A/N: Thank you all SO much for your encouraging reviews!!!! They are
greatly appreciated and really give me motivation to post the next chapter
as quickly as possible!
***
Alex stepped into the Drill and Ceremonies Room and stood at attention, waiting for Commander Stanford to enter; the older man was back after months of leave, having been seriously ill. Alex had expected to stay at the Academy only a few weeks, but instead he had been their instructor for three months; he scanned the ranks and nodded with satisfaction at their blank expressions, their eyes staring straight ahead.
"As you all know," he said, "Commander Stanford has recovered and is returning today as your instructor, which means I will be leaving on a new assignment." He glanced at Jen, who stared ahead blankly, although her jaw twitched slightly, reacting to the news.
The doors flew open and a tall, burly man walked in with a glare that startled even Alex; Stanford had gray hair that was trimmed neatly, broad shoulders and growing belly, obviously not the man he was twenty years before. He walked across the room and stood next to Alex, who saluted him respectfully, his heels clicking together as he did a right face in order to look the commander in the eye.
"I've been told you made a fine instructor, Lieutenant," Stanford said in a gruff voice, "I must admit my surprise, given your age. Nevertheless, I must express my gratitude."
"It was my pleasure, sir," Alex replied, "you have a fine company of cadets."
"We shall see . . . " Stanford turned to the cadets and glared at them viciously, the intimidation was apparent in the faces of the young men and women standing in formation. "We will begin today with marching excercises-- -but first, bid 'farewell' to Lieutenant Collins. Fall out!"
One-by-one, the cadets walked up to Alex and said a simple good-bye; then Lucas came up and smirked a little, shaking Alex's hand as he said: "Good luck with your next assignment. Keep your head down."
"Good-bye," Alex said simply, making no promises.
Finally, Jen stepped forward and stood at ease, although obviously uncomfortable; she bit her lip and he was forced to look away briefly, her brown eyes piercing into him. She found her voice, and spoke quietly, with a twinge of hope beneath the fearful tremor:
"Will I . . . ever see you again???"
Alex sighed. "I don't know," he admitted, "I can't make any promises." Her face fell and she struggled to maintain her composure, he longed to put his hand on her soft cheek and comfort her, but everyone was watching and it would be frowned upon, to say the least. "But I will do my best," he whispered, "to come back . . . to you."
"Be careful," Jen said, quietly, "I don't want to see your name on the casualty list someday."
"Good-bye . . . Jennifer."
Alex turned quickly and walked out without looking back, half-listening as Stanford barked out orders to the cadets he considered his own; he had received his new orders the previous night and was to ship out the next morning, before sunrise. He wondered if he would ever see Jen again, if he ever did, would she still feel the same way? She adored him, but it was only because of his rank, and the encouragement he had given her when she was considering dropping out of the Academy. That was his job, to train good soldiers, any instructor would have done the same thing.
Inside, he knew that wasn't true at all. When a cadet wanted to quit---or "take a stroll down wash-out lane" as the old saying went---then the instructors, would kick them out into the cold, saying they simply "couldn't hack it." Instead, he hadn't taken Jen aside and helped her through the difficult classes, teaching her how to study correctly, and instantly her grades had shot up.
He went into his room and lied down slowly, intent on getting a good amount of rest before leaving the following morning; he was assigned to help other officers capture Ransik in hopes that if they brought him down, the mutant rebellion would fall. He smiled to himself, imagining the day when he would bring Ransik in and the mutant leader would stand trial for the murders of thousands.
He rolled onto his side and looked at his empty desk, everything was cleared out so he could get up and leave quickly when the time came; he had dreaded his assignment as an instructor when he first began, but as he prepared to leave, he knew he would miss it. He would miss Lucas. And Katie. And Jennifer . . .
His eyelids drooped and began to feel heavy as he lay in silence, sleep overcame him slowly, although his surrendered to it willingly . . .
. . . it was still dark outside when Alex stepped out and started walking down the long, narrow sidewalk to the road where his ride awaited him; he could see the young ensign in the driver's seat, tapping the wheel nervously. He paused at the end of the walk and looked back at the building one last time, wishing he could stay but knowing he would be assigned to combat units as long as he was young and healthy enough to fight.
"Good morning, Ensign," he said as he sat down in the backseat.
"Good morning, Lieutenant."
"Early to be out, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
Alex leaned against the window and watched the Academy disappear behind him as he rode down the street and toward the processing station, where he would undergo a last-minute physical before leaving Earth. It took fifteen minutes to get there, and with a quick pat on the ensign's shoulder he got out and went inside; he was immediately greeted by a stern-looking man he recognized as Colonel Roberts.
"Welcome back to the field, Lieutenant," he said.
"Thank you, Colonel."
"Looking forward to seeing some more action?"
Alex hesitated, remembering the horror of his last battle. "Looking forward to bringing Ransik to justice, sir," he replied, evenly.
"I see . . . " the colonel said, "well, we all are. And I'm sure, with you working on it now, we'll bring him in sooner rather than later. Report to the infirmary for a physical, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
Alex set his bag down in the luggage room and locked them in a small compartment, then headed down the long hallway to the doorway with the sign INFIRMARY over it; the room was cold and sterile, pure white, with men and women wearing long, white coats wandering around quietly. He walked over to the desk and spoke, not waiting to be noticed:
"Lieutenant Collins, A. Reporting for a full physical."
"Please be seated, Lieutenant."
Alex sat down next to the desk and waited impatiently, watching as a number of wounded soldiers were helped inside by their comrades; he instantly wondered what had happened, where, and when. They kept filing in, moaning painfully, some being carried on stretchers; he stood and rushed to help a young woman as she struggled to carry her male comrade through the door.
"Thanks," she gasped, bleeding profusely from her head.
"What happened?" Alex asked, lifting the man and carrying him on his shoulder to a cot.
"We were ambushed . . . by Ransik," she answered, "on our way to pick up supplies."
"When?"
"Just an hour ago."
Alex shook his head and looked around for medical assistance, but everyone was occupied so instead he knelt at the ensign's side and felt for a pulse, glancing at the woman and saying: "I might need your help." She nodded and slowly eased herself to the floor, obviously in pain; Alex looked at her head briefly, quickly deciding that she would be fine, unlike her partner.
"I'm Ensign Williams," she said, "Laura."
"Lieutenant Collins," Alex said.
"What can I do to help?"
"I need a First Aid Kit," Alex replied, "go to the desk and get one . . . I don't care if it's the last one, this man's life depends on it."
Laura nodded and headed off to look for the kit while Alex further examined the ensign, the air was filled with the stench of blood and the sounds of painful cries echoed in his ears; it was too familiar, but he blocked it out as he concentrated on the man in front of him. Two eyes opened slowly and rested on him, he attempted a smile:
"I'm Lieutenant Collins . . . what's your name, soldier?"
"Ensign . . . Mayer."
"'Mayer', huh?" Alex bit his lip as he unzipped the man's jacket, his chest was embedded with large pieces of shrapnel.
"Am I-I gonna die . . . ?"
"No, Ensign. You're not." He looked up as Laura brought over the kit, taking it hastily he took out the scanner and ran it over Mayer's body; the older man moaned softly as he pressed a hand to a bloody gash on his thigh. "Put your hand here, Ensign," he said, taking Laura's hand and pressing it again the open wound.
"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked.
"Yes!" Alex snapped, glaring at her as she had spoken loud enough for the ensign to hear and begin to worry. "Calm down, Ensign . . . "
He worked quickly, tearing off the rest of Mayer's black turtleneck and bandaging up the wounds gushing blood all over the floor and his cot; Laura swallowed hard, bile rising in her throat. Alex shot her a look that made her blood run cold and forced her to remain calm for fear of his reaction if she didn't.
"Press hard," Alex told her, "we have to stop the bleeding."
"It won't stop," Laura said, pressing both hands down on the man's upper leg, blood flowed out freely and between her fingers.
Alex dug through the kit and pulled out a bandage, he tied it around Mayer's leg. "Didn't they teach you First Aid???" he demanded.
"Of course," Laura stammered, "b-but . . . "
"What?" Alex said, "you 'forgot in the heat of the battle'?" He had no patience for immaturity, and therefore ignored Ensign Williams as he worked on Mayer's battered body, struggling to save his life. The kit was full of primitive equipment, meant to sustain a soldier wounded in battle long enough so they could get him to a hospital . . . but Mayer's injuries were too severe, he needed better help.
"Get a doctor," he said, "someone who's treating less-serious injuries . . . now!"
Laura jumped to her feet and hurried off, Alex glanced back at her as she disappeared into the crowd of officers, he looked back at Mayer and sighed deeply, wondering if he would live or not . . .
NIGHT
"I heard about what happened this morning," Adm. Kendall said, "congratulations on another job well done, you saved that ensign's life."
Alex inwardly rolled his eyes . . . who wouldn't have stopped and helped Ensign Mayer??? He was a Time Force officer, that was his job! Aloud, he said: "Anyone would have done the same thing, sir. I hope I am not facing an reprimands for not arriving at my new post on time."
"No, no, no . . . " Kendall smiled, shaking his head. "Actually, we're changing things around a little bit, after further consideration."
"How so, Admiral?"
"You must report to Specialist Karen Fuller's office at o-seven-hundred hours tomorrow," Kendall replied, "you've been given new orders."
Alex blinked once, his face remaining unreadable as he stared at Kendall, hoping for more information on his new assignment; he wondered if it would still involve going after Ransik, or something entirely different. "Anything else, Admiral?" he asked.
"Specialist Fuller will explain everything tomorrow," Kendall said, "that's all you need to know for now. Dismissed."
*****
Specialist Karen Fuller was nearly six-feet-tall, broad shoulders and a slim waist, her blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, her blue eyes large and penetrating. She met Alex's cold stare unflinchingly for a long moment before she finally spoke:
"You have been chosen to be the first to receive a Chrono Morpher, Lieutenant. Have you ever heard of these?"
"Yes, briefly." Alex vaguely recalled a conversation between his father and Admiral Kendall about the Chrono Morphers.
"Well," Fuller said, "I know you've heard of the Power Rangers . . . of the late Twentieth and early Twenty-First Centuries?"
"Of course."
"They had morphers," Fuller explained, "although different kinds. Here---" she handed him a surprisingly heavy, metal-looking object "---strap this onto your wrist. It will lock onto your DNA, so no one else will ever be able to use it."
Alex placed it on his left wrist and strapped it on, his body was engulfed in a reddish glow and he felt himself being energized; he took a deep breath and steadied himself, finding the power overwhelming. "What is this for?" he asked.
"You've been assigned to go after Ransik," Fuller explained, "that is your primary mission in Time Force now, and this morpher will make that possible. You've been equipped with heavy artillery, and are now capable of taking on Ransik---and winning."
"In hand-to-hand combat???"
"Yes."
Alex was taken aback by her revelation, he turned so his back was toward Fuller and ran his other hand over his morpher, smiling slowly. 'This is it,' he realized, 'I'm going to bring him in . . . '
TBC
***
Alex stepped into the Drill and Ceremonies Room and stood at attention, waiting for Commander Stanford to enter; the older man was back after months of leave, having been seriously ill. Alex had expected to stay at the Academy only a few weeks, but instead he had been their instructor for three months; he scanned the ranks and nodded with satisfaction at their blank expressions, their eyes staring straight ahead.
"As you all know," he said, "Commander Stanford has recovered and is returning today as your instructor, which means I will be leaving on a new assignment." He glanced at Jen, who stared ahead blankly, although her jaw twitched slightly, reacting to the news.
The doors flew open and a tall, burly man walked in with a glare that startled even Alex; Stanford had gray hair that was trimmed neatly, broad shoulders and growing belly, obviously not the man he was twenty years before. He walked across the room and stood next to Alex, who saluted him respectfully, his heels clicking together as he did a right face in order to look the commander in the eye.
"I've been told you made a fine instructor, Lieutenant," Stanford said in a gruff voice, "I must admit my surprise, given your age. Nevertheless, I must express my gratitude."
"It was my pleasure, sir," Alex replied, "you have a fine company of cadets."
"We shall see . . . " Stanford turned to the cadets and glared at them viciously, the intimidation was apparent in the faces of the young men and women standing in formation. "We will begin today with marching excercises-- -but first, bid 'farewell' to Lieutenant Collins. Fall out!"
One-by-one, the cadets walked up to Alex and said a simple good-bye; then Lucas came up and smirked a little, shaking Alex's hand as he said: "Good luck with your next assignment. Keep your head down."
"Good-bye," Alex said simply, making no promises.
Finally, Jen stepped forward and stood at ease, although obviously uncomfortable; she bit her lip and he was forced to look away briefly, her brown eyes piercing into him. She found her voice, and spoke quietly, with a twinge of hope beneath the fearful tremor:
"Will I . . . ever see you again???"
Alex sighed. "I don't know," he admitted, "I can't make any promises." Her face fell and she struggled to maintain her composure, he longed to put his hand on her soft cheek and comfort her, but everyone was watching and it would be frowned upon, to say the least. "But I will do my best," he whispered, "to come back . . . to you."
"Be careful," Jen said, quietly, "I don't want to see your name on the casualty list someday."
"Good-bye . . . Jennifer."
Alex turned quickly and walked out without looking back, half-listening as Stanford barked out orders to the cadets he considered his own; he had received his new orders the previous night and was to ship out the next morning, before sunrise. He wondered if he would ever see Jen again, if he ever did, would she still feel the same way? She adored him, but it was only because of his rank, and the encouragement he had given her when she was considering dropping out of the Academy. That was his job, to train good soldiers, any instructor would have done the same thing.
Inside, he knew that wasn't true at all. When a cadet wanted to quit---or "take a stroll down wash-out lane" as the old saying went---then the instructors, would kick them out into the cold, saying they simply "couldn't hack it." Instead, he hadn't taken Jen aside and helped her through the difficult classes, teaching her how to study correctly, and instantly her grades had shot up.
He went into his room and lied down slowly, intent on getting a good amount of rest before leaving the following morning; he was assigned to help other officers capture Ransik in hopes that if they brought him down, the mutant rebellion would fall. He smiled to himself, imagining the day when he would bring Ransik in and the mutant leader would stand trial for the murders of thousands.
He rolled onto his side and looked at his empty desk, everything was cleared out so he could get up and leave quickly when the time came; he had dreaded his assignment as an instructor when he first began, but as he prepared to leave, he knew he would miss it. He would miss Lucas. And Katie. And Jennifer . . .
His eyelids drooped and began to feel heavy as he lay in silence, sleep overcame him slowly, although his surrendered to it willingly . . .
. . . it was still dark outside when Alex stepped out and started walking down the long, narrow sidewalk to the road where his ride awaited him; he could see the young ensign in the driver's seat, tapping the wheel nervously. He paused at the end of the walk and looked back at the building one last time, wishing he could stay but knowing he would be assigned to combat units as long as he was young and healthy enough to fight.
"Good morning, Ensign," he said as he sat down in the backseat.
"Good morning, Lieutenant."
"Early to be out, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
Alex leaned against the window and watched the Academy disappear behind him as he rode down the street and toward the processing station, where he would undergo a last-minute physical before leaving Earth. It took fifteen minutes to get there, and with a quick pat on the ensign's shoulder he got out and went inside; he was immediately greeted by a stern-looking man he recognized as Colonel Roberts.
"Welcome back to the field, Lieutenant," he said.
"Thank you, Colonel."
"Looking forward to seeing some more action?"
Alex hesitated, remembering the horror of his last battle. "Looking forward to bringing Ransik to justice, sir," he replied, evenly.
"I see . . . " the colonel said, "well, we all are. And I'm sure, with you working on it now, we'll bring him in sooner rather than later. Report to the infirmary for a physical, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
Alex set his bag down in the luggage room and locked them in a small compartment, then headed down the long hallway to the doorway with the sign INFIRMARY over it; the room was cold and sterile, pure white, with men and women wearing long, white coats wandering around quietly. He walked over to the desk and spoke, not waiting to be noticed:
"Lieutenant Collins, A. Reporting for a full physical."
"Please be seated, Lieutenant."
Alex sat down next to the desk and waited impatiently, watching as a number of wounded soldiers were helped inside by their comrades; he instantly wondered what had happened, where, and when. They kept filing in, moaning painfully, some being carried on stretchers; he stood and rushed to help a young woman as she struggled to carry her male comrade through the door.
"Thanks," she gasped, bleeding profusely from her head.
"What happened?" Alex asked, lifting the man and carrying him on his shoulder to a cot.
"We were ambushed . . . by Ransik," she answered, "on our way to pick up supplies."
"When?"
"Just an hour ago."
Alex shook his head and looked around for medical assistance, but everyone was occupied so instead he knelt at the ensign's side and felt for a pulse, glancing at the woman and saying: "I might need your help." She nodded and slowly eased herself to the floor, obviously in pain; Alex looked at her head briefly, quickly deciding that she would be fine, unlike her partner.
"I'm Ensign Williams," she said, "Laura."
"Lieutenant Collins," Alex said.
"What can I do to help?"
"I need a First Aid Kit," Alex replied, "go to the desk and get one . . . I don't care if it's the last one, this man's life depends on it."
Laura nodded and headed off to look for the kit while Alex further examined the ensign, the air was filled with the stench of blood and the sounds of painful cries echoed in his ears; it was too familiar, but he blocked it out as he concentrated on the man in front of him. Two eyes opened slowly and rested on him, he attempted a smile:
"I'm Lieutenant Collins . . . what's your name, soldier?"
"Ensign . . . Mayer."
"'Mayer', huh?" Alex bit his lip as he unzipped the man's jacket, his chest was embedded with large pieces of shrapnel.
"Am I-I gonna die . . . ?"
"No, Ensign. You're not." He looked up as Laura brought over the kit, taking it hastily he took out the scanner and ran it over Mayer's body; the older man moaned softly as he pressed a hand to a bloody gash on his thigh. "Put your hand here, Ensign," he said, taking Laura's hand and pressing it again the open wound.
"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked.
"Yes!" Alex snapped, glaring at her as she had spoken loud enough for the ensign to hear and begin to worry. "Calm down, Ensign . . . "
He worked quickly, tearing off the rest of Mayer's black turtleneck and bandaging up the wounds gushing blood all over the floor and his cot; Laura swallowed hard, bile rising in her throat. Alex shot her a look that made her blood run cold and forced her to remain calm for fear of his reaction if she didn't.
"Press hard," Alex told her, "we have to stop the bleeding."
"It won't stop," Laura said, pressing both hands down on the man's upper leg, blood flowed out freely and between her fingers.
Alex dug through the kit and pulled out a bandage, he tied it around Mayer's leg. "Didn't they teach you First Aid???" he demanded.
"Of course," Laura stammered, "b-but . . . "
"What?" Alex said, "you 'forgot in the heat of the battle'?" He had no patience for immaturity, and therefore ignored Ensign Williams as he worked on Mayer's battered body, struggling to save his life. The kit was full of primitive equipment, meant to sustain a soldier wounded in battle long enough so they could get him to a hospital . . . but Mayer's injuries were too severe, he needed better help.
"Get a doctor," he said, "someone who's treating less-serious injuries . . . now!"
Laura jumped to her feet and hurried off, Alex glanced back at her as she disappeared into the crowd of officers, he looked back at Mayer and sighed deeply, wondering if he would live or not . . .
NIGHT
"I heard about what happened this morning," Adm. Kendall said, "congratulations on another job well done, you saved that ensign's life."
Alex inwardly rolled his eyes . . . who wouldn't have stopped and helped Ensign Mayer??? He was a Time Force officer, that was his job! Aloud, he said: "Anyone would have done the same thing, sir. I hope I am not facing an reprimands for not arriving at my new post on time."
"No, no, no . . . " Kendall smiled, shaking his head. "Actually, we're changing things around a little bit, after further consideration."
"How so, Admiral?"
"You must report to Specialist Karen Fuller's office at o-seven-hundred hours tomorrow," Kendall replied, "you've been given new orders."
Alex blinked once, his face remaining unreadable as he stared at Kendall, hoping for more information on his new assignment; he wondered if it would still involve going after Ransik, or something entirely different. "Anything else, Admiral?" he asked.
"Specialist Fuller will explain everything tomorrow," Kendall said, "that's all you need to know for now. Dismissed."
*****
Specialist Karen Fuller was nearly six-feet-tall, broad shoulders and a slim waist, her blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, her blue eyes large and penetrating. She met Alex's cold stare unflinchingly for a long moment before she finally spoke:
"You have been chosen to be the first to receive a Chrono Morpher, Lieutenant. Have you ever heard of these?"
"Yes, briefly." Alex vaguely recalled a conversation between his father and Admiral Kendall about the Chrono Morphers.
"Well," Fuller said, "I know you've heard of the Power Rangers . . . of the late Twentieth and early Twenty-First Centuries?"
"Of course."
"They had morphers," Fuller explained, "although different kinds. Here---" she handed him a surprisingly heavy, metal-looking object "---strap this onto your wrist. It will lock onto your DNA, so no one else will ever be able to use it."
Alex placed it on his left wrist and strapped it on, his body was engulfed in a reddish glow and he felt himself being energized; he took a deep breath and steadied himself, finding the power overwhelming. "What is this for?" he asked.
"You've been assigned to go after Ransik," Fuller explained, "that is your primary mission in Time Force now, and this morpher will make that possible. You've been equipped with heavy artillery, and are now capable of taking on Ransik---and winning."
"In hand-to-hand combat???"
"Yes."
Alex was taken aback by her revelation, he turned so his back was toward Fuller and ran his other hand over his morpher, smiling slowly. 'This is it,' he realized, 'I'm going to bring him in . . . '
TBC