping, Sienna put a hand on her belt buckle. "Power down." She pulled the morpher off and set it in the Thinker's raised hand.
Tucking the morpher in his pocket, the Thinker nodded to Dean, who faced them again. Sienna heard his footsteps, then felt the other Ranger's hand come down on her shoulder. A shove made her stumble through the doors. She glanced back to see Tyler still standing in the middle of the street.
The doors swung shut after the Thinker. Sienna glared defiantly at him as he came forward. One quick sweep of the cane, and he knocked Sienna's legs out from under her. She landed on her hands and knees, only for a blow to the mid-back to knock her flat. Folding his arms, Dean looked on.
"I won't kill you too quickly," the Thinker said, as Sienna picked herself up. A sharp rap to the right arm made her fall again with a grunt. "So long as they think you're alive, your teammates won't do anything drastic. Dean."
At his name, Dean stepped forward, pulling a silver vial out of his belt. Straddling Sienna's back, he caught a handful of her hair and jerked her head back. Before Sienna even knew what was happening, the Red Ranger had uncapped the vial and was holding it to her mouth. Sienna gagged, but Dean just pinched her nose shut and poured the liquid down her throat. In a minute, it was all gone.
"Drone 7, disarm Hostage Cluster 1," the Thinker said, apparently into a communicator.
Dean released Sienna, who slumped forward, panting. Her lips felt tingly and numb already. Shakily, she wondered just what this stuff was going to do to her. Well, aside from . . . what Anya had guessed the Thinker had planned. Hopefully he'd at least keep his end of the bargain. When Dean dragged her to her feet, she didn't resist.
*Season Zord Hangar, 8:40 am*
"We have to do something!" Tyler exclaimed.
"If we bring in the Zords now we'll kill Sienna along with all the hostages," Anya replied from where she sat, chair tipped back against the Penguinzord's hull. "What good will that do? It was her decision, nothing we can do now." Tyler punched the hull of the Penguinzord with a metallic clang. "Don't do that, you'll scratch the paint."
"You don't even care, do you?"
"Yeah I do. I just thought it might be insensitive to celebrate."
"I can't believe you." Tyler turned away, shaking his head.
"Hey, what part of 'sociopathic killer' did you miss? She annoyed me and she sucked at her job, I'm glad she's gone. Once this is over we can just take her morpher back and give it to one of the graduates around here," Anya said.
Whirling on her, a livid Tyler seized her by the shoulders. "Shut up!"
Shoving his wrists aside, Anya twisted them back and kicked Tyler in the groin. He doubled over, but turned it into a headbutt. Even that only worked for a second, then Anya had twisted around behind him and was pinning him to the Penguinzord's hull.
"That's gratitude for you," she panted. "You know what? I think I'll go somewhere else where I'm appreciated and allowed to have an opinion!"
With that, she shoved him aside and ninja-streaked into the console. Picking himself up, Tyler tried to say something, but he was out of breath and still in pain. Engines humming to life, the Penguinzord closed its hatch and took off. Helplessly, Tyler watched as it flew out of the hangar and into the sky. He dropped into Anya's abandoned chair and buried his face in his hands with a groan. Now what?
As he sat there, wondering what he was going to do now, he heard a weird beeping noise. Curious, he looked up. It was coming from his Zord's cockpit. Standing, he climbed into it and dropped into his seat, looking over his console. His eyes widened.
"What . . . ?"
*Trivia*
This episode evolved a lot; the entire concept of an unbeatable deathtrap forcing the Rangers to hand one of their own over was meant for one of my future teams, Power Rangers: Scripture, but it fit the Thinker's style. In earlier drafts, Tyler was the one to surrender, not Sienna, and like many of my pre-synopsized chapters, it ends rather sooner than I originally intended.