Eric Myers, Wes, Jen, and all of Time Force belong to Disney/Saban.
I am using them without permission, but I am not and don't expect to make money from this.
Rated PG: language, violence.
You don't have to know much about Power Rangers Time Force or Nightwing to read this story. There's a couple of references you might not understand, but it shouldn't be a problem. This takes place in my slightly AU version of TF, after the TV show, and after Jen has returned permanently to 2003 in my series of stories.
This arose from a conversation with Jenny, one of my beta readers. If Nightwing and Eric Myers (without the Ranger powers) had a fight, who would win? This story is a one chapter standalone, and also a prologue to an upcoming PR Time Force story. Hope you enjoy.
Please review, I need feedback now!!
It was eerie out here. Dark, but with a full moon that cast its pale light over the buildings in front of me. Quite beautiful, in fact, the dimness lending shadowed mystery to what was undoubtedly only an ordinary storage yard.
What got to me most was the quiet, no city noises, none of the constant background of traffic, rumble of subway, occasional shriek of siren I was used to hearing back in Gotham or Bludhaven. Out here there was only the whisper of a breeze in the trees behind me. I could almost imagine myself alone in the world.
But of course I wasn't alone. Again I saw a movement, figures darting between the buildings. I felt my brows pull together under my mask as I watched them. I already knew they weren't human, but something about the way they moved set my teeth on edge, a stiffness and jerkiness, a mockery of the way a human being moves.
I took a moment to wonder what the hell I was doing there anyway. This was supposed to be a nice, relaxing vacation, far away from Gotham, away from Bruce, away from Bludhaven and all the people trying to beat me up, knife me, shoot me, or otherwise bump me off. Sometimes it can get depressing, knowing how many people there are who want me dead. The down side of being a costumed do-gooder.
Maybe just as important, I needed a break from my ex-partner. Whether as Batman or Bruce Wayne, he cast a considerable shadow. Whether as Robin, Dick Grayson, or now as Nightwing, I couldn't seem to get out from it. That was why I had become Nightwing in the first place, to leave my 'Boy Wonder' past behind, but it hadn't entirely worked... Unfortunately, getting as far away from Batman and Gotham as I could without leaving the country didn't make any real difference.
So, here I was, in Silver Hills, California. Not exactly a popular tourist trap, but exactly what I wanted; a city where I didn't know anyone, small enough to be quiet, big enough for me to disappear into, equipped with enough attractions to keep me busy. Maybe I had some subconscious idea of seeing the Power Rangers in action, too. We had a thing or two in common, after all.
I was on the highway when I saw them, driving back to my hotel from dinner and a late movie. Several -- things -- humanoid but clearly not human, their bodies constructed of metal beams and joints, gleaming silver in the moonlight. They ran across the pavement, darting through my headlights, vanishing into the dark at the side of the road.
Must have been some kind of reflex that made me pull over and stop. I sat and debated with myself for a few moments. It was none of my business. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation. It wasn't my freakin' city to protect anyway, they had their own superheroes. They didn't need Nightwing.
I lost the argument, quickly got into my costume, and set out across the field they had run into. I could see a small group of buildings in the distance. That was almost certainly where they were going. As I got closer I could see them moving.
And now I was hiding in a tree, watching them scurry about, apparently searching for something, every once in a while one of them carrying a box or crate out to a space not far from me. A small pile was building up. I had seen enough robberies to have a strong suspicion of what was going on. I waited for all the -- robots, or whatever they were -- to be occupied inside the buildings. Then I slid down from the tree and went to investigate.
The boxes were sitting in a clear area a few yards in front of the closest building. As I reached them I could see a sign over the doorway. Bio-Lab, Storage Complex B. I had heard of Bio-Lab. It was a big company, the biggest employer in town, and one of the biggest landowners. More interesting, from my point of view, was the fact that at least one of the Power Rangers worked for them. I was bent over the boxes and cartons, trying to read the labels, when a harsh voice spoke behind me.
"Who the hell are you?"
I whirled and stared. A man was standing a few yards away. He was dark-haired, about my size, and wearing a dark outfit with an incongruous red beret. As he stepped closer, into range of the light mounted over the building door, I saw a hard, handsome face with Asian eyes. It was glaring at me angrily. I glared back with both annoyance and respect. Very few people could have sneaked up on me like that.
"I could ask you the same question."
"But I asked you first. What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Just trying to be a good citizen."
"Very funny." He took a few more steps forward and snarled, "Just back away from those boxes. Get your hands up."
"Sorry, but I don't do surrendering." I had no idea who this guy was, but it seemed likely he had something to do with those robot thieves, judging by his possessive attitude toward the cartons they had piled up. I also didn't like the look of the small handgun he was wearing in a hip holster on what appeared to be a military-style uniform.
"Too bad." He drew the gun, a strange-looking weapon, and pointed it at me. "On the ground. Face down, hands where I can see 'em," he ordered.
Of course, no self-respecting costumed hero would have obeyed, and I was no exception. I was already crouching, and threw myself into a roll behind a couple of large cartons. Coming back to my feet, I leaped at him. With surprising speed, he ducked aside. I grabbed his arm, twisting as I went by, pulling both of us down to the ground. He landed on top of me with a thump, the impact driving my breath out, but I held on and we struggled for the gun.
He raised his left arm and thrust it at me, trying to drive my head back. I noticed a device strapped onto the wrist, like a large watch, as I blocked the blow and threw him off with a heave, rolling up in time to kick the gun out of his grip as he tried to aim it at me again. We both jumped to our feet.
If I had thought losing the weapon would stop him, I was disappointed. He charged, swinging a back-handed punch at my head, shooting a kick at my knees when I ducked. As I fell back he spun into a high kick at my head that forced me to duck again, then dropped to the ground for a leg sweep that I jumped over.
Tired of the defensive, I shot a side kick of my own at his body, making only glancing contact as he twisted aside. It left him off-balance, I drove forward with a one-two punch which he also avoided and then a kick, pivot, and a second kick which finally connected to his belly, knocking him back and doubling him over with a grunt. He recovered before I could move in again.
We were almost directly under the light as we both took a moment's breather. I saw his eyes widen and then narrow as he got his first good look at me. I sincerely hoped the black and midnight-blue costume intimidated him. Because this guy was good; skilled, fast, and strong.
I knew I had to get this over with, or try to, before my robotic friends decided to come back. I moved forward again, feinting with a stiff-fingered blow aimed at his throat. When he moved aside I dived, bracing myself on one hand and shooting both feet at his knees. To my amazement, he leaped, not only jumping over the kick, but somersaulting cleanly over my head, landing on his feet behind me.
My surprise let him catch me with a kick to the head. I pulled back and threw up an arm to deflect it, but the blow was surprisingly light. As he stepped back, not pressing his advantage but waiting while I got to my feet, the thought occurred to me that he had pulled his punch, so to speak.
"Showoff," I growled.
"Like to see you do better."
"Okay." I moved fast, hoping to catch him off-guard, leaping forward and into the air to aim a kick right at his face. As I expected, he bent backwards, ducking down and to the side. As I flew by, I twisted, whirling in midair, almost catching him with my other foot and landing facing him, ready to kick his ass, literally. But he was no longer there; he had continued his motion and back-flipped out of my reach. I tucked into a roll, pivoting as I came out of it, reversing and kicking backwards at him. I could have hit a sensitive spot, but something told me not to seriously hurt him. I got him in the chest, hard enough to make him stagger, then spun to face him and stood up. Again we took a moment's break, circling each other warily.
"You're good," he said.
"Thanks. So are you."
"Coming from you, that's a real compliment." I saw a flash of white teeth as he smiled.
"Who are you, anyway?" I demanded.
He smiled again, a not entirely friendly expression. "Call me Eric."
"Well, Eric, how about telling me what you and your robot pals are after?"
"Robot?" He straightened slightly, a hint of alarm on his face.
"Yeah. Like the ones coming out of that building."
If I had been trying to trick him, it would have worked beautifully. He spun to see several of the silver-gray figures I had followed from the highway emerging from one of the nearby buildings. They spotted us and suddenly started for us at a run. As if they had signaled somehow, more of them began to pour from the other buildings.
"Shit! Cyclobots?" he exclaimed.
"What?"
"Robots, like you said. Watch yourself." He backed towards me as they surrounded us, probably a couple dozen of them. I glanced at him suspiciously. Noticing, he added, "I'm not your enemy."
"You were doing a good imitation." But I moved back-to-back with him. "What are we up against?" I asked.
"If they haven't got blasters I can handle 'em." The circle of robots moved a little closer.
"What do you mean, you can handle them?"
"Just watch me."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him raise his left hand, turning the device on his wrist to his face. Then he shouted, "Quantum Power!" Suddenly it began to make sense, as sparkling light burst over him, blinding me for an instant. My sparring partner was the Quantum Ranger. He worked for Bio-Lab and had been there protecting their property, and had thought I was one of the thieves.
The light was gone in a moment, leaving him transformed, now wearing a skin-tight red and black outfit, his head completely enclosed in a helmet. Another, larger, weapon had appeared in a new holster on his hip. He pulled it out now.
"Get down!" As I dropped, he turned in a circle, blasting a beam of energy into the robots. When I looked again, several of them were down or damaged, jerking and sparking like the malfunctioning machinery they were.
The remainder charged at us. I heard his blaster firing again as two of them attacked me, reaching for me with metal hands. I ducked out of their grasp and kicked one in the middle, lunging to knock the other back with my shoulder. The next instant I was glad I hadn't used my fists as my foot protested its impact with hard, heavy metal. Still, I had driven both of them back. As they rushed me again from both sides, I slid out of the way, grabbing their arms to slam them together. I jumped away, as a blast from my Ranger ally took care of them permanently.
"Catch!" He tossed something at me. As I automatically caught it, I saw it was the small, strange handgun he had been wearing at first.
"I don't use guns," I told him.
"Make an exception!" He turned to fire at a couple of new attackers, bringing them down while pivoting to kick away a robot that had come up behind him.
He was right, I had little chance against them barehanded, and they were only machines. I fired at the closest ones, seeing a beam like a trail of sparks strike them. It was effective, but it took a couple of shots to stop them, and now more were coming from the farther buildings. I began to feel seriously afraid.
Evidently Eric came to the same conclusion. I saw him raise his arm to his face again. "Wes!" he shouted this time. Evidently the device was a communicator as well, I could hear a voice answer. There was too much noise for me to hear the words, but a moment later Eric was giving our location, and adding, "They look like Cyclobots, Wes! Must be thirty or forty!"
As he turned back to a couple of robots behind him, I saw a flash and a beam come from the shadows beside the building near us. It caught Eric in the back and staggered him. He whirled to return fire, and one of the robots got close enough to hit him in the head, sending him reeling. In the flash of energy fire, I saw a human figure with a blast gun, pale face, light blond hair, black clothing. He fired again at Eric, who jerked and fell to one knee.
"Hold it!" I shouted, aiming my gun at him. "Drop the weapon!"
The man froze, stared at me, then turned and ran, disappearing into the shadows. I cast a look back at Eric. He was back on his feet, slamming a gloved fist into a metal face, blasting another opponent with the other hand.
"You okay?" I yelled.
"Fine! Follow him!"
I took off, running after the shadowy blond man as he darted between the buildings and then disappeared inside a darkened doorway. It was almost pitch black inside, and I slowed down, letting my eyes adjust, listening for footsteps. They came, just a rustle of movement not far from me. I crept closer through a maze of cartons and machinery, silently. Moonlight glimmering through the windows showed me pale skin and hair like an apparition in the darkness.
As I moved the final few steps, flattened against a packing crate and hidden from his view, I pulled an escrima stick from its holder on my back, keeping the blaster in my other hand. Then I moved around the corner of the box to face him, a quick blow from the stick striking his arm, sending the weapon skidding over the floor. He shrank back, holding his wrist.
"Down," I said. "On the floor, hands above your head."
He stared. Then, "'Bots!" he called.
I glanced around, startled. Just as I decided he was bluffing, two of them came at me, grabbing at my arms. I had time to shoot one of them, and got a solid blow to the other's head with the stick before it swung a metal arm at me, deadly hard. I ducked and spun away, facing them again as the blond man grabbed up his blaster. He had a clear shot at me, but I dove for cover, leaping for the nearest crate.
The shot caught me in a flare of light and energy, sending a painful shock through my body. It wasn't a direct hit, I was moving too fast for the entire blast to get me, but it was enough, I felt myself hit the floor, tried to get up, and failed.
Through the fireworks in my head, I dimly heard shouting, and saw blasts come from the doorway where we had come in. I raised my head and looked, seeing three figures lit by flashes of blaster fire, Eric in his red and black suit followed by two more Rangers; another man in red and white, and a woman in pink and white. They ran toward us. Then it all faded, and went dark.
"They don't really look like Frax's Cyclobots."
"No, they're kind of -- unfinished looking."
"Could it be someone from my time again?"
"Beats me. What do you think, Eric?"
The voices began to take on meaning as I regained full consciousness. I instinctively kept my eyes shut, gave no sign I was awake, and listened. There were two unfamiliar voices, a man and a woman.
"Dunno. I'm more concerned about what they were stealing." That was Eric's voice.
The other man spoke again. "Electronics parts. Components."
"If they were stealing parts, I think they were building those Cyclobots here." The woman's voice, sounding firm and decisive. "Anyway, they look too crude to me to be Frax's work. But they may be based on his designs."
"Makes sense. Must be the same guys who stole the wrecked Cyclobots we had in storage," the other man said.
"Damn. Just when things had settled down," Eric said. I heard a sigh. "Jen, are you sure he's going to be all right?"
"Your friend? Treatment went well. He'll be fine."
I thought it was only polite to make my conscious presence known at this point. I opened my eyes and raised my head to look at them, wincing as a stab of headache rewarded me. "I feel just peachy, thanks," I said.
They stared at me. With Eric were a dark-blond man with a handsome and friendly face, also about my size, and a tallish woman, pretty, brunette, with a soft face but a resolute expression. In the light I could see they were all a few years older than I am, probably late twenties. He smiled at me, she frowned. Eric displayed no visible emotion.
The blond man came to the cot I was lying on as I sat up carefully. "Wes Collins," he said, sticking his hand out with a grin. "You're Nightwing, aren't you? Batman's friend? Wow!" We shook. I couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm. He waved toward the others. "Jen Scotts. And you've met Eric Myers."
"Yes, we've -- met." I rubbed my neck. "Should have known who you were. Seen your picture."
"It was dark. I didn't recognize you at first, either."
"Where am I?" The room looked more like a military infirmary than a hospital or clinic.
"This is the Silver Guardians' infirmary," Wes said, confirming my suspicion. I took another look at him, noticing he was wearing the same navy-blue uniform as Eric, complete with red beret.
"Silver Guardians. You're Bio-Lab's security force."
"Yeah. Eric and I are co-commanders. Jen's a -- friend." I could see the warmth in the glance that passed between them before he turned back to me. "You were hit pretty bad by that blaster. We brought you here to treat you."
"What's the prognosis?"
"You'll be back to normal in half an hour," Jen answered, finally giving me a smile.
"What happened back there? Who was that man? What were those -- things?"
They all exchanged a glance. I got the distinct impression they were wondering how much to tell me. Both men seemed to defer to Jen by unspoken consent.
"Someone in Silver Hills has been building those robots. Why, we don't know yet," she said, her voice cautious. "We think they were stealing parts from Bio-Lab."
"Did you get the guy who blasted me?"
She frowned again. "No, he got away while we were busy with his Cyclobots. At least he didn't get the equipment he was after."
"Who was he?"
"We don't know. Can you describe him?"
I shrugged. "Light skin. Very light blond hair. About average height and build. It was dark, and I never got a good look at him. Sorry."
"Don't be."
After trading another look with his friends, Eric spoke again. "What's your interest in this?" he asked. "Aren't you a little far from home?"
I grinned. "I'm supposed to be on vacation. Taking a break from crimebusting. I saw them running across the highway and decided to investigate." With a look at all of them I went on. "Listen, I'm supposed to head home in a couple of days, but I could stick around. Give you a hand with this."
"This is our problem. We're used to this kind of thing." Eric smiled a little stiffly. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm sure you have other things to do, and we -- er -- don't need your help." Both Wes and Jen snickered, for no apparent reason.
Half an hour later, I was seated in a black SUV, speeding down the highway towards where I had left my car. In the driver's seat Eric stared out at the road, face hard and determined. I watched his profile until he glanced at me.
"What?" he asked.
"What did Jen mean, about someone coming from her time?"
He looked at me, surprise and alarm crossing his face, then disappearing. "Nothing. You must have heard wrong."
"Wouldn't have anything to do with robots that are way beyond any technology I've ever seen, would it? Not to mention all your Ranger stuff."
"Don't ask." He shot me a sidelong glance, his face closed.
"If you say so." I smiled. I was willing to let them keep their secrets. I had enough of my own. And another question was on my mind. "You recognized me as soon as you saw me in the light, didn't you? That's why you started pulling your punches."
"Yeah." His voice was guarded.
"Why didn't you say so, and identify yourself? Why'd you keep fighting?"
He took a moment to answer, his lips quirking into a smile. "Wanted to see if I could beat you."
"Geez. Get a reputation, and everyone's out to get you."
He grinned unrepentantly. "I would have, too, if we weren't interrupted."
"No way. I was just about to drop you."
"Bullshit. I would've kicked your butt. Bet I could beat Batman, too."
"Are you crazy? He could mop the floor with both of us."
He grinned again. "Maybe I'll drop by Gotham City some day. Give you a rematch."
"Any time, any place." I was grinning as wide as he was.
"What's Batman like, anyway?" Curiosity was on his face now.
The inevitable question. "I was wondering when someone would get around to asking that." For some reason, for once I felt inclined to give a serious answer. "He's -- a hard man to get to know. Intense. Absolutely dedicated. Driven. Not very happy. But he's a great man. He's been good to me, mostly. Like a father."
"A father. That's great." There was an edge to his voice. Before I could wonder about it, he slowed as the headlights picked my car out of the darkness. "That it?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He got out of the car to say goodbye. On impulse, I reached into a compartment in one of my arm cuffs and pulled out a card.
"If you're ever in the Gotham area, look me up. You can reach me at this number. Or if you ever need help..."
Eric took it, his face showing real warmth, just for a moment. Suddenly it hit me, who he reminded me of. The surface coldness, the arrogance, the toughness, the kind heart I could sense underneath. He wasn't really like Bruce, but there were similarities.
"Thanks," he said. "You know where to find me, if you need some help yourself."
"So long. Good luck with that guy and his robots."
"Good luck to you too. See ya."
We shook hands, I turned to start for my car, and he opened his door and slid inside. I watched him drive off as I started to change clothes, feeling the odd conviction that given half a chance, we could become good friends. But our lives led in different directions. With a sigh, I pulled out and started back into town, toward my hotel and some much-needed sleep.