Disclaimer- Saban owns everybody except DIC's Real Ghostbusters and various created characters. If you don't know who's who by now, you've come in at the wrong fic in the series. This is number 27 in the Personality Conflicts series and the sixth in a six-part story arc. That's right, friends and neighbors, this is it! This fic is rated PG-13 by the Motion Picture Association of America for violence, language, and deep stuff. Break out the Kleenex, people! The song "Dust in the Wind" is property of Kansas, (the band, not the state,) and "You're Gone" is by Del Rio.
by : Ellen Brand
"Let justice be done, though the heavens fall."- Lord Mansfield, in ~ Rex vs. Wilkes~
July 11
Chelsea whistled, catching her first glimpse of Triforia. Ecliptor's scout was currently in orbit around the planet, attracting little attention among the hundreds of transports circling the green and yellow planet.
"It's beautiful," she remarked. "But- aren't there any oceans?"
Trey grinned. "As many as on Earth. They're just not blue. We have an ocean-dwelling plankton on Triforia that makes the water appear a deep emerald green."
"Are the two of you ready?" Ecliptor asked. "The teleportation is set up."
Trey and Chelsea stepped onto the teleportation pad, ready to be sent to the main teleport station in Aurilia, the capital. Chelsea suddenly cocked an eyebrow at the crystalline being who stood at the controls. "Are you going to be okay spending two days here by yourself?" she asked. Ecliptor chuckled.
"I will be fine," he assured her. "And I doubt I would be very welcome on the planet. Have a good time." Pressing a button on the console, he watched as the two before him dissolved into their teleport streams, one gold, one white.
"Wow," Chelsea breathed, materializing on one of the pads. The Aurilia teleport station had been created to control the arrival of travelers, to keep them from materializing in inconvenient areas and to monitor who came and went. Since it was the first thing a visitor to Triforia saw, it was understandably impressive. High, vaulted ceilings were supported by columns, made of the same strange golden stone as the walls. Gold, Trey had once informed her, was a very common color in Triforian nature, second only to green. It had to do with some mineral found in abundance there, but she couldn't remember the name of it at the moment.
Trey laughed, watching as his fiancee tried to take in everything at once. "Come on, Chelsea," he grinned, taking her hand. "I'll give you a grand tour of Aurilia later. Right now, we've got to get out front and get a cab." She nodded, following him as he led the way through the teleport station. As they passed a ticket desk, she snickered. She could hear the woman on duty explaining that his teleport would be late because parts needed to fix the pad were stuck in transit on Planet O'hari. Shaking her head, she continued after Trey and out into the sunshine of Aurilia.
The streets were filled with people in all manner of conveyances. A triangular symbol that Chelsea guessed meant "taxicab" adorned many of them, from hovercars to ground cars to carriages drawn by- Chelsea blinked. That couldn't really be a Pepto-Bismol pink OSTRICH, could it?
"That's an aoridil," Trey told her quietly, seeing her expression. "They're strong, but they have very little brain. As a matter of fact, that's the car I got. Come on." The two of them made for the carriage, Trey helping Chelsea to climb in. Once settled into the seat, she looked around herself and saw several other aoride in various other pastel shades, from blue to green to lavender.
"Where to, buddy?" the cab driver asked, nudging his aoridil into a trot.
"Royal Palace, please," Trey replied, while Chelsea was absorbed in the architecture around them.
The cab driver shook his head. "Your business, but I wouldn't be headed in there. Somebody's stirred up a real hornet's nest."
"Yeah?" Trey asked curiously. He would have thought Darkonda would have kept the news of his arrest from his family, since no one else seemed to know anything about what was occurring.
"Oh, yeah, it's all over the place. Apparently Prince Trey hasn't been heard from in days, and the queen's getting worried. There's all sorts of rumors that something big's going on."
Trey grinned. "I wouldn't worry about the prince; he can take care of himself."
"Well yeah, but she's his mother. Mothers worry. You know how that is. Why, my mother herself, Triune Lady give her peace, used to raise such a fuss about me." As the cab driver talked, Trey listened with only half an ear. The rest of his attention was taken up with watching Chelsea absorb the sights and sounds of a Triforian city, and realize just how good it was to be home.
Since they were between crises at the moment, the assorted heroes gathered to deal with Shadowborg had decided to take a short break and go hang out in the park. Peter had even managed to drag Egon out of the Power Chamber, Dragon Borg volunteering to watch the monitors and Les. Despite his protests, the blond Ghostbuster had been almost immediately drawn into a game of football with the other Ghostbusters, JB, Dex, Lita, Tasha, Roland, and Jo.
Josh was relaxing under a tree, watching the football game with detached interest when he felt someone plop down next to him. Looking over, he was only mildly surprised to see Drew there. "What's up?" he asked laconically.
Drew shrugged. "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for trying to kill you," he replied. "And I wanted to thank you for bringing me back."
"Drew," Josh began. There was something he wanted to say, and this seemed to be as good a time as any. "All those things I said during the fight- I didn't mean them. I was just trying to tick you off so that you'd make a mistake. Those insults I threw at you- they're all bull."
Drew smiled. "I know that, here, at least." He touched his forehead. "I did want to ask you about something else, though."
"What?"
"Why? I could have killed you without a second thought, Josh. The way I was feeling, I could have gutted you and enjoyed it. Why did you take a risk like that?"
"Because you're my friend, Drew," Josh replied. "Despite all the problems we've had, I know you'd have done it for me. You're the type of leader who'll risk everything for his team, and even for people he doesn't know. You've got more courage than I ever will, and I respect that. I did it because if you were gone, my world would be a lot poorer, even if we do fight all the time. You're my friend, Drew. I'd take any risk to help you."
Drew was silent at that for a long time. "I'm glad," he said at last. "And I'm honored to count you as my friend as well." The two of them said little for a long time, simply sat, watching as the occupants of the park enjoyed the day. Besides the football players, Art could be seen, sitting under a tree and sketching. Not far away were Justin, Fred, Franklin, and Rosa, sparring with each other. Under another tree, Ryan and Katie were looking deep into each other's eyes, talking about something in low tones. Drew winced. "Ouch."
"What?" Josh wanted to know. Drew pointed to yet another tree, where Kaitlin was just turning away from the lovebirds. "Oh."
Drew levered himself to his feet. "Come on, we'd better go talk to her."
Josh did the same, and the two of them crossed the park to where Kaitlin stood. "You all right?" Josh asked. Kaitlin nodded.
"It doesn't hurt quite as much anymore," she explained. "It's just- he seems so happy."
Drew raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want him to be happy?" he probed, sensing there was something behind this.
She sighed, flopping down to sit on the grass and hug her knees. "I do, but- sometimes it seems as if Ryan's only happy right before something awful happens. The last time he found someone he seemed that happy with, she turned out to be one of Grimlord's minions. He'd barely gotten his father back when Tyler Steele had to go to Norway to continue his research. I'm just afraid that he's being set up for another fall. And with Shadowborg out there, it's all too possible."
"You can't know what's going to happen in the future," Josh replied. "All we can do is be here to try and make sure nothing happens."
Kaitlin nodded, but her eyes were clouded with worry. "You're right, Josh, but I can't shake the feeling that there's a storm rolling in."
"I'm sorry, but the Palace is closed to visitors today," the guard informed them politely. Trey and Chelsea exchanged glances, and she barely smothered a smile. He did look quite different in his Earth clothes, with his tattoo covered by make-up. Still, it seemed a little silly that the guards didn't recognize him.
Trey sighed. "Look, does this help? Golden Power Staff!" Extending his hand, Trey called the staff to him in a flash of golden light. The two guards' jaws hit the ground.
"Prince Trey! Forgive us. Your- attire mislead us," one managed. Trey shook his head in amusement.
"It's all right, Tresan. Can we go in to see my mother now? I'm sure she's frantic."
"Of course, my lord. If I may ask- who is your companion?"
"Chelsea Oliver of Earth." Seeing the guardsman's startled expression, Trey chuckled. "It's a very long story, Tresan."
"Follow me, then, my lord. Your mother is in the council room, meeting with the advisors to the court."
Trey grinned. "Oh good. I get to make an entrance." Tresan snorted.
"Truly, you are the least conventional prince Triforia has had in eons," he replied. They made their way through lushly decorated halls. Chelsea would have liked to examine the furniture and wall hangings more closely, but had no real time to. Soon they reached a wooden door, and Tresan stood to one side, smiling slightly.
"I suppose you'll wish to announce yourself?" the guardsman asked, with the attitude of one long used to such antics. Trey laughed.
"Don't I always? Stay about a step behind me, Chelse. I don't think they'll notice you that way, and I'd like you to meet my mother before the advisors pounce on you." At her nod, he took a deep breath, and pushed the doors open.
"Really, your Majesty, we must face facts," a thin-faced man in a black tunic was saying. "If your son were able to respond to our hails, he would have done so by now. I think it's quite obvious-"
"That I'm alive and kicking, Fetrin," Trey interrupted, folding his arms over his chest. Chelsea grinned to herself. Someone was going to get it now.
"Lord Trey!" In unison, five advisors shot to their feet, leaving only the Queen seated. Four faces, including Fetrin's, showed pure shock. The fifth man seemed surprised, but was also grinning like an idiot.
"Nice to see you're not decorating the bottom of an Earth river somewhere," the man greeted Trey. "What happen? Forget to pay your comm bill?"
"I've been a little busy, Zared," Trey shot back. He then raked his other advisors with a sharp glare. "I trust this will show you the dangers in declaring me dead before suitable evidence is found?"
"Uh… yes, my lord," a white-haired man said, bowing. Trey nodded.
"Then leave us, please. I would like to have a discussion with my mother." The advisors bowed quickly and left the room, Zared last.
"We'll talk later," he promised, winking at Trey. Then he scurried out, closing the door behind them. Trey sighed, turning back to his mother, who was still seated.
"What was all that about?"
Lady Trania sighed, placing a hand on her forehead. "There are a number of your advisors who are- concerned about the amount of time you spend on Earth. Technically, Trey, you ARE the King of Triforia."
Trey snorted. "In this case, technicalities aren't worth a pile of feathers." He dropped heavily into a chair, motioning for Chelsea to sit as well. Chelsea did so, studying Trey's mother as she did. Lady Trania was an attractive woman, apparently in her mid- to late-forties. Her hair was reddish, but she had the same sparkling dark eyes as her son. The lines of her face were quite similar as well.
"That may be, Trey, but your advisors worry about you spending so much time in that- 'barbaric backwater,' I believe were Ferin's exact words." Trania smiled, and Chelsea suddenly knew exactly where Trey had learned to play political hardball from. Suddenly she felt the Queen's gaze fall on her. "And who is this young lady, Trey?"
"Mother, this is Chelsea Oliver, from Earth. She's the sister to one of the Power Rangers there, and she's also my fiancee."
Trania raised an eyebrow and looked Chelsea over again, more appraisingly this time.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, ma'am," Chelsea spoke up. "Trey's told me a great deal about his family."
"I hope most of it was flattering," Trania chuckled. "Trey and his sisters- do not always see eye to eye."
"I have three brothers," Chelsea assured her. "I know how to interpret."
Smiling at that, the Queen then turned to her son. "Trey, I am indeed very happy that you have found someone to complete your life, but have you thought this through? You're going to give the nobles heart attacks."
Trey grinned. "Some change will be good for them," he replied teasingly. "Seriously, mother, I have thought about this a great deal. Chelsea has a number of qualities that will make her an excellent Queen, as well as making her the woman I love." Trey flashed a smile at his fiancee in apology for talking around her. "First of all, as the sister to a Power Ranger, she'll cement our ties with THE most powerful fighting force in the galaxy. Second, she is an excellent diplomat, capable of learning languages quickly and NOT provoking a fight, even when tempted. She is a warrior in her own right, and has recently become a full member of the Deshaadra. She's a leader, good at decision-making and dealing with people. I absolutely refuse to marry a noble maid who has been taught since birth that her only function is to bear children and look pretty on my arm."
Chelsea chuckled. "Breathe, Trey. You're going to be the Blue Ranger in a minute."
Grinning, Trey looked at his mother. "Did I also mention that she's not afraid of anybody?"
Trania laughed. "It'll be good for you to have someone to keep you in line," the queen replied. "Welcome to the family, dear." Then she sobered. "What brings you back to Triforia, Trey? It must be very important for you to leave your post on Earth."
"It is," he answered grimly. "I've been arrested." Quickly, he filled his mother in on the events of the past two weeks. "That's why I'm here," he finished. "I have to make arrangements in case I'm found guilty. Darkonda must NOT get his hands on the Gold Ranger Powers."
"What do you propose to do?" Lady Trania asked curiously.
Trey took a deep breath. "I'm naming Trialia as my successor, NOW. If I'm found guilty at the trial, you'll have to claim the powers instantly, before the Council can strip them from me. Trialia's had the training, and she's always wanted to follow in my footsteps. I know she'll make an excellent Gold Ranger if necessary."
"Trey, the holder of the Gold Ranger powers is ALWAYS the child in line for the throne," his mother reminded him. "There hasn't been a female Gold Ranger since the days of Solaria. I'm only the ruling Queen because your father died before you were truly ready to assume the throne."
Trey nodded. "I know, Mother, and it means I'm going to have to kick some- uh, be extremely persuasive to get my advisors to support her." Chelsea snickered at his self-censorship, and he threw her a look. "However, I always knew this might happen, and since I had no little brothers, I've been training Trill to take the post."
Trania sighed. "Well, I have no objections, but you will have to discuss it with your sister. Both of them should be back at the palace tonight for dinner- will the two of you join us?"
Trey nodded. "Yes, Mother, thank you."
In a cold, dark office in Cross World City, a businessman by the name of Karl Ziktor surveyed the city below him. The past two weeks had been peaceful for the people of the city, an occurrence that was almost unheard of. For two years, mutants and robots from the world of virtual reality had been launching attacks on it, attacks always repelled by the VR Troopers. But now the Troopers had turned their attention to Shadowborg, and Grimlord had seemingly taken a vacation. The people of Cross World were unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth, but privately, some couldn't help but wonder why the virtual warlord would stop his attacks just when the city was most vulnerable.
Karl Ziktor's mouth curved in a thin smile. ~ He~ knew. Turning away from the window, he caressed the prism that sat on his desk. It was that prism which empowered him, which gave him the power he would need to one day control the world. For Karl Ziktor, wealthy industrialist, was also Grimlord, master of the Virtual World.
And he was a strategist. Why should he waste his resources fighting the VR Troopers, especially when they had so many allies on their side? Let them battle the Shadowborg. Whichever force was victorious, the winner would be exhausted, and easy prey for the fresh, strong Virtual Army. Whichever way the battle went, reality would belong to Grimlord.
As he had watched the battles unfolding on his television screen, however, doubts had begun to assail him. If there was one thing he had learned over the course of his two-year battle with the Troopers, it was that overcoming tremendous odds only made them stronger, as if victory provided them with some fresh surge of energy. And should any of Ryan Steele's companions be the first to die, the battle would be over right then and there. Ziktor had no illusions about that. Ryan Steele would hunt him down and kill him, no matter how badly wounded he was in the process.
No, too many things could go wrong if he played the waiting game. Which was why he had come up with a new plan. Placing his hand on the prism, he took a deep breath. "Forces of Darkness, empower me! Take me back to my Virtual Reality." Light flashed, and suddenly Karl Ziktor, wealthy businessman, was transformed into Grimlord, virtual warlord. Clad in strange metal armor, Grimlord did not appear human. Clawed hands and feet, thick scaly skin, and a tail growing from the small of his back gave him more the appearance of a demonic lizard. His eyes glowed with red energy as he scanned his Dark Fortress, where the transformation had carried him.
"Colonel Icebot!" he growled, sending a beam of energy at one wall. A viewscreen formed, showing a white robot whose face seemed permanently formed into a sly grin.
"All is in readiness, your Lordship!" Grimlord's main scientist and chief suck-up replied. "We have modified the sensors to allow teleportation directly to this Nukus' base of operations."
Doommaster, the leader of Grimlord's troops, bowed. "I am ready to depart whenever you command, Grimlord."
"No, Doommaster, I think to have the proper effect, I shall go myself." In a flash of red light, Grimlord dissolved.
When he reappeared, he found himself in a cavern, deep underground. Ahead of him, he could hear voices, and he moved forward to investigate.
"Perhaps you're not the great warrior you were rumored to be," Horribelle sniffed. "Those heroes have rescued their friend, gained reinforcements, and quite nearly sent you packing. Looks like they're on to you."
Shadowborg barely seemed to move, but Horribelle suddenly found the Shadow Claw buried in the rock wall beside her head. "If someone hadn't allowed the defense force to acquire my creator, perhaps we would still have the advantage," Shadowborg replied quietly. "But it matters little. It is a pity that we cannot use Drew in our fight against these heroes, but he still served a very useful purpose."
"And what is that?" Nukus asked, curious.
"I now know the identities of every member of that defense force, and a good deal about the strengths and weaknesses of each. And superior knowledge is the key to winning this war."
Liking what he was hearing, Grimlord stepped out of the shadows, instantly gaining the attention of all four occupants of the crypt. Quickly, he raised his hands to show he was unarmed. "I'm not here for a fight, Nukus. As a matter of fact, I have a proposal for you."
Nukus cocked his head. "What type of proposal? And just who are you?"
"I am Grimlord, master of virtual reality and eternal enemy to those accursed Troopers, part of that defense force that is giving you so much trouble. I'd like to give you a hand with that, if I may."
"And just why should we trust you?" Vilor challenged.
Grimlord chuckled. "No real reason. But consider this. I have NEVER been able to defeat those tin-plated heroes on my own. Why would I double-cross you and condemn myself to that fate once more?"
Nukus thought about that, then nodded. "What do you propose, Grimlord?"
"An alliance. The two of us will work together to defeat those heroes, no tricks, no back-stabbing, no nothing."
"And then I suppose we'll share the world equally," Horribelle sneered.
Grimlord waved irritably. "Of course not! This would be a temporary alliance, lasting only until the heroes are destroyed. Then we are once again rivals for this Earth. I know better than to propose an alliance based on anything more than self-interest. It is in both of our best interests to cooperate until our enemies are destroyed."
"An alliance, then," Nukus replied. "What do you have that we could need?"
"A little present for your warrior there," Grimlord laughed. With a flash, a katana appeared in his hands, the blade as dark as ebony and gleaming slightly. "This sword will cut through VR armor as if it was butter, and there's a surprise in the blade, as well. I think it'll serve you quite well."
Shadowborg took the blade from Grimlord, swinging it a few times to test its heft. Then, grunting acceptance, he placed it on a nearby table.
"I have one other thing to bring to this alliance- my advice on the Troopers," Grimlord continued. "I know them in ways that only someone who's spent years battling them can. My first bit of advice is- kill Steele first. Of all the Troopers, and perhaps the entire force, Ryan Steele must be the first to die."
"I would have thought you'd want him to be last, considering all the trouble he's caused you," remarked Vilor.
"It's not a question of vengeance, it's a question of survival. If he sees one of his companions die, he will go completely insane. There will most likely be no stopping him. No, Steele must die first."
"Very well," Nukus remarked. Crossing to Grimlord, he stuck out his hand, and the two shook. "This looks like the beginning of a most profitable relationship."
"Well, what do you think?" Chelsea asked, slightly apprehensive. She'd been informed that dinner would be a semi-formal affair, and she doubted any of her traveling clothes would be appropriate. Luckily, Trania had taken charge, selecting an outfit that belonged to Trey's older sister, Trianna.
Trey's jaw dropped. "Wow," he managed finally. The gown wasn't anything formal, but it looked excellent. A simple sleeveless dress of a sparkling dark gold cloth, the full skirt was elegant, but not so bulky as to impair movement. "You look great," he managed finally, extending his arm.
"You too," she replied, taking it. He was wearing a black tunic and matching pants, both trimmed with gold. The two of them headed into the dining room, and saw that they were apparently the last to arrive.
Lady Trania stood at the head of the table, nodding to her son as he arrived. On her left was a girl with the same reddish hair as Trania, but eyes that were a strange golden color. She nodded to Trey as well.
"Chelsea, my sister, Trianna. Trianna, this is Chelsea Oliver," Trey introduced them. Trianna bowed, and Chelsea returned the gesture.
"It is a pleasure to meet the woman my brother has fallen so hard for," Trianna replied, smiling slightly. Chelsea grinned.
"And I'm glad to finally meet the older sister he told me so much about," she responded.
Trey then turned to his mother's right. The first place was empty, being reserved for him, but at the second stood a girl with the same coal-black hair and eyes as Trey. She wrinkled her nose at him.
Trey laughed. "Chelsea, this is my younger sister Trialia. Trialia, this is Chelsea Oliver."
"Call me Trill," the girl replied. "Everyone does." She extended her hand to Chelsea. "I hope I got that right. Trey's been telling me about Earth customs, but I'm not sure I remember everything."
Chelsea grinned. "On Earth, we generally use the right hand to shake, but you've got it down pretty well." Making a face, Trialia quickly extended the other hand, and the two girls shook.
Turning to the last occupant of the room, Trey raised an eyebrow. "Zared? Who invited you to dinner?"
"Trill did," the young man replied, indicating the girl across the table from him. "Seriously, Trey, I want to talk to you before the carnage tomorrow, and this was the best way."
Trey nodded. Quickly seating Chelsea beside his younger sister, he then claimed his chair at his mother's side.
The main course was some sort of roast fowl which looked to Chelsea rather like a turkey. It didn't taste like one, though, and not like a chicken, either. The flavor was in fact more like beef than either.
"It's called whitari," Trey explained. "They're everywhere on the planet, so it's a very common meal."
Once the dinner was underway, Trialia raised an eyebrow at her brother. "Mother informed us that you had something to ask," she probed. "What's the matter?"
Trey sighed. "A rather large problem has come up," he replied. Quickly, he related the events of Zordon's arrest and the subsequent journey he and Chelsea had taken. The other diners were aghast.
"You're a fugitive?" Zared managed finally, a slight grin crossing his face. "Trey, I never knew you had it in you."
Trey grinned back. "You shut up," he replied warmly.
Seeing the look on Chelsea's face, Trialia leaned over and whispered, "Trey and Zared have been friends forever. Zared's probably the only person who can get away with telling Trey when he's full of it."
"This is indeed most distressing news," Trianna broke in, "but I sense that it is not all that preoccupies you."
Trey winced. "You're going to be quite a wizard someday," he allowed. "There's a very strong chance that I might be found guilty. If that happens, the Council will strip me of my powers, and Darkonda will move that they be given to whatever candidate he has control of. If that happens, Triforia will be in grave danger."
"So don't be found guilty," Trialia suggested practically. Chuckling, Trey shook his head.
"I'll try my best, Trill, but frankly, I can't make any guarantees. Which is why you have to be ready to claim the Gold Ranger powers at a moment's notice."
"WHAT?" Trialia shot to her feet. "You want ~ me~ to be the Gold Ranger? Trey, last I checked, I was nowhere near the line of succession! I wouldn't know the first thing about ruling or Rangering!"
"You'd be surprised, Trill," her brother replied calmly. "Remember how I fought tooth and nail to get you included in all those lessons Father sent me to? At first, I just wanted some company, but as time went on, I realized that I needed a successor, a back-up, just in case something happened to me. You've had the same training I've had."
Trialia sank back into her chair. "Trey, I'm the third child, the useless one, politically, I mean. Trianna's the daughter, you're the heir, and nobody ever cared what I did, except my family. If you're going to pass the powers on to a sister, it ought to be Trianna."
"But I don't have the training for it," her older sister replied. "Besides, I'm only a few minutes older than you. As triplets, none of us REALLY has a stronger claim to the throne than the others. Trey only became the heir because he's male."
"Trill, you have the heart and soul of a warrior, and the intelligence and integrity to make a wonderful queen," Zared broke in. "The people love you, and would support you in a heartbeat." Then he grinned. "And after Trey's through with the counselors, I don't think any of them are going to have the guts to oppose you either." Then his face grew more serious.
"Trey, about this candidate Darkonda has. To have a prayer of being accepted by the Council and the people, he'd have to be pretty high up the line of succession."
Trey nodded grimly. "Which means he's likely to be fairly close to me- to us. I think we'd all better watch our backs."
July 12
Ray frowned. "Hey, Egon, check this out," the occultist called, still regarding the computer readout. The blond physicist strode across the Power Chamber, looking over his friend's shoulder.
"Most interesting, Raymond," Egon allowed, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "What type of energy fluctuation do you believe it is?"
Stantz shook his head. "I don't know, Egon. I was scanning for energy pulses, hoping to tap into one of Shadowborg's teleports so that we don't have to wait for him to start blowing stuff up. But this isn't any type of energy I really understand."
Egon pursed his lips. "Professor? Flabber? Do either of you recognize this type of surge?"
"I'm afraid I do, Dr. Spengler," Professor Hart replied. "That is a virtual energy surge, of the type that indicates that the barrier between reality and virtual reality has been broken. It usually proceeds one of Grimlord's attacks."
Ray made a face. "Great. All we need right now is for one of the other villains to decide to make our lives more interesting." He clicked a few keys, tracing the surge to its source. "Well, it is in Cross World," the engineer reported. "But I don't see any disturbances. The map indicates that it's an office building of some type."
"Hmm…" Professor Hart frowned. "Can you set up one of the computers to monitor it? That way, if the pulse happens again, we could record some type of visual record, and discover the source of the problem."
Egon nodded. "Excellent idea, Professor." The two Ghostbusters began to work.
Regarding the five men gathered in his council room, Trey sighed inaudibly. It had been almost two years since he'd had to handle something like this. The Power Rangers Zeo could be a handful, but at least they worked together. His advisors, nobles from the five provinces of Triforia, tended to fight almost as often as they cooperated. Getting all five of them to agree on any plan of action was difficult, and one that went against tradition as far as this one would be nearly impossible. He just hoped he wasn't out of practice.
Surveying the table as the nobles talked quietly among themselves, he catalogued which ones he could expect support from, and which would be trouble. Zared, of course, would back him. The young lord of Kinyama had been his friend since they were very small, and had seen firsthand Trialia's abilities. Neither her age nor her gender would give him a moment's pause.
Another one he could probably count on was Rhatax, lord of Rioro province. In his mid-fifties by Earth standards, the large, stolid nobleman was slow to arrive at a decision, but he was always fair. In addition, his wife was the commander of the Rioro guard, so he would have few prejudices about women. Hopefully, Lord Rhatax could keep the arguments in here from getting out of hand.
Then Trey's gaze fell on Ferin, the lord he had interrupted during yesterday's meeting. Ferin wasn't a bad man, but he was very stuck on things being done properly, according to the way things had always been. Trey's ascension to the throne at a fairly young age had rankled the Aurathan noble, and he could just imagine how the idea of a ruling Queen and Gold Ranger would go down.
Another one that might be difficult to convince was Tritus of Midian. He was getting on in years, and any type of change set badly with him, most especially the liberation Triforian females had been achieving recently. Still, Trey had a few arguments that he thought could sway the man.
Last of all was Vetrian, the lord of Verdemar. Vetrian had been a good friend to his father, and Trey knew the man was fair in his decisions. What his opinion on the subject might be, however, Trey didn't know. Vetrian would be the most important one to sway to his side.
"Gentlemen," Trey began, quieting the conversation in the room. "I have convened this meeting for a vital discussion. I have been placed under arrest by the Council." Shocked mutters filled the room, and Trey quickly raised a hand to quiet them. "I have discovered that this is part of an attempt by a member of the Alliance of Evil to gain control of the Gold Ranger powers. I must go to Erlion and stand trial; there is no way around that. However, I will not allow evil to gain these powers, held in trust by the Triforian Royal line since the creation of our race. Therefore, I have chosen a successor who will take my powers should the Council find me guilty. Does this meet with opposition from any of you?"
"Of course not, my lord," Ferin replied. "It is the only course open to you." The other four echoed his nod.
Trey smiled slightly. "Good. Then I imagine you will all support my successor- Princess Trialia."
It was, Trey reflected, as if he had dropped a stink bomb in the youth center. Ferin and Tritus shot to their feet, and Rhatax and Vetrian looked startled. Zared simply leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the hornet's nest his friend and prince had stirred up.
Tritus was the first to make himself heard over his shock and indignation. "With all due respect, my lord, have you taken leave of your senses? Designating a woman as your successor?"
"I assure you, Tritus, I am quite sane." Trey's voice was friendly, but his smile held a bit of an edge to it. "Why should I not designate my sister? She has undergone the same training I have, ever since birth. She is both a capable warrior and a diplomat. And she is certainly of the full bloodline of the Royal family."
"This is highly irregular," Ferin sputtered. "The Gold Ranger powers and the throne have never been held by a woman!"
"Never?" Trey echoed, cocking an eyebrow. "What about Solaria? If I recall my history correctly, Solaria was the youngest child of a king who had only daughters, a priestess of the Golden One. When the forces of the Dark One attacked, and the king was gravely injured, the Golden One and the Triune Lady themselves directed the Golden Powers and heirship to her."
"My lord, that is a children's tale," Ferin replied with dignity.
"A tale it may be," Rhatax rumbled, "but Solaria was real. Historical documents show that. There is a precedent, Ferin." The Rioran noble seemed amused at being able to use Ferin's habits against him.
"Why your sister, lord, when there are many worthy young men in the line of succession?" Tritus wanted to know. "Surely one of them would be ideal."
Trey sighed. "But you see, Tritus, I no longer know which of them I could trust."
"What do you mean by that?" Vetrian asked, speaking for the first time.
"Remember, gentlemen, the powers of the Gold Ranger are more than just battle powers," Trey responded. "They also signify the king of our planet, or at least the heir to the throne. Why stop with having a battle machine, when with those same powers would come control over a good fourth of the galaxy?"
"But the people would not accept an usurper," Zared added, knowing where this was going.
"Exactly. But what if the recipient was not an alien, but a Triforian, a Triforian noble in line for the throne? The Council would see no foul, nor would the people. And the one who arranged all this could simply sit in the background and pull strings at will. You see, my lords, this is why my successor must be my sister. I know that she is capable of this post, for I have trained her myself. And as the one person who would never be considered to take my place, she is the only one of my successors I can fully trust."
All five of his nobles were nodding now, understanding what he said. Then Rhatax rose from his seat. "You have my complete support, my lord, as does your sister."
"Mine too," Zared agreed, rising.
Ferin rose as well, startling Trey slightly. "And mine," he added. Seeing the looks aimed at him, he shrugged and smiled humorlessly. "There is a precedent," he informed them.
"My support goes to you as well," Vetrian remarked, standing. Now only Tritus remained seated, looking at all those around him.
"I just can't," he replied. "It's just not right."
Ferin sighed. "Oh, come off it, Tritus. Look around you. We have women commanding the armies, women commanding gunships, women in every walk of life. And Trialia IS qualified."
An evil smile crossed Trey's face as Tritus still sat. "Well, I have a majority and that's all I need," he informed them. "It's too bad, though, that trade to the province of Midian will have to be halted."
Vetrian startled, then nodded, a respectful smile crossing his face. "Indeed. I'm afraid we can do no business with someone who will not support our leaders."
"Vetrian, I believe your factories can turn out those machine parts we bought from Midian?" Rhatax said blandly.
Zared nodded. "And the fields of Kinyama can certainly supply us all with produce."
"All right," Tritus huffed. "You have my support in this matter, Lord Trey." Raking his fellow lords with a glance, he added, "My full and unstinting support." Then he walked out of the room, too incensed to wait for Trey to dismiss the meeting.
"He'll do it," Ferin assured his prince. "He knows we will cut him off if he doesn't."
Trey smiled. "Thank you, gentlemen. And since Tritus has departed, I think we can declare this meeting adjourned."
The advisors made their way out of the room, Vetrian last of all. "Trey, I wanted to mention one thing to you before I left," the Verdemarian began. "I think your father would be very proud of you today."
"Thank you, Lord Vetrian," Trey bowed. "I certainly hope so."
July 13
You can tell a great deal about a person from their workspace. Decorations, organization, even preferred light level, all of these convey information about the person who likes them. A trained psychologist could give a full psychoanalysis from them.
To the untrained eye, Art Fortunes' studio looked as if a hurricane had hit it. Drawings were plastered all over the walls with no semblance of rhyme or reason. Monsters, weapons, armor, from preliminary sketches to finished products, all of it hung from the walls or drawing boards or lay stacked on every available surface. Even the overstuffed chairs weren't free of the clutter.
As she stood in the door, however, Joyce McCormick saw that Art did indeed have an organizational system, even if it was one only known to himself. He moved unerringly between piles, not disturbing a single sheet of paper. Finally, Joyce couldn't stand it any longer. "Art, how do you FIND anything in this mess?" she asked.
The cartoonist looked up and smiled sheepishly. "It's really not as bad as it looks," he defended himself. "Over here is my early stuff, I mean from before I even started publishing Beetleborgs. Over ~ here~ is the stuff that I came up with during the original run, minus some things that I burned after discovering that this was all real. This is Metallix ideas, and over here are a few things I've come up with, just in case I need to make new powers again. It's mainly conceptual stuff, nothing major yet."
"And- what are you looking for?"
Art shrugged. "That's actually a good question, Joyce. Something that'll help against Shadowborg, but that's not very specific. Oh, look at this." He pulled a drawing out of one of the "Original Run" piles. Crossing to stand beside him, Joyce saw that he held a portrait of four children standing on a hill. Despite Art's somewhat cartoony style, she could easily recognize Jo, Roland, Drew, and Josh.
"When did you do this?" she asked curiously.
"Not long after I got back to my studio after the whole Shadowborg ruckus ended. It just kind of- stuck in my mind." In the drawing, Roland had one hand on Drew's shoulder, and Drew had an arm slung around his little sister. Jo, meanwhile, was looking over at Josh, who was standing a little apart from the group, staring towards the sun, which was setting behind the hills in the distance. "I guess I kept it because it summed up the whole relationship for me."
Joyce nodded. She could see the bonds between the three main Beetleborgs, even in the static drawing. "You know, it seems so strange that you know more about my children than I do," she sighed.
"I wouldn't say that," Art replied, moving a sheaf of papers so that she could sit. "I just know more about one part of their lives."
"Tell me about them," she asked suddenly. "I mean about what they're like as Beetleborgs. And about Roland and Josh, too."
Art raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you volunteered to accompany me on this little expedition?" he asked, clearing a seat for himself as well. Joyce smiled.
"That was part of it," she admitted. "I mean, it was you, Flabber, or Dragon Borg, and I'm just a little more comfortable talking to humans, you know? But we are on the 'buddy system,' thanks to Shadowborg, and I do like being with you, Art. You're an interesting man."
"Well, thank you very much," he grinned. "Now, about the kids…"
Art began to relate his impressions of the Beetleborgs, from the first time they had barged into his office, to the arrival of Nukus, to the rediscovery of Roboborg and the creation of the Mega Spectra powers. Joyce listened in astonishment, wondering how she could have missed such profound changes in her children. With another part of her mind, thought, she was noticing Art's storytelling ability, and how it must have helped to make him a mint in the comic business.
Suddenly the two of them were shocked back to reality by the beeping of the communicators they wore on their wrists. With a sigh, Art tapped his. "Art here. What's up?"
"Shadowborg's been sighted downtown," Justin's voice reported. "You'd better get back to the Power Chamber on the double."
"Be right there." Rising to his feet, Art offered Joyce a hand. "No rest for the weary, huh?" She allowed him to help her up, and the two of them teleported out.
When Art and Joyce arrived in the Power Chamber, they found that most of the defense force had already arrived. JB, Justin, Egon and Ray were working on the computers, while the others were watching the largest viewscreen. "What's going on?" Art asked, turning to Dragon Borg, who stood next to him.
"Shadowborg's wreaking havoc on yet another area of downtown," the Astral Borg replied. "The financial district this time."
"I don't like this," Fred mused. "He's never showed up without a plan. What could he possibly have left to spring on us?"
Drew made a face. "With him and Nukus doing the planning, it could be anything."
"You'd better get out there fast, before somebody gets hurt," Winston informed them.
Jeb growled. "Be careful. Something smells REALLY bad here."
"I say we make this our LAST battle," Josh declared. The rest of the defenders nodded.
"Shift into Turbo!"
"Ecto-Phase Activate!"
"Databonders!"
"Trooper Transform!" The heroes transformed, and then in fifteen flashes of light, teleported to downtown.
"You're history, Shadowborg!" Masked Rider called, catching sight of their quarry.
"I don't think so, Masked Rider," Shadowborg laughed. "Do you actually think you can stand against me?"
Black Trooper stepped forward. "You bet we can!"
Shadowborg simply ignored him, scanning the assembled heroes. His gaze fell on Chromium Gold, and he chuckled. "Back so soon? I'd have thought you'd be cowering in a corner, little boy."
"I'm not going to turn and run from you," Chromium Gold snarled.
"No, you're not afraid of me, are you? And why do you suppose that is? Deep down, you liked being my ally, didn't you? The power, the fear you commanded, you thirst for those things."
"Stuff it," Titanium Silver shot back. "You know that's bull. You're not going to get your hands on him ever again."
"You seem so sure of that, Beetleborg. But you can't really be sure of anything, can you? Not even whether your parents will ever come back to you. After all, if they don't love each other anymore, what's to stop them from just taking off and leaving you behind?"
"You shut up," Titanium Silver snarled. "My parents may be separated, but they still love me! They do!" His voice wavered just a little, though.
"Enough talk," Red Turbo interrupted. "Weapons!" In five flashes of light, the Turbo Rangers' weapons appeared in their hands. "Let's take this guy out."
The fifteen defenders threw themselves to the attack. Dodging a shot from Blue Turbo's Hand Blasters, he blocked a kick from White Trooper, but didn't manage to stop Platinum Purple's punch. It caught him in the chin and sent him reeling. Blue Trooper and Masked Rider double-teamed Shadowborg with swords flashing, only to be knocked away. However, Shadowborg wasn't fast enough to completely dodge the hail of shots White 2, Yellow Turbo, and Chromium Gold were aiming at him. With fifteen opponents, it was becoming obvious that Shadowborg was getting worn down. No matter where he turned, one of the defenders was always in his face, especially Chromium Gold and Electric Bronze, who were fighting like men possessed.
Ducking into a parking garage, Shadowborg found himself face to face with Dragon Borg, the maze of cars preventing any of the others from entering. Shadowborg chuckled, studying his foe. "You pride yourself on being the Beetleborgs' protector, don't you?" the evil Beetleborg sneered. "Some protector. Your three teammates are dead, and your four young charges are as vulnerable as kittens. I could take them away at any time." He chuckled. "Especially Drew. So much pain and anger. It was so easy to make him hate you, you know. After all, you'd failed him. His mother and sister were in danger, and you- weren't- there." The two of them circled, each wary of making the first move. "It'll be a shame to kill him, really. He had such delightful potential. But I suppose I'll enjoy it more this way. Perhaps I'll even let you watch, and listen as he screams."
Dragon Borg's control snapped, and with an inarticulate cry, he threw himself at Shadowborg. The two of them exchanged punches, kicks, and strikes in a furious hand-to-hand whirlwind. Suddenly, in a powerful lunge, Dragon Borg knocked his opponent out of the parking garage and back into the street.
Lashing out with his feet, Shadowborg sent Dragon Borg flying back into his comrades. Getting up, Shadowborg extended his hand, and a black katana appeared in it. "This has been fun, heroes, but it's time to end it now." Throwing himself into the group, he began knocking heroes left and right with punches and kicks, never once using the blade in his hand. It became obvious that he was targeting Blue Trooper, and soon they were locked in a deadly sword battle. None of the others dared interfere for fear of breaking Blue Trooper's concentration.
Suddenly, Shadowborg knocked Blue Trooper's sword from his hand. Another kick sent the exhausted Trooper sprawling on the pavement. Chuckling, Shadowborg raised the katana above his head. "Goodbye, Ryan Steele," he laughed.
"NO!" White 2 cried, throwing herself forward. The sword sped downwards and struck home- directly in her abdomen. The evil blade sheared through the VR Armor as if it weren't there, and White 2 staggered back, clutching her stomach. Then she fell into Blue Trooper's arms, as the other members of the defense force came to surround them. Shadowborg weighed his odds and shook his head.
"Another day, heroes," he grinned. Saluting with the blade in his hand, he disappeared. Then all attention turned to Blue Trooper, still kneeling on the ground holding White 2 in his arms.
"Just hold on, Katie," he was saying. "We'll get you back to the Power Chamber, and you'll be all right."
She shook her head. "No," she replied. "I can feel it- something's happening to me." Indeed, her armor was beginning to flash oddly, and flicker in and out. Blue Trooper looked up helplessly.
"JB, what's happening to her?"
Black Trooper did a scan, and let out a slow breath. "I-"
"Tell me," White 2 said, with some difficulty. "The whole truth."
"Something in that sword disrupted her molecular structure. It's causing her Trooper energies to go into a state of hyper-catabolisis. In short- the powers are eating her alive," he said quietly.
"Can we stop it?" Blue Turbo asked in a low tone. Black Trooper shook his head.
"It's happening too fast. By the time we got her back to the Power Chamber, she'd be gone anyway."
Suddenly White 2's armor faded away, leaving only Katie, staring up at Blue Trooper with half-focused eyes. "Ryan," she whispered.
"Retroform command." In a flash, Ryan Steele was human again, holding Katie in his arms. "Don't try to talk," he murmured. "God, please don't leave me. You have to fight this- I need you too much."
She smiled. "I love you, Ryan Steele. I'm so glad- I got the chance to know you. Even if it had to end this way, I wouldn't change a thing."
Tears were running down Ryan's face now, as the other heroes formed a barrier between them and the street. "I love you too, Katie. God, I'm so sorry. He was going after me- it should have been me!"
"Don't say that!" she managed. "You have to go on! Too many people- love you, Ryan. Your father, JB, Tao, Kaitlin, Jeb, the Professor- Ryan, you must go on. You can't give Grimlord the satisfaction."
Ryan shook his head. "I don't want to live without you," he whispered.
"I am always with you," she replied, raising her hand to his heart. "Here."
"And I'm always with you," he told her. Dropping his head, he kissed her softly. When he pulled back, she smiled.
"Thank you for loving me," she whispered. Then her eyes closed, and her body was still. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then her form began to glow, and slowly dissolved, as the last of her body was consumed by her powers. All that was left was a virtualizer, the crystal cold and lifeless.
"NO!" Ryan's cry echoed throughout downtown, a sound of indescribable anguish. Then he collapsed in a sobbing heap.
"Come on," Masked Rider said quietly. "Let's go." In a flash of light, the heroes disappeared.
"Gotcha!" Parker's hand moved too fast for the eye to follow, catching the little canid's wrist as he attempted to move off into the crowd. "Come on, kid, give me back my wallet," Parker demanded, extending a hand.
The pup examined Parker for a long moment, then dug the wallet out of a pocket hidden somewhere in his rags. "How did you know, mister?" asked the boy, who looked a little like a boxer.
"We've got pickpockets on my planet too, you know," Parker replied, slipping his wallet into an inside pocket in his jacket. "Now beat it, before I call the cops." The kid did as he was told, slipping off into the crowd.
Daystar grinned. "He had pretty good technique," she observed. "How ~ did~ you know?"
"I didn't, exactly," he explained, "but when you spend a lot of time in downtown Angel Grove, you become hyper-sensitive to being bumped, especially in the area you keep your wallet. And when I saw the kid making tracks, I knew I'd been picked."
Daystar grinned. "I bet I could get your wallet without your noticing," she teased.
"You could certainly be very distracting," he grinned back.
The two of them were headed to IGPF Headquarters, while the rest of the party settled into the apartments set aside for Edenite delegations. The streets of Maracha, the capital city, were thronged with people, including a number of pickpockets.
"I grew up in a place like this," Daystar mused. "Stealing from street vendors, keeping one step ahead of the cops. I tell you, Erlion was an interesting place for a kid to grow up. It's a crossroads for nearly every type of being in the Council planets, so I got a real education on galactic culture."
"I would imagine," Parker agreed, snapping a few shots of the full street with his camera. "I'm getting an education of my own."
Daystar suddenly grabbed his wrist and began pulling him to one side of the street. "There's Headquarters."
The building housing IGPF Headquarters was of the more modern white plastic Parker had seen other places on Erlion. Once inside, he found himself treated to a scene at once odd and familiar. Police were bustling everywhere, and he could see a few perps being escorted from place to place. The noise of conversation and machinery hovered over everything. The scene was one Parker had seen a thousand times in AG, and he almost expected Detective Park to come charging over to throw him out.
On the other hand, it was also very different. The officer on duty at the desk resembled a large blob of clear jelly with a nerve center in the middle. Humanoids of various colors and shapes were milling about in the back, and a large orange frog, wearing the star insignia around its neck, hopped past them, ribbiting at Daystar as it went. Parker raised an eyebrow. "Friend of yours?"
"We served on the same ship for a while," Daystar replied. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the captain. I have to report in anyway."
Parker followed her back through the mass of cops, knowing he was drawing a few stares as he went. Soon they came to a door marked with some sort of unreadable calligraphy. Daystar knocked, and the door slid up.
Following Daystar in, Parker saw what appeared to be a large turquoise octopus, sitting on some sort of gel-pad, behind a desk. He looked up at the two of them and made a gargling sound.
"Captain. Translator?" Daystar reminded, tapping the side of her neck. The octopus gargled again, and tapped the side of his head with one tentacle.
"Better?" he asked with sarcastic sweetness.
"Much," Daystar replied in the same tone. "Now I don't have to wear my vocal cords out on that collection of grunts you call a language."
"Your respect for authority always amazes me, Dianthan," the captain grumbled. "However, I suppose it beats you being dead. That's what they told us, you know."
"Who told you? My partner-of-the-day? I suppose they'd think that, seeing as I was caught when that building exploded. No, I was redirected by the Dianth Clan, who were quite happy at the prospect of my execution. Luckily, the Starrunners and some Rangers were in the area, and I got sprung, not to mention a ride home."
"So which is he?" the Selanian asked, pointing a tentacle at Parker.
"Him? Neither. And where are my manners? Captain, this is Parker O'Neil, an Earth reporter along to assist the Earth Ranger team in a mission. Parker, this is Captain Deepjet. Well, that's the best translation we can get. His real name sounds like someone strangling a pipe organ."
"If all you're going to do is stand around my office insulting me, Dianthan, consider yourself debriefed," Deepjet grunted. "Anything else, or are you ready to return to duty?"
"Well, I've got to attend Zordon's trial, but after that…"
"WHAT!" Like Earth octopi, Selanians had the ability to change the color of their skin, usually with emotional response. Before Parker's eyes, Deepjet went from turquoise to a yellow-white, obviously indicating surprise. "Zordon of ELTARE? Nobody told us about this."
"Somebody on the Council has gone to pretty great lengths to keep this under wraps," Parker replied. The other Ranger teams, with the exception of Chelsea and Trey, had all arrived on the planet and begun comparing notes. Quickly, Parker related everything that the four teams had deduced.
Deepjet let out another gargle, sinking down on his gel-pad like a deflated balloon. Parker was puzzled for a minute, before he realized that the translator probably didn't cover cursing. Looking at the expression on Daystar's face, he realized he'd missed a doozy.
"So we've got a Council conspiracy?" Deepjet asked, his color fading to a weary gray. Daystar shook her head.
"No, as far as we can tell, we've got one bad Council member who's very good at pulling strings. The odds aren't good on more than one Council member being rotten. Their screening methods are better than that."
"Argh." The captain rubbed his eyes with two tentacles, fading back to his normal turquoise. "All right, get out of here, both of you. I've got work to do. Daystar, I won't expect to see you until after the trial, all right?"
She nodded. "Right." She and Parker made for the door, only to be stopped by Deepjet's voice.
"And Star-" this time he sounded concerned, "if something's rotten, and you need help, you will call for backup."
"Of course I will, Captain," she replied. "Don't I always?" She continued out the door, but not before Parker heard the captain's muttered response.
"About as often as solar eclipses. Oceans help us all."
"Shit." Lita Kino sagged into one of the overstuffed chairs in the Power Chamber's lounge. Peter, lying on the couch, turned towards her sympathetically.
"How'd it go?" he inquired, already knowing the answer.
Lita made a face. "Lousy. Ryan won't even look at me, Pete. He just sits on his bed and stares off into space. I never thought I'd see anyone more closed off than he was at eight, but I was wrong. How about you?"
"Well, Kaitlin is bawling her eyes out, of course," the Ghostbuster replied, his eyes far away. "It's hit everybody, but to have someone who looks exactly like you die- that's gotta be worse than anything. Still, Rosa and Jo are with her, and at least they're talking. I think she'll be okay, in time."
"How about JB?"
Peter laughed humorlessly. "He's in the gym downstairs, beating the crap out of a punching bag. Winston, Fred, and Franklin are keeping an eye on him, to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Again, I think he'll be able to work through it. He's not bottling it all up."
Lita sighed. "And the rest of the kids are upstairs in one of the side rooms, talking to Art and Joyce. We're all of us in shock, but I think we're going to be able to handle it. It's Ryan I'm worried about. This type of deep grief- it's not healthy. He HAS to open up to somebody. Peter, he won't even talk to Jeb!"
The psychologist sat up. "Where is that dog, anyway? I want to ask him a question."
"I think he's up in the main room. Why? What do you want to ask?"
Peter got to his feet. "Come on, I'll explain when I get there."
Jeb cocked his head. "You want someone he'll talk to, there's only one choice," the Coonhound replied. "His father, Tyler Steele."
Professor Hart nodded. "Tyler will most certainly be able to get through to Ryan. I've never seen any parent and child as close as they are."
"Can you find him for us?" Lita asked Justin. "We'll have to teleport out there and get him."
The