Power Rangers Nexus
Chapter 49: The First Battleizer
"Well, well, well. Look who it is."
The Magna Defender winced as the words went crashing through his head. His vision cleared, showing that someone was looking down at him…someone with golden armor, a long, black coat, and a helmet shaped like a lion.
"Hey," Jareth said cheerfully, brandishing his scythe. "Remember that time you shot me in the head?"
The Magna Defender rolled aside, narrowly avoiding Kyra's blade as it embedded itself in the rocky ground. He sprang to his feet, drawing his sword, then leapt forward to attack, but the Gold Ranger screamed, producing a sonic blast that knocked the black-clad mercenary to the ground.
"Not this time," Jareth said, pulling his scythe free from the rock. "I have a few new tricks to show y-"
The Magna Defender vanished, literally melting into the shadows.
"Hey!" Jareth cried. "That's cheating!"
Blasts shot forth from nowhere, blasting holes through Jareth's armor. Unable to see his opponent, the Gold Ranger was quickly brought to his knees.
The Magna Defender reappeared directly in front of him, delivering a powerful, black-booted kick to his chin, sending him soaring up into the air, then crashing painfully to the rocks. With a golden flash, his morph failed, leaving him lying in his ordinary street clothes.
Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet, the world spinning dizzily around him. His vision was blurry, there were at least three Magna Defenders stalking toward him, saber drawn, intent on finishing him off.
"Razor Rush!"
A silver streak shot by, once, twice, each time producing a shower of sparks from the Magna Defender's armor. A pair of slashes appeared on his chest, crossing right over his heart. The streak raced at him from the front, this time ending in a powerful kick that landed right where the Magna Defender had been marked. The bounty hunter was blasted back by the force of the kick, tumbling to the dust.
"X marks the spot," Deacon quipped. He turned to Jareth. "That's 317 to 287, my favor, by the way."
"I told you, the Psycho Gold thing only counts as one," the Gold Ranger argued, He pulled himself to his feet…then paused, considering something. Experimentally, he took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Oh, hey, look," he said, grinning. "Air."
"Lucky you."
"Where are the others?"
"They went after Andros and Zhane. I thought I'd stay and help you clean up."
"Ah."
"Yes. Now morph and help me out here."
"Lion!"
Jareth's human body was replaced by Power Ranger armor with a burst of amber energy. He flicked out his finger-claws as Deacon drew his spinning diamond-saws.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"So who's in charge here?"
"What?"
"Who's in charge?" Zhane repeated. "Of this operation? Someone has to be in charge, right?"
"Right, right," Andros said. "Of course. One of us needs to be field commander."
"It should be you."
"Me?"
"You."
"Why me?"
"You're already used to commanding a team of Rangers, right? I just work with Magna Defender on occasion."
"Oh."
"Besides, you outrank me now."
"Leader of the Kerovans. That's right," Andros said. He nodded. "Okay. So I'm in charge."
There was a pause, broken only by the sound of the elevator's motor as it carried them to the top of the corporate office building.
"I don't want to be in charge," Andros suddenly said.
"What?"
"I don't want to be-"
"Why not?"
"I'm not ready to be leader. I never counted on this."
"Barthello couldn't live forever."
"I know, but somehow it never hit me that if anything happened to him, I'd be it."
"Oh."
"So you be in charge."
"Could you trust me to be in charge?" Zhane asked.
Andros considered. "Yes. I could."
There was another pause.
"I couldn't," Zhane said. "No. I can't. You be in charge."
"You do realize how surreal this is?" Andros asked.
"What?"
"This. The two of us. We've spent years trying to kill each other, and now we're standing side by side in an elevator, bickering over who gets to boss the other around."
"Oh. That."
"Yes. That."
"Yes. Very surreal."
"I thought so."
"Changing the subject isn't going to get me to take the job," Zhane pointed out.
"Dammit," Andros said. "So what will?"
"Dunno."
"Is there something we can work out where neither of us in charge?"
"Can we do that?"
"No. Of course not. Stupid idea. Someone has to be in charge."
"Well, can we both be in charge?"
"Yes!" Andros said. "Brilliant. Let's go with that."
"Okay," Zhane agreed.
"Okay."
With a ding, the elevator stopped, the doors sliding open.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Magna Defender rose to his feet, puling out his rifle. He fired a concentrated pulse of energy at Deacon's feet, melting the rock on which the Silver Ranger stood.
Deacon sank into the molten rock, just managing to keep his head, one arm and the top half of his chest above ground. As quickly as it had melted, the rock cooled and hardened, sealing him where he was.
"You can wait your turn," Magna Defender said, turning from Deacon to Jareth. "After all…a good bounty hunter always concludes one business transaction before proceeding to the next."
Jareth blinked as the Magna Defender advanced on him.
"Meep."
The Magna Defender pulled his sword from his rifle, clipping the sheathe-barrel to his belt and twirling the sword menacingly.
Now, the Gold Ranger decided, was as good a time as any.
"Hope this works," he muttered, raising his left arm so that his Spirit Summoner faced forward. He brought his right arm across, striking the buttons on the front of the device.
"Gold Ranger--Battlize!"
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Zhane and Andros skidded to a halt as a long row of hidden doors in the walls opened and a number of mechanical sentries strode out, blocking their way forward.
The Silver Ranger let out a low whistle. "COGS. Wow. Those are expensive. We've been trying to secure a shipment of these for years. On-board ion cannons, concealed laser-artillery in the faceplates, draconium-powered servomotors, carbon-terrelium-alloy body armor…I'd like to see the Kerovans try to stand up against-"
Andros shot Zhane a look, and Zhane broke off with a cough, realizing what he was saying and to whom.
"Ahem. Well. Anyway. They're strong."
"And they aren't attacking because…?"
"Because we haven't tried to pass them yet."
Andros nodded. Constructs tended to take their orders literally…if these 'COGS' had been ordered not to let anyone pass them, then there was no reason for them to react to anything that didn't try.
"Well," the Red Ranger said, his Spiral Saber appearing in his hand. "Let's see just how strong they are."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
A rush of energy surged through the Gold Ranger's body, so powerful it was almost painful. Bands of amber light began to travel along his limbs, beginning at the Summoner and working their way over the entire surface of his armor.
The golden boots that encased his lower legs changed shape, transforming from a pair of lion's paws to large, cloven hooves. The small, purely ornamental gold shoulder pads that had previously joined his half-sleeves to the body of his trench coat became larger and more solid, as did the previously slender and elegant gauntlets that encased his lower arms. A pair of dark, swept-back horns grew from his forehead, curving back over his mane. As the remnants of the Adamantium Ranger's Power Coin's energy flowed through Jareth's armor, the portions that had changed shape or size began to fade from their fiery burning gold to the dull brown-gray of adamantium. Finally, his chestplate altered, a large, perfectly round, emerald green, fist-sized gem appearing, framed by a gold sunburst, and a small, dull ring appeared in the nose of the lion's face on his helmet.
Magna Defender seemed startled at this sudden change, but quickly regained his composure.
"If you think a wardrobe change is going to defeat me, you're-"
"Bullhorn Crossbow!"
With a dull flash, if such a thing exists, a large, heavy-looking crossbow appeared in the Gold/Adamantium Ranger's hands. It was easily as long as his entire arm, the front of the weapon sculpted into the shape of a bull's head, its long horns forming the arms of the crossbow. There was some sort of barrel-like attachment at the bottom, likely some sort of ammunition chamber. Like all Ranger weapons, it seemed to a combination of space-age technology and pure, solidified magic, as much a cannon as a crossbow.
Jareth pulled the trigger, and a barrage of alternating energy blasts and long, heavy metal bolts filled the air. Magna Defender rolled aside, taking cover behind one of the large shards of broken rock that littered the area.
"I stand corrected," he grumbled, examining a long rent that had been torn in the armor of his left shoulder by one of the heavy bolts.
Twisting his Magna Saber into its rifle-mode, Magna Defender rolled out into the clearing, strafing the amped-up Ranger. No less than three blasts of green light struck their target, but the blasts glanced off Jareth's enhanced armor, not even scratching the metallic surface.
With the sound of splintering metal, the jagged bolts of the Bullhorn Crossbow pierced Magna Defender's shadowy black armor, the force of their impact dragging him back until he collided with one of the nearby boulders, splinters of black plastic-metal falling to the ground.
Spears of pain lanced through Magna Defender's body as more bolts struck him, the barbed missiles shattering his body still more and solidly nailing him in place, the energy blasts melting and fusing his armor plates together.
Somehow, he managed to keep hold of his saber. He tightened his grip on the weapon's hilt, trying to maintain some sort of focus through the blinding pain.
The barrage stopped.
"Had enough?' the Jareth asked cockily, stowing the devastating crossbow.
"No one defeats the Magna Defender," he replied grimly.
The Uber-Ranger shrugged. "Have it your way.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Andros dusted himself off, kicking idly at one of the numerous broken COGS that littered the hall.
"They weren't so strong," he said dismissively.
"Right. That's why I had to jump in and save your ass. Twice."
"I saved yours three times," Andros retorted, walking down the hall towards the door at the end.
"You cannot possibly be counting that last save. I could have gotten out of that," the Silver Ranger argued, following.
"I know."
"Really, I could have," Zhane continued.
"I know."
"One twist of the blade, followed by a spinning kick-"
"I know."
"It would have been easy."
"I know."
"Well, just so that's clear."
"Crystal."
The door opened to reveal yet another stretch of hallway. The hall was wide, well-decorated…and empty.
Zhane paused.
"Something wrong?" Andros asked.
"It's too easy," Zhane replied.
Andros frowned. Reaching down, he broke off a small chunk of one of the porcelain pots that housed one of the decorative plants that lined the hall. He tossed it ahead.
The chunk landed softly on the carpeted floor.
"Seems safe enough," the Red Ranger said.
"I dunno….remember that trap we came across, when we were together in the Neutral Zone?"
Andros did remember. The trap had been linked to a pressure plate in the ground, one designed to trigger when enough weight was on it. Neither of them had been large enough at the time to trigger it, it had only gone off when they'd stood on it together.
The same principle could easily apply here. Tossing something ahead was a good way to test for motion-sensors, but a chip of porcelain didn't have nearly enough weight to trip a pressure plate.
"Hmm…"
Bending down, Andros hefted the entire potted plant and heaved it forward.
As soon as the heavy, dirt-filled pot landed, a number of small disks fired themselves from hidden launchers, blades extending from their casings as they flew. The disks tore through the flimsy material, shredding the plant, shattering the pot, and sending dirt flying everywhere.
"Called it," Zhane said. "So how do we get past? Or is it out of ammo?"
Andros eyed the launchers as they retracted back into the walls. "Doubt it."
"They wouldn't re-set if the trap was sprung, would they?" Zhane agreed.
Andros whipped out his Astro Blaster. "Throw another plant."
Zhane grabbed another of the large potted plants and heaved it onto the floor next to the first. As before, the launchers popped out and prepared to fire.
They never got the chance. Four quick blasts from Andros' gun demolished the launchers, leaving only smoking husks of machinery jutting forth from the walls.
"Onward?" Zhane asked, smirking as Andros holstered his gun.
"Onward."
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Holding his arms, fists clenched, out to the sides, Jareth began to direct power into the green gem embedded within his chestplate. The eyes of his helmet flashed red briefly, then the gem began to glow, to shine, with an intensity that would have put the sun to shame.
Magna Defender narrowed his eyes, concentrating. At the last possible moment, he gave a mighty heave, tearing himself free of the barbed metal rods that pinned him, what remained of his shattered armor splintering to the point that some of his limbs barely stayed attached. Pain like none he'd ever experienced filled his body as he leapt aside, his left leg breaking completely off at mid-thigh, causing him to collapse, broken, to the ground.
A devastating blast of energy, as thick as a man's torso, shot out from the enhanced Ranger's gem, completely atomizing the spot where Magna Defender had been, if the term applied, standing.
Magna Defender pushed himself to his remaining foot, leaning on his sword for balance. His once-gaudy cape was nothing more than a tattered shred of red cloth dangling from his shoulders, one of his horns had been broken off, his broken armor bled liquid magic from almost everywhere. There didn't seem to be a square inch of his body that hadn't been completely ruined.
"You'd best pray that someone else destroys you before I get the chance, Jareth Valentine. Because I will have my revenge. And I will make it as long and painful as only I know how."
And, with a flash of green light, the Magna Defender vanished.
"Not bad, as parting lines go," Jareth said, dusting off his hands. "A bit wordy, though." He strolled over to where the Silver Ranger was partially entombed.
Deacon blinked. "Hey, what-" he began, staring up as the Battleized Gold ranger drew back his fist.
"Megaton Hammer!"
The Silver Ranger flinched as Jareth slammed a glowing fist against the ground, just inches from his face. The earth rippled in radiating circles from the point of impact, the rocky surface cracking. Where the rock had already been stressed by the Magna Defender's rapid melting, it crumbled to sand.
"Thought you were gonna bash my head in for a second there," The Silver ranger said, as jareth grasped his free hand and pulled him out of the ground, almost tossing him into the air due to his unaccustomed enhanced strength.
"Would I do that?"
"Not on purpose. But your aim's terrible."
Jareth cocked his head t the side, considering. "I don't think it is, at the moment. Adamantium Ranger's weapon is a crossbow. Decent aim seems to be part of the package."
"Mmhmm. Do tell," Deacon said, crossing his arms as he looked up at his friend. A sif it wasn't bad enough that Jareth was already taller than him, the bastard had now grown at least a head and a half taller. "And while you're at it, how'd you know you could do this?"
"Lucky guess? I saw Andros use his, so-"
Jareth suddenly let out a cry and doubled over as though he'd been punched in the stomach, the enhanced parts of his armor, and his Spirit Summoner, beginning to glow. He fell to his knees, and would have fallen over entirely if Deacon hadn't leapt forward to grab him.
"Jareth? You okay?"
Jareth didn't, couldn't answer. He hadn't been aware that a morphed Ranger could cry, but tears of pure pain were running from the corners of his tightly closed eyes. He knew perfectly well that he had no blood, but it felt as though he did, and it had been replaced with some sort of acid, an acid that was eating away at his veins and spreading through his flesh more and more with every beat of his heart, a horrible, corrosive, burning poison, eating him alive from the inside out. The last thing he was aware of before he blacked out entirely was the sensation of demorphing, his armor, enhancements and all, fading away, leaving him utterly burned out, cold, and empty.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"This is it," Andros said.
"Yeah."
"You ready?"
Zhane tightened his grip on his Silverizer. "Yeah."
"Okay."
"Okay."
The door to Gandris' office suddenly exploded inwards as the two Rangers blasted it open, not particularly caring whether it had been locked. They stormed in, weapons at the ready.
The office was absurdly extravagant, obviously designed to look as expensive as possible. The desk was beautifully engraved, and behind it, its back to the Rangers, was a plush, comfortable-looking armchair.
"Turn around, Gandris," Andros demanded, Astro Blaster pointed directly at the back of the plush, expensive-looking armchair.
No response.
"I said turn around!"
Zhane took a few cautious steps forward into the extravagantly decorated office, Silverizer in hand. He laid his hand on the back of the chair, swiveling it around to face them.
The chair was empty. Pinned to the back was a note, written in an elegant, flowing script.
Zhane pulled it free and began reading aloud:
Zhane and Andros,
I would have liked to be here to meet with the two of you in person, but my advisors have recommended against this, arguing that such a course would be hazardous to my continued breathing. I was forced to agree.
Congratulations on making it this far… To have made it into my inner sanctum, as it were, you must have fought together, side by side, precisely as I'd hoped you would. The small droid, perceptive as she is, was not entirely correct, you see. It was never my intention to convert the population of KO-35 to Quantum Coral, profitable though that may have been. I merely sought to provide a common problem, one that both of your factions would have had to set aside your differences to face. It was to that end I had the Coral Plague delivered to KO-35 in the first place, hoping that one faction or the other would release it whilst there was still hope for the planet. The cure is in the top left-hand drawer of my desk. Take it to your doctors, have them analyze and replicate it. If you act quickly enough, it should suffice to save you all.
Why, you may ask. Why would I want to stop your war when I was profiting so greatly from it? The answer is simple. It was a dead-end course. Suppose I HAD chosen to deplete your resources dry by selling you overpriced supplies. Suppose I was to kill you all, and sell your coralized bodies to the highest bidder. Serpentware would have profited, true, and so would I…but only so much. There would have been nothing left but a dead planet, a chunk of lifeless rock…and lifeless rock benefits no one. Ah, but if our people were to survive, if you were to stop making corpses of one another over a conflict that no one even remembers, if you were to come together, rebuild your world and join the rest of the civilized universe…think of the possibilities. As your society thrived, so too would your economy, benefiting not only yourselves, but also companies such as mine for generations to come.
And then there's the fact that I would no longer suffer the indignity of belonging to race composed entirely of angst-ridden, trigger-happy nitwits. No offense.
Good luck with the cure, and I hope all ends well. Yours sincerely,
Gandris
CEO, Serpentware Enterprises
P.S. Incidentally, I realize that neither of you may feel terribly inclined to do me any favors, but I do ask this: Thank Karone for me. She was pivotal in all of this: If not for her attachment to such important people as yourselves, and, in turn, your attachment to her, this solution may never have been possible. Just think: If you stop fighting, you can be a family. Karone will no longer have to choose between her blood and her heart.
P.S.S. I suggest that you make haste in your vacation of the building, not only due to those back on KO-35 in desperate need of that cure, but because this building will self-destruct approximately five minutes after you finish reading this message.
No sooner had Zhane spoken the word 'message' than a small panel on the top of the desk flipped over, extending upward, revealing a digital countdown timer. It began ticking down from five minutes.
"And now we have to run," Andros said resignedly.
