Author's Note: This sets the stage for the "Streaks of Purple" series, the first story arc in a trilogy of Sagas that form the Terran Rangers universe. Be advised, I'm taking a great deal of creative license with the history of the Power Rangers. Goldar is of the species called Titans, dreamed up by my good friend Hellfire.

The Dragon and the Eagle

Part One

A young warrior stood at attention beside the spacious gate of the magnificent steel tower, which soared so high it speared the heavens themselves with its arrow-like peak. His brilliant gold armor reflected the steady light of the lava moat that circled the cold, surgical palace. He felt beads of sweat on his long navy snout, and, truth be told, the intense heat of Phlegethon was intolerable.

However, complaint would be a sign of weakness, and despite temperatures exceeding 300 degrees, he would endure it with his chin held high, and his sword gripped tight.

His attention shifted when a form appeared across the large moat. Keen ruby eyes were able to discern the gold and yellow uniform of the lithe figure, and even the glint of the curved steel hanging from her waist.

A feral smile split his face, allowing yellowed fangs to poke through parted lips.

He stepped away from the wall, and with one mighty thrust, his large feathered wings launched him into the humid air, carrying him safely to the other side.

Once he landed, he flashed his smile at the figure, and nodded his head in deference.

"Welcome back, Scorpina."

The young woman tossed him a flirtatious wink. "My my, Goldar... promoted to Palace Guard duty so quickly! I only last saw you thirty years ago, and you were still in the dungeons."

The Titan warrior grunted at the memory. "As there is no bridge across the moat, only servants with the ability of flight will do. But, if I were only given a chance, I know I would be given command of my own fleet!"

"A general? You do aim high. And I'm sure you shall succeed."

Goldar's smile only widened at the compliment, and he reached his hand to hers. "May I escort you to the Palace?"

She took his offered hand without hesitation. "Please do. And you'd better call someone else to keep guard of the Palace gate. You should hear the news I bring of the Shadow Empire."

Sequestered within his enormous library, the twenty-eighth ruler from the House of Zhept hunched over an ancient grimore. Silver-tipped fingers gently leafed through the tattered pages, and skimmed along the text with purpose.

Somewhere in here must be the key to defeating Umbriel...

The bare muscles of his face folded beneath his platinum grid mask. While so far the Shadow Empire had left Zedd and his relatively small empire alone, that was certainly temporary. Zedd was a young monarch, ruling his native planet Phlegethon and the rest of the solar system after the death of his father. However, the bold young wizard was determined to reach far further than a mere solar system. He was destined to rule the universe... and Destiny can only be delayed for so long.

If only he could find some means to defeat the mysterious magic of the dread High Lord, a god amongst mortals! Without preparing for that certain confrontation, Zedd was wary to venture outside his own system. In fact, with the exception of a handful of spies he sent to scour the universe for secrets, his entire power was contained amongst five meager planets.

He knew that would change soon.

Zedd startled when the sound of heels against cold steel met his ear. His visor flared in crimson fury as twin peaks of silver hair poked from behind a bookshelf.

"How dare you enter my Study!" he growled, his deep voice echoing through the wide chamber. The woman cringed, immediately falling to her knees, casting her maroon gown in an airy bubble around her hidden body.

The young woman bowed her head, humbly touching her forehead to the ground, despite the cumbersome head ornament she wore. However, while her body was bowed with humility, her dark, narrow eyes flashed with indignation and mute defiance.

"My apologies, Lord, for the interruption," she said meekly, "but Scorpina has returned with an update."

The Emperor glared down at the messenger for a moment longer before disregarding her completely. Taking long strides, Zedd marched out of the chamber toward his audience room.

Once his footsteps faded out of earshot, Rita Repulsa rose to her feet, straightening the folds in her gown while casting a furious glare in his direction.

"Spineless, skinless, arrogant..." she hissed under her breath, "Simpleton!"

She fumed as usual, detesting her own fate. She, a crowned princess and trained sorceress, was sold into Lord Zedd's service by her own father in order to cement the treaty between the two empires. Of course Master Vile, despotic ruler of the entire M 51 Galaxy, was in very little danger of facing the Shadow Empire. Several galaxies stood between them.

Still, Master Vile had faith that brash Zedd would eventually establish a foothold in the Milky Way Galaxy, and by creating an alliance with Phlegethon he insured himself a piece of it.

Rita was powerless to defy her father, and was sent to Phlegethon at the signing of a contract. She would serve Zedd faithfully... no matter how detestable and humiliating such service would be. However, she was guaranteed a position of power. She would be his High General, the highest position granted to one outside the royal family. But so far, that position was completely meaningless, and would remain so until Phlegethon attempted to expand.

The Emperor sat in his concrete throne, tapping one hand's fingers against the armrest, while clutching his beloved Z staff in the other. At his nod, the large double doors slowly parted, allowing entrance to Scorpina, who strolled into her master's presence with confidence that could only accompany a tremendous announcement. She was closely followed by Goldar, who stepped to the side and bowed to the throne.

The Arachnid slid to one knee at the base of the throne, elevated over a yard off the ground by a series of concentric, slowly shrinking slabs of black marble.

"Deliver your report," Zedd pronounced, wasting no time with greetings.

"Rumors are flooding over the Empire, my Lord: the High Lord has been defeated. The Eltarian he was hunting assembled an army, called Power Rangers. They have a strange and unknown power source, and were able to slay Umbriel."

If Zedd's hidden jaw were capable of falling to his chest, it would have. Instead, a shocked silence froze the youthful monarch in place, fingers twitching as possibilities swam through his mind.

"The Empire is collapsing," Scorpina related, "The news of the Emperor's defeat, as well as the crumbling of the Earth kingdom, has given hope to hundreds of colonized planets."

Zedd's eyes gleamed as a fierce excitement unlike anything he'd experience swelled within. This is it! Umbriel is dead! Now is my opportunity to sweep in and fill the void of power. The chaos will leave thousands of star systems ripe for the picking!

Rita's high-pitched voice interrupted his musings. "Isn't there a successor to the throne?" she demanded. "I thought Umbriel had a son."

"Filiel has not been accounted for," Scorpina responded, "but even he does not compare to the power of his sire. He is far too young."

"It must be some sort of fluke," Goldar grumbled from his corner. He felt the stares of Zedd and Rita for even raising his voice, but he refused to remain silent. Now was his chance to show his intelligence, and perhaps earn some respect in the eyes of the monarch. "My Lord," he decreed, "Earth is inhabited by a very weak dominant race. They only live some seventy years at most! It has been under the heel of Umbriel for a millennium. How could they rise to defeat him?"

"That Eltarian mage must be pretty powerful," Rita commented.

"Then our first prerogative is to gain control of this... Earth."

All turned to Zedd, expressions of surprise on their faces.

"But Lord... if Zordon and these Rangers are so powerful to defeat the Shadows, what can we do...?" Goldar asked.

"Ah, but Zordon was killed in the battle, as was the leader of the Rangers," Scorpina reported, "The two other Eltarians had died centuries ago, so only six humans remain."

Lord Zedd angled his head toward Goldar. "You say humans live for only seventy years or so?"

"More or less. At least, that is what I have studied."

The Emperor rose to his feet, commanding the undivided attention of all present. "Then we will wait a full century before we attack. Then, the Rangers taught by Zordon will be dirt in the ground. Any new Rangers will lack the mentoring of that Eltarian, as well as any valuable experience in warfare. The planet will be virtually defenseless." His hard gaze turned. "Rita, you will lead the assault on Earth."

A cold smile grew on her lips.

Zedd then turned. "And Goldar, you shall be her general."

Goldar grimaced at the very thought of directly serving the erratic princess of M 51... but it did mean a weighty promotion, and a chance to prove himself to Zedd. "As you command, my Lord."

He tumbled in a strange darkness for an unknown amount of time.

Could it be minutes? Hours? Centuries? More...?

In the vortex, he could not tell time nor space. It was a constant state of dizziness that swallowed all his senses, sending him into a whirling limbo of complete and utter confusion.

In a desperate attempt to keep some hold on sanity, he tried to pull his consciousness out of the present, and dwell upon the past. He recalled the bright morning on O'peth, several years after his rebel unit had hidden themselves there to recuperate after the desolation of most of Eltar. That morning, a surprise guest was received.

The Queen herself.

Zordon was struck by shock at the sight of her. She always stood beside her Lord, cold and contemptuous as she launched attacks at his whim. Now, she looked frail and drawn, her eyes wide with terror and glistening with unshed tears. Her body was still wrapped in bandages drenched with blood, that seeped even onto the armor of the armored hero that carried her... but she refused treatment until she was able to speak.

In her hands, pressed tightly to her chest, was a shard of crystal, gleaming with energy, different colors swirling within.

He would never forget her strained, desperate words. "This is the... key to your survival! Tap the power of this stone... turn its power against Umbriel. Please..."

"Why should we trust you?" one of the King's advisors sneered. "You have much blood on your hands, Lady. You were the one that led the strike against Eltar!"

Zordon had seen the woman's face fall, and felt a pang at her distress. "She led the attack, but she stayed her hand. Had Umbriel attacked directly, there wouldn't be an Eltar any more!"

Zordon's faith that there was truth in the Queen's words was the only thing that stopped his fiercer allies from killing her immediately, or at least sentencing her for her crimes. His wise, convincing arguments stayed the hand of justice.

"Justice is dear to me... you all know that! But survival is even more so! If she can help us defeat Umbriel, and liberate the galaxy, then we must see to her wounds, and postpone her trial. We must use everything at our disposal to find a way to confront his magic!"

That day, centuries upon centuries ago, he earned the trust of the deposed Queen. Over time, he earned her friendship. So when the day of her decision finally came, he was the one she sought.

"Zordon, I can't lead the fight against Umbriel. I don't have the strength... the powers I have mastered have been corrupted by the darkness in my soul. If I use the shard as I am now, I will fall to Umbriel, and nothing will be accomplished. Someone pure, someone good must lead the charge. You must find a way to purify the shard. Change it, Zordon... cleanse the power, focus it, and create a force empowered against Umbriel, and all evil in the galaxy."

And with that, the fair Queen was gone. Never again did she communicate with him. No word was ever given in her behalf. Yet, on the other hand, Umbriel didn't boast her capture. It was as if she had fallen out of the universe.

But her words were never forgotten, and that day began the centuries of effort to take that Crystal shard and transform it into a force for good. With time, he accomplished that feat. He forged the Morphin' Grid, channeling the power of the shard into a form that was uncorrupt. Pure. Safe.

His efforts were blessed by whatever forces governed the universe, for after centuries of war on Earth he managed to lead his team of Power Rangers into the inner sanctum of the High Lord. The battle was bloody and treacherous, spindles of energy floating like thread throughout the chamber. He remembered so clearly that final confrontation... Umbriel's empty eyes mocking him and his children, openly inviting them all into oblivion.

That was his last memory. The rest was obscured with the cobwebs of confusion.

And so he continued to drift, hopelessly lost in an infinite, swirling void.

"Aye yi yi! I'm picking up something!"

The cry roused an elderly man deep within the barracks of the Command Center. He rose from the flimsy mattress with the tenderness of age, and grasped his mangled walking staff with withered fingers. He slowly moved from the room into the darkened hallway, his brilliant blue eyes narrowing to bring the world into focus. After a long journey, he reached the large command chamber, which had served the many teams of Power Rangers over the past millennium in their efforts to defeat the evil Empire.

"Is it Zordon?" he asked hopefully.

"No," the robot answered, pointing to a large sphere seated atop a column, "There's a strange energy signature coming from space!"

The man frowned deeply, moving closer to the Viewing Globe to see for himself. His eyes widened when he realized there was a projectile slicing through the void, leaving an energy trail similar to a comet.

However, it was clearly not a comet, or any other natural object. It was a castle, with large spires piercing the heavens with disdain.

"Are they Imperials?" he asked cautiously, "Perhaps Filiel has decided to reclaim Earth?"

"No... the energy signature is very different. But I don't recognize it."

The man tapped his staff into the ground rhythmically. "We cannot take any chances. I shall not allow another iron grasp to squeeze my planet into submission."

The robot looked at the aged man, clearly astounded by his passion. "What do we do?"

He hobbled back towards his room, determination lighting his eyes with fire.

Each step was more difficult to take than the previous. Still, despite the pain that burned in his atrophied limbs, he traversed the hills at his own pace.

The moment his eyes fell upon a small stone house, lined with rich purple blossoms that reached to the heavens, and banking a small pond covered with white petals that coasted through the spring air, years melted from his face.

Fond memories flooded his consciousness. Of playing near the small pond as a child, tossing his little sister Jen'ha into the still waters. Of reading from the leather bound grimore he'd unearthed near the High Lord's palace once, after returning home from the rock quarry where he served at a tender age.

That was where he sat some eighty years ago- on a large flat slab of rock beside the pond, reading his treasured book- when he was Called. At fourteen years of age, he encountered a kindly, pale-faced man searching for a worthy replacement for a treasured warrior who had fallen.

That very day, he surrendered his simple but peaceful life as a slave and aspiring scholar. After all, what the stranger offered him was too much to turn down. Freedom from the slave pits. The power to make a difference, in his life and the lives of his loved ones. The resources necessary to learn magic, beyond the few small spells in the leather volume he owned.

"Erol! If you don't stop splashing me, I'll turn you into a toad!"

"Not likely, Kreia! You don't have that kind of magic!"

The old man's smile stretched at the sounds of jubilant laughter that could only mean youth. He slowly rounded the house, coming in fuller view of the pond. There, he saw a young girl, clearly no more than fifteen or so, with flowing ashen blonde hair moistened with water. She was giggling hysterically, her fair skin flushing as she rolled off the flat boulder she was seated upon, desperately gripping an ancient book to her chest. She cradled the book as if it were an infant, taking cover behind the boulder and peaking out from the side with midnight eyes.

Her tormentor was a boy, with a short crop of soaked ebony hair. He waded in the pond, green leaves from the tree falling upon his head as he continued throwing his arms into the waters, forcing waves of water to crash into his playmate.

The boy then stopped his game, creeping lower into the water until he was shoulder-deep in the pool. His eyebrow arched predatorily as he waited for his victim.

"Erol?" she called, slowly stretching her neck to view the water. She gasped in shock as a particularly large spray of water hit her directly in the face, throwing her back in surprise and forcing her to sputter out the liquid she swallowed.

"HA!" he mocked, falling back into the pool and surrendering to his gleeful victory. Kreia growled fiercely, roughly pushing her matted waves out of her eye.

"I warned you!" she shouted, lifting her fingers. She began slowly bending her slender fingers in an intricate dance, weaving invisible magical strands between them.

Suddenly, the still water leapt to life, tossing the helpless boy out of the pool to crash clumsily on the grassy shore.

Erol coughed, spitting up a mouthful of water and slicking his hair from his soft green eyes. He shook his head in a desperate attempt to orient himself.

Kreia smiled with devilish delight, kneeling on the grass in front of her friend.

"I warned you," she leered.

He smirked. "Well, I was right," he maintained, "You can't turn me into a toad."

She responded with a mock cackle, throwing back her golden mane with a toss of her head. "Not yet."

She helped him to his feet, and carefully brushed away the droplets of water that splashed her ancient book. "Let's get you cleaned up."

As the youths turned toward the modest cabin, the girl's head cocked to the side, a flash of movement catching her eye.

"What's wrong?" Erol asked, following her gaze.

"I... I thought I saw something," she whispered, turning her full body, "By the cabin."

"You can see me," a disembodied voice noted, a hint of surprise in his tone. "I am impressed."

The girl's raven eyes turned toward the sound, and stared at the faint ripple of purple energy that slowly approached. In panic, she stepped back behind the young man, whose genial face folded into a threatening frown. He pushed Kreia further behind him, and grabbed a fallen tree branch from the grass beneath him.

"Where is it?" he asked her, his hard jade stare boring into the empty space that captured his friend's attention.

Before she could respond, the faint purple ripple grew stronger, entering the visible spectrum and startling both youths with its luster. The boy's grip on his makeshift weapon tightened, despite the feeble appearance of the intruder.

The aged man smiled gently at both youths, yet his attention was clearly focused upon Kreia. Considering no human had formal magical training beside himself, her perception was phenomenal.

"You need not fear me," he assured them, raising his hands to demonstrate his peaceful intentions, "I only intended to return home, and when I saw you both, I was curious."

"Return home?" she repeated, her brow furrowing, "But... my family has lived on this land for generations!"

"Who are you?" Erol demanded.

The man kept his gaze on the girl, who still trembled slightly in fear of this entire situation. His warm eyes fell from her overwhelmed gaze to the ancient book she clung to.

"I used to sit by this very pond, reading that grimore with the avid curiosity of a natural student," he revealed, "My name is Regita of the Uru-Nenyin household."

Kreia gasped. "Th...that's impossible! Regita disappeared long before my mother was born! The Empire killed him!"

His smile softened as he shook his head. "No. I was brought into the service of the Power Rangers."

Erol gazed at the aged man with wonder, tinted with distrust. "The Power Rangers? Who liberated the planet seventy years ago?"

"How can you possibly still be alive?" Kreia asked incredulously, "Regita was older than my great-grandmother Jen'ha, and she died before I was even born. She lived a long life, too."

At the mention of his sister, Regita gazed at the girl before him with new appreciation.

After all... Zordon did mention that magical potency is in some ways a heritable quality. Just like certain aspects of intelligence or appearance can be passed down, certain brain patterns were more adept to learning magic than others. Therefore, it was entirely possible that his great-grand niece had a similar construction, making it possible for her to recognize magic without being formally trained.

Kreia frowned with discomfort at Regita's intense stare. Erol gazed at her worriedly, finally stepping between them and fixing the old man with a suspicious glare.

"How can you be alive?" he repeated, his tone severe. "Regita would be a hundred years old. No one can live that long!"

"One hundred-nineteen, actually," Regita corrected with a humored grin. "Magic can do wonders."

Kreia's eyes widened with heightened interest at the statement. "Magic?" she repeated with awe, "As in real magic? Not just little tricks?"

Regita pointed at the book she clutched so strongly. "That text formed the foundation of a lifetime of intense study under Zordon of Eltar, the savior of Earth. It was part of my training. And now, seventy years after the war was won, the Power Rangers are needed again." He fixed the girl with a pleading gaze. "Can I count on you?"

Her lip trembled, and for once she met Regita's intense gaze without stepping back in fear. He seemed so sincere... she could sense his desperation and honesty almost as easily as she could sense his presence earlier.

Of course, the possibility wasn't lost upon her that this was all a trap. But what would an evil alien have to gain by abducting her... just another young girl, one of a thousand such girls to reside in the remains of the Imperial capitol?

Meanwhile, Erol stared in astonishment as Kreia obviously considered the proposal. "You're not serious!" he declared.

"Time is of the essence," Regita revealed, "As we speak, a new force approaches Earth. I must assemble the Power Rangers, just in case we are in danger of attack. You, Kreia, have a magical awareness exceedingly rare in humans. I am certain that, with training, you will be an able mage, and a worthy Ranger."

Kreia brightened at the very notion. "Me? A Power Ranger?"

Regita nodded. "Yes. And together, we must find six more worthy individuals. I must count on you to help me find them, for the situation is pressing."

As if instinctively, both turned to Erol, who blinked at the sudden attention.

"What?" he demanded.

"I can count on you," Kreia stated, gazing at him imploringly, "Right?"

Erol fell silent, suddenly lost in the depth of those pleading midnight eyes. The typically exuberant girl rarely displayed such a passion... it was impossible to resist.

Finally, he nodded. "Where you go, I go."

A young man gazed at the crystal blue waters, the strong sea air weaving through his long, sandy blonde hair. Hard sapphire eyes pierced the matching sea, narrowing slowly at the sign of motion.

"Here," he said, stopping the rhythmical motion of rowing. Beside him on the small wooden boat, a middle-aged man also paused his oar, a smirk growing on his face.

"You always sound so sure of yourself, Zale," he commented, watching the tall, sturdy young man rise. He then stood, helping him to cast the large net into the bobbing waters.

"Confidence is half the battle. You taught me that, Father."

Ich'ni smiled with pride at his only child... something to be proud of indeed. Handsome, sharp, strong, brave... young Zale had all the qualities of a good man. Also, his skill at fishing assured his family would always eat well.

As the pair carefully lowered the net into the waters, the winds picked up, causing the boat to rock more violently. Zale's eyes narrowed as he glared up at the sky, which suddenly grew overcast with a thick grayish cloud cover.

"By the gods..." he whispered, his jaw slowly dropping.

Ich'ni stared upwards, his lips quivering. "Zale! Get down!"

Both men fell to the bottom of the boat, clutching the sides with all their might as a thunderous roar erupted from the sky. The waves crashed violently, until the small boat was overwhelmed by the agitated sea. Zale and his father screamed as the boat capsized.

Whizzing high above was a structure, slicing through the heavens en route to the mainland.

A pair of dark almond-shaped eyes swept through the dense foliage with the intensity of sunlight on a summer's afternoon. The gaze was attracted to the gentle rustling of leaves on a lush bush nearby.

To the common observer, the faint swaying would melt in with the rest of the forest, bending lazily to the summer breeze. Yet this was no common observer.

A body, powerful yet lithe, slunk between bushes like a serpent. The fierce gaze remained focused, cutting through shrubbery like a knife's sharp edge.

Finally, after creeping behind a large oak tree, the gaze fell upon its target: a delicate doe, lapping at a small creek of fresh water.

The stag paid the hunter no heed, not even when a razor sharp spear reflected the sunlight that pierced the dense forest.

However, a heartbeat before the spear darted from the hunter's hand, the stag jerked its head, turning toward a faint sound.

The animal moved just enough to avoid doom.

The stag reacted quickly to the spear that just missed its chest. It scampered into the foliage, disappearing between swaying branches.

The hunter muttered quietly, stepping out from his hiding space. His skin, naturally pale but tinted with the healthy tan of summer, glistened with a mist of sweat from his athletic endeavors. His only clothing was a pair of loose pants, cropped just beneath the knee and held on his waist by a coarse rope. His flowing jet-black hair was tied near the top of his head with a similar rope, and dangled just past his shoulder.

The man's almond eyes focused downstream. In that direction, a very soft sound silenced the babbling stream, surely loud enough to attract his prey's attention earlier.

"Sener," he groaned, pulling the spear out from the tree.

A young man played his stringed instrument serenely, his head bobbing gently to the tune that sailed from his strumming fingertips. His eyes were closed, and his short crop of dark chocolate curls, just a few shades darker than his milk chocolate skin, fluttered along with the leaves in the tree in which he took refuge.

He felt inspired by the gentle roll of the creek below, and accompanied its whisper with his own composition.

His dreamlike reverie was interrupted by a sharp hissing sound, and a powerful gust of air. Startled, he sat up, his eyes darting in the direction of the sound.

His throat closed when he saw a wooden arrow embedded in the tree trunk he leaned upon. There was only about an inch of space between his nose and the weapon.

He jerked back, momentarily forgetting his location. Losing his balance upon the branch, he tumbled to the ground, shrieking as he crashed into the grassy knoll beneath him.

He sputtered the grass that had filled his mouth, and lifted his head. His jaw set at the pair of leather sandals and powerful legs that stood just in front of him.

"What in the name of the gods do you think you're doing, Kazu!!" the young man shrieked, falling into a sitting position. He stared up at the imposing warrior, who stood firmly with a bow in one hand and spear clutched in the other. The glaring frown he wore was enough to strike fear into the hearts of most of the inhabitants of Gateway City.

But Sener knew better.

"I was hunting my family's evening meal," Kazu barked, "until it fled from me."

Sener blinked in surprise. No prey could ever escape the greatest hunter in the known world.

"It ran?" Sener breathed in disbelief.

"Rather, it fled from you, and your noise."

Sener cringed at the insult, rising to his full height. While still several inches shy of the warrior, and easily half the muscle mass, his gait harbored none of the intimidation others would feel in his position.

"My music is not noise," Sener defended, "and I do not find your insults at all worthy of you. My artistic pursuits are not a waste!"

Kazu remained firm. "What do they serve? Your sculptures hold no water, your songs do not fill stomachs."

"The gods gave you a sharp eye and fast hands. They gave me insight into the hearts of men and women."

Kazu smirked. "Let's see that insight put food on-"

The argument, which was only a reprise of their regular encounters, was interrupted by an earthshaking roar from the clouds. Both men stumbled to the ground, watching in horrified shock as animals and birds rushed from the west.

Kazu was the first to recover his bearings, and he quickly grabbed the artist's arm. "Move!" he growled.

Both youths tore through the trees and bushes, carefully avoiding stampeding animals.

Slicing through the air above, a large stone castle approached the ground, nestling itself into the heart of the dense forest.

"This is so... incredible," Kreia breathed, her grip tightening on Erol's hand.

After the lengthy hike the two youths had endured, they finally entered the palatial structure hidden high in the cliffs near the ocean. They were awed by the refuge, its tower reaching for the heavens, and its heavy walls leaving no entrance to be invaded.

Their awe only began at the exterior. Once they were allowed into the secret entrance, their amazement defied description.

The large chamber within was intricate, with metallic tables forming a circular pattern near the center. On those tables shone infinite colored lights, and a variety of odd designs and small raised cubes.

The ring of metal tables also held another monument: a large cylinder, apparently composed of glass connected to circular metal podiums at its base and peak. Within the cylinder sat a bed of crystals, and a strange smoke seemed to fill the area within.

The entire chamber was dark, with lights like stars on the ceiling and floor. It was, in a word... unearthly.

"Where are we?" Erol questioned.

Regita smiled at their confounded expressions before heading toward a narrow tunnel leading to another chamber. "Alpha, introduce them to the Command Center," he instructed.

Erol and Kreia traded bewildered glances. "Alpha?"

"Present!" a child-like voice called, startling the pair. They both turned to the direction of the voice, which seemed to emanate from the black wall beyond the ring of metal tables. A piece of the wall slid away, revealing a short creature plated with metals of crimson, blue, and gold.

The creature scampered towards the thunderstruck pair. "I am Alpha V," he greeted, bowing lightly, "Welcome to the Command Center of Zordon of Eltar."

After several moments of silence, Kreia stepped forward, reaching her trembling hand toward Alpha. She gently touched the hard metal head, and jerked her hand back immediately.

"What are you?" she asked, "Some kind of sprite?"

Incredibly, he giggled. "No. I am an automaton, created by King Lexion of Edenoi. I am the fifth of the Alpha line, the first series of fully-sentient assistant computers in the galaxy."

"Computer?" Erol repeated, his brow furrowing.

Although Alpha could make no facial expressions, the humans could somehow feel his amusement. "I am... an alien. That's close enough."

There was no sense in explaining further, and that answer seemed enough for the young pair.

Erol then stepped forward, gazing at the incredible chamber with even greater interest. "All this is alien," he noted, a chill causing him to shudder, "Like... the High Lord."

Alpha was quick to disagree. "No! This was Zordon's sanctuary, and the home of all the Power Rangers. We fought, and defeated, the invasion force."

Erol frowned as a new question dawned on him. "Why are you still here? The Empire is dead. You just can't leave mankind alone, can you?"

"Erol!" Kreia scolded.

"We remain because we know the battle isn't over," Regita said, appearing from the back rooms with a wooden box in his free hand, "The Empire was the greatest evil in the cosmos, but evil can never be forever defeated. There is always the threat that someone else may fill the void. And that is why we remain... in case someone does. And someone may have."

He paused, leaning his walking stick against a console and holding the box in offering. "There have been scores of Power Rangers before you," he noted, "Most had died in battle. All sacrificed their family lives, for fear of endangering loved ones. All Rangers must disappear from Gateway City, and remain here in the Command Center. Always on duty, always striving to learn and grow so as to defend the world all the better. Once the Power is taken, it cannot be returned until the battle is over."

He then opened the ornate box, etched with animal pictures on all panels. Within, lying on a white pillow, lay seven glittering gold coins arranged in a pentagon with two in the center. Each coin had a different image, all of animals made legendary by the Rangers of earlier generations.

"Once you choose a Power Coin, you accept the duty of being a Ranger," Regita explained, "Take your pick."

Kreia stepped forward, thoughtfully considering each possible coin. After several moments, she selected one of the central coins.

Regita couldn't help but smile. "You have selected the Eagle, Kreia. You will be the Purple Ranger, as I was a lifetime ago."

Kreia smiled at that. She hadn't even known which Ranger Regita had been, but somehow a force she couldn't explain drew her to the winged creature.

Erol's jaw set. "Which is Green?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I know something of the Power Rangers," he related, "and I do recall that the Purple and Green Rangers were unique. They fought side by side as if they were somehow separate from the other five. They are a team within a team."

He then turned to Kreia. "If you are the Purple Ranger, then I must be your partner."

Kreia broke eye contact, trying her best not to blush.

Regita's gaze passed between the youths before pointing to the Dragon coin. "Then here is your coin, Green Ranger."

The moment the coin touched Erol's finger, an incredible earthquake besieged the Command Center. All within collapsed to the ground helplessly as the alarms began screaming to life.

"Aye yi yi!" Alpha shrieked, rising to his metal feet, "The palace has landed!"

"Where exactly?" Regita demanded, allowing Kreia and Erol to help him stand.

"Three miles east of Gateway City. I really can't detect anything else."

Dread darkened Regita's eyes. "We shall soon see their intention."

Rita Repulsa stood on the marble balcony hanging from the highest tower of the palace, glaring down upon the world that would soon crumble under her heels. An array of animals squirmed beneath the protective canopy of lush trees, swaying in the cool breeze. The gentle warmth of the afternoon sun irradiated the sky, coaxing the gaseous atmosphere to glow a stunningly rich shade of blue. White puffs of clouds lazily streaked the sky, floating on cushions of air.

Rita inhaled the crisp atmosphere, and snorted her disgust. "By all that is evil, this planet is hideous! I wonder what Umbriel saw in this dump?"

Still, despite its stomach-churning sweet air and blindingly bright colors, this backwater mudball was her salvation.

Finally, she was free. No more obnoxious boy-king hovering over her shoulder, berating her just for the fun of it. No more opulent ceremonies, designed to humiliate her by forcing a renewal of her vow to serve him with all her strength. It was obvious how much the would-be emperor loved the idea of having a royal princess under his heel.

But no more. She was out of his jurisdiction. She was light years distant, free to make her own tactical decisions.

And she even had subjects! Of course, one decent warrior, a shriveled up old scientist, and two peons weren't exactly a mighty army... but what a triumph it would be to defeat the former throne of the Shadow Empire with such a flimsy team! She would be praised for her own merit!

Perhaps she could even prove to her father that she was more than just a second child. Or even better... show up Zedd, and earn some respect from the skinless blowhole.

Rita then turned on her heel, her brown-swathed form swallowed by the sharp darkness of her throne room. Her arms crossed, she glared down her nose at the quartet of servants chosen to accompany her.

Finster, the goat-like scientist, bowed humbly before the princess, and was mimicked begrudgingly by Goldar and uncomprehendingly by Squatt and Baboo. With a devilish smirk splitting face, Rita glided to her iron throne... noticeably perched on a marble dais higher than Lord Zedd's on Phlegethon.

"As you all know, this is not Phlegethon. So from now on, my rules will govern our activities on this planet," she stated, resting her elbows at her sides. The announcement was met by a smile from Finster, awed gazes from Squatt and Baboo, and a glare from Goldar.

She continued. "This is my palace, and you are all my servants. You shall all address me as Queen Rita, and soon I shall be monarch of this entire planet."

Goldar blinked incredulously. "Lord Zedd never granted you such authority."

His ruby eyes narrowed at the furious glare Rita threw at him. "Zedd is half a galaxy away," she muttered, "He can play 'Emperor' when he hauls his metal-butt out here. Until then, I'm in charge!" She sat pensively for a moment. "And another thing... from now on, you are all forbidden to even utter his name. Lord Zedd does not exist here."

Goldar was speechless. Never in the royal court of Phlegethon did Rita even hint at her animosity toward the Emperor.

The loyal Titan didn't know quite how to respond. But his situation was quite clear: for now, he served Rita.

He snarled silently, cursing his predicament.

Rita then rubbed her palms together with building excitement. "Let the carnage begin!" she declared. "I've purposely set my palace right outside the bounds of Shadowgate, Umbriel's former capitol city. If there is any resistance at all on this dump of a planet, it'll be there."

She then turned her razor gaze to Goldar. "You will patrol the city. Let them know that any who oppose my reign will be vaporized."

Her dark eyes slid to Finster. "Your Monster-Baking is renowned throughout Phlegethon," she noted, "Do not disappoint me."

Finster bowed deeply. "I have a new design for easy-bake foot-soldiers. They require minimal bake time and supplies, and can absorb a great deal of damage unharmed. I call them Putty Patrollers."

Rita nodded. "Perfect. Make a few batches to aid Goldar in his conquest."

Finster bowed once again before leaving to his laboratory.

Rita then turned her attention to the goofy pair hovering by the throne. "You two will go with Goldar."

Squatt blinked. "But... but... we don't fight!"

Rita's eyebrow rose as Baboo nodded in agreement. "Then what do you do?"

Squatt shrugged. "We were jesters in Lord Zedd's court..."

"...well, we tried to be," Baboo corrected.

Rita glowered at the pair. "Jesters? Why would Zedd send jesters with me?!"

Goldar snickered openly at the self-proclaimed queen's bewilderment.

"Fine," she grunted, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Go... clean up the dungeon. We'll need it in top shape in case Goldar does find any humans worth preserving."

"Kazu? Kazu!" Sener shouted, jumping over a fallen tree. His head jerked at a hissing sound from above.

"Sh!" the hunter whispered from within a steady tree. He then beckoned the musician to join him.

Sener struggled up the broad tree, and planted himself beside Kazu. He peered in the direction Kazu was staring, and his jaw dropped.

Marching through the wood, razing the remaining forest before them, was a countless army of gray shapes, their faces wrinkled like moist clay. They marched in uniform, in perfect synchrony.

"By the gods..." Sener whispered.

"There is a gold creature with wings leading them," Kazu noted, "He's a few paces ahead."

Kazu's eyes narrowed at the large structure that had flattened a good quarter mile of the forest. "They must have come from the castle."

Sener watched the countless creatures pass. "It is most definitely an army."

Kazu nodded, a smirk pulling at his narrow lips. "Then I shall face the army."

Sener stared in bewilderment as Kazu leapt from the tree. Sener scrambled to catch up, and watched as Kazu pulled his spear from the earth he left it in.

"Are you possessed?!" Sener screeched, chasing after Kazu as he raced in the direction of Gateway City, "There are far more than a hundred gray soldiers, and their leader! What can you do against them?"

Kazu kept running. "They are headed for the city, and they move too quickly for us to overtake. However, if I challenge them, perhaps I can slow their progress enough for you to reach the city first, and alert everyone to the impending danger."

Sener gasped as Kazu thrust the heavy weapon into his grasp. "But... I can't leave you!"

"You can," Kazu stated, "and if you encounter any troops, you can defend yourself with the spear."

"But you..."

"I have my bow," Kazu reminded him, pulling the weapon off his back, "as well as a dagger and my bare hands. I shall be fine."

Sener watched helplessly as Kazu raced up a tree. He aimed carefully, launching three arrows at once. The three arrows struck the head of one soldier, causing it to crumble into ashes.

"Magic," Sener whispered, before finally breaking into a run, "I must warn Gateway City!"

While the Putty Patrollers were not equipped with the ability to speak, they did generate a harsh, gurgling sound that Goldar found completely disgusting. In addition, they were made of clay, meaning they were soft, pliable, and easily dissolved.

He took a moment to pray to the Titan god of storms that it did not rain.

At least I have an infinity of soldiers, Goldar assured himself, glancing back at his endless armada. Surely the Humans will simply run in fright...

Crimson eyes narrowed as something streaked from a tree just outside the razed ground the army trampled.

Whatever it was, it struck the army, increasing the gurgling sound.

In one deft motion, Goldar beat one wing, turning completely around. He sliced through the air, pulling himself above the tree in question.

Pointing his enormous broadsword at his target, a stream of gold flames fired from the tip. The flames climbed the tree at a devastating speed, forcing a sturdy form to fall from the branches.

Goldar's feral growl converted into a smirk as the short creature threw a hateful glare at him, before he pounced onto the army nearby, armed only with a short dagger about the length of Goldar's hand.

"Pitiful," Goldar grunted, watching from above. Surprisingly, the Human was not yet dead. He savagely defended himself, whirling around and striking off arms and legs of nearby Putties.

Goldar decided to study the warrior more carefully. The human's narrow eyes glinted with bloodlust, and his body, while frail compared to Goldar's, was toned through use. He also proved to be quite nimble on his feet, especially considering the lack of wings.

His neck was adorned with a chain of white teeth, and similar strings of animal skin decorated his body like trophies.

A hunter, the Titan recognized. Likely a great hunter. But even the greatest of hunters can not survive against such odds.

Sure enough, the Human's swift, agile movements became slower and clumsier with time.

"Finish him," Goldar pronounced. With the death sentence delivered, the Titan turned, and in a mighty trust of his powerful wings he catapulted himself towards the city once again. The majority of the army followed, save for a handful of Putties who continued to beat their heavy arms against the Human.

Kazu was now disarmed, as his dagger disappeared within the body of one of the clay creatures. He had lost his bow in the fire of the tree, leaving him with only his bare hands.

Despite the rivulets of blood that forced him to close one eye, Kazu smiled viciously.

If Putty Patrollers were capable of exhibiting fear... they certainly would have.

"I am far from helpless, Creatures," Kazu spat, his voice deep and rumbling like a tiger growl, "I still have the advantage."

One mighty kick from a Putty, delivered with precise aim to the back of his knee, brought the mighty warrior to the ground.

"Stop!" a voice cried, distracted the Putties enough to turn away from their victim.

Sener dashed madly at the assembly, holding his spear toward the nearest Putty. The magical creation couldn't move in time, and only watched blankly as the razor tip plowed through its chest.

Sener blinked in surprise, releasing the spear in horror. The Putty stared at him with its hollow eyes as it pulled the weapon from its skin. The clay shifted to fill the hole as if it had never existed.

Sener gasped, stumbling away as several Putties followed him.

Kazu watched in stupefied horror as the impaled Putty rammed the spear into Sener's abdomen.

"No!" the hunter bellowed. He used his powerful body like a battering ram, plowing into the assembled Putties at once.

Kazu's teeth gnashed in blind fury as he carefully collected the quivering body of his friend. Ignoring the thick blood that flowed freely onto his own skin, he leaned Sener against his chest, and dashed back into the dense canopy of the remaining forest.