Special thanks to Justin, Gamine and Gillian for the help with the final scene in this episode. Couldn't have done it without you guys.

Confirmation

Kimberly waited for Jen in the reception area of the clinic.

It should have been Wes here, but just as they'd been preparing to leave the SGHQ an urgent call had come in that Wes had been forced to take. Kimberly had readily agreed to act as moral support instead.

At that point in her thoughts, Kimberly spotted Jen returning, a strange, shell-shocked mix of fear, horror and delight on her face. Not more bad news... She was on her feet and across to Jen in an instant.

"I'm pregnant," Jen stated woodenly. "My two children have been abducted...they need me to be a ranger...and I'm pregnant."

~*~

Miller gave a jaundiced look over the wreckage of the East Hills training facility. He'd been a Silver Guardian since the force's inception -- longer, in fact, than Commander Myers -- and this was probably the most senseless act of violence he'd seen in that time. The amazing thing was, he reflected, that Commander Earhardt was the only serious casualty, and while three inches of steel in the shoulder was not fun, it wasn't life threatening.

Better call this in to SGHQ and let them know Commander Earhardt's out of action. He sighed and turned away from the smoking ruins only to find himself facing two rangers, one Pink, one Black.

Before he could say or do anything, Black grabbed him and pinned his arms behind his back.

"That," said Pink, "was a warning."

"You did this?" Miller retorted. "You going to kill me now?"

Pink snorted. "I said: this is a warning -- and I'm sorry your colleague got hurt." There did seem to be genuine regret in her voice.

"What we want," continued Black, his voice very close to Miller's ear, "is for you to give a message to your Time Force masters."

"My what?"

Pink plucked at his uniform. "Your bosses," she said. "Tell them to be at the old grain warehouse at six o'clock this evening or this is just the start of a long line of destruction."

Black squeezed his arms tighter then suddenly the pressure on his shoulders was gone as both Rangers vanished in a haze of teleportation sparkles.

~*~

Jen said nothing on the journey back to the SGHQ. Kimberly guessed she was still trying to come to terms with things.

Why does everything happen at once? Kimberly wondered as she piloted the borrowed SUV into the parking lot of the SGHQ.

"I can't be the Pink Ranger," said Jen suddenly.

Kimberly pulled into a space and parked, not knowing how to respond to that.

"But," Jen continued, "we need the Pink Ranger. If there's Cyclobots involved...can't afford not to have a Pink Ranger." Kimberly opened her mouth to say something. "C'mon, I've got an idea."

Kimberly turned to look at Jen. For the first time since they'd left the clinic, there was a positive, decisive light to Jen's expression. "An idea?" Kimberly echoed.

"Need to go and see Michael Zaskin," Jen replied, undoing her seatbelt. "C'mon."

~*~

Eric was about to stand up, intending to head down to Zaskin's lab to see if there was any news, when his phone started to ring.

Please be news...

"Myers," he answered.

"Commander um..." Gina sounded nervous. Eric felt his heart sink. More bad news, then. "Paul...Commander Miller's just called in. There's been an explosion at the East Hills centre."

Eric froze. "What?"

"There was a bomb threat," Gina clarified.

"What? When?"

"This morning -- Commander Johnson was dealing with it."

Which, of course, Ben was likely to do -- the days of Eric taking every single decision in the Silver Guardians about who did what had long since gone and he wasn't generally sorry about that. "I see." Then a thought struck him. "Hang on -- if Ben was in charge..." A new, sinking feeling invaded the pit of his stomach.

"Commander Johnson is OK," Gina answered, "but he's at the hospital."

"What happened?"

"Commander Earhardt was injured." Eric closed his eyes. "It's not serious but..."

"How?" Eric asked.

"Falling debris," Gina answered. "Paul said he's on his way here. Said there was something you'd want to know."

~*~

After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Foster -- including what the doctor had told Foster about his injuries -- Wes was about to leave the other man's hospital room and head back to the SGHQ when the nurse who'd shown him up to the room reappeared, bearing a clipboard.

"I guess you'll be wanting to see the others now," she said.

Wes blinked.

"Others?" Foster queried. "I didn't think Clingeleffer or Jones would be here."

Wes shook his head. "They're not -- they went to SGHQ. Others?" he added, looking at the nurse.

"A couple more Guardians have been brought in," the nurse replied, consulting with her clipboard. "Danielle Hines," Foster swore softly, "and Taylor Earhardt."

Wes felt his skin chill. "Why?"

"What happened to them?" Foster wanted to know.

"Ms Hines has major concussion; Ms Earhardt has a rather nasty shoulder wound." At that moment, Ben appeared, his expression looking thunderous. The nurse took one look at him, sighed and left.

"Ben?" said Wes. "How's Taylor?"

A brief smile flickered across Ben's face. "She's going to be OK. She's pissed but...three inches of steel through your shoulder won't improve your temper." Wes winced. "Just got word from the boss," Ben continued. "We've got a meeting back at SGHQ."

~*~

Jen folded her arms across her chest and watched as Zaskin consulted the scanner read-outs.

"Well," Zaskin began, "all the signs are good. All the readings are optimal... I'd say it's been successful." He looked round. "But the ultimate test..."

Jen nodded. "Kim -- catch." She tossed the small, egg-shaped device in Kimberly's direction. Kimberly caught it. "If you hold it against your left wrist the scanner will tell you if it's worked."

Kimberly nodded and did so. Jen held her breath. From the set of Zaskin's shoulders he too was waiting.

"DNA confirmed."

Jen sighed in relief. Zaskin's shoulders relaxed.

"Looks like we're family," said Kimberly, grinning broadly.

Jen nodded and opened her mouth to reply only to be stalled by a bleep from her Guardian headset. "Of course," she murmured, unclipping it and pulling it on, "there's still one hurdle." Into the headset she said, "Go ahead Control."

"Commander Myers has called an urgent meeting for all SG commanders," Control stated. "Is Mrs Myers with you?"

"Yes."

"She's also invited."

Jen felt a nervous thrill. That could only mean one thing: News. "Where and when?"

"Conference room one, SGHQ, twenty minutes."

"Understood. Commander Collins out."

"Problems?" asked Kimberly.

"News," Jen answered. "Eric's called a meeting."

~*~

To say the frustration was getting to Eric was an understatement as he waited in the conference room for everyone to arrive. He had a gut feeling that these new Rangers were somehow, someway connected to the kidnapping of Alice, John, Rick and Lexia. It was too much like coincidence, something he'd long since stopped believing in.

"Boss?" Miller's voice drew Eric out of his reverie. "What're you going to do?"

"What about?"

"The ultimatum."

Eric offered Miller a wry smile. "Honestly, Paul? I don't know."

The conference door opened to admit Wes, Ben and, to Eric's surprise, Foster.

"He insisted," said Wes before Eric could comment, in a tone of voice that implied he didn't think much of Foster's decision.

"Bruised ribs and mild concussion," Foster retorted. "I've had worse. Besides," he added, taking a seat at the conference table, "we're short one commander and it's not like I don't have a contribution to make in this meeting."

Before Eric could answer, the door of the conference room opened again, this time to admit Kimberly and Jen. He pinched the bridge of his nose and just groaned.

Kimberly lifted an eyebrow as she sat down. "OK?"

"Yeah." Eric pinched the bridge of his nose again and swallowed back the frustration and irritation.

"Message I got," said Jen, "was that there was news. What's up?"

Grateful for the opportunity to get the meeting underway, Eric nodded. "What isn't?" he replied. He briefly outlined what had occurred at the East Hills facility, including the ultimatum.

"Sure seem to be preoccupied by Time Force," Foster observed. "Which is weird for an organisation that doesn't exist yet."

"Well, technically," Wes replied, "Jen, Eric and I are employed by Time Force. Guess that means it does exist. Kinda."

"Very 'kinda'," murmured Eric.

Foster looked thoughtful for a moment. "What she actually said to me was 'your Time Force masters'."

"They're after us," Eric judged.

"You're not paranoid but the man following you is," Kimberly murmured.

"And just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get me." Eric looked across at Wes and Jen. "What do you think?"

Wes looked grim. "You're right. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"You think this could be what Lucas mentioned?" Ben asked.

"It could be," said Jen. "I know that morphers were considered to be weapons."

"So what now?" Miller asked.

"Is there anything else about these guys?" Eric asked. "Any signs of any weapons?"

"They have blasters," Foster stated, a rueful smile on his face. "Clingeleffer, Jones and I can testify to that. Apart from that -- and apart from the robots -- no other weapons."

Eric stared at Foster. "Robots?"

"Cyclobots. They were a number of 'em at Cranston Plaza."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Jen, paling.

Foster nodded.

"If they had Cyclobots with them..." Kimberly began.

"They probably know where the children are," Eric finished.

"They want Time Force," said Ben. "Why not give 'em Time Force?"

~*~

Kimberly listened as plans were laid for the meeting that evening. When Eric mentioned Jen's presence in the plan, she opened her mouth to speak, only to catch Jen shaking her head. Not the time. Kimberly nodded and subsided.

"I'm in on this," Foster insisted as Eric drew the meeting to a close. "I owe 'em at least one."

Kimberly watched as Eric groaned. "All right -- I'm not going to argue with you Fos."

Foster looked triumphant as he left the room with Ben and Miller.

"He's nuts," Eric muttered.

"Takes one to know one," Wes shot back.

Kimberly smiled faintly at the look Eric favoured Wes with.

"There's ah...a slight hitch with this plan," said Jen.

Kimberly could see concern and irritation warring in Eric's expression. The concern won out.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Wes' expression, Kimberly noted, was the same shell-shocked mix of horror, fear and delight that Jen's had been when she'd initially left the consulting room at the clinic.

"I'm three weeks pregnant," Jen answered.

Eric looked stunned. "Oh," was all he actually said. Kimberly could all too easily guess what else it was he wanted to say and knew none of it was either polite or aimed at Jen, just at matters in general.

"I know." Jen sighed. "Everything happens at once."

"Understatement of the year," Eric retorted sharply, then looked contrite. "Sorry."

Wes offered a faint smile as he wrapped his arm around Jen's shoulders. "We'll find a way around this."

Jen smiled a little. "Actually," she said, "I...we already have."

"We...?" Eric looked from Jen to Kimberly and back. "Oooh no."

Wes looked stunned. "That's not possible."

"It is possible," Eric cut in. "And dangerous and not tried and just no!"

"Huh?" said Wes.

"One of Zaskin's current projects," Jen explained, "is DNA masking."

"I know that," Wes retorted.

"You are not doing it," Eric stated.

Kimberly smiled at her husband. "Aren't I?"

"It's dangerous..."

"If you tell me that being a Ranger is dangerous so help me I'll..."

"It's already done," Jen cut in.

Eric paled. "Done?"

"Done," Kimberly confirmed. She softened her expression. "Eric -- I've done this before. You know I have." Eric's expression cracked, revealing the source of his anger: A deep-seated fear. That was something Kimberly could sympathise with. She reached out and touched him on the arm. "Remember: Not made of glass."

Eric sighed, looking down, presumably at her hand. "I know." He sighed. "I'd be an idiot not to go for this idea." He looked up, fear now almost successfully masked. "OK. On one condition."

"Which is?" said Jen.

"You want to put me through my paces this afternoon?" Kimberly suggested.

Eric nodded. "Damn straight. I want to be sure this is really going to work."

~*~

Eric was almost relieved, at six o'clock, to lead the handpicked contingent of Guardians into the warehouse. Between checking, double checking and triple checking that the grain depot wasn't one huge trap designed to blow them all to hell and checking, double checking and triple checking that the DNA masking really was going to work and the Pink Chrono-morpher wasn't suddenly going to fail mid-fight, the afternoon had probably been one of the most stressful of his career.

The contingent was twelve strong, including himself. Wes, Ben and Miller had been automatic choices, having had plenty of experience fighting Cyclobots. Kimberly was naturally included as was Foster -- despite medical advice and Eric's own better judgement. The other six members of the party were all experienced Guardians although of the six, only Schwartz had been an active Guardian during Ransik's attacks on the city. He hoped that wasn't going to be a problem.

In a shimmer of teleportation sparkles, the so-called Vengeance Rangers arrived in the warehouse accompanied by some four score of Cyclobots.

"Ho-lee shit," breathed Foster.

Eric felt inclined to agree as he made a visual assessment of the four rangers. One amongst them was a good strategist, he could say that much for certain. They'd picked the battleground and automatically put the meeting on their terms by showing up with so many Cyclobots.

From the way they were standing, Eric judged the two men of the team -- Red and Black -- to be fighters although Black's stance was that little bit more firm and certain. White, who was to the fore of the group in the position Eric had himself adopted -- that of leader -- also looked to be a fighter, although her whole attitude reminded him of teenager in a snit. Pink, who was standing just behind White and between Red and Black, looked flat out nervous.

Further assessment was stalled as White took a step forward.

"You showed up," she drawled. "I'm impressed."

"Momma brought me up to be punctual," Ben answered.

White cocked her head. "Getting the help to speak for you, old man?" she jibed.

Eric matched her gesture and stepped forward, not rising to the bait. "You've gone to a lot of trouble to get us here," he stated calmly. "What do you want?"

White folded her arms across her chest. "It's quite straightforward. We want you."

"Why?"

White laughed, a hard, brittle sound. "Because we're going to finish what you started, old man."

That seemed to be the cue for all hell to break loose. The Cyclobots surged forwards; ending what few hopes Eric might have entertained of this being discussed peacefully.

As the first wave of 'bots reached him, Eric noted that the four Rangers stayed out of the fray, observing events. He buried his fist into the midriff of the nearest robot. Definitely a good tactician in that group, he decided, even as the Cyclobot fought back. Stand back... He winced as the bot landed a kick to his knee, all but taking out his leg. Watch how we fight... He dropped into a crouch and swept the legs out from under several nearby Cyclobots. Then pick us off when we're tired. He rolled back to his feet, ready to launch himself at the next foe. Well two can play at that game.

Over the comm. he said, "Guardians -- you have the metal heads..."

"Say what you like," cut in Foster, "but the Black one's mine."

"I've got Red," added Wes.

"Pink's mine," said Kimberly.

Eric opened his mouth to countermand that but Ben got in first: "Kick that leader bitch's ass, boss," he instructed. "For Barbie and Taylor."

Beneath his helmet, Eric smiled thinly. "You got it." So saying, he vaulted over the mass of Cyclobots, aware of Wes, Kimberly and Foster following his lead in their own fashions, and landed right in front of the White Ranger. Aloud he said, "You know it's kinda rude to start a party and then not dance yourself."

"You think you can keep up with me, old man?" the White Ranger shot back. "Well lemme see what you got."

So saying, she launched a high, snap kick that was intended to take his head off. Eric swayed out of the way, deflecting the blow as he went. She spun with his deflection, coming round into a series of punches. He rolled with the blows, waiting for an opening.

Sure enough, one came as White lunged forward. Eric twisted, letting her blow slide by. As she stumbled, taken beyond her point of balance by the lack of an impact, he hooked her leg out from under her and she fell.

"Is that the best you've got, old man?" she sneered as she rolled back to her feet. "Cheap shots and dodges?"

"Oh, there's plenty more." Eric dropped into a ready stance and made a 'c'mon' motion with his hands.

She didn't disappoint.

She rushed him. Beneath his helmet, Eric smiled ferally. As she neared him, he grabbed her and executed a hip toss but rather than letting go, he pivoted round, retaining his hold on her arm, twisting it up and behind her back.

She reacted automatically, trying to drive her free elbow back into his gut. He evaded that, and the inevitable foot stamp but there was no avoiding her third attempt at getting free. Her right foot came up and planted itself in his groin.

Eric reeled away, doubled over. He knew the pain would be worse if he was unmorphed but...

She kicked out at him, catching him first on the shoulder and then the chest, then the head for good measure, the last blow enough to snap his head back and make him see stars.

"And here I thought you were a warrior," White hissed.

Eric blinked. He could taste blood on his tongue and he realised he had bitten either tongue or lip.

"But you're nothing. You're just a sad, pathetic old man and you're goin' down."

"I don't think so," Eric retorted.

Before she could add another jibe, it was Eric's turn to rush her, but as he neared her and she started to reach to return the hip toss he sprang, somersaulting over her. He landed behind her. As she turned, he was up into the air to deliver a snap kick of his own, connecting with the 'jaw' of her helmet.

Her head jerked back at the blow. Eric followed up, not giving her a chance to recover, kicking out with his trailing leg as he came down, catching her this time on the breastbone. She reeled backwards.

Eric followed her, not letting up. He punched, again catching her in the chest. She took another step backwards. He followed, driving her back with a flurry of kicks and punches that were less and less defended.

He dropped into a leg sweep, clicking her ankles together and dropping her. She hit the ground, striking her head awkwardly.

The crack echoed through a suddenly silent warehouse, bringing Eric up short. He froze. The last thing he wanted to do was kill her.

Unsteadily, she clambered back to her feet, shaking her head. "Is that...the best you got...old man?"

The sway to her stance to told Eric she was all but unconscious where she stood. He slowly shook his head.

"Give it up kid," he said.

"Fight me you son of a bitch!"

"No."

"You've got to pay!" she screamed. "You did this to me!"

Eric barely had a chance to register the words before she was charging him in a blind fury. He reacted instinctively, using the momentum of her charge against her in another hip toss. As she went over, her helmet came free.

Eric realised the second the helmet came off what must have happened. When her head had struck the concrete one of the catches had born the brunt of the blow and the violence of the hip toss was more than one catch alone could stand. The white shell now spun away across the concrete.

There was a long, frozen moment. Eric's gaze switched from the helmet to the now helmet-less White Ranger. All he could see of her was a loose, blonde braid as she tried to push herself up off the concrete. He stepped closer.

"C'mon kid -- don't be stupid." Eric held out a hand, offering her help, but even as he did so he recognised the familiarity of the situation. The blonde hair, the way she moved, the way her breath sounded as it came in winded pants. He froze, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. It couldn't be...shouldn't be...

Oblivious to his torment, she managed to get to her knees and from there to her feet. He wanted to tell her to stop. So long as he didn't see her face this wasn't real, but she kept moving, unsteadily turning towards him.

And then it was too late. She was facing him. This was real. This was happening. Bile hit the back of his throat. "Nonononono..." His knees gave out and he found himself collapsed on the concrete, looking up at her. Seeing her glare angrily back.

"I don't need your help," she hissed. "Daddy."

TO BE CONTINUED...