Four months minus five days. Ph.D. is eating up creative energy, what can I say.

Love and Gratitude to the Constellations Team: Camille and Mara (friends and beta readers), and Roie (who made this possible).

Enjoy, and please review!


39. Cassandra Believed

She ran into the bridge, pigtails flying behind her back. "Uncle!" Kapri squealed.

Zurgane followed at a more sedate pace, muttering to himself and probably shaking his head at her frivolousness.

Lothor put down his datapad. "Now what?" he asked irritably.

She ran up to the throne and grabbed Lothor's hands, pulling him up. "You've got to come see this. You'll love it!"

He followed her, complaining and trading jokes with Zurgane over her head all the way down to the engineering lab.

And to think she used to hate having to play ditzy. She's hated the idea so much when Lothor explained how critical it would be for the generals to think she and Marah were incapable: she wanted acknowledgement for her achievements, wanted those she was to work with to know what she was capable of. Having to pretend to be stupid and silly seemed humiliating. The joke was not on her, though, and Kapri couldn't care less if Zurgane thought having to answer to her was outrageous: it wasn't like she cared for his opinion. He, Vexacus, Choobo and the generals to come were all beneath her in the food chain of information. This was a reason to not despise the act, but not the reason she'd learned to like it.

It gave her a semblance of freedom. She couldn't quite say or do anything she wanted, but she had considerably more leeway. She could be fresh and honest, could annoy people just because she wanted to or for the sheer pleasure of petty vindictiveness. She'd hated the ninja classes and much preferred the way of the Sword Hermits, but she'd learned to genuinely appreciate deceit and lies. They had their advantages, so long as she knew which ones were directed at her.

"Hands off!"

She injected extra poutiness into her voice. "But Uncle, you're gonna spoil your surprise!"

"I don't care," he snapped. "I want to watch where I'm going."

She removed her hands from his face, pretending sullenness. "Well, we're here, anyway."

Lothor stared at the curtains that hid the various engineering projects from view. "Please tell me there isn't a scarecrow behind any of them."

"Actually, more like the tin man."

"Enough with the games," growled Zurgane.

"I don't remember asking you, Zurgane," said Lothor sharply. "Go ahead, Kapri, let's see our scarecrow, and he'd better have a brain. You tire me."

She pulled the cord. "We revived him," she said simply. "Well, rebuilt, really, but we needed a few organic components."

Lothor surveyed the tall metallic body. "I believe I asked for program readjustments?"

"All done," said Zurgane. "We complemented his arsenal with the finest of – "

"I have full trust in you, General," said Lothor, his bored tone suggesting other interpretations. "Do any of the adaptations include a particular liking for sunlight?"

"No, sir."

"Well, carry on, then."

She left Zurgane to brief the android and slipped out, following Lothor.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" he asked, walking on and not turning his head.

"I'll be out tonight," she told him. "I may have found something."

"May?"

"At worst, it's the shadow of an old legend. At most, it's the next one." She didn't say the next what. They were standing in a hallway, after all.

Lothor didn't stop walking but his gait changed, like a snake coiling before a strike. "Will one night do?"

"Maybe not," she admitted.

"I'll make your excuses. Go."

"Yes, sir."

"Kapri?"

They both paused.

"You're not one of my generals," he said. "Don't call me 'sir'."

"Yes, Uncle."

Breath and the waves and feet on sand; that running could be solitary was something Hunter had discovered only since the Rangers. Maybe he wouldn't have been able to hang out with them as much if he did not have these hours to himself, sunset and then stars the only distractions from the rhythm of his own heart and lungs, from the faint burn of having worked his body to a new limit – and that wasn't that becoming harder to achieve with every passing week.

He started up from the beach to the boardwalk and then halted, jogging in place. Something was wrong. He could almost feel it in the shadows between the houses – like someone lurking: an ambush. He tapped the alert button on his morpher. Seconds later, CyberCam's voice came through.

"All clear, homie."

"Check again."

"There's nothing there except a couple of stray cats."

"Do you have a visual on any of them?"

"Dude, I so need to send you to a shrink for both post-trauma and paranoia."

"Last I checked it was your job to have our backs."

"No, I don't have a visual. It's one in the morning, Hunter. The IR's pretty good, though, and it's clean."

"Did anything pass through there earlier?"

"I wasn't monitoring that area for the past two hours."

"Do so next time."

"Look, Cam, Blake and Dustin are all awake. Backup's only seconds away if you need it. Just hop along home."

"You think you're funny, but you really aren't." Still, he resumed progress towards the boardwalk and, across it, the street. He was pretty sure that there was something there – what was the point of sensors if they never picked up any of the bad ones – and he really hoped it was just a couple of kelzacks with a camouflage net.

He barely caught the shadow of the figure in his peripheral vision, but that was no kelzack – too tall, too heavy – and it was no outer space freak, either. Hunter sidestepped just in time, avoiding getting his spine smashed and catching a nasty hit to his ribs instead. This thing, whatever it was, was brutal – but so was Hunter. He launched into a series of kicks, forcing his enemy a few steps back. This, unfortunately, seemed to be all he achieved – no damage done, judging by the return hook followed by a kick, which Hunter dived under and replied with a punch augmented with as much power as he could manage.

Seconds later Blake was there, morphed and waving around his Thunder Blade like he meant business. The enemy of the night did not hang around much after that.

"Pity," breathed Hunter after it teleported out. "I was just beginning to have fun."

Blake's face plate slid open, but he didn't demorph just yet. "You're suicidal, Bro," he said.

"No, that's CyberCam. Thanks for the save, by the way."

"Anytime."

"I am not suicidal," came CyberCam's voice over the comm.

"Time now is," Hunter glanced at his watch, "half past midnight. Think you'll have an explanation for how this bogie got under the radar by five in the morning?"

CyberCam sighed dramatically.

"Did that guy seem familiar to you?" asked Blake suddenly.

"As in, have we fought him before?"

"Yeah."

Hunter shrugged. "Not really," he said. "Or actually really not. I think I'd remember the first of Lothor's goons that didn't look like the creature from the black lagoon."

"Good point," admitted Blake grudgingly, "But something about this deal is way too familiar. I don't like it."

"You're just paranoid."

"No, that would be you."

"It's not paranoia if they're really after you!"

"That was my point," said Blake dryly. "Don't call me a panicker, but maybe we should borrow extra security for the night?"

"Wouldn't help." Hunter frowned. "This guy's invisible on everything except visual."

"Uh-uh." Blake bit his lip. "We're not safe."

"Nobody is."

"We're the only ones home alone. Lothor hasn't messed with civilians."

"Yet."

"Can we go sleep at Ops?" asked Blake irritably. "I'm tired of us getting kidnapped. If CyberCam needs daylight to find this creep, I'd rather crawl into the safest hole I've got."

"I'd take his advice if I were you," piped up CyberCam. "Being that Cam just made the exact same suggestion."

"You ratting us out?"

"I thought it was my job to watch your back?"

"Did I ever tell you you're a brat?"

"I think you've made it my middle name."

At four-thirty in the morning Tori walked into the Ninja Ops kitchen. "Anyone order breakfast?"

Cam looked up from his tea. "You do realize that our fridge is not empty."

"Yes," she said, setting the paper bags down on the table and unpacking them, "But a little bird told me that you have two Bradleys for breakfast so I thought I'd drop by and say hello. And make sure your fridge won't be empty within half an hour."

"Is that raisin bread?"

"No, it's bug bread."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Dude, is that salmon?"

"Good morning to you, too," replied Cam as Blake and Hunter stepped into the kitchen.

"I don't remember ordering delivery," said Hunter, surveying the table, "But hey, thanks. Sure beats oatmeal."

"So," said Tori conversationally, accepting a knife from Blake and getting to work on making those sandwiches, "Anyone care to tell me what it is this time?"

"Something invisible," grumbled Hunter.

"Invisible is what it's not," countered Blake. "It's everything else, though."

Tori groaned. "I hate those."

"I hate pocket dimensions more," said Cam.

"Those also."

"Tough, humanoid, hits hard," said Blake. "No special abilities we know of yet. Possibly not a ninja."

"How'd you figure that?"

"No elemental echo."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Hunter. "There was something, all right."

Tori paused a second in the spreading of the cream cheese. "Right. That's our best lead, then: why did Hunter register something, but Blake didn't?"

"Different elemental affinities?"

"Shouldn't create an all-or-nothing effect," said Cam. "We'll have to see it interacting with more of us."

"We'll need to draw it out."

"Previous experience suggests I only need to go out on my own," said Hunter dryly.

"Wait until Shane wakes up or you'll never hear the end of it," advised Tori.

"I'm not stupid, thanks."

"I don't know, Bro. You are dating Shane." Blake ducked, the intended cuff going six inches or so above his head. "Just kidding."

"Same here."

"I'm so glad I only have a sister."

In the end, it was eerily simple: Shane only complained for less than five minutes before agreeing with Hunter's tactic, and Hunter did not get within three hundred yards of the apartment building before something all but jumped at him from above.

Something which indeed had no tentacles, was not a ninja and was far too familiar.

"Motodrone!" spat Hunter, rolling two trash cans at him.

Motodrone took them out with a single lazy shot. "Missed me, Crimson Ranger?"

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again, actually. "Ninja Storm, Power of Thunder!"

Turning kick, side step, turn, punch. Punch again, side kick, crescent, jump. Every move Hunter made, though, Motodrone knew to expect and deflect, and whatever alloy his outer shell was made of absorbed the impact without bending: not exactly the same as Perry had built him, then. Hunter threw himself into a 360-degrees flying kick which at least made Motodrone stumble and used that half a second to practically push his Thunder staff between Motodrone's torso and arm, twisting the voltage violently. The voltage shift worked where amperage previously failed, making the android spasm. Still, it managed to break free before Hunter could do honest damage, and –

"What, Pimp My Ride takes bikes now, too?"

Motodrone revved up his bike. "Eat dust, Ranger!"

"You think," Hunter spat, slamming down his morpher's keys. "Ninja Glider Cycle!"

Perry went ash-pale as Cam explained, shortly, the reason for the house call. "I didn't rebuild him, I swear! I couldn't even if I wanted to – the project was destroyed!"

"Obviously, it wasn't," said Cam.

"You guys blew him up," said Perry. "I gave you all the blueprints and the prototypes, and your AI deleted all the files. There was nothing left."

"Look, Perry, I know you would never do anything that could put us at risk. But the facts are, there is a Motodrone out there."

Perry shrugged helplessly.

"Perry's computer system wasn't breached that I could tell," said CyberCam. "Neither was ours. Neither system should be vulnerable unless someone with inside access installed a bug."

"And I burned the damn notes myself," said Cam. "And all the prototypes were melted down. What does that leave us with?"

"The wreckage," said Marah. "From the first Motodrone."

"What about it?"

"We didn't pick it up."

"Marah, Blake and I blew that thing up thoroughly – "

"More or less thoroughly than you destroyed the blueprints and secured Perry's system?"

"Less," admitted Cam after a few seconds. "Apparently it was salvageable after all – and Lothor had almost two months to rebuild him."

"And Hunter and Blake weren't secretive enough when they build their Ninja Cycles," said Marah. "Lothor had a copy of your blueprints."

"That was version 0.8."

"Which Lothor had for how long?"

Cam glanced at the screen. "Explains why Hunter hasn't blown him out of existence yet."

If Motodrone wasn't a menace, a nuisance, prone to shooting at random and a thorn in his pride, Hunter would've immensely enjoyed the chase. It was early morning in downtown Blue Bay Harbor and he got to ride around at speeds that were not only illegal but impossible even for some racing vehicles, and shoot at his opponent. It was insanely like a video game, and really, if those weren't real oranges Hunter had to skid between and if that wasn't a real person whose shop was just blown up, then it could've been fun.

It was real, though, and not even remotely amusing, and Hunter was so focused on it being work that the fun-like elements were completely lost on him.

This Motodrone wasn't a lot better hand-to-hand than the previous one had been, but its bike was a different breed of animal: Hunter could tell that even without CyberCam's commentary. Lothor's crew had taken the remains, studied them and put them together with a better understanding of the technology Cam had used when creating those things. Motodrone's new bike was sturdier, more heavily armed and had a better gearbox. Hunter was fairly certain that catching up with Motodrone on his Ninja Cycle would've been impossible.

It was still near-impossible on the Glider Cycle. Perry had built it specifically for him – the pinnacle of his research – and Cam had spent weeks overhauling the systems, but as good as Hunter's Power-enhanced reflexes were, he just couldn't compete with a machine.

Until, that is, Motodrone turned into a nice, wide main road and Hunter had had enough and took his bike to the air.

He'd only actually flown the thing twice, above Academy grounds, with hardly any flight obstacles. He'd done plenty of simulations, though, and experience dictated a lot of urban training scenarios. It was a lot easier to keep up with Motodrone from the air, and lamp posts were easier to handle than traffic. The motion sensors did their thing, keeping a constant lock on target. Hunter gave them ten seconds just to be sure, and then flipped the laser's safety off. This resulted in a nice, long burn in the asphalt trailing Motodrone, but not a lot of body damage.

Yet.

It was a test run, really. Hunter flipped the safety back on, called up a map of the city and, aiming at seemingly random turns of the road, managed to chase Motodrone to an area of crisscrossing narrow roads and hardly any trees to speak off. It was a tactic that meant more property damage per unit time, but a significantly shorter chase; Hunter thought it was a fair trade. He started to make use of the torpedoes: the first one hit the rear wheel, but hardly did any damage; the second one missed and took out a building's gate instead. For the third shot, Hunter pulled the glider's wings in, dropped fast and hard, got the shot from a side angle and pulled up full-throttle. The good thing was that Motodrone's bike – and hopefully Motodrone himself – blew up quite satisfactorily; the bad thing was that he got into a rough spin avoiding that building, and only just managed to crash in an alley instead of into someone's window.

She sidled in during late afternoon, soot in her hair and dirt under her nails, with a new – and rather large and tacky – decorative pin in her hair. Lothor stepped out of a side corridor before she made it three sections from the cargo bay.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Done," she told him.

"I don't see a companion."

"He'll be here shortly after nightfall," she promised. "Just taking care of some business."

"Oh?"

"You'll like this," she promised. "You really, really will. We got lucky with the timing, too: we only have to wait a week."

"Are you going to explain?"

She grinned. "I won't spoil your newest general his surprise."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, why?"

"You just let me give a briefing without interrupting me once."

Shane shrugged. "It's faster?"

"Never occurred to you before," muttered Cam. "Any questions?"

"Do we know how Motodrone went under the radar yet?"

"Lot of radiation-absorbing plastic foam seems the likeliest explanation. I think I should be able to modify some of the spectral sensors to give us some warning next time."

"That would've been question number two. Three, did Hunter get him?"

"Probably not," admitted Cam. "And even if he did, it doesn't matter. There was a teleportation signature originating from space which targeted the explosion site. Whatever survived of Motodrone and his bike, Lothor has him and can, presumably, rebuild as necessary."

"What about the Glider Cycle?"

"No critical systems were damaged. It'll be operable again within a week."

"No critical systems were damaged? Dude, I saw the video, all right?"

"Do you know how modern cars are built?" asked Cam. "Upon impact, the shock goes around the passenger cabin. The car is a total loss, but the passengers and the driver are unharmed."

"You're saying that if it got totaled, it wasn't that important."

"Exactly. Also, you can't ground the Glider Cycle."

"I wasn't going to."

Cam gave him a Look. "Excuse me if I don't believe you."

"I just want to see Hunter working through a lot more of those simulations before we unlock the thing."

"You have that fight with him," said Cam shortly. "He was raving about it for two hours after I picked him and the wreckage up with the mobile command centre."

Shane scowled, but then his face relaxed and he sighed. "Man, it's like he can't get out of bed without getting into some kind of trouble. I know I can't lock him up but there are moments when I just don't care, y'know?"

"Believe me when I say the whole team has noticed," said Cam wryly. Then his expression darkened. "There's another thing you should know."

"Which I guess I'm not going to like."

Cam shook his head. "Tori noted, earlier, that the only soldiers of Lothor which survived more than a single day's fight with us weren't soldiers but officers – Zurgane and Choobo. This prompted Marah to recall something interesting. As you may recall, Choobo was promoted to general following his capture of Hunter and Blake."

"Is this somehow important?"

"Yes," said Cam grimly. "Marah says that Lothor has a prophecy which he stole from the Academy. This prophecy says that every single warrior he will send against us will fail, except for the generals; and even they will eventually die. And when all the generals have been killed in combat, Lothor will be able to defeat us."

"A prophecy," repeated Shane. "You can't be serious."

Cam hesitated. "Actually, I am."

"Cam, I know we got used to a lot of weird things, but prophecies? Come on."

"Call it a hunch."

Shane started. "The last time you said that, you were avoiding telling us that you're a telepath. You having visions now?"

Cam hesitated, and then said: "Not quite, yet. But there's a certain sense, there, like something I can't quite get. The telepathy felt like that, too, before I acknowledged it."

Shane stared at him, then rubbed his forehead. "A prophecy saying we're going to lose. Great."

"I don't think we have to lose."

"Got anything to back it up except for a hunch?"

"Not really. But I'm going to dig through the library." He looked at the single wall of scrolls. "What's left of it, anyway. I should find a mention of what was stolen, at the very least." His face twisted. "Dad would've known right away."

"Yeah," said Shane quietly. "I guess Lothor knew what he was doing. We'll get him back, Cam."

Cam shook his head wordlessly.

"You said 'all the generals'," Shane prompted. "Does Marah know how many there should be?"

"Unfortunately, no. We seem to have four so far: Zurgane, Choobo, Vexacus and Motodrone."

"Vexacus? And this only occurred to Marah now?"

"Vexacus had at first faced off against you alone," Cam said quietly. "The rest of us didn't even see him; and she… didn't believe in the prophecy. Now that it's starting to look like a pattern, though…"

"The rest of the team needs to hear this, too."

"Yeah," agreed Cam easily. "We are scheduled for a team training session in half an hour, you know. Just thought you'd appreciate a bit of advance warning."

"Yes," admitted Shane. "Thanks."

"Just doing my job."