Summary: The Dino Gems choosing their owners, but what if the people who owned the Gems weren't who the Rangers were supposed to be?
Thanks, as always, go to Sarafu, for concepting, plotting, and being a shoulder to scream at when it doesn't work out.
Dr. Thomas Oliver, Tommy to his friends, carried a secret that not many could boast. Although, considering the number of years that had gone by, and the teams that had sprouted up in his wake, being an ex-Power Ranger wasn't exactly in the minority.
His passion, for all intents and purposes, was martial arts. He was fast, he was strong, he was an excellent fighter, and even though he had spent the last few years of his life as Tommy Oliver, Research Assistant, he still knew exactly what he was doing. He was never out of practice.
The crowd of some ten-odd burbling, babbling, dancing minions had circled him in the middle of campus, and were now lunging at him, waving their wobbling sticks with intent to injure. Or, possibly, kill. To be honest, he was never quite sure what the purpose of the Putties, Tengas, Cogs, or Piranhatrons were. Surely Rita and her successors never intent for their grunts to dispatch of the Rangers just like that. They were more likely a distraction, with the intention of tiring out the Rangers so that they wouldn't defeat the latest monster that quickly or that easily (or at all). So Tommy had a feeling that whatever these things were, they were part of something much bigger, and he should keep on his toes.
He landed on his back, underestimating the reach of the creature's swing. Two dropped down to dispose of him, but he kicked up with both legs, nailing his friends so they went flying. He jumped to his feet, taking down another one with a sweep kick, and just barely throwing his arm up in time to block another attack. The two he'd dispatched were back, he thought—okay, they all looked alike, but there were more now than there had been a second ago, so he could only assume. They came up behind him and grabbed his arms.
Tommy surveyed the approaching mini-army, wondering why trouble always seemed to find him.
Principal Randall checked her watch. Dr. Oliver had said he was only going to be a 'second'. Perhaps one of her first roles as administrator should be to make the teacher's parking lot closer to the school. In front of her, one of the truants sighed loudly. "Is this part of the whole punishment process?" he whined.
"Stuff it, Mr. McKnight," she sneered, and was about to launch into a diatribe, when a tiny alarm went off in her head. Panic settled in —why here, why now?— but she managed to keep it off of her face, instead surveying her charges with a sugary sweet smile. "Your supervisor seems to have disappeared," she said.
"Does that mean detention's off?" asked Ethan James eagerly.
"No. It means that I, unlike you, have places to be, and can't waste my time here." A passing faculty member caught her eye. "Mr. Reed!" she barked, and the man stopped, looking at her almost fearfully. "What are you doing this afternoon?"
"I have—"
"Excellent," she cut him off. "You're in charge of detention. These three are your slaves after school every day for a week. Make it painful," she instructed, and then stormed into her office.
With the door safely shut behind her, Elsa bowed her head in reverence. "Yes, Master," she said, and his voice flooded her brain.
"Elsa," the one called Mesogog hissed. "There is something...interesting going on, on the grounds of your school."
"Does it have to do with the Dino Gems?"
"No, it has to do with a series of grunts that I've never seen before. I want you to get out there and collect them for me."
"As you wish, Master," she said, ending the communication and making the transformation into Mesogog's minion Elsa. She had malice on her mind.
"My classroom's free," Mr. Reed of the history department announced, looking at the kids with something like sorrow. "Let's go."
"You know, Mr. Reed, my man, you don't want to be here, we don't want to be here..." Conner clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. He'd had Reed last year, and the guy had let him miss class for impromptu practices.
But the teacher shook his head. "I can't, Conner. Randall isn't nearly as lenient as Principal Walker was. You gotta serve your time."
Conner sighed, his eyes closing in desperation. "Aw, dude, I can't miss practice!"
"And I can't let you go. My hands are tied." He led them back to his classroom.
"You know, for a second there, I almost thought you were doing us a favor," said Ethan.
Conner glared at the geek. "I was doing myself a favor. I don't care what happens to you two, but I need to go to practice."
"Yeah," snorted Kira, "like they're really going to kick their wonder boy off the team." Conner fixed his angry look on her then, but she bit back with one of her own. "I've got stuff I have to do, too, you know."
"What, sit in your dark room and whine about how life sucks?"
"The only one who sucks here is you," stepped in Ethan.
Kira glowered at him. "I don't need you to defend me, thanks."
It didn't take a rocket scientist to pick up on the high tension between the trio, and Mr. Reed suggested that they all take seats at separate tables. He wished he hadn't stayed those few extra minutes to straighten his desk, he thought, staring at the organized surface now that he was stuck behind it once again. He had a feeling he was going to be in for a long week.
Tommy ducked another flying punch and swung around to kick his attacker squarely in the chest. With a firm backhand to the face of the one behind him, all of his adversaries were at last on the ground. He had a feeling it wouldn't last. It never did. Either they would get recalled, or they would multiply and he would have to—he couldn't morph anymore. Hadn't been able to for years. Right.
But when they got up, they apparently decided it was no longer fun fighting Tommy Oliver, and they scrambled off, babbling away, leaving the confused paleontologist to stare after them, before slowly stooping to gather up his scattered papers. Weird first day back.
Mesogog's loyal follower Elsa came to the front of the school, to see a crowd of about a dozen creatures, moving in formation like a flock of birds. More like a flock of dodos. They didn't seem bright, but when they spotted her, they moved immediately to stand in front of her and yip as they waited patiently. Elsa didn't understand the sudden subservience by these weird creatures, but she didn't much care. She summoned an invisoportal and took all of them back to the lair.
Tommy would've run to Randall's office, but his hip was smarting from a sharp land on his open briefcase during the battle. It annoyed him to no end—he wasn't that old, and the tiny limp, though it would be fine in a few moments, was embarrassing.
Not that it really much mattered. When he got to the principal's office, there was no one there. No Randall, no kids. Tentatively, he knocked on the door, checking his watch on his other hand as he did so. He was only a little bit late. Silence.
He called out her name once, and when that still got no response, Tommy decided that he'd just earned the afternoon back from her clutches. He could head to the museum now.
The sleeve of his lab coat flapped in the frenetic wind generated by the open Jeep speeding madcap down the back road to the museum. His spiky hair didn't rustle once in the breeze, but he was relaxed behind the wheel of a fast car, and he forgot all about the battle.
Derrick hadn't been able to round up anyone to go with him to Heidi's Space after school. Largely in part because he was proposing skipping practice, and largely in part because he wasn't bringing Conner with him. Everybody loved Conner. And Conner loved absolutely no one but himself. For whatever reason, that just made them all love him more. Sometimes Derrick hated Conner.
He found the place, it was actually called Hayley's Cyberspace. Whatever, close enough. The title should have tipped him off, but when Derrick stepped in, the place was filled with computers and people using them. Fantastic. A geek bar? His reputation would have been trashed if not for the fact that all of his friends were back at the school, practicing.
Derrick went over and sat at the bar. The woman behind it couldn't have been that much older than him, and she fixed him with a tired but kind smile. "Hey. What can I get you?"
He studied the menu, and not finding anything that made him jump to taste it, he shrugged. "Dunno, what's popular?"
She contemplated this. "Well, I've been getting a lot of requests for my newest creation. It's got pineapple and kiwi. You interested?"
"Sure."
"Coming right up." She turned her back to him, and provided him with a tall glass moments later.
He blinked. "That was fast."
"Slow day. You're on the Reefside High soccer team, right?"
Derrick stared at the redhead; there was no possible way she could have known that. "Yeah. How did you—?"
"You're wearing your jersey," she said, pointing.
"Oh," he said with a sheepish smile. He took a long swig of his drink. It was tangy. But not bad. He told her as much.
"Great. Tell your friends. I could use the business."
"No offense or anything, but my friends wouldn't be caught dead in a geek bar like this."
"You so sure about that?" she asked with a smirk, pointing behind him. He turned to look at the door, where Cassidy Cornell had just walked in with her sidekick Devin. "She's a cheerleader," the woman added for emphasis.
He thought that her tone should annoy him, but oddly enough, it didn't. He just rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his drink, as Hayley dealt with a small slew of customers to Derrick's right. The tang wasn't as noticeable as before, he thought after a sip, and the taste was really growing on him.
"Hey, Hayley, could I get a Kiwi-Pineapple Cocktail and a Strawberry Classic?" came a voice over Derrick's shoulder.
"Sure thing, Devin," said the woman, and Derrick realized that this was Hayley, the owner of the place. He couldn't believe he hadn't realized it before.
The small crowd of customers next to Derrick disappeared with their drinks to one of the alcoves. The person behind Derrick moved into the newly vacated space, and smiled at the soccer player. "Hey, Derrick."
Derrick nodded his head briefly in greeting. "Hey, Devin. What's up?" He didn't particularly care what was up, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do than talk with the geek at the moment.
"Cass is researching the new science teacher," said Devin with a shrug. "She thinks there's something weird about him."
"Yeah, there's something weird," laughed Derrick. "He's a teacher."
Devin grinned at him, opening his mouth to say something else, but Hayley had returned bearing two glasses. One was filled with the same mottled yellow-green color as Derrick's own glass, the other was bright pink. Devin plunked straws in both of them before taking a liberal sip of the pink one. "Great as always, Hayley," he praised, handing over the wad of bills.
He started to walk away as she fiddled with the register. "Hey, Devin, you want your change?" she called after him.
He waved one of his drinks at her. "No, put it in the tip jar."
"I don't have a tip jar."
"Start one," he said, sitting down across from Cassidy.
Hayley stared over at the mismatched couple for a long moment, wearing a thoughtful expression.
Devin, however, didn't notice the attention of the Cyberspace proprietor. He was too busy trying to calm a frazzled Cassidy down. He'd been unable to dissuade her that morning from going through with her fact-finding mission, and as he'd predicted, they'd walked away with nothing. The young reporter was on the verge of hysteria, ranting and raving against the Reefside High administrative staff and their incompetence.
"I'm telling you, there's something weird about Dr. Oliver," she began again. "I mean seriously, I called Angel Grove High, and they wouldn't tell me anything. It's like his private records are some big secret."
"Yeah," said Devin, "I kinda thought that was why they called them 'private' records. I mean, if they were public records..."
Cassidy glared at him, huffing and taking a liberal slurp of her drink. "It's tangy," she observed with slight distaste, staring at the off color for a moment. She shrugged slightly. "But not bad." She took another drink.
Devin settled back in his seat. She was going to let it go, changing the subject abruptly so as not to look foolish because Devin was right and she was wrong. It was standard Cassidy behavior, refusing to be upstaged by her dopey assistant. But he didn't mind. At this point, he was long used to it.
While she had dropped the subject, however, he knew she was still going to fume about it for a few minutes still, which gave him time to look over the Cyberspace. He'd only taken Cassidy here twice since discovering this place shortly after it'd opened. She tolerated it, because the drinks were really good, even if the usual crowd was too unpopular for her liking. Devin, however, loved it. The owner, Hayley, was really nice, and the computers were much faster than his junky old box at home. He enjoyed coming here, and would spend the time watching the eclecticism of its patrons.
Like Derrick Cole, for example. The most high up on the high school hierarchy that this establishment had ever witnessed. He was Conner McKnight's right-hand man, everyone knew, and Conner was the king of Reefside High. What he was doing here this afternoon was beyond Devin, because for starters, he should have been at soccer practice. And secondly, he was way too 'cool' for the likes of this place. Devin was bemused as to Derrick's presence, and further by the rare smile that he witnessed the stopper shooting Hayley. What Devin knew about Derrick —and Devin had spent enough time hanging out on the outskirts of Cassidy's social circle to study people like Conner and Derrick— he knew that Derrick was only nice to people if he was going to get something out of it. Maybe he was trying to finagle a free drink out of Hayley? Not that she'd ever go for that. She was sweet, but she was tough, particularly when it came to her struggling business.
No matter. Derrick had gotten bored, and was now vacating the premise, practically knocking over Krista Stewart as she came in the double doors. Now here was someone a little closer to the target Hayley's patrons. Devin wondered what Krista had in mind coming here now, but before he could really dwell on that, Cassidy was demanding his attention once again.
"I've got a new scoop," she said. "I heard that Randall gave Conner McKnight detention. That woman is absolutely crazy, Devin. We have to find out where, when, and why. And also we need to find out if she's unstable. I heard she worked in a prison. I also heard that she escaped from a prison. We need to find out everything."
Devin drained the last of his smoothie. He had a feeling he was going to need a few more that afternoon.
Conner was tapping his pencil on the tabletop. He had little sense of rhythm, and the erratic tempo was slowly causing Kira to go crazy. He didn't even have a notebook or anything—he was just drumming the pencil while he stared out the window.
Sure, it was the first day, and none of them had homework, but both she and Ethan were attempting to actually make use of their time. Kira was working on a song in her notebook, and Ethan was hunched over his keyboard.
"You better not be doing something that's gonna get us another week of detention," Conner remarked to Ethan, surprisingly reading Kira's thoughts on the subject.
Ethan's eyes narrowed at the tall boy. "What I'm doing isn't any of your business."
"Probably playing some lame game," said the soccer star offhandedly, returning his gaze to the green grass past the window.
"You'd know all about lame games to play, wouldn't you?" said Ethan, unable to resist.
Conner's grip tightened on the pencil. "What was that?"
"You heard me." There was a slight pause, and Kira and Mr. Reed, watching the exchange, thought the moment might pass. But Ethan continued fearlessly, "You know, you think you're all that, but all you really do is kick a little ball around. Big deal."
Conner laughed, but it was without mirth, and was accompanied by a warning expression. "You so don't want to go there, dude."
"All I'm saying is that it doesn't take much brains."
The pencil tip broke as Conner's clenched fist slammed down on his desk. "So maybe I'm not Mensa material. At least I've got friends."
"I have friends!" Ethan interjected, looking offended. "Who do you think I am, Kira?"
"Hey!" said Kira. They both glanced over at her. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It just means that you're always alone," said Ethan, looking for all the world like he wished he could take back the last ten seconds. "But I guess that's artist temperament..."
His attempt to get out of the hole he'd dug himself had the reverse effect. Kira's eyes flared to life. "Excuse me if I don't surround myself with boring losers or halfwit jocks!" she snapped.
"Who are you calling boring?" demanded Ethan at the same time as Conner cried, "Who are you calling halfwit?"
At his desk, Mr. Reed popped an aspirin.
Krista was trying not to let Derrick's rude comment after nearly plowing her over ruin her day. Derrick was a huge jerk with a huge ego and nothing to support it.
"Hi, what can I get you?" the woman behind the counter asked of Krista.
Krista sighed once to calm herself, and smiled at the pretty redhead. "Do you have anything soy-based?"
"Sure do," said Hayley. "Just about everything on the menu is all natural, but there are some products for the more health-conscious among us. I'd recommend the Mint Iced Tea, myself. Personal favorite."
"Sure, that sounds good," said Krista with a firm nod and smile. "Thank you."
The woman returned moments later with a tall, frosty glass, which Krista accepted. The bartender nodded down at the stack of day-glow yellow fliers sitting in front of Krista on the countertop. "What're those?"
"The Reefside Horticulture Society is having a fundraiser this weekend, a bake sale for Rivers Park, to plant trees behind home plate of the new baseball diamond."
The woman sighed. "You know, Rivers Park already has a perfectly fine diamond on the north side. They don't need a second, especially considering that Otsinengo Park already has one, and Sawyer's Field has two. I'd heard that the Society was going in a bidding war for the spot, I'm sorry to hear that they lost. If you'd like, I can hand these fliers out to my customers." She held out her hand.
Krista couldn't keep the beaming smile from her face as she passed over the stack. "Thank you so much! I try so hard to get the word out about our various causes, but so few people ever listen...the planet is going to fall all to pieces one of these days, and they'll have no one to blame but themselves..."
The woman nodded, turning to immediately tack up a poster next to the menu. Krista used this moment to gaze around, spotting Devin Del Valle slurping on his straw. He looked up when he felt his eyes on her, and waved slightly. Krista, half-smiling, waved back. She knew Devin, he'd been present at the rally over the summer to raise money for fixing the roof of the greenhouse. He was a nice guy.
Krista's gaze trailed over the Cyberspace some more, before landing on the shelves of rich baked goods behind glass. Promoting the event wasn't going to be enough, she realized. She had to actually bake something. "Thanks for all your help," she added to the woman, finishing off the last of her drink, and rising to her feet.
"Off so soon?" the woman asked with a smile.
Krista shrugged. "I've got a world to save."
Pulling up, Tommy noticed a large chain with a lock and a sign dangling off of it blocking the walkway up to the museum doors. He parked the car, climbed out, and went over. It was a 'closed' sign. "That's weird," he muttered, because it definitely wasn't supposed to be closed.
He climbed over the chain and headed up to the doors. Maybe there would be someone working inside that he could talk to. He glanced up at the giant, mottled-yellow T-Rex model glaring over the area. It was more than a little freaky, but whatever lured in visitors, he supposed.
There was another sign on the front entrance. "'In case of emergency, call Anton Mercer Industries'?" he read, but he must have read it wrong. "Anton Mercer...that's impossible." Anton Mercer was dead. The entire private island that their experiments had been on had been utterly decimated, and Tommy had only barely gotten out alive. They had been unable to find Anton's body, but there had been a wake and everything. Tommy had attended. AMI had been shut down for the time being, because Anton hadn't left the company to anyone, and they hadn't been sure what to do with it.
Tommy reached for his cell phone to call his partner in crime. If anyone was going to know about this, it would be Hayley. Hayley knew everything about everyone. But when he put his hand in his pocket, it came out empty. That's right, the phone was in the car. No matter, it didn't look like anyone was here to let him in, anyway. He turned around, about to head back, when he noticed something.
Or rather, a decided lack of something. The T-Rex had been so huge that is was a glaring absence when it was no longer there. "Where did..?" Tommy wondered, but the question answered itself when the enormous yellow head lifted over a corner of the building and peered down menacingly at him. This was not good.
The T-Rex snarled, huffing as it leaned close to him, and Tommy's clothes flapped in the wind of the beast's rancid breath. Definitely not good.
"Would you stop that already?" demanded Conner irritably.
"Stop what?" said Kira, her voice equally snappy.
"Humming. You're driving me crazy."
"Short drive."
"Funny."
"Would the both of you shut up?" said Ethan, in the middle. "I'm trying to concentrate here."
Conner and Kira both opened their mouths to retort, but Mr. Reed couldn't take it anymore. "Guys, I think Principal Randall is gone for the day. And I know we have a half-hour left, but I'm sending you home early, okay?"
The three teens erupted in a chorus or relieved, grateful chatter. They gathered up their stuff noisily, and Ethan paused with his hand on the door to the room. "See you all tomorrow," he said perkily, flashing them an annoyingly cheerful smile. He waved, and Conner sneered at him. Kira breezed past them both with an irritated, "Whatever."
Four more days of this? Mr. Reed had vague notions of retirement.
Tommy knew it was stupid the second he was in the air. Which was why he promptly took off running after kicking a T-Rex in the face. How many times had those pseudo-Putties knocked him in the head, anyway?
The T-Rex was taken by surprise, whether from Tommy's kick or his sudden retreat, it was hard to say. Not that it really mattered. It was only moments before it was after him, and Tommy all but dove into his Jeep. He maintained his vehicle meticulously, and could only pray that his slavish devotion would pay off in the end. Because he really needed this car to work. He shut the door, and hit the lock.
"Great, yeah, lock the door, Tommy. Real good," he chastised himself. It was an open vehicle. And even if it wasn't, was the king of the dinosaurs really just going to turn and walk away because the flimsy lock stopped him?
His keys were knotted all together, and he fumbled with them a moment before finding the right one, jamming it in the ignition, and turning. The engine whined, but didn't start. Eyes on the beast, Tommy's cry of, "C'mon!" was both a plead and a demand, and miraculously, the engine roared to life. Tommy snapped on his seatbelt, and threw the car into reverse, squealing just out of the path of the dinosaur's snapping jaws.
When he was just enough out of reach, he pulled a K-turn with a screech of tires, then pumped the gas pedal for all it was worth and tore out of there.
The T-Rex was no longer hesitant. In fact, it seemed eager for a chase, because the second the speedometer started streaking wildly higher, the dinosaur was crouched into a run, roaring and biting at the air as it chased him. Tommy never regretted giving up his racing career to go into science, because he really loved his work, but he was particularly thrilled at that moment that he'd ever had a racing career to drop out of. He was doing his best, but every time he glanced over his shoulder, the T-Rex was closer than before. He jolted uncomfortably as the dinosaur's head slammed against the spare tire on the back of the Jeep, and the vehicle swerved into the other lane.
Tommy cursed under his breath, getting control of the car again, and spotted the overpass just ahead. The idea was already forming in his mind, but it seemed too easy, too out of a movie. Still, it was the only shot he had. He punched it, dashing under the overpass, just mere feet ahead of his chaser.
With the loudest thuds Tommy had ever heard, the T-Rex's head smashed into the overpass, and the beast hit the ground, taking out a large chunk of concrete with it. Tommy stopped the car on the empty road. The T-Rex seemed to be out cold, and stupid as his notion was, he had to go and investigate. He undid his seatbelt, jumping out of the Jeep, and went over to check it out.
There was sparking. And a little green glow. This wasn't normal. He bent down to see it closer. The beast was dead, as it should have been, thousands of years ago. Furthermore, it wasn't real—it was a robot.
Tommy looked back in the direction of the museum it had come from. Something was not right. Something was very, very wrong.
He went over to the Jeep and got the phone out of his glove compartment. She was the first number on his speed-dial. "Hayley? I think it's time."