Disclaimer: The Power Rangers and all associated characters belong to Disney. No infringement is intended.

Author's Note and Setting: This piece takes place immediately before the opening scene of "Dark Specter's Revenge, Part I." Not a whole lot of Astronema/Zhane here, but I thought this was an important step in Astronema's character development, and worth exploring in the context of this series. And incidentally, I wrote this fic while watching "Mulan" on Toon Disney; inspired by the song "Reflection."

Written October 2006.

Reaching Out

Mirror

She felt naked.

That was the best way to explain the feeling, even though the soft cotton flight suit covered her from neck to toes.

Still, she felt exposed. She didn't like the feeling.

"You aren't me," she told her reflection. "Are you?"

The eyes in the mirror reflected her apprehension, and while the cool shade of blue was at least familiar, they looked strangely warm when they weren't set off by bold black liner and thick streaks of silver and violet shadow. The eyes in the mirror could never intimidate anyone. She could just imagine Darkonda's laughter if she looked at him with such warm, timid eyes.

But at least she recognized the eyes. The rest of the reflection; there was no hint of the face she was used to seeing.

Short, straight blonde hair brushed against her jaw, simple and plain. Darker than the blondes she'd experimented with recently, and the strands seemed to vary, one from the other. Some strands were nearly brown, others were strikingly pale. The various shades together merged into a dull blonde.

Isn't human hair supposed to be uniform? She wondered, twisting a lock curiously. It was as if her hair couldn't decide what color it wanted to be. At least when she styled it with her power, she selected one lustrous color, or perhaps one color with accents. The result was always perfect, immaculate.

Now, her hair was limp, sloppy… flawed.

Frowning, she slipped a pin into the stubborn forelocks that simply refused to stay out of her eyes. And by doing so, she unveiled all the flaws of her face.

She almost pulled the pin out.

Small brown flecks of pigment spotted her nose and dusted her cheeks. Her skin was remarkably pale; almost sickly, when it wasn't covered in a smooth, uniform mask. And her lips seemed strangely thin and frail, when compared to the full garnet-tinted mouth she was so used to sneering with. Any sneer with these pale lips would be a mockery.

She felt exposed. Vulnerable.

She never spent much time looking at her true face before, because it didn't matter before. She was Astronema, Princess of Evil, one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. She looked as she chose to look, with her appearance sending a message of her mood. Her battle armor emphasized destructive intent. Her sculpted hair and carefully painted features underscored her cunning, her power. No flaws. She was perfect; invincible.

What story did this face tell?

In her reflection, she saw weakness. Imperfection. Confusion.

She no longer stood out. She blended in with all the other powerless humans. Which was fitting, because she was human.

She was not Astronema. Not any longer.

"You are Karone," she told her reflection. "I am Karone."

The name sounded odd in her ears. She was no longer Astronema. When she rescued the Power Rangers on Yotoba she surrendered that illustrious name, and everything that came with it. She was no longer a princess. She was no longer evil.

But, what was she? Was she weak? Imperfect? Confused?

"Yes. Yes. And yes." She stated aloud.

But, in truth, she had been confused before, as well. Confused by her feelings, which often seemed to be at odds with what she'd been taught. She was too sentimental, respecting Ecliptor as she would a parent, rather than treating him with the proper disdain due her subordinate. The only person she should have respected was Dark Specter, and that was respect earned through fear. Not appreciation. Not… affection. In truth, her feelings for Ecliptor far surpassed anything she felt for her monarch.

She had been confused by her attachment to her mysterious past as well, clinging to a locket with photographs of complete strangers. It was only a small trinket, honestly worthless, and she should have destroyed it. That trinket symbolized her weakness, but she could never bring herself to remove it.

And strangest of all, she had been thoroughly confused by her feelings for one Silver Ranger. Her behavior that day was inexcusable, almost treasonous. She spared a Power Ranger's life, twice. She yearned for his attention, his approval…

What kind of evil princess cared one whit about what a Power Ranger felt?

And she had cared. Deeply. Astronema would never acknowledge that, but Karone… Karone could face the truth with eyes wide open. Karone recognized the attraction for what it was, accepting the longing in her heart.

And now, she acknowledged that she still longed for his attention, for his approval.

What would he think of her? What would he see in her too-warm eyes? In her boring, flat hair? In her freckled face? In her thin mouth?

Would he even notice her?

She thought back on that strange day, when she approached him as herself. At the time, she had decided she wanted to blend in with the other humans at the theater, so she could observe him without drawing attention.

But was that the truth? Or was Astronema lying to herself again, trying to explain away the confusion rather than face it?

Did she merely want to blend in? Or, did she want Zhane to see her true self?

Whatever her true intentions, Zhane did see her.

He wasn't repulsed by her imperfect skin or limp hair. His reaction was strange, as he searched her eyes as if he actually knew who stood before him, in the most natural of disguises. She couldn't tell if he actually figured out the truth, but nevertheless, he had noticed her. He stared into her too-warm eyes, and held her ungloved hand.

On impulse, she spoke his name aloud for the first time. "Zhane…"

A small smile bloomed on her too-thin lips.

"Karone?" Andros' voice was accompanied with a knock. Biting her lip, she looked at "Karone" in the mirror one more time.

She was exposed. She could not hide herself; her affections, her insecurities, behind the mask of makeup and flowing, perfect hair. She could no longer disguise her vulnerability, her humanity, with leather, plated armor, and a deadly weapon.

She could no longer hide from herself, either.

Karone rose from her seat and opened the door. "I'm ready, Andros."

He stood stunned for a moment, focusing on her eyes, her hair, her face. His hand lifted slowly, gently touching her cheek as if she were a dream; as if he were making sure she was really standing in front of him.

She looked away nervously, staring down at her interlaced fingers. "Well… what do you think?"

Suddenly, he wrapped her in a hug so tight it felt like he was trying to make up for all the years she'd lived without one.

When he stepped back, his face glowed with such a bright smile, she almost couldn't draw the connection between the brother standing before her, and the somber Red Ranger she had battled for months.

"You... look so much like... Mom," he murmured, almost reverently. "You're beautiful."