Zhane of the Free Systems squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember a time when he hadn't been "Zhane of the Free Systems." A time when he hadn't even been "Zhane of KO-35." A time when all he cared about was the wind off the water and the likelihood of picking up paying work on any given day.

It was like being reincarnated, he decided, lying there on his back in the middle of a huge bed in a darkened room. He had never expected to leave KO-35, had never given much thought to anything past the next job or the most recent party. Until he'd met the Red Astro Ranger, lost his entire world to advancing armies of evil, and retreated to the League capitol to make their last stand in a war-torn universe.

Who had he been back then? A surfer kid, a beach bum; someone who lived for today, tried not to think too much about tomorrow, and didn't remember as much as he should about yesterday. Now he was a super-powered soldier on the front lines of a war that hadn't even existed when he met Andros. He was years and several galaxies away from his old life now.

The door whispered open, and he turned toward it without opening his eyes. Andros. Damn, that telepathy thing was weird. He opened his eyes and regarded the silhouette in the doorway, clearly hesitating over the lights. "I'm awake," Zhane said quietly. "Just thinking."

The lights came up partway, and Andros allowed the door to close behind him as he stepped into the room. "What about?" he asked, his voice no louder than Zhane's.

Zhane offered a half-smile. "How we got here, what we're doing, that kind of thing. Just waiting for you, really. Is Ash okay with all of this?"

Andros sighed. "Seems like it," he muttered, frowning down at the floor. "She says, after spending all that time with Astronema, she can go anywhere."

"Even an occupied planet on the edge of nowhere?" He didn't really have to ask, but he knew Andros was thinking it.

The Red Ranger just nodded wordlessly. Ashley was the logical contact person for the Earth resistance, and on top of that she had volunteered. As far as anyone could tell, she wanted to go. It was just that none of them particularly wanted to let her.

"Carlos is going as far," Andros said suddenly, as though he knew what Zhane was thinking.

"Yeah," Zhane agreed. They would have to replace both Rangers immediately, and it was going to make the Earth Rangers' patrol hell. "And he'll be farther from the fighting than any of us. Why waste worry on him?"

The hint of a smile touched Andros' face, acknowledging Zhane's flippant remark for what it was: an effort to comfort. He wandered over to the bed and dropped heavily down on the nearest side, sitting with his back to Zhane for a long moment. "It's going to be all right," he said at last. "This is the right thing to do."

Zhane pushed himself up on his elbows, regarding Andros with concern. Just like the rest of them, he had a public face and a private one. But Andros had been so much more peaceful lately, more at ease with what events had made of him. Zhane hated to see him lose that.

"I'm convinced," he offered softly.

Andros sighed, turning to look at Zhane over his shoulder. "Thank you," he said simply.

Zhane smiled. The Red Ranger's uncanny understanding of battles and their outcomes, far in advance of their actual conclusion, was something he had long ago accepted about his friend. Andros knew things. His ability to predict military engagements was uncontested, and as far as Zhane was concerned, this latest strategic vision was different only in scale.

"No reason to start doubting now," Zhane said quietly.

It was Andros' turn to smile, and he turned to pull his legs up onto the bed. "You're the only reason I still believe," he confessed, his eyes burning into Zhane's.

Zhane didn't flinch. "You're the only reason I ever believed," he replied.

His lover reached for him, and they reaffirmed the only belief that mattered.

It couldn't get any worse.

That was what she told herself, the mantra she had repeated over and over until she found herself outside a door she had never allowed herself to visit before. Stupid. They were so stupid, letting this hang over them. She could make that decision for herself--but not for anyone else.

Cassandra pressed the chime set into the wall outside the Elisian Rangers' apartment. Relations between their teams couldn't get any worse. She couldn't get any lonelier. And she couldn't have any less of him than she had right now. There was no reason to try to hold onto a situation that was deteriorating almost daily.

She could do nothing and watch it continue to fall apart, or she could do something and take the chance of blowing it up... or maybe, just maybe, fixing some of what had gone wrong. She was so tired of being powerless. She was tired of letting guilt dictate her actions.

Most of all, she was tired of being alone.

Cassandra knew the door would open before it did, she sensed the approach of the person who lived in her mind from inside the apartment. It was late by both their schedules. She wouldn't have blamed him for not coming to the door at all. Even--maybe especially--when he knew who was on the other side as well as she did.

The door opened. Saryn stood there, dressed in comfortable, wrinkled clothes that had clearly been slept in but nonetheless bore the Elisian Ranger logo on the sleeve. It was as close as any of them came to pajamas, she guessed. The shirt she wore to bed had her Ranger insignia on it too. All of them had to recognizable at a moment's notice.

"Saryn." She didn't even mean to say it, but at the sight of him the words tumbled out and she couldn't stop them. "What the fuck are we doing?" she whispered. Staying away from each other. Pretending there was nothing there, pretending that they deserved this. That anyone deserved this.

He just stared back at her, his eyes an impenetrable echo.

Cassandra swallowed. She had no right to expect anything from him. "Is Jenna here?" she asked, trying to raise her voice to a more normal level and failing miserably.

Almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

She took a deep breath, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. "I want to talk to her."

That startled him. Though he gave no indication, she could feel surprise and fear as though they were her own. He didn't say anything, and the moment stretched out. He wouldn't keep her away, would he? She had thought she and Jenna could be friends, back before all of this started. Before they realized that it had started the first time they saw each other.

Without a word, Saryn stepped out of the doorway, inviting her inside. There was only one light on in the room behind him, a small mood light that he must have touched on his way to the door. She walked into the dimness hesitantly. She had never seen this place before, this apartment that he shared with his... lover? Ex-lover? They still lived together. But he hadn't asked about TJ, and she hadn't asked about Jenna.

Jenna. The Pink Elisian Ranger stood on the other side of the room, hands arranged carefully on the chair in front of her, her face shrouded in the shadows cast by the lamp. She was out of direct line of sight from the front door, invisible until one actually entered the apartment. Cassandra had to assume that was intentional, that Saryn had told her who was at the door and she had come to see for herself.

"Hi, Jenna," she said, wary of the other woman and not at all sure that determination would be enough. She had no idea what kind of reception to expect. "Can I... talk to you for a minute?"

She saw Saryn's gaze go to Jenna. She wondered what he could sense from her. That was what it meant to be an empath, right? He knew what they were feeling? This would be a lot easier if he wasn't here, she thought with a sigh. She barely knew what to say as it was, and having his reactions on top of her own wouldn't help.

"Saryn," Jenna said carefully. Her voice was neutral, as impassive as her face. "Would you give us some time?"

Cassandra stared at her, trying frantically to remember what they had told her about empaths. It was common on Elisia? Could Jenna tell what she was feeling too? Was that good or bad? The other Ranger would know she was telling the truth, right? But was the truth good enough anymore?

She knew the answer to that. She had the truth, after all. And it wasn't good enough.

She could see Saryn looking from one of them to the other. He was obviously torn, and Jenna could see it as well as she could. Where did his loyalties lie? If they both wanted this conversation, who was he trying to protect? Would he argue with either of them?

Cassandra didn't want to see him decide, but she couldn't beg him to just go, either. Jenna had asked. He could go or stay with minimal damage either way. But if Cassandra asked, just the asking would imply something. And if he went then, and not before...

Saryn nodded once. It was an abrupt movement, and a silent one. He had yet to say anything, and it didn't look like that was about to change. He turned and crossed the room without a word. He disappeared into a darkened room, and the door closed behind him a moment later.

They both watched him go. Then Jenna turned to her and asked politely, "Can I get you anything? Something to drink?"

Cassandra's gaze snapped back to hers, and she opened her mouth. She couldn't think of anything to say. "No," she said at last. "Thanks." She was off-balance already, caught completely by surprise by Jenna's token courtesy.

"Sit down," Jenna offered, moving around the chair she stood behind to wait beside it. She didn't take her eyes off of Cassandra.

Cassandra bit her lip. She was desperately afraid that this polite veneer was just for show, to prove that the other Ranger could be more civil than she was no matter what the circumstances. But if that was Jenna's revenge, then surely she deserved it?

Reluctantly, Cassandra took a seat across from Jenna.

"Lights," Jenna called, sitting down in the chair she had already claimed. The computer must have been set to a day-night schedule that corresponded to their shift rotation, because soft lights came up around the room. It wasn't the bright light of day, just the gentle illumination of evening--mood lighting, like the lamp, not work lighting.

"I came to apologize," Cassandra said, cringing inwardly. It sounded insincere and inadequate to her ears, but she didn't know where else to start. "I didn't--I never meant for any of this to happen."

Jenna stared at her, and Cassandra tried to steel herself for another conversation like the one with TJ. The censure of her teammates had been hard, but his disappointment had been worse than any anger. She would never be the angel in his eyes again. She hadn't thought Jenna's bitterness could even come close to that realization, but now every look Jenna gave her just brought it all back.

"I know," Jenna said at last.

Cassandra opened her mouth, ready to explain as best she could, to do it better than she had done it with her team, to try and make herself understand at least...

She hesitated. When she spoke all that came out was, "What?"

Jenna's expression didn't change. "I don't think you meant for this to happen," she said simply.

"I didn't, I really didn't--" Cassandra bit her lip, trying to keep from babbling. "Jenna, I swear, when I came here I was engaged to one of my teammates. Where we come from, that's like we've sworn to love each other and no one else for the rest of our lives. No one else, just us, it's exclusive and we were both committed to it and I couldn't imagine ever needing anyone else."

"Well." Jenna looked like she tried to smile, but it just melted away into the expressionless stare that didn't lighten. "Your imagination is better now, I guess."

"I didn't want this," Cassandra cried. "I just saw him and it was like... I don't know, I can't--I can't make it sound like I felt. It was like I knew what he was thinking the first time I saw him. I didn't want it," she repeated desperately. "But I couldn't stop it."

Jenna's eyes bored into her. "Do you want it now?"

She wanted to say no. She wanted to assure this woman, this Ranger for whom she should have been willing to die, that she regretted the feeling that was even now taking Jenna's partner from her. But she had come here to tell the truth.

"Yes," Cassandra whispered. "I hate how it happened. I hate what it's done to all of us. But... I love him." I love him. She had never said those words aloud. "I can't hate that," she finished softly, almost inaudibly.

Jenna's gaze fell finally, looking away for the first time. "I--I'm glad to hear that," she told the floor. Her voice gave the lie to her words. Everything that wasn't on her face was in her tone.

"I'm sorry," Cassandra whispered. "I really am."

Jenna lifted her head, a smile trying once more to make itself seen on her face. But there were tears in her eyes now, and she brushed at them impatiently before they could spill onto her cheeks. "I know," she repeated, voice trembling. "I know you are."

Cassandra waited. There was nothing else she could say. She ached to comfort, to do anything that could make up for the terrible pain that had torn two couples apart. But if "anything" existed, she didn't know what it was, and she didn't dare ask the only question that was on her mind: how?

Jenna's breath caught and she swallowed hard, making no apology for her tears as she tried again. Taking a deep breath, she murmured, "I knew what happened, you know. I knew he'd fallen for you."

Jenna looked up, toward the ceiling, for a brief moment. "I should have said something then," she said softly. Then she looked back at Cassandra. "It happened, sometimes, on Elisia. He told you?"

Not understanding, Cassandra just shook her head.

"He must have known." Jenna closed her eyes, wiping away another tear when the gesture pushed it free. "He must have. It's happened to him before."

Cassandra's heart froze. She didn't know what Jenna was talking about, but she didn't like the implication.

Jenna opened her eyes, starting to look marginally more composed. "Sometimes empaths spontaneously bond with each other," she muttered, blinking hard. "No one knows why it happens. Everyone has their pet theories, from science to spirituality."

"Oh," Cassandra breathed. The memory came back: she and Saryn, late one night in Linnse's office. They had run into each other by sheer coincidence, and Linnse had taken them aside when it became obvious that neither one of them was going to be the first to leave.

"He did tell you?" Jenna's focus was shifting now, from inward back to her.

"Something... like that, maybe." He had said it meant they were meant to be. It was the first and only time he had told her that he loved her. "Something about--other lives, or something," she muttered, embarrassed to even mention it to Jenna.

To her surprise, a choked laugh escaped from the other Ranger. It wasn't malicious, or even really humorous. Instead it made her seem even sadder than she already was. Especially when she put her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes again.

"Lyris told him that," Jenna whispered at last. "He was the first. He and Saryn knew each other as soon as they met--they barely even said hello and they were the best friends you've ever seen."

Cassandra felt cold all over. "But they weren't... they didn't--"

"They weren't lovers," Jenna said, somehow understanding what she meant. She opened her eyes and glanced at Cassandra before looking away. "They knew each other in a way Saryn and I never did. Maybe... maybe that's why Saryn fought this so hard, I don't know."

Jenna's voice dropped and she added, "I shouldn't have let him. I knew it was tearing him up inside. But I needed him too, Cassandra." Her voice broke, and she whispered, "I needed him too."

With dawning horror, Cassandra repeated, "They weren't lovers?"

Jenna just shook her head.

"Oh my god," Cassandra whispered. "This is our fault, isn't it. We really did this." It wasn't whatever magical powers an empath had after all... not if Saryn had felt this before with such incredibly different results.

"Yes," Jenna said in a small voice. "And no." She caught Cassandra's eye again, straightening resolutely. "They weren't attracted to each other. You are. I know..." She took a deep breath, but she didn't look away. "I know that if this hadn't happened, you never would have acted on it. You told me so yourself: you were committed to someone else.

"So was Saryn," Jenna said, with a quirk of her lips that wasn't a smile. "I know there was no fighting this, and call me a sadist but it was sweet--it was so good of you to try. It really was. Please believe that, Cassandra. I believe you."

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Torn between the desire to apologize again and the need to reassure Jenna, she could only manage, "I don't know what to say."

"Say that you want forgiveness." Jenna was unnaturally calm.

"I--" Cassandra started to shake her head, knowing she didn't deserve it, unable to ask for something she couldn't give herself.

"Because you have it," Jenna said, before she could find the words. "I just..." Her voice trailed off, and when it came back it sounded forlorn. "I have a favor to ask."

Anything. Cassandra just looked at her, waiting.

"He won't leave me until I tell him to," Jenna told her hands. Then she added softly, "Or until you ask him to. He's still here, so I know you haven't asked." She lifted her gaze to Cassandra's and said, "I want you to be together."

Jenna pressed her lips together, but her voice was steady when she said, "I want him to be happy. And I know he'll do anything for you. So please... all I ask is that you don't keep him away from me. He's all I have left of my home, my world... my team." She hesitated there, the catch in her throat resolving itself. "He needs you--but I still need him."

"He needs you too," Cassandra said quietly. For the first time she knew exactly what to say. "I know that, Jenna. He loves you just as much as he did before."

"He just loves you more," Jenna murmured.

Cassandra swallowed. "Maybe," she admitted. "But... back before I knew what was happening, when we first met--our two teams, I mean?" She didn't wait for Jenna to acknowledge what she was saying. "I thought maybe you and I could be friends. I... I still wish that could have happened."

Jenna finally smiled again, and this time it didn't look polite or reassuring or anything but an honest expression of her feelings. It wavered, not strong or confident either, but there. "I wish it still could," she offered tentatively.

Not quite able to believe the offer that had been made, Cassandra murmured, "I'll try if you will?"

After the briefest pause, Jenna just nodded. "I'll try," she agreed softly.

They sat there in awkward silence for a moment longer. Finally, Jenna pushed herself up off the chair and tried for another smile. This one wasn't quite as sincere. "I'll send Saryn out," she said.

Cassandra wished she could say, No, don't. She wished she could just leave, the wound between them salved if not healed, and save any further pain for another day. But she was here, she had seen Saryn, and she could still feel him in the darkness. She wasn't strong enough to say no.

Jenna turned away and crossed the apartment without another word.

He hadn't even pretended to sleep. The light was on when Jenna returned, illuminating the screen in front of him while he tried to catch up on casualty reports from across the Free Systems. Every Ranger sent out on patrol today had returned, and in that sense the day had been a success. Tomorrow would find two new Rangers in the sky above Eltare, however, and there was plenty of reason for concern.

Saryn lifted his unseeing gaze from the reports and took in Jenna's tear-stained face. That hurt more than any numbers he could read. He pushed the screen away immediately but he didn't stand, not sure what she would take from him right now.

"She's waiting," Jenna said quietly.

Somehow, the words didn't surprise him. Not just because he knew they were true, because he could feel Cassandra's presence even through the walls, but because there was nothing else she would have said. He knew too, instinctively, that no apology would be enough. "Thank you," he whispered instead.

Jenna looked away. There was a long moment where neither of them moved. Finally he heard her speak, so softly that he held his breath to hear her words. "If you don't come back," she murmured. "I'll understand."

That brought him to his feet. Three strides took him to her side, and he waited until her eyes met his again. Unflinching. "Do you want me to come back?" he asked quietly.

A pause, and then a single nod.

He lifted his fingers to her face, the lightest caress on her cheek. "Then I shall."

Saryn slipped out of the room before she could answer. The lights out here were adequate, even after the bright reading light he subjected his eyes to just recently. He could see Cassandra's dark head, bowed over her lap as she braced her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her hands. Her back to him, he saw her turn her head a little as he paused.

She didn't say anything.

He hated that he didn't even know her. Was it normal for her to be so quiet? They had so rarely had occasion to converse in the past, but from what he had observed of her with her teammates, he thought her silence was unusual. Was it because of him, then? Something Jenna had said? The hopelessness he could feel between them?

"You frustrate me, too." Cassandra's voice drifted to him, the words alarmingly real in the quiet of this interrupted night. "I didn't want this, you know."

"So you said," he agreed softly, not taking his eyes off of her.

"So you said," she retorted. Her irritation flared in the half-light, and his jaw clenched.

I am done fighting with her over this, he reminded himself. They had hurt each other enough. Yet the words came unbidden--it was a habit by now. "Whatever you blame me for in this, know that I did not act alone," he said stiffly.

Her head tilted a little, and he realized she had moved her hands from her chin to her face. It was less a pensive posture than it was a despairing one. He stepped forward without thinking, drawn to her no matter the circumstances. The name that feel from her lips stopped her where he stood.

"Lyris," she whispered, not lifting her head.

Raw anger at the mention of his name. He didn't bother trying to hide his reaction, knowing that she would see through it and not caring. "Do not speak of him lightly," he warned, ignoring her dismay.

"Why not?" she asked the floor. The tumult of emotion caught at him, dragged him into her hurt more effectively than any words and it infuriated him that she would make this about her. All she said aloud was, "Because my children have nothing to do with empathy after all?"

He was so caught up in what she felt that he barely heard what she said. "You will not disrespect my friend in this fashion," he hissed. "You have no idea what I felt for him."

"Yeah, well." Her voice sounded hollow. "I don't have any idea what you feel for me, either."

"Nor I you," he snapped.

There was no change in her posture or tone. "I love you."

Saryn stared at her. She believed that, he realized belatedly, but the shock of the words held him frozen in place. He was not caught off-guard so often. The feeling of utter speechlessness was uncomfortable.

"I came here," she continued softly, "because I'm tired of this. We can't change what we did, Saryn. No matter what we do, we'll never make it fair to the others. The most we can do is try to make it fair to ourselves."

"Do we deserve that?" he muttered, unable to keep the doubt inside.

Cassandra was very still. "Maybe I don't," she whispered at last. The words hurt, and he opened his mouth to contradict her. Then she added, "But I think you do."

That made him hesitate. "Odd," he mused. But perhaps, when he thought about it, predictable. "I would have said the opposite."

She finally lifted her head. She sat up straight for a moment before shifting sideways to face him. "If we can't do it for ourselves," she said softly. "Can we do it for each other?"

He would do anything for her. Did she know that, he wondered?

"Yes," Cassandra breathed.

The protest was futile, but he made it anyway. "You shouldn't be able to do that."

"No secrets," she whispered, obviously sensing his wariness. "I'm not hiding anything from you, Saryn. I just know what you don't say. It probably makes less sense to me than it does to you."

"I find that hard to believe," he said under his breath.

She was standing now, facing him across the room. She was waiting, he realized with a sigh. Waiting for him to decide--as she already had--whether it would be yes or no. Now or later. Or maybe not later. There were no guarantees, not on this planet, not in this war. If it wasn't now, it could quite conceivably be never.

He might be able to live with the fact that he had lost her through his own actions, that the fault for their situation was his, that he had said no at all the wrong times. He might be able to live with that. He didn't know. But he was certain that he couldn't die with it.

"Yes," Saryn said quietly. "For each other... we can do this."

Carlos had emptied his locker, turned over his morpher, and said goodbye to his teammates. He had said a longer goodbye to his wife. He had given Ashley a message for his brother, and he had read everything he could about a situation he still didn't understand. There was nothing left to do but report to Co-Op and let JT send him off.

"Hey, Carlos!"

The more he tried not to resent the circumstances, the harder it was to stop thinking about them. He was awfully glad to see Ash racing for the lift when he turned to hold the doors. "Running late for UC again?" he teased, grinning at her indignation.

"I think you have to have a cover to be undercover," she said breathlessly, sliding into the lift with him as he let the doors go. "And I'm only as late as you are!"

"You really are screwed," he declared.

Ashley rolled her eyes as the lift started upwards, leaning back against the railing with a nonchalance that made her breathless mien less conspicuous. "What are they going to do?" she asked lightly. "Fire us? Come on, we're the only people crazy enough to volunteer!"

"Crazy's a good word for it," he agreed with a smirk. "Whose idea was this, anyway? Some alien almost shoots me for looking at her sideways and suddenly I'm the sucker who has to go and try to make peace with her planet?"

"Too bad your counterpart made such an impression," Ashley said with a laugh. "You're the only one they'll listen to and you know it. That'll teach you to save an entire planet," she added.

"Make it disappear just to try to bring it back later?" Carlos made a face. "Yeah, that was just brilliant of me. In fact, next time I see me, remind me to thank myself for that. In detail."

"I'll do it myself," Ashley promised. "As soon as you take over the Earth op that should have been yours in the first place. I mean, honestly, he's your brother!"

It was Carlos' turn to be smug. "That'll teach you to claim someone else's spy contacts!"

"Oh, whatever!" Ashley held up one hand in pretended affront. "See if I ever cover for you again!"

"Like anyone asked you to!" he retorted.

When the lift doors opened on Co-Op, Carlos was no less wound up than he'd been before but at least he was feeling better about it. He had a really horrible long-distance teleport in front of him, not to mention the reception he could expect on the other end of it. But he wasn't the only one setting off to do the impossible... and if nothing else, it would be something different. The routine around here, both figuratively and quite literally, was deadly.

Ashley teleported out first. He tried to ignore the lonely pang that accompanied her departure, knowing that emotional displays were part of the reason the others hadn't been allowed in to see them off. Well, that and time constraints. They were on a schedule around here, and it drove him crazy, but it couldn't be altered for anything short of incapacitation.

JT was muttering about teleporting to an invisible planet, but he kept his concerns quiet enough that Carlos only got the gist. JT was probably just trying to rile him. Probably. After all, they could predict where the planet should be... couldn't they?

"Carlos." JT's voice snapped him out of the worry he was trying to pretend he didn't feel. "Watch your back out there."

"Yeah." Carlos braced himself. "You got it. Keep it together, okay?"

JT nodded once. The room disappeared. The discomfort of an extended teleport settled in too fast, making his mind claw at remembered sensation to compensate for the disembodied nature of the transportation. Even alien surroundings were welcome when they finally coalesced, with agonizing slowness, into the very darkness around him.

What, didn't they believe in lights on Aquitar? Carlos dragged air into his lungs, grateful for every twinge that reminded him he was still alive. It was the dimness that weirded him out now, that and the fact that he wasn't quite blind. He could see enough to make him worry, enough to say that the shapes around him weren't just alien technology--that they might instead be ruins.

It was a contingency they had considered likely, in fact. Even if the Rangers were still operating on Aquitar, it was a good bet that their command center wasn't. But these were the best coordinates JT had, and it was up to Carlos from here on out.

He gave his eyes a few more minutes, using the time they needed to adjust to listen. There was no sound around him. That made him nervous, because by all accounts he should be underwater. There should be some sort of air cyclers at work, at least, but he heard nothing.

Great. No light, stale air, and absolutely zero direction. He tried to tell himself that he had it better than Ashley. He hadn't teleported into hostile territory. Just the destroyed shell of a place that might or might not be humanly habitable. Surrounded by what felt suspiciously like ghosts, and no way to find their keepers.

Oh yeah. A lot better than Ashley.

Ashley was greeted by blaster fire the moment she was released from the teleportation stream. She threw herself out of the way almost before she had identified the sounds of the firefight, reacting on instinct to the danger in the air. But even as she hit the ground, her mind registered the bizarreness of the situation--no one could predict a teleport that accurately, not unless they already knew where it was supposed to end.

The welcoming committee wasn't for her. It was the most logical explanation. Unfortunately, whether by accident or design, she was in the middle of it, and she had her own weapon in her hand as she rolled. She hadn't come all this way, she hadn't come home, just to get killed.

She also hadn't come to blast anyone she wasn't absolutely certain was the enemy. Which meant that cover was her best option. Fast, unpredictable movement, and cover.

"Ashley!"

Cavalry would work too.

Gabe was lucky she recognized his voice, because he appeared at her side with absolutely zero warning. No sound other than her name, no movement, not even in her peripheral vision. She guessed that was what it meant to be a ninja.

"That's a good way to get yourself shot," Ashley told him, as he hunkered down beside her in the shelter of the Power Chamber debris. Maybe they should have expected that this place would be watched.

"Good to see you too," Carlos' brother answered. "You okay?"

"Fine." She risked a peek around their concrete barricade, catching sight of another black streak before a warning shot sent her scrambling back. "You alone?"

"Nah, company. We came out to meet you; figured it might take more than one of us to get you out of here safe." Gabe was doing something to his wrist device, she noted absently. "Good thing we did."

"Did you expect an ambush?" Ashley wanted to know. It wouldn't be so strange, really. There was no way he could have gotten a message back to Eltare quickly enough to matter.

"Always do." Gabe passed her the wrist device abruptly. "Here. Put this on and we're out of here."

Ashley did as she was told, wincing as a shout penetrated the firefight taking place on the other side of the concrete. Gabe tensed, too, but the sound of blasters trading insults didn't let up and that had to be a good thing. "Ready," she told him. She didn't bother to ask what it was.

He whipped a blaster from nowhere, pointed it into the sky. Not a blaster, she realized as she flinched back from the flame. The flare exploded straight up, an eerie extra star in the daytime sky as it burned itself out. She didn't see it go out, didn't see anything at all after the world accelerated into an undifferentiated blur around her.

She found herself dizzy and gasping for breath by the time her eyes started to make sense of things again. She staggered and Gabe caught her, steadying her, a token apology in his voice. "Sorry; weird huh? We have to go again. You okay?"

Ashley nodded, managing to gasp out, "Yeah, go."

This time she shut her eyes, and somehow that made it better. Strange that the feeling of gravity doing cartwheels was mostly a visual perception, rather than an actual question of balance. What kind of transportation were they using around here, anyway?

When she felt solid ground under her feet again, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. They were inside. For some reason that caught her off guard, although maybe it shouldn't have. Whatever kind of teleportation they were using--and she assumed it was teleportation--it wouldn't be much good if it couldn't go through walls.

The warehouse they were standing in was deserted, if her vision was anything to go by. There were flashes of darkness around her, but only one other person materialized. Was that what they had looked like from the outside, Ashley wondered? Just a flicker of shadow too fast to properly distinguish?

"We're going out the back," Gabe was saying. He had gripped both her shoulders to steady her, and now he was staring into her face, trying to gauge her expression. "There's a place across the street where we can change, get you into something that won't draw so much attention."

She didn't protest. Her field gear was just that--gear--and if he didn't look very inconspicuous himself, well, he knew what they were doing better than she did. Her eyes flicked to the silent figure beside him, the one keeping a wary eye on the motionless room while they talked.

"Blake," Gabe said, seeing her gaze go to him. Then he nodded at her and added, "Ashley. Better introductions later."

She smiled at Blake, who paused his scan of the room to nod in return. "Let's go," Ashley agreed.

She was hustled out of the warehouse and into a building that looked, from the inside, a lot like a bar. She hadn't seen a sign outside, so all she had to go on was the crowd and the drinks. They didn't slip through unnoticed, but Gabe kept a hand on her arm and steered her down a hallway, through a door, and then through a second.

Ashley almost stopped when she caught sight of the person waiting for them inside the tiny room. Blue eyes grabbed her attention and held it as a dangerous gaze considered her for several seconds. She had seen people like this on Astronema's ship, and she didn't ignore them lightly. But Gabe was still tugging on her arm, pulling her behind a cloth-draped rack taller than she was and handing her clothes with an apologetic look.

"Sorry so rude," he told her. "We're expecting a raid this afternoon and we've all got to disappear as fast as possible. Change your clothes, hide your hair, and we're out of here. I'll catch you up later."

"Some kind of cover you are," she heard someone say. She didn't know whether it was Blake or the guy with the gun who'd been waiting for them. "Can't even keep your targets in sight."

"I understand," Ashley told Carlos' brother. "I'll be ready in a minute."

He nodded quickly, disappearing around the other side of the makeshift screen.

"Not much I can do in room full of people 'cept shoot it up," a second voice was saying. "A little gratitude for the guy who got the one that shot you, all right?"

"You get hurt?" she heard Gabe ask.

"Nah," the first voice answered. "Bit of a burn, that's all. Singed my jacket good."

Ashley stepped into the baggy green pants Gabe had left for her, tugging them into place around her waist. She kept the shirt she'd been wearing under her field gear, settling the loose, dark, button-down shirt into place over it. She bundled the gear into as carry-able a form as she could manage and stepped out from behind the rack.

She stared. The three boys, formerly dressed in black and muted color uniforms, had transformed--all three of them--in the time it had taken her to change. The dangerous looking guy with the gun was in exactly the same position she'd left him in, lounging back in a chair, now with a shredded t-shirt hanging over his shoulders that barely reached the waistband of jeans that had seen better days.

Ashley blinked, tearing her eyes away to assess the others. Neither of the others made the generically dark and often torn clothes look quite so glamorous... daring, almost risque. In fact, Blake was bundled into so many layers that it might as well have been winter in Canada here. Gabe was wearing a coat that looked so heavy it had to slow him down, but he didn't look bothered by it.

In fact, he was giving her the same critical look she was giving him.

"Better put your field jacket back on," Gabe said with a sigh, shaking his head. "Under the long sleeves. No offense, Ash," and this time his lips quirked in a reassuringly Carlos-like way, "but you're such a girl."

"Is that a problem around here?" she wondered, as she followed his instructions quickly.

"Yeah," Blake said, and now, hearing him speak where she could see him, she knew that he was the one who had teased the guy with the gun about being cover. "For us. Hunter's our designated pretty boy. Can't have any competition, you get what I'm saying?"

He jerked his chin at the gun-toting guy in shredded clothes, leaving no doubt about who "Hunter" was. "I get it," she said, even though she didn't.

"Wait." Blake stopped her before she could button her shirt up again. "Trade ya."

He stripped off his hooded sweatshirt and held it out, and she offered him the button-down wordlessly. "It's the hair," he said with a shrug, seeing her confused expression.

The sound of running footsteps in the hallway prevented her from replying, even if she'd had any idea what to ask. They were obviously still in danger, and she wasn't going to get any answers until they got wherever they were going. Hunter was already on his feet, standing by the door before she knew he'd moved. He was tense, waiting, even if he still gave off that surface attitude of utter relaxation.

There was a banging on the door. Hunter tossed a look over his shoulder, raked them all with those piercing eyes, then flung the door wide. Two more people pounded by as she watched, but there was no sign of the person who had knocked.

Then Hunter was gone and Gabe had grabbed her elbow again, hurrying her toward the door with Blake. "Stay with us," he said loudly, right next to her ear. It was the only way she could hear him, and she did her best to catch every word. "We're gonna have to run for a while. Run, hide, run, hide--you got it?"

She did, but he hadn't waited to find out. The next few minutes were a rush of hallways and slamming doors, sometimes people around her and sometimes not. When they burst out into an alleyway, she saw Hunter running ahead of them again, gun flung over his shoulder like a decoration, banging against his back as he loped along. Blake was nowhere to be seen.

Ashley heard the whine of fighter engines over her head, but she didn't have time to look up. They came under fire the moment they raced into the street. Everyone was running, people were screaming, and Gabe shoved her so hard that she almost fell.

"Get down!" he shouted at her, and she realized he'd meant her to. "Face down and don't move!"

She hit the ground without another second's hesitation, vaguely aware of him crashing down beside her. She could hear laser fire hitting the street a little ways to the left, hitting, melting, moving on. Moving up the street. She stayed where she was, as motionless as she could make herself when her breath was coming in pants. With the hood over her head and her hair shielding her face she couldn't see a thing besides the pavement pressed up against her cheek.

Then Gabe was shaking her shoulder, and she threw off the hood and rolled to her feet. "All right, let's go!" he was yelling. "Hunter, go on ahead; Ash, get your hood up!"

What difference the hood was going to make she had no idea, but she obeyed anyway and took off after him when he started to run. They must have gone through half the town that way. She hid when he did, followed when he didn't, and completely failed to keep track of either Hunter or Blake. They were eerily invisible when she wasn't looking directly at them.

She finally dove through a rickety door into a room lit only by the late afternoon sunlight through the windows and every fighting sense she had went on high alert. It was the difference between the pure adrenaline of dodging danger in the streets and the steely terror of multiple target locks suddenly focusing on her and her alone. Ashley froze.

"It's okay, she's the one," Gabe said into the sudden quiet. "I saw her teleport in myself, haven't taken my eyes off her since." He reached out and yanked her hood back, not gently, but carefully enough that he didn't pull her hair.

She looked around, holding her hands out to the sides warily. She couldn't see anyone, not even Hunter or Blake. But she knew someone was there nonetheless. Several someones, or her instincts were no good at all.

"Blake?" a voice asked. As soon as he spoke, Ashley could see him: a man in a dark uniform almost identical to the one Gabe and the others had been wearing earlier. He was leaning up against the wall beside the door, surveying the room casually.

"Yeah," Blake agreed, appearing at the back of the room. He had arrived by more conventional means, stepping through a door she hadn't noticed until he used it. "Saw her arrive too."

"So did I," Hunter's voice agreed grudgingly. She looked up in surprise, catching sight of the gunner perched on a narrow ledge above one of the near windows. With most of the light below him, he was more in shadow than any of them. "Don't know what she's supposed to look like, but that was a Ranger teleportation stream she came in on."

It was the most he'd spoken in her presence since she'd met him. She tried not to stare at him, but his clothes--or more accurately the lack thereof--made it harder than it should have been. It was Gabe's voice that finally drew her attention away.

"This is Ashley," he said firmly. "We can trust her."

Ashley wasn't convinced these dark warriors trusted anyone, and she supposed she couldn't blame them. The forces of evil had been on Earth for more than two years now. Gabe and his friends were all that was left of justice on these streets.

But the man beside the door nodded once. Whatever he thought, he was apparently going to take Gabe's word for it. Hunter landed, startlingly quiet, on the floor in front of the window and padded over toward the doorway Blake had emerged from only moments before. He disappeared through it, and with a single backwards glance, Blake followed. Gabe indicated the door with one hand, offering her a smile. "Down the rabbit hole," he suggested lightly.

She just shook her head, a small smile curling her lips in return. "You're going to tell me what this is all about, right?" she asked, allowing herself to be guided toward the door at the back of the room.

"Sure," Gabe agreed easily. "Soon as I figure it out myself."

Ashley put out her hands uncertainly as the stairwell turned a corner and the light from the door above was cut off. Someone grabbed her outstretched hands and she started, but followed the tug obediently. Only when the person in front of her spoke did she recognize him as Hunter.

"Just 'cross the floor, here." The words drifted to her in the darkness, even the light behind her gone now that Gabe had closed the door behind them. "Then we'll be able to see again."

He didn't seem to be having any trouble, but Ashley chose not to mention that. There was some creaking, a sound that could have been another door, and then Hunter's voice warned, "Lights now."

Two flashlights sprang to life at the same time, and she flinched involuntarily. In the sudden brightness she saw Gabe removing two more flashlights from behind an old stack of boxes and passing one to her. Hunter and Blake shone theirs around the enclosed space in which they found themselves, and she realized that there was a door behind her after all.

There was also a heavy metal shelving unit in front of her, which Hunter and Blake seemed to be doing their best to push out of the way. They made a strange pair, almost surreal in the shifting light: one tall and blonde and flashing skin with every movement, the other shorter and dark and wrapped in more clothes than she was. Yet they seemed to recognize each other's movements, working together without a word, almost as though they could read each other's thoughts.

The flashlights revealed a narrow passage when the shelving was cleared. A tunnel of darkness, maybe just a hole in the wall or maybe something much deeper, more extensive. She glanced at Gabe uncertainly, and he grinned. It was the first grin she'd seen on his face, but somehow it didn't reassure her.

"Pretty high-tech, huh?" He gestured at the darkness, apparently indicating that she should precede him into the shadows. "Welcome to the ninja resistance."