The Nest was quiet tonight, only the janitorial and security staff were patrolling the hallways. Curfew on the base was 2200 hours precisely, after this time the Airmen were to either return to their barracks or leave for the night if they lived off base. On this night though, Taylor didn't feel like obeying this rule. Just over 24 hours ago she barely survived an attack on a NASADA space station. She was fortunate, the majority weren't so lucky including her long time friend Lieutenant Colonel Chris Benson.
She took responsibility for calling his wife with the news, they too had been friends for just as long. Taylor had been fortunate, she never had to make one of those calls before. Silently she told herself that she was never going to make another one.
The former yellow ranger reach the door to the gym and was greeted by the sound of someone pounding one of the punching bags. She opened the door with a sigh and stepped inside, "He's still going," Jazz said before she fully stepped inside.
"And you're still here," Taylor replied dryly, "I told you to go home hours ago." Getting nothing but a small shrug from the young woman, she turned her attention to the latest red ranger. He was striking the bag with ferocity and power that she'd never seen before. After one strike there was a loud snap and the bag dislodged from it's mounting, slamming into the wall ten feet away, "How many bags is that now?" she asked Jazz.
"Lost count after the fourth," the Scot replied, "I've been too engrossed with Doctor Neuer's research to notice," she added, shaking the laptop resting on her legs.
"The General has a team to look over this," Taylor sighed, "you could leave that to them."
"He left it to me," Jazz stated firmly, "I need to do this, I need to do something," her lip waivered slightly as her sentence trailed off.
Taylor glanced at the floor, spotting several discarded cans of Red Bull at Jazz's feet. The programmer had gathered together several mats to form a small seating area on the floor. Nudging one of the cans with her foot, the blonde slowly lowered herself down, "What have you found so far?" she asked
"Most the files are encrypted," Jazz began, "none of my decryption programs are working though, whatever Doctor Neuer used is beyond my expertise." She pushed the enter key and several images flashed up, "It looks like Doctor Neuer intercepted something from the Vyglass Empire, according to his notes the communication didn't come from this universe."
"A parallel world," Taylor mused outloud, "or possibly extra dimensional creatures."
"Yeah," Jazz cast Taylor a puzzled look, "you don't strike me as a believer in the multiverse."
Taylor let out a strangled laugh, she had fought beasts from thousands of years in the past and her ex-husband battled against criminals from the future. The concept of a multiverse didn't seem so unusual after that, "I've heard of stranger concepts," Taylor said simply, "what did the message say?" she added, trying to divert the conversation.
"Not sure," Jazz began, "he never translated the audio but the pictures speak for themselves." Jazz played the video and Taylor was bombarded with images of war, violence and suffering, all lead by the same creatures which had attacked the base, "I know, it made me feel sick too," Jazz quickly shut the video off.
The former yellow ranger allowed herself a moment to regain her composure, "So the Doctor intercepts this transmission and just decided to create a team of Power Rangers? How long ago did he get this message?"
"No idea," Jazz shrugged, "it's the oldest file on his system but according to the log, he's only had this device for about six months."
"It was issued new to him," the two women jumped at the sound of General Harkness's voice, "around the same time he came to us with the Avian Waves design." The General called over to the newest red ranger, "Atkins, I thought I told you to return to your barracks." The Lieutenant looked over and reluctantly stopped punching the bag, "Same for the two of you," he added towards Taylor and Jazz.
"Sorry, lost track of time," Jazz apologised, "if you have five minutes though, I might have a lead on the Avian Waves.
The General checked his watch, "Fine but make it quick Miss Sharma." A couple of taps later and the dark haired woman turned her laptop towards the Air Force officers, "Aaronsdale High School senior sets new record?" he asked, "I fail to see the connect to the Avian Waves?"
"Did you get to the bit about her time?" Jazz said, scrolling the page down, "she got within a second of the eight hundred meter world record."
"A High School senior?" Taylor frowned, "they probably timed her wrong or something, public schools are always complaining about the quality of their equipment."
Jazz shook her head, "They made her run again, this time with three people timing and she did almost exactly the same time again. It might be nothing but could be worth checking out."
Taylor looked towards the General who offered a shrug in response, "It's a start I guess but first you're going home to get some rest," she held up a hand to stop Jazz's complaint, "I'll get base security to run you home. I'll need you fully rested, meet me at Aaronsdale High School at 0800 tomorrow."
Jazz stood up with a groan, snapping her laptop closed and stiffly walking towards the door, "You too Lieutenant, try and rest up," she added towards Mark. The young man paused and saluted the officers before walking away, "I'm worried about him," she said once Mark had left the gym.
"Atkins will be fine, he just needs something to focus on but he's not the only thing I'm worried about," General Harkness shook his head, "millions of dollars have been poured into this project and in just a few minutes, all the research, scientists and most of the cadets were wiped out."
"We've still got Jazz," Taylor defended the young woman, "she seems pretty solid, I'm sure she'll pass on what she knows to the rest of the team."
General Harkness looked glum, "What team? I've just come out a conference call with the President, he's pulling funding for Project Jet Force." He let out a loud sigh, "We'll have to work with whatever and whoever we've got available."
Taylor gaped for a moment, "But that's ridiculous," she spat, "you've seen what the Vyglass can do first hand and they expect one trained cadet and four total rookies to be able to handle that?"
"It doesn't matter what I thought, the politicians made that perfectly clear," Harkness spat, "Doctor Neuer was well prepared, the morphers, zords and basic weapons arsenal are ready to go, it just needs someone to use them."
"And someone to oversee the project," Taylor finished.
"Are you volunteering?" the General asked.
Taylor nodded, "This is Ranger business, I'd be offended if I wasn't at least considered. One condition though," she added with a slight pause, "if I am to mentor this team, I'd want the appropriate rank."
General Harkness's face was blank and for a moment Taylor wondered if she'd overreached. The General turned to walk away but as he did, he said, "Get the team together and we'll talk," he left the gym, leaving Taylor alone in under the harsh artificial lighting.
After leaving the Nest, Jazz found herself dumped unceremoniously outside her home. She wasn't expecting a personable service from a couple of Air Force security guards but a smile would've been nice. She barely had time to grab her backpack from the trunk before the car sped away, "Good night to you too," she called out sarcastically.
Her place wasn't much to look at, a beige panelled building that was one level above an IKEA flatpack for structural integrity. There were two storeys and a basement, there were enough bedrooms for four people but the University had more houses than students at the moment so only one other room was occupied.
Her house mate seemed decent enough, he was an engineering major who spent most of his waking hours in the basement. He turned it into his private little den, complete with several consoles and computers and possibly the most expensive gaming chair known to man. Any space not occupied with his consoles was taking up with whatever engineering project he was currently working on. Jazz swore that he actually slept down there most nights but she respected his privacy and just left him to it.
The lights were off as Jazz pushed the door open, the main door lead into the kitchen area which looked practically untouched. Dropping her bag next to the table, she stuck her head into the front room, "I'm back," she called, "little earlier than planned," there was no response, "he can't be out, he never goes out." It might be nearly midnight but that was usually the start time for her roommates online gaming session, usually the same time that the best players in Asia came online he said one day.
Shrugging her shoulders, Jazz flicked on the kitchen light and went to the fridge. As usual it was pretty empty, in fact everything looked in the same place and when she went into space several weeks ago, "At least my drinks are still here," she reached for a bottle containing an orange liquid, twisted the cap and took a mouthful, "I'll have to ask my Mum to send over some more Irn-Bru, the stuff you get in the States doesn't taste the same."
Suddenly there was a loud bang from the basement, Jazz froze immediately, "Ricky, you alright down there?" Again there was no response, already on edge after her near death experience, Jazz looked around the kitchen for a weapon, settling on a wooden rolling pin that had never been used.
Reaching the basement door, she knocked carefully, "Ricky if you're down there, just shout," there was another bang followed by the sound of metal snapping, "I warn you I'm tired, hungry, stressed and armed, not a great combination." Summoning all her courage, she pushed the door open and stomped down the wooden stairs.
The lights were on and everything seemed to be in place but on closer inspection, several pieces of metal were bent and twisted. She picked one up and turning it over in her hands, "What the hell did this?" she muttered.
Someone or something grabbed her arm and Jazz reacted on instinct. With a loud cry she turned and swung the rolling pin, cracking her would be attacker in the head. She was about to attack again but she recognised the mess of floppy dark hair, "Ricky?" she cried, "you wally, I could've taken your bleedin' head off."
Her housemate took a couple of seconds to regain his composure and adjust his wire framed glasses. His yellow checked shirt was open which was teamed with a Marvel logo t-shirt, "I thought you were on your placement for another four weeks?" Ricky replied, grabbing the side of his head.
"Things ended a little suddenly," Jazz began, "I heard banging and thought someone was robbing the place." When Ricky moved his hand, Jazz was relieved to see he wasn't bleeding. That relief soon turned to surprise, she wasn't known for her strength but getting a solid wooden block to the face would leave a bruise at least. "There's not a mark on you," Jazz frowned, inspecting Ricky's face.
"Need to lift more then," Ricky said defensively.
"You're one to talk," Jazz huffed, "I'm the one who opens the jars around here," she grabbed one of the twisted metal pieces from the shelf, "maybe we should ask whoever did this for some tips." Ricky suddenly froze and he began looked around nervously, "Something you need to tell me?" she asked, a nervous feeling filling her stomach.
Rocky sighed, "Promise to keep this to yourself?" he took the rolling pin from Jazz's hand, snapping it in half effortlessly, "Something really strange happened to me yesterday, I was hit with a yellow bolt of lightning and now I can bend metal with my bare hands."
Jazz didn't know what to say, on the plus side she had managed to find a recipient of the Avian Waves. On the flip side, Ricky wasn't trained for this. He wasn't an athlete, his idea of exercise was running up the stairs to get another soda during a break in his game. The General and the Major were not going to like this, "Maybe you should sit down Ricky, I've got a little bit of explaining to do."