Completing the voyage to Phaedos would take four days. They were keeping to the route the merchant ship was set to follow until they neared the Hyperion Constellation. Then they would break off and make for the planet, hopefully doing so unnoticed by anyone.

T.J. understood the need for stealth, to take every precaution to avoid having their plan compromised, but mere hours into their trip the wait already felt interminable.

The frenzy of preparation and planning had concluded, and now there was nothing left to do. Nothing but wait . . . and think.

That was the problem, T.J. reflected, staring at the gray metal wall his bunk adjoined. When they were busy doing something they didn't have to remember the teammates they'd lost, the friends they would never see again. Nor did they have to consider what the terrible price of their failure on Morrigan might eventually be, or contemplate the fact that the coming trial had resulted in the deaths of all Ranger teams who had ever attempted it, with the exception of Billy's. It would have been better by far to be busy acting in the present and not have time to look to the past or the future.

"Hey, Justin!" T.J. called out to the bunk above him.

"Yeah?" the reply came back, the voice drained of its usual vitality and enthusiasm. T.J. winced to hear it. He'd considered more than once asking Billy to reprogram him with a way to control his emotions, to allow him to shut out the negative ones and only experience the positive ones, but he never had. The idea just seemed too artificial, too unnatural-and yes, he was well aware of the irony of an android thinking that! Nonetheless his mind and personality remained the image of what T.J. Johnson's had been when he sat down in the neural copier. That was the foundation of his self, and not something he could meddle with, not without losing his very identity.

At times like these, though, it seemed Carlos had gotten the better end of the deal.

Disconnecting the recharger wires from his wrist, he shut the panel, got out of his bunk, and stood to peer at the little android in the top bunk.

Justin was lying flat on his back, arms by his sides, staring up at the ceiling.

"You want to charge now?" he asked.

"No."

"What are you thinking about?"

Justin turned to him, his expression bleak and his eyes dry undoubtedly only because the Robot Rangers lacked the physical capacity to shed tears.

"I'm thinking about Cestro," he told the Red Ranger.

T.J. relflexively inhaled a breath he didn't need. Of course.

"Justin, you did everything you could for him."

"But I didn't save him!" the Blue Turbo Ranger protested, his voice fierce and angry. Unable to sit up do the low ceiling he rolled over to face T.J.

"You tried! That's all you can do. We can't save everyone."

"I know, I know we haven't been able to protect everyone, but he was a Ranger, he was one of us!" Justin protested, slamming a fist down onto the bunk and severely denting the metal underneath the foam mattress.

"He was my friend," Justin mumbled, as all the energy seemed to go out of him.

"He was mine too," T.J. confided, but he knew it had been different for Justin. When he and Cestro weren't in Billy's lab they'd often been sitting away in a corner, spouting out technobabble to each other that no one but Billy could comprehend. Thanks to his astonishing intellect, the original Justin had always found it difficult to make friends, and of course this one was no different. He and Cestro had simply clicked, and that had been a great thing for Justin.

He'd clicked with Billy too, but to T.J. that had always seemed more son/father than friendship.

"I wish he'd let us copy him! Why won't the Aquitan Rangers do that? We could keep them from ever dying if they'd let us!"

There were multiple reasons why the Aquitans refused to have their psyche copied and transferred into a robotic form; T.J. settled for reminding his teammate of the most important.

"Because it would be different for them than it was for us. Being alive without telepathy would be worse than being blind to an Aquitan. It would be torture."

Justin slumped back onto his back, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

"Do you want to recharge?" T.J. asked again.

Listlessly Justin held out his wrist, allowing T.J. to pop the panel and attach the wires.

T.J. searched for anything else he could say, any words of comfort he could offer, and found nothing. He settled back down onto his bunk and silence once more pervaded the cabin.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Once they reached the edge of Prince Gasket's solar system, Darkonda brought the ship to a halt. "How do we approach?" he asked slyly.

"Openly," Justin answered. Setting the communications to the frequency used by Prince Gasket's forces, he began transmitting.

"This is the Blue Pyscho Ranger. I come in peace as an ambassador, a personal emissary of Dark Specter, Emperor of Evil. I beg an audience with Prince Gasket, the undisputed ruler of this system, so that I might speak to him about a matter of great importance. I await your reply."

Shutting off the transmission, he confirmed through sensors that the outer picket ships had received his transmission. Several of them were moving toward their position now, backed up by a trio of Gear cruisers. If they opened hostilities this much firepower would annihilate Darkonda's vessel almost instantly.

The keen awareness of his own vulnerability was intolerable and Justin momentarily wished he had been allowed to come aboard the Envenomed Blade. Even that ship, however, wouldn't be able to stand up to the small fleet currently arraying itself against them. No, if Gasket wanted them to die, they would.

Their only hedges against that were the power of the UAE and the rationality of Gasket, both of which he actually had some degree of faith in. Even with their current naval problem, the United Alliance of Evil was still the most powerful force in the galaxy. The Prince had wisely done nothing to provoke the UAE in the years prior to this and, during the time of the Zeo Rangers, he had fled back to Horath once King Mondo returned rather than try to fight his father. Then, too, there was that incident he'd read about in the Ranger Archives, when Gasket had convinced an amnesiac Tommy that he was the ruler of the Machine Empire and Gasket was merely his advisor.

Taken together all of this seemed to indicate that Gasket wasn't a puffed-up, pride-filled despot or a rash ruler subject to an ungovernable lust for conquest. He was instead a level-headed realist, one not given to overestimating himself or underestimating his opponents. On the whole that made him extraordinarily dangerous, but in this specific situation those qualities would almost certainly keep him from destroying their ship.

That was Justin's hypothesis, anyway.

It was proven twenty-two minutes later, when central cruiser broadcast an acknowledgement and insistence that they would conduct the ambassador's ship to Horath, where Prince Gasket waited to receive him.

Sending his compliance, Justin leaned back in his seat. "Take us in," he directed Darkonda.

For once the alien complied without comment, their minnow of a vessel moving in concert with the triad of behemoths now positioned to their left, right, and straight ahead.

Perhaps Darkonda was simply relieved that they hadn't been vaporized. From what Justin had managed to piece together the mercenary had used up all of the additional lives Dark Specter had magically gifted him with as a reward for his service. He had only one life left now, just like almost every other being.

That was a fact which pleased the Blue Pyscho Ranger immensely.

Horath was largely a desert planet, with an uncomfortably high temperature. Justin took care to eat lunch and hydrate himself thoroughly as they descended through the atmosphere. There would be food and water for the lizardlike native slaves in the city, but it would be better by far not to have to rely on his host's hospitality for his bodily needs. Of course, depending on how long he would have to remain here, such reliance might well prove unavoidable.

Grimacing at the thought, Justin put his helmet back on and eyed the city as they swept over it. The metropolis gleamed in the sunlight, even more brightly than the many robots passing along the avenues and bridges.

They flew toward the landing pad they'd been directed to, one in Prince Gasket's home. Before Darkonda's briefing Justin had expected a cube, or perhaps a pyramid; instead it was castle built entirely from metal, with a few modern touches, such as the landing pads, defense lasers, interior monorail system, and various and sundry other improvements.

He probably should have expected as much, given Mondo's title as King, his wife's as Queen, and their sons as Princes of the "Royal House of Gadgetry". For all of their impressive technology and galaxy-spanning power, the ruling family of the Machine Empire retained a curiously medieval fixation.

"We were directed to the landing pad closest to Prince Gasket's quarters," Darkonda informed him as they passed over the exterior wall. "I'm sure he'll be there to meet us personally."

"To meet me," the Blue Psycho Ranger corrected firmly, savoring the surprised expression on the monster's hideous face. "You'll stay aboard the ship while I assess the situation and decide how you can best contribute."

"Remember who you're speaking to, boy!" the alien hissed dangerously, engaging the auto-pilot and spinning his chair to face the Blue Psycho Ranger. "You don't give me orders!"

"Maybe not, but Dark Specter does. You were assigned to be my assistant, remember? I'm the one in charge of this mission and you'll do as I say. Unless you want to call Dark Specter and complain to him?" Justin offered, rising up from his chair and waving a white-gloved hand invitingly towards the communications console.

Darkonda glared at him with such force that Justin tensed for battle, expecting the well-remembered energy bolts to once more blaze forth from the alien's eyes.

"Of course," Darkonda sneered, relaxing back into his pilot's chair. "It is your mission. You are in charge and you will make all the decisions. You will be the one to reap the rewards of success-or accept the punishment for failure," he finished gloatingly, completely quashing the growing satisfaction Justin had been feeling from having finally gotten the better of this monstrosity.

The Blue Psycho Ranger was saved from the necessity of futilely trying to come up with a worthy retort by the soft clank of metal on metal as the ship settled down onto the landing pad.

Without a word he turned and headed back toward the rear hatch, hitting the button on the wall which lowered the cargo ramp. His tinted visor helped shield him from the bright light after being in the twilight interior of Darkonda's vessel for so long, just as his Ranger uniform protected him from the heat. He was thus able to concentrate on and appreciate the spectacle Prince Gasket had apparently arranged for him.

A hundred foot long walkway connected this landing pad, located near the very top of the castle, to a tower jutting up from the building proper. Strung along the wide walkway was a double row of Cogs standing at attention. The two next to the castle door each rose what looked like one of the primitive one-piece horns from Earth's distant past, but clearly they were not; such instruments could not produce the pitch-perfect trumpeting sound which issued forth from them, especially when the "musicians" had no breath to blow into the instruments.

From the door stepped another Cog, appearing different from the others, his limbs and trunk more slender while his head was almost a third larger.

"Prince Gasket, ruler of Horath and all planets in this solar system, bids welcome to the Blue Pyscho Ranger, ambassador of the United Alliance of Evil!" he announced at what would have for humans been a shout.

Justin started forward, only to snap into his stance as every Cog in the double row moved at once. Their right arms snapped up, their flat right hands in position just above their eyes.

They were saluting him, Justin realized, feeling more than a little foolish for his instinctive reaction. He hadn't even met Prince Gasket yet and already he was off-balance and embarrassed. At least the Prince hadn't been here to see his error.

Only when he neared the tower door did Justin realize how wrong he was. Stranding just beyond the speaking robot, inside the open doorway, was a figure whose faceplate was vaguely reminiscent of a Japanese samurai or daimyo mask, his eye plates glowing yellow.

This was Prince Gasket, and the Blue Psycho Ranger had no doubt whatsoever that the ruler's optical viewers were able to see much farther than the hundred feet which had been separating them.

The thin robot dropped down to one knee, exposing the upper half of his sovereign. "Welcome indeed!" Prince Gasket stated. "I am honored by your visit."

"The honor is mine, Prince Gasket," Justin replied, formally bowing at the waist.

As Justin straightened he saw Mondo's first built son studying him intently. He had to very curious about why the UAE was suddenly reaching out to him, perhaps even worried, but of course being a mechanical being he gave no outward sign of either. Nor did he betray his interest with a question. Instead he said simply, "Let us retire to more comfortable surroundings" and headed off down the hall, motioning for Justin to follow him.

That he felt comfortable enough to turn his back on the Psycho Ranger, with no apparent guards present as the two of them descended the tower's circular stairway, was worrying. It could be only empty bravado, but it could also be a sign of genuine, well-placed confidence.

From the base of the stairway a short hall led to an automatic door, opening onto a red-carpeted, pillared throne room, with a gilded throne standing at a dais on the far side of the room. Before the dais was a small plain round table, with two chairs. Gasket took the far chair and motioned for Justin to take the remaining one.

So he was sitting them down as equals, rather than making Justin speak standing while he sat on the throne. Interesting.

"I can have food and drink brought for you," Gasket graciously offered.

"Thank you, my lord, but I have no need of them at present. The matter which has brought me here is of vital importance and I should speak of it immediately."

The Prince graciously inclined his head, saying nothing.

"Though much of the galaxy remains ignorant of that fact, you are doubtless aware that yesterday I and my fellow Psycho Rangers slew three of the Light Rangers and wounded another on the planet Morrigan. The Galactic League of Light," Justin spat out with contempt, "no longer has sufficient defenders to stand against the Psycho Rangers."

"Then why are you here instead of ravaging their planets?" Gasket asked in a tone of polite interest, but Justin knew when he was being played with.

"Though our ground forces are now irresistible, the GLL maintains a temporary naval superiority. The UAE wishes to press its advantage while our foe is still reeling, and in order to do so I have come to the only place in the galaxy which has an armada sufficient to reverse the tide. I have come to you, Prince Gasket."

"And what does my father have to say of this?" Gasket asked, leaning forward.

"He has not yet been informed, my prince. It was Dark Specter's hope that by coming here and speaking with you I might find a way to help build a bridge over the rift between you and your father."

The pointed invocation of the Grand Monarch of Evil did not have the cowing effect Justin had hoped. Electronic laughter issued forth from the Prince.

"There is no bridge to be built!" he insisted. "My father will never accept my wife. It was because of my marriage to her that I was exiled from the Royal House of Gadgetry and stripped of the title of crown prince! I lost my position, my inheritance, my parents . . . and it was all worth it," he concluded firmly.

I am sure the Lady Archerina is a companion beyond all value," Justin began, only to be interrupted.

"She is indeed," Prince Gasket confirmed. "Look upon her," he invited, gesturing back over the Blue Pscyho Ranger's shoulder.

Twisting in his chair he saw a slender, femininely-built robot only a few yards away. In her hands was a high tech-appearing bow and as he turned to face her she loosed an arrow of light aimed directly at his chest.

There wasn't time to dodge and somehow the light went right through his armor as though it wasn't there! Surprisingly there was no pain, only a strange sensation of warmth. He suddenly found himself wholeheartedly agreeing with Prince Gasket about Archernia. A being so beautiful, so perfect . . . who wouldn't give up everything to be with her? To please her?

"My wife is eager to hear details of the wider galaxy, ambassador. We entertain so seldom here. Why don't you tell her all about the UAE's plan for when my father threatens to secede if I am allowed into the Alliance's ranks? What is your real motive in coming here?"

The dark visor unexpectedly turned back to Price Gasket, and this time the Blue Psycho Ranger was the one to laugh.

"Good try, my Prince! Your wife's love arrow would have ensnared any other emissary, but we Psycho Rangers have our own kind of programming in the form of an implanted neural net. It institutes several changes to our minds, one of which is that we cannot feel the emotion of love. Her arrow's effects were cut off almost as soon as they began," he finished coldly, rising to stand before the shocked monarch.

Bolting up himself Prince Gasket whipped his sword from its scabbard.

"Even if you could destroy us, you would never leave Horath alive!" he snarled. "Go now, while you still may!"

"Go?" Justin questioned in mock puzzlement. "I'm not going anywhere, my Prince. You and your wife have just made clear to me how we're going to facilitate your entry into the United Alliance of Evil and thus bring about the conquest of the galaxy.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

There was no point in trying to watch the ship leave. Instead Billy left the hangar bay, shuffling more than walking down the corridor.

It had taken three feverish days of virtually non-stop work, but he'd completed it, tested it, and then sent "Cestro" off with its new user. Though he'd told that name to no one else, he thought it an appropriate tribute, and a fitting one, to his fallen friend.

That he wasn't worrying about the future at the moment was likely due to the almost complete physical, mental and emotional exhaustion he was feeling. Only hours earlier he'd had to defend to the GLL military his decision to pull their most valuable intelligence resource out of the field for what Admiral Melooren had characterized as a "overly optimistic, criminally irresponsible gamble".

Didn't the Aquitan see that gambles were the only hope they had left? That if they didn't take chances now the free part of the galaxy was inexorably doomed? The war had turned against them, and there was no easy, safe way to reverse that tide. If the Rangers continued to act conservatively, as the fleet had been doing, then they would all be killed, and the Galactic League of Light itself would be conquered and destroyed. Most of the military leaders, however, couldn't seem to bring themselves to accept that fact, instead railing against his decisions. Even with Admiral Telan's guarded support, Billy felt like he'd gone three rounds against Lord Zedd in his prime by the time the meeting finally concluded.

Now, the last of his obligations discharged, Billy slowly made his way to his quarters, to his bedroom, and there he collapsed onto the bed, asleep only seconds after his head hit the pillow.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

The staff smashed the Quantron's head cleanly from its shoulders before its tip drove like a spear into the chest of the last Quantron. Stepping back from his stance, Fred glanced down at the wreckage all around him which had once been a squad of twelve Quantrons.

They hadn't been much of a challenge at all, but he still felt better for having been able to vent some of his energy in battle. His set of chosen concubines was due to arrive tomorrow, which would be a welcome relief and distraction. In the four days since Justin had left Fred Kelman had been bored out of his mind!

In the resistance base there had always been tasks which needed doing, people to hang out with and spar with. He'd grown used to constant activity and companionship and so life on the Dark Fortress was really beginning to test his patience.

It'd be different if Justin were still here. Hanging out with him on Earth had been terrific, and if he hadn't been sent away they'd probably still be having a blast despite the lack of action. He hadn't heard from his friend since Justin had left, and he could only hope against hope that the latter's mission was going well.

"Ready to fight a real opponent?" a voice challenged and the Gold Psycho Ranger looked up to see Tommy standing at the door, in full morph naturally, with the other Psycho Rangers save Justin now leaning against the wall.

"Or do you only spar with Quantrons?" he goaded.

Okay, Fred knew what this was. Tommy was intending to beat him up in front of the other Rangers, thus demonstrating his dominance before his team. The words of Justin's warning echoed in the seventeen year-old's mind, and he would heed them. He wouldn't kill Tommy . . . but he wasn't about to back down or throw the match either.

"Let's spar," Fred agreed and Tommy advanced to near the center of the room. As they stood facing each other Fred couldn't resist taking an opening which would likely never come again.

"When you left I was but the learner," he told Tommy solemnly, grinning widely under his helmet. "Now I am the master!"

Come on, the black armor he was wearing, the old apprentice facing his mentor on the space station of a galactic empire?! How on Earth could he be expected to let all that go without making the Star Wars reference?

Sadly Tommy didn't seem to see the humor in his situation, rushing forward with a roar. For several minutes Fred was purely on the defensive, turning aside thrusts of Tommy's Psycho Sword and blocking chops with his staff.

Tommy was still an expert swordsman, Fred conceded ruefully as he ducked yet another swipe of the Psycho Sword. If not for his relentless aggression, the impatience he displayed in his eagerness to gut his former student, he would have landed a lot more than the three hits Fred had taken so far.

So it was time to change the game. Shifting into what he thought of as his "cannonball" form, Fred flashed away from Tommy before arcing back to slam into him and knock him into the wall. Smashing the Psycho Sword spinning away with a blow from his staff, he pressed the tip to Tommy's neck. Remembering how easily it had burned through the Aquitan's armor he was sorely tempted to do the same here, but instead he merely gloated, "I win."

"No, you don't," Tommy managed to rasp out, and that's when they hit him from behind. Fred figured out later that it must have been all three Psycho Rangers who got him simultaneously and once he was down they never let up, Tommy joining in almost immediately. His staff was wrenched away from him as what felt like electrified jackhammers pummeled seemingly every inch of his body. He couldn't teleport with the constant blows to his helmet; he could barely think!

When at last it ended Tommy lifted his own helmet up, revealing the horrific electronic components sticking out of his face.

Then he spat on the beaten Gold Psycho Ranger.

"Remember this!" the leader of the Psycho Rangers commanded. "You might have the Gold Psycho powers, but you're just the new kid on this team. Keep to your place from now on and we won't have to repeat this," he finished, replacing his helmet and striding from the room, followed by the other Psychos.

Left alone, Fred slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, drawing in one deep breath after another. Justin needed to get back soon. Otherwise he was going to rip Tommy limb from limb and fuck the consequences!

ΩΩΩΩΩ