Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise in this story.
Balanced
One of the primary advantages of being an SPD Ranger, Schulyer Tate reflected, was that you rarely got an off day. No off days meant more duty. More time to achieve his goals. More criminals behind bars.
More excuses to ignore the insanity around him.
Which included Bridge presently dancing around him like a crazed maniac.
Sky snapped his handbook shut with a sigh. "Bridge."
Bridge stopped, grinning at him benignly. "Yeah, and they were dancing like that. They seriously thought I was some sort of God, you know? It was kind of weird. I mean, yeah, dreams usually are weird, but I'd rate this quite high on the weirdness scale – if such a thing exists, of course. But anyway…"
"Come on, Bridge," Sydney Drew said exasperatedly from the other end of the room, as she tried to rub off her latest experiments with nail polish off her toes. Maybe she should've paid more attention to the "Durable Shades" on the label… "You had a weird dream. Fine. Leave us in peace now, will you?"
"Took the words right out of my mouth," Sky said smugly, opening his handbook once again.
"And you, Sky," Z Delgado spoke up, removing her headphones. "You're hardly one to talk about quirky habits. It's, what, the hundredth time you're reading that damn SPD handbook?"
"Well, at least I'm doing something productive," Sky snapped back. "Unlike some other people I know," he added, glaring at his three teammates, who promptly glared back. Well, all except Bridge, who had slipped back into his daydreams.
Just as the tension seemed as if it would explode, Jack Landors entered the Rangers' Rec. Room, stretching his limbs. "Boy, that was a good workout." He stopped suddenly, sensing the silence in the room – a heaviness that hung in the air like a fur coat on a hot day. "Hey, what's up with you people?"
"Nothing," Sky snapped petulantly, and returned to his handbook.
"Nothing? How can my dream be nothing?" Bridge demanded suddenly, apparently having snapped out of his daydreams.
"Well, it is," Sky said, frowning.
"Oh? Oh yeah?" Bridge's eyes flared unexpectedly, effectively stunning everybody else in the room into shocked silence. "If I were you, Sky," Bridge went on, stepping closer to the Blue Ranger, "I'd pay more attention to what my team mates are saying, respect their opinions, and at least try to behave like someone who'd be a good leader one day!"
Jack, Syd, and Z winced as one. Touched a raw nerve there, huh.
Sky snapped his book shut with a deafening thud and set it aside carefully, almost reverently. He then got up from the couch with a slow preciseness that seemed to scream murderous intent. "Is that so." It wasn't a question. "Well, Bridge, let me tell you this: if I were you, I'd at least try behaving sensibly and giving an opinion that was actually even worth considering!"
Bridge looked like Sky had just punched him in the gut.
Sky's fists had clenched so hard that the knuckles were white, and his shoulders were shaking.
Jack decided it was good time to interfere.
"Guys, stop this," he said, stepping in between the Blue and Green Rangers, deciding Sky was the better person to glare at. An angry Bridge was just too… eerie. "We just came from SWAT tor… I mean, training, and already you two are fighting." A hint of a smile quirked a corner of his lips. "Care for another week of Sergeant Silverback?"
That, as expected, seemed to have the desired impact. Sky deflated, and Bridge averted his eyes.
"Good. I thought so." Jack's face split into a wide grin. "How about you two oversee some D-Squad training right now? The selections for promotion into C-Squad are coming pretty soon."
"Yeah. Sure." Sky rubbed the back of his neck, still trying to reorient himself. "Though from what I've seen already, almost all of them have a long way to go before they're close to even C-Squad material."
"I think they have the talent and the determination to make it by next month," Bridge said, some of that uncharacteristic coldness still lingering in his voice.
Jack sighed. "Listen guys, another word from you is going to bring Kruger here. And when he comes…"
"Fine!" Sky put up his hands. "Fine already! We're going!" He grabbed his hand-pistol and returned it to its holster and headed to the door, Bridge close behind him. Jack watched them go with a helpless incredulity that he wondered would stay with him for the rest of his tenure at SPD. Their team was a forced clashing of five individuals who preferred to stay that way, their only connecting link being all that they had experienced – and survived – together as SPD Rangers over the past year.
That link was all that they needed.
But it was times like this that Jack wondered if only that were enough…
"You know, Sky, I'm willing to give you another chance. You see, after they danced and declared I was their God… no, wait, I think they declared I was their God before they started dancing. I mean, it'd be kind of stupid – yeah, even for a dream – if they had done it the opposite way, and…"
"Bridge!"
Ideas with the noblest of intentions sometimes turn out to be the worst decisions ever made. Sky decided he could add Jack's decision to send him and Bridge to oversee the D-Squad training to that list. If his mood hadn't been one really conducive to good humour an hour before, he was sure he would explode at the drop of a pin now.
Really, where was the proper training and hard work that he had gone through in his D-Squad days?
"We were like this once too, you know," Bridge said suddenly from his side. Sky's frown deepened. Damn his ability to read his mind. "You've just got to give those guys another chance."
Sky sighed and turned back to the screen outside the simulator room, which showed the D-Squad tackling a group of simulated Krybots. "We have nothing but chances to give them, Bridge." He winced as he saw two of the Krybots easily outfight and floor a cadet. If that had been a real fight, that cadet would've had a smoking hole in his chest by now. "But they're going to have to learn that there're no second chances in real life."
Even Bridge was solemn as the D-Squad cadets fell one by one, no semblance of teamwork in their attacks, and little to no concentration on defence. Sky decided that he'd had enough. Reaching up, he flipped a few switches above the simulator screen. The simulation immediately powered down, and the D-Squad picked themselves up slowly from the floor, still disoriented. Sky and Bridge entered the room, the former fixing the younger cadets with one of his notorious glares.
He took a deep breath. "D-Squad cadets, I was very disappointed with your performance." Bridge winced. Sky had never been one to sugarcoat things. "It would seem that none of you are not ready to make the transition into C-Squad – where the training is much tougher – yet. I saw sparks of brilliance here and there, but there was no consistency. And most importantly, no sense of co-ordination or teamwork." Sky crossed his arms over his chest. "I guess you guys need to revisit your basics."
A tall young man, red-haired, with a defiant glint in his brown eyes, apparently the leader of the group, stepped forward. "Basics, sir? But we completed our preliminary training before entering D-Squad…"
"Don't let the words 'preliminary training' fool you," Bridge said, almost sympathetically. "What you went through before this was just a basic assessment of whether you'd make it in SPD or not. Something like a physical exam. Yeah, I know that wasn't probably the greatest of analogies, but I trust that you guys are intelligent enough to understand that. And speaking of intelligence…"
"Bridge."
Bridge stopped himself with some effort, glancing at his B-Squad teammate sheepishly.
"Thank you." Sky snapped his glare back on to the hapless cadets. "Now, talking as we were about returning to the basics, we'll start off with some simple one-on-one sparring routines."
One of the girls of the group – a cheeky little thing with an impish grin – stepped forward. "Sir, how about a demonstration before we start practising?"
Sky frowned. "Demonstration?"
"Yes, sir. I'm sure it'll be very… helpful to all of us, if you and Ranger Carson could demonstrate some of your skills."
You mean it'll be very entertaining, Sky thought darkly, but realised he couldn't refuse. Besides, there were a few pointers he'd been meaning to give the lower Squad for a long time…
"Sure, why not?" Bridge exclaimed enthusiastically from his side. "'Sides, Sky, it's been ages since you and I sparred."
I wish he hadn't made it sound it like he was convincing me to spar with him… "Of course." He walked slowly to the opposite end of the room and turned around, facing Bridge, arms up in the traditional readying stance. "Let's start now."
Bridge grinned and slipped into stance as well, while the D-Squad members retreated deferentially into the antechamber, where the huge screen provided them a fantastic view.
The fight started.
It was almost stuttering at first, as if the two friends were rediscovering each other's strengths and weaknesses, silently marvelling at how much the other had evolved in terms of technique and determination. Blows were exchanged, kicks were parried, and the space in the room was suddenly white interspersed with flashing blurs of grey, blue and green as the two young men displayed incredible acrobatics as they lunged, blocked and swiped at each other.
D-Squad watched, mouths agape.
Sky grinned as Bridge's grey uniform filled his vision as the Green Ranger attempted a spinning kick. He ducked underneath it, and while Bridge's momentum had him temporarily stumbling, dipped low and kick-swept Bridge's feet from underneath him.
Bridge tumbled to the floor but was back on his feet in a flash, responding to Sky's move with a series of lightning-quick punches that brushed against Sky's desperately dodging visage almost teasingly – Bridge had always been the faster and more flexible of the two. Sky's grin widened as he acknowledged the challenge being presented before him.
It was time to show his advantage over Bridge.
Concentrating hard, he caught Bridge's arm as it came up for the next punch, gripping it hard. Bridge squirmed and brought up the other hand, but due to his heavily decreased mobility, Sky was able to easily catch it as well. "Much to learn you still have, Padawan," Sky teased.
Bridge rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it."
Sky shifted his grip, preparing to flip the Green Ranger over him. His hands pushed up Bridge's gloves in the process –
Bridge leaned forward in his struggles to get free, and his forehead brushed against Sky's –
-- And both of their universes exploded in a flash of dazzling white.
Many days later, when Sky would reflect on this event, he would still find himself unable to describe what exactly happened to both of them. His head seemed as if it would explode – not with pain, but a seeping heaviness that seemed to pull his entire body to the ground – and his insides felt as if they were being squeezed out of him by an invisible hand. Through it all, he could hear Bridge's laboured gasping. Clearly.
A little too clearly, in fact.
So clear, that his universe seemed to reverberate with the sound.
Finally, with some effort, the two of them pulled away from each other, blinking and highly disoriented. Sky reflected that he'd felt this way – at a time that seemed to be long, long ago – before, but while that memory brought with it emotions of pain and despair, this time the feeling was one of… serenity. Peace. Enlightenment, even.
Sky didn't know what had happened, but it felt good.
"Bridge," he said, wincing slightly at the lighter tones his voice had taken. He turned around. "Bridge?"
"Sky, I'm here," came a deep, disturbingly familiar voice from his right, and Sky turned slowly, almost apprehensively in that direction.
His jaw dropped.
He was seeing a replica of himself.
A replica so perfect, it might as well have been a clone.
His replica's pale face paled even further. "Uh oh," it said.
W-what? "Who the hell are you?"
"S-Sky, it's me, Bridge," he – it – said, attempting a smile, and failing miserably. "I – I think there's been some sort of… accident."
"Accident?" Sky felt his face flush with anger at his own confusion. "What do you mean?"
His… clone… sighed. "Take a look at yourself."
Sky raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. He almost gagged at the sight.
Black leather gloves?
Green trim on his uniform?
Recipe for the 'Perfectly Buttery Toast' in his pocket?
Sky suddenly found it hard to breathe, as he realised what had happened. Oh my God… Bridge and I… like Wootox… there's been an exchange…
"Sky?" He looked up at the concerned voice, and wished he hadn't done so. Looking at his body – from within somebody else's – was an experience surreal enough to make him nauseous. Even after Wootox.
Sky stepped forward, grabbing his replica's – Bridge's – hand. "We need to get out of here, and figure this out." He cast a glare back at uncharacteristically surprised blue-grey eyes. "And when I say figure this out, I mean, get back to normal."
Bridge just nodded numbly as Sky shepherded him out of the room.
The forgotten D-Squad watched, mouths still agape.