Author's Notes: A transitional quickie…

Rated 'M' for violence, language, sexual content, and a plethora of offensive material including but not limited to drug use and underage drinking.

Disclaimer: The turtles hope and pray every night that I never get my hands on them…so quite obviously, I don't own them. I make no profit other than people online sending me kind reviews and people in real life sending me comments like, "Nerd" and "Dork."

Equilibrium

-Enter: Morgrag-

The Mozeka radiated with multi-colored energy forming a visible aura around the object. When it shot outward in every direction, Donatello could only close his eyes and wait for the explosions. They were, after all, in Donatello's lab: technical equipment everywhere.

Moments passed and the room was filled with a powerful buzzing that bypassed the ears and drilled straight to the brain. But no explosions. Relieved yet afraid at the same time, Donatello ventured to open his eyes. The sight that met him did little to relieve his conflicting emotions.

The visible energy still pulsed a good three feet out, but it seemed to have stopped in its tracks. Its radius overlapped his body, though he felt no abnormal sensations. Their theory was right about the surge not effecting organic substances. At some point, Kai had managed to raise her hands as if to block herself, though her eyes remained screwed tightly shut. If they were open, she would have seen that the artifact's aura had stopped about half an inch from her palms.

"Kai...?"

The energy was by no means stationary. It had ceased its path of radiation, but the colors continued to swim within the moderate spherical aura. The brunette gave no response, so he repeated in a firmer tone, "Kai."

She reluctantly opened her eyes and the color drained form her face. She looked over at the turtle with an expression that wasn't difficult to read: fear.

Donatello kept his calm. The fact that she had somehow stopped it was a good thing. At this point, she only held the lives of thousands if not more in her hands. Or rather, half an inch from them.

Yeah, he could understand her fear.

"Kai, are you with me? What ever you do, don't let it go…"

So he couldn't think of any better advice than that; he had to say something, right? He was wondering if that had been a good idea as her breathing became ore rapid.

"Is it hurting you?"

She wasn't responding and he hated not knowing what to do. It always seemed to fall on him to find an answer. Sure, Leo usually came up with the plan of execution, but who did everyone turn to when they didn't know what was going on? Who was expected to have all of the answers? Here he was, alone with the only person who seemed to have some kind of leverage over the problem, and she wasn't fairing too well.

Her breathing was shallow and rapid; her face, pale and clammy. Keeping her hands in place, she attempted to double up as much as the position would allow. He recognized the signs.

"Are you prone to panic attacks?"

At this, he received a nod. Shit. The last thing they needed was for her to lose it now. He had to talk her through it, help her get control. He often played mediator for his family when Mike was either MIA or one of the combatants. Sibling rivalry to an electromagnetic time bomb: if he could nullify one, surely he could de-escalate the other. No biggie.

He resisted the urge to wipe his brow for the risk of appearing nervous. He did, however, wet the lips of his beak before speaking. "It's okay. You have it under control. Just breathe, deep breaths now."

He was mildly surprised when she listened, trying to take control of her inhales. Her exhales were still sharp, but one step at a time would have to do.

"Sit up. Inhale for three seconds, then exhale for three. That's right. Good job."

It didn't take long for Don's coaching to get the young woman under control. Now was the hard part. The light swirled like clouds in an angry storm and he wondered briefly if she could feel it. "Try pushing it back into the artifact."

Her brow knitted together and she replied, "Not doable."

"Why not?"

He then considered the fact that it may be a bad idea to divert her attention to conversation. Before he could tell her this, she struggled for an explanation. "Exponential energy…still pushing…still active. Like two positive magnets…positive is still pouring out…can't shove positive at positive…won't take."

He considered her words and came to a conclusion. "Once it's finished expelling the energy, it may revert back to neutral. Or better yet, it may do a reversal to become negative in order to recollect the energy. Do you have any idea how long this could take?"

She cast him an utterly exasperated look. "This part was never in my vision. Sorry."

"It's okay. Not your fault."

Her arms shaking from the strain, she shot him another look: this one, a blend of exasperation and disbelief that her sarcasm had been missed. She was about to make another comment, but something changed in the frequency. Like a sudden change of tide, the force that was shoving against her moments ago, turned to pull inward. Getting caught in the figurative rip current, she panicked and released her hold on the aura.

It was as if someone had simply pushed rewind –just as quickly as it had shot outward, the colors pulled back to gleam across the surface one final time. The gems sparkled their goodbye, then all signs of light disappeared leaving the artifact looking to all the world like an innocent decoration.

The turtle heaved a dramatic sigh then commented, "I still don't think we actually neutralized it."

The brunette slumped back into the chair and settled on glaring at the disappointed reptile.

The door to the lab was flung open and Raphael burst in. "Don, you okay?"

The techno-turtle gave his brother a quizzical look. Despite the drama that had just occurred, there were no sounds or signs of a struggle. How did Raph even know that there was a problem?

The answer came flying in on a circular metal disk complete with two thin, robotic arms. The device was familiar, as well as the pink alien operating it. So the Utrom himself wasn't someone they knew, but there was no mistaking the race.

Kai's body went still and her eyes grew round in shock at the newcomer.

Michaelangelo brought up the rear. Noticing the young woman's expression, he chuckled. "Four teenage mutant ninja turtles: One million dollars. Sneaky black thieves outfit needed to steal a deadly magical artifact: Forty dollars. Having to change your underwear because of a pink floating brain: Priceless."

She collected herself to look almost embarrassed. Raph shook his head and said, "You watch way too much TV, Mikey." He then turned to the other two. "Guys, this is Morgrag. We found him by the docks."

The turtle in purple cleared his throat and offered their newest human friend an explanation. "He's an Utrom. I believe I mentioned a race who successfully developed a transmat device…well, those are his people."

The disk tilted up just slightly, mimicking a bow. Morgrag didn't waste any time getting to the questions. "I sensed a surge of energy and insisted to your brothers that we hurry. How did you manage to nullify a Mozeka?"

Don nodded toward Kai. "That would have been her. She- wait…you know about the Mozeka?"

The Utrom moved closer to the artifact and reached out with a tentacle. After a moment, a familiar symbol began to glow on the she-jaguar's forehead: the same symbol that the guardians wore on their pendants. The light faded and the alien moved back a couple of feet, addressing the room. "It has been deactivated." Considering Donatello's question, he tried to explain, "I assume you're familiar with the sword of Tengu."

Everyone but Kai nodded, so he continued. "That was not the only Utrom-influenced artifact brought on by the crew's presence on this planet. Don't forget, they were stranded here for nearly a thousand of your years. Though they tried to limit their human interactions, it was rather unavoidable. Ch'rell hunted them, so for centuries they would constantly relocate to different areas of the globe."

He paused to make sure that everyone was still with him; indeed, they were hanging on to his every word waiting for the exposition to reach a point of relevance.

"Take South America, for example. Humans lived in harsh surroundings with little to no technological advancements. The Utroms agreed, with Mortu's permission, to aid these people as discretely as possible. The human mind has quite the imagination, as it tends to fabricate stories and myths of gods, deities, and other explanations for things that they do not understand."

During the pause, Donatello commented. "That would explain how primitive people throughout the ages have come to accomplish baffling things, even by today's standards."

Morgrag appeared to nod, despite being without a neck. It seemed as if he wasn't finished. "Of course, any interference with another culture –regardless of good intentions- has the potential to cause harm as time goes by. It was about eight hundred years ago, the Mayan period, that our stranded comrades realized this. After much deliberation, they decided to implement a genetic fail-safe."

The mechanical arms would gesture, aiding to his articulation. "They spent much time and effort spiritually tweaking a willing, chosen human's more dormant senses. With heightened sensitivity to the energies, this human could locate, decipher, and utilize many of the items that were gifted with our unique frequencies. They called this person a 'Kaidar,' which roughly translates to 'keeper of that which is hidden.' In order to ensure that protection would be sustained even in the Utrom's absence, this human was able to pass the sensitivity to future generations. Observation concluded that this trait often skipped a generation and favored the X chromosome."

The brunette let the information settle in her mind. Her voice was soft and thoughtful, "My grandmother was an accurate fortune-teller. And her grandmother was a Shaman…"

Morgrag supplied, "And both were most likely incarnations of the Kaidar."

She slowly reached for the pen on Donatello's workbench. Finding some jargon-filled notes, she flipped the paper over and wrote down an address. Her expression passive, she stood and said, "This is where I'm staying."

Stepping away from the chair, she faced the rest of the room. Three five foot –she amended herself: five foot two –turtles and a small pink blob looked at her expectantly.

"It was a pleasure meeting all of you, but I think I've had enough excitement for one night."

She walked to the door, then turned around to find everyone still staring at her. "Really, it has been fun. Keep in touch, okay?"

Receiving a nod or two, she continued out of the lab and out of the lair.

"I hope that I didn't upset her."

Mike smiled reassuringly at the Utrom. "Nah, don't worry about it Morgy. Probably just more than she's use to. Let's go out to the den- better seating."

They paraded into the other, larger room and found Splinter sitting motionless in his recliner. Knowing the ninja master, he was no doubt fully aware of what was going on. The turtles made themselves comfortable. Don and Mike were on the couch with Raph pacing behind it, and the Utrom had settled on the low hardwood table. They seemed to be waiting for Leo, whether it was subconscious or not. Splinter took the opportunity to reflect on the changes and adjustments that the family structure had endured over the year.

For their entire life, he had been training them to work together as a team. The master was exactly that: the teacher, the instructor, the leader –guiding his sons in all that they did. When they first became involved with the surface world, he played a vital role in their guidance. When the mousers had attacked, bringing chaos to an otherwise peaceful existence, they looked to their sensei to keep the family together. It was he who relocated the family. When the foot attacked Miss O'Niel's apartment, they looked to their master for guidance; he knew his son's strengths and weaknesses. When they sought revenge on the Shredder three months later, it was he who took charge. And it was Leonardo who stepped up.

"I'll lead this one, Sensei."

It was a proud moment for the old rat to see his eldest lead the family and defeat the Shredder. Even if that defeat was only temporary, the shift of responsibility was not. None of his sons knew of the guilt he harbored for placing such a burden on any of them, but it was something that had to be done. Splinter had been gradually weaning himself from his sons' more active involvements. The aged rat understood his mortality and realized that the four needed to be self-sustaining. They were quickly finding their own lives, and he would be there for them for as long as his own life would allow.

The master's reflections were interrupted by Donatello addressing the newcomer. "Somehow, I have a feeling that you didn't travel light-years to give a brief lesson in history."

The alien again seemed to nod. "You are right, Donatello; however, I believe that an explanation should wait until your fifth is here…"

By a stroke of timing, Leo chose that moment to walk in the door. Raphael looked up with an immediate expression of utter relief. It was soon covered by one of agitation. "Where the shell have you been?! You're the one who imposed this house arrest, and now you're the hypocrite that-"

Leo held up his hands as a sign for the hotheaded turtle to stop. Shaking his head, Leo interjected, "There are more important matters to discuss right now…"

At that moment, his attention turned to the table where an Utrom sat watching the exchange. Taking his cue, the alien introduced himself. "Greetings. I am Morgrag. And you're right: there are more important matters to discuss. Grave maters. Ch'rell, or as you know him, the Shredder is returning to your planet."

Everyone but Leo wore a shocked expression. Mike commented, "But you guys banished him to some meteor belt or something, right?"

Morgrag elaborated, "Yes, we did. I was on a routine patrol of the Sh'zarr quadrant when I noticed a distinct absence of life anywhere near the ice world. The tyrant's death would need to be confirmed and reported, so I executed an extensive scan. He was not there, dead or alive. The scanners did pick up a combustible fuel trail leading away from that particular orbit. It would seem to me that an ally of some kind rescued Ch'rell and according to the path's trajectory, they are heading straight for this planet."

The turtles and their master seemed to digest the information and the Utrom continued. "I reported to our home world immediately. Because there is no substantial proof that Ch'rell is even alive, let alone on that starship, the council refuses to get involved. Never the less, I was informed of Utrom allies on this world that aided in the capture of Ch'rell in the first place. I was encouraged to locate you and give warning of the possible danger."

Splinter was the first to respond. "We thank you, Morgrag. If the Shredder is indeed returning, we will not be taken off-guard."

Leonardo spoke aloud, though the statement was directed at no one in particular. "Then Karai was telling the truth."

If the room's occupants were shocked by the news of the Shredder's possible return, then they were certainly unprepared for what was next: "Karai has offered us an alliance, and I told her that we would consider it."

The room burst into sound as everyone responded at once.

"Are ya crazy, Leo?"

"Are you out of your gourd, bro?"

"Is this Karai not Ch'rell's right hand?"

"Maybe we should think this through, Leo."

Leonardo's voice rose above the others as he demanded to be heard out. "Karai told me of the Shredder's return. She's agreed to withdraw the hit she has on us in return that we at least consider the possibilities…"

Morgrag didn't hear any more; he didn't need to. During the commotion, he made his way to the lair's entrance. Looking back, he saw the turtle in red waving his fist in their leader's face as the other two tried to talk at the same time. Their master looked on in a mix of horror and confusion. Noticing the absence of their guest, he glanced toward the door with an inquiring look. The Utrom had vanished.

Morgrag navigated the tunnels, searching for the familiar exit point that they had entered from. What were they thinking? If they were considering an alliance with Ch'rell and his underlings, then they were not going to be any good against the Utrom's most hated enemy.

He emerged from a pipeline that ran out to the river; he wasn't far from his fallen pod. With a mechanical arm, he pressed a button on his disk and waited for the communicator to transmit. It picked up a signal and the familiar voice of one of his superiors came through.

"Report."

Morgrag spoke with as much professional detachment that he could muster. "Sir, I found the ones that you sent me to locate. They have been warned of Ch'rell's return."

He didn't even bother with the technicality of whether or not it was proven –Morgrag was certain that it was more than a possibility at this point. His voice turned grave as he continued his report. "I think that our trust has been misplaced. These turtles are in fact in an alliance with Ch'rell's right hand-"

A shuriken embedded itself into the metal, causing a small explosion. The Utrom fell out of the disk as it crashed to the ground three feet away. A bone-chillingly canned voice growled, "Thank you for that bit of information."

Morgrag looked up in horror as a bladed gauntlet came down in one fatal swipe.

It was good to be back.

X

On the Utrom's home world, captain Quinzarr stared at the communication console as the frequency died, the cryptic message replaying in his mind.

Our trust has been misplaced. These turtles are in fact in an alliance with Ch'rell-

The lack of a signal could only mean one thing: the transmitting device had been destroyed. He could only imagine that the worst had occurred.

They could no longer afford non-aggression with Ch'rell. He had to convince the council to take more drastic and permanent measures against the tyrant and those who take up with him.

Even if that included the turtles…