Blue Ranger stirred in the stiff barracks cot, the hum of the command center faint in the background. It wasn't Emma's couch, where he often drifted off, or even his workstation, where exhaustion usually claimed him. Sleep in the barracks was always fleeting and restless. Maybe it was the rigid dimensions of the cot or the barracks' sterile atmosphere. These days, all he needed was a place to crash—somewhere quiet, away from the constant rustling and chattering of people who knew him as Blue.
He had finally fallen asleep at 0600, mind weighed down by the upcoming training exercises. Nova's voice echoed in his neural link exactly six hours later.
"Time to wake up, Blue. Simulators are ready. It took six hours to compile the failure exercises. It's now 1200 hours." His mind jolted awake, and he blinked in surprise. "Did I really sleep that long?" he muttered.
Nova's voice chimed in with a touch of humor. "I might have helped a little. Altered your brain chemistry to keep you asleep a bit longer. You needed the rest—especially with today's simulation being particularly challenging." She paused, then added with a teasing lilt, "Plus, it's not like you were going to wake up on your own. I had to do all the heavy lifting here, you know. Maybe next time I'll let you sleep through your alarm and we'll see how that turns out."
Red and Black would have been disappointed to hear he'd slept in. They were always up at dawn, rigorously training. Red never let a day slip by without preparation—combat drills, leadership tests, strategy sessions. Black was relentless in his own way—physical training and discipline always his focus.
Thinking of Red and Black brought a pang of nostalgia, a reminder of their unwavering dedication. Red's disciplined leadership and Black's physical resilience were qualities he admired. He knew they would both be up at dawn, pushing themselves to the limit, refusing to be anything less than the best. Pink? She wouldn't have cared. She usually slept until three or four in the afternoon, too busy living her life like a whirlwind—partying all night, breaking hearts, and draining the vitality from whomever she went home with the night before. If anything, she'd probably have laughed at him for even worrying.
And Yellow? Did Aquitarians even sleep? She claimed they did something similar, but Blue could never quite grasp it. Aquitarians slept in various ways based on their genealogies. Yellow, like her family, would camouflage herself while her metabolism and heart rate lowered, blending in with her environment. Others of her race sought deprivation pods, while some formed cocoons of mucus around themselves. If she were still alive, Yellow would likely be free swimming in one of the colossal tanks they built. Her very presence seemed to enhance the processes they were studying inside the tanks—what Blue called aquariums, though the Aquitarians saw them as so much more.
Calling them habitats was a simplistic way to grasp something far more intricate. They housed entire ecosystems of Aquitarian aquatic life, each one adapting and thriving in Earth's oceans. These tanks served as living laboratories, places where the Aquitarians could monitor the health, behavior, and adaptation processes of their native species in an alien environment. It wasn't just about survival—it was about fostering growth, creating a harmony between two worlds that had once been separate. The sheer scale of it was astounding, each tank brimming with life and purpose, a testament to Aquitarian ingenuity and their commitment to Earth's restoration. It was how Aquitarians had revitalized Earth's seas—restoring coral reefs, cleansing the waters of pollution, even repairing damage caused by radiation fallout post-Countdown. The tanks came to life when Yellow swam in them, filled with energy and vibrance as if her presence revitalized the water itself.
Blue admired the Aquitarians. They were warm and honest people, largely because their entire species evolved with the ability to camouflage, which also acted like a mood ring—changing colors to reflect their emotions. Whether this was a side effect, a boon, or something else entirely, it made it nearly impossible for them to hide their true feelings. Their skin would shift in shades and patterns that revealed emotions like fear, joy, anger, or deceit, and anyone who knew the color schemes could immediately discern their true thoughts.
This trait made them terrible poker players but incredibly trustworthy allies. Honesty was biologically ingrained in Aquitarians; every subtle shift in tone or hesitation appeared on their skin, making deception nearly impossible.
Yellow's inability to lie had actually saved their team on several occasions while being captured. She had lied to the team—a rarity that none of them could have anticipated—and the team recognized it immediately. They used that deception against the Elvanurus, relying on the fact that their captors wouldn't be able to decipher the truth from Yellow's behavior. The Elvanurus never figured out how the rest of the team knew the truth before it was too late to matter. It was one of those moments that turned the tide, the kind of brilliance that only worked because Yellow had mastered the language of her own biology for the sake of those she trusted.
Aquitarians could sense deception among their own with an acuity surpassing even the Rangers' advanced AI systems. Their culture valued truth inherently, making deception something they couldn't fully grasp or accept. Their inability to lie, to even understand the purpose behind a falsehood, made them not just honest but profoundly genuine in their interactions. It was one of the many reasons Blue trusted them implicitly.
When Earth first allied with alien races, the Aquitarians were the first to be invited to colonize because they lived in the oceans. Underwater cities didn't impact humans, making it an easy decision. However, humanity never expected the boon they granted in return for that initial selfishness—the rejuvenation of the oceans, rivers, and lakes across the world. Now, their cities thrived beneath the oceans—marvels of design, uniquely Aquitarian in their intricate beauty and natural integration with the underwater environment.
Aquitarian cities were created inside of giant bubbles that acted as both a hard shield and a permeable barrier. These bubbles were unique in that aquatic life and Aquitarians could pass freely through them, allowing for seamless movement between the city and the ocean beyond. Whether swimming or walking, one could enter or leave the bubble with ease. The bubbles offered protection from external threats while maintaining a connection to the surrounding marine ecosystem. Blue didn't understand the science behind it, but the sight was mesmerizing—an entire city thriving within a shimmering, translucent sphere, pulsating with the energy of life.
Aquameris in the Pacific, Sephira in the Indian Ocean, Auroralis beneath the Arctic ice—these cities were like living organisms, pulsing with energy and thriving beneath the waves. Each of them contained vast sections devoted to different purposes: research, habitation, communal areas, and aquatic farms. Instead of tunnels, the cities relied on unique teleport pads developed by the Aquitarians, which allowed instantaneous travel between different parts of their underwater world. These teleport pads could only be activated by an Aquitarian or authorized for use by non-Aquitarians, ensuring that their culture could grow in safety and seclusion. Even if a human somehow gained unauthorized entry into one of their cities, they would be immediately recognized due to their skin and the weight of their movements, making it nearly impossible for an outsider to blend in.
Auroralis had always been Blue's favorite. He loved the idea of an otherwise inhospitable area being colonized through sheer ingenuity. It lay beneath the thick Arctic ice, where the cold currents flowed, and the city lights created a dazzling dance of colors against the icy ceiling above. Blue's parents were archaeologists, and they often told him stories about the Roman goddess Aurora, after whom the city was named. Those stories had always filled him with awe, and the connection to Auroralis made it even more special.
The Atlantic city was nearly named Atlantis, which caused an unexpected stir among the Aquitarians. They were shocked by the story of a great city swallowed by the sea on Earth, and it was considered a diplomatic misstep in early dealings with humanity. Earth's leaders had groaned in unison, not wanting to deal with any conspiracists who survived Countdown or insult the memory of the actual city, should it ever be found. Maristhos, they finally settled on—a name pulled from Aquitarian legend.
Maristhos was the first Aquitarian entrusted with Ranger powers by Eltar, Zordon's home world. After serving his people and protecting his world, Maristhos established what is now the capital city of Aquitar. The original name is difficult for most non-Aquitarians to pronounce, but it roughly translates into 'Serenity of the Turbulent Current.'
These underwater marvels not only provided homes for the Aquitarians but also served as hubs of ecological restoration. The Aquitarians had not only adapted to Earth's oceans but actively healed them, and their cities became symbols of that dedication. They were testaments to their harmonious philosophy—built to coexist, to protect, and to foster a thriving underwater world that helped restore Earth's aquatic environments to a vitality that hadn't been seen in generations.
Blue stretched and rubbed his face, picturing his team as if it were ten years ago. Red would be focusing on combat drills and leadership exercises, Black pushing through intense physical regimens. Yellow would be briefing her team, continuing her mission to restore Earth's oceans—a testament to her philosophy of finding serenity in chaos. Pink? She'd be just waking up after a long night, carefree and full of mischief, living life with her whirlwind energy.
"Mind on the present, Blue," Nova nudged, her voice carrying an almost calculated cheerfulness, the kind designed to get a response. "The simulators won't run themselves, and it's time to show me something exceptional today. I'm expecting more than just adequate—better timings, improved precision, sharper strategies, and creative thinking that breaks the mold. No more coasting on old habits. You need to be faster, more intelligent, adaptive to every nuance. It's all about thinking ahead, predicting, outmaneuvering. Let's push the envelope and get a new personal best. Show me why getting out of that stiff barracks cot was worth it."
He sighed, pushing off the cot, grabbing his gear. Today's simulation was one of Nova's infamous train-for-failure sessions—missions that got progressively harder until failure was inevitable. Nova's pride was evident in her voice when she spoke of it, almost gleeful. "I put a lot of work into this one, Blue. I can't wait to see how you'll handle it," she'd said. Starting with a Zord-on-monster battle, the exercises were built to push him beyond his limits. These simulations weren't about winning—they were about embracing failure and learning from it. In war, there had been no shortage of harsh lessons.
As Blue exited the empty barracks, the weight of the day settled on him, his team still on his mind.
He approached the treadmill, activating it with a quick touch of the console. The familiar hum of the machine filled the space as Nova's voice chimed in, efficient as always. "Set the incline to five percent, Blue. Elevation warm-up—ten minutes, heart rate target is 140 beats per minute. You'll need to push yourself, but it should be a comfortable pace for you," she instructed, her voice unwavering. "Keep your strides even, focus on your breathing. The treadmill's at a five-degree incline, and we're aiming for maximum activation. This isn't just to wake you up—it's about getting your body ready for the simulations." He adjusted the settings, feeling the incline rise beneath his feet. Ten minutes was all he needed to loosen up, get his blood flowing, and start prepping his body for the day ahead. As his legs found their rhythm, his mind started to catch up. Nova continued, "I expect steady progression here. We're talking higher peak performance: improved recovery time, and tighter muscle activation. We need to push limits today."
"Nova," he said, breaking the silence. "Any updates for me? Start with general Alliance events, then move on to general Earth news. After that, cover any private military updates meant for me, and finally, any top-secret Ranger-related news—something only we can access. What's the latest?"
"Of course, Blue," Nova responded instantly, her tone casual but efficient as always. "Let's start with the biggest announcement. Earlier today, on the Alliance News Network (ANN), King Dax of Edenoi revealed that his people are preparing to swarm. The broadcast showed vast preparations on Edenoi—thousands of drones and cruisers, all in perfect formation. The Edonites have been busy, and it seems they're about to take the next big step. It's impressive, really. Their capital ship, Doomsting, has expanded even further, almost rivaling a small city now. And from the looks of it, the swarming is just the beginning of what they're planning. You could practically feel the energy and anticipation in that broadcast, Blue."
That got Blue's attention. Edenoi had been amassing military forces for the past decade, building more cruisers and drones than any other race in the Intergalactic Confederation. Doomsting, their capital ship at Ceres, had grown to the size of a city. And Duskmourn, their infiltrator, had become a specialized stealth-capital ship variant, unmatched in combat simulations. He had seen Duskmourn wipe out entire enemy fleets in the simulator—it was terrifying.
Blue absorbed that. The Edonites were like insects, at least in some ways. Their behavior reminded him of bees, particularly their instinct to swarm when a colony grows too large or a new queen needs to establish a hive. They built underground cities, and though only a few structures extended above ground for visitors, their underground sprawl was massive. Now, King Dax's twin children would be leading this new swarm, settling far from Edenoi and expanding their influence within the Confederation. It was almost a natural progression for them, part of their species' life cycle, like bees instinctively forming new colonies.
"It feels almost inevitable, doesn't it?" Nova's voice broke through his thoughts. "Like swarming is just what they do, like it's in their DNA."
Blue nodded, even if she couldn't see him. "Yeah, it's part of their nature. Growth, expansion... It's not surprising. It's just like a hive splitting when it gets too large. In any other era, that might have been concerning, but the Confederation trusts them—for now."
Before Blue could think further on it, Nova interrupted again.
"There's another message, Blue," Nova said, her tone softening as if bracing for the impact of its contents. "It's from Wei Lǐngyuè."
At the mention of her name, Blue felt a familiar knot tightening in his chest. The hologram flickered to life, and there she stood—Imperator Wei Lǐngyuè, her expression as cold and sharp as the snow-capped peaks of the Sangara mountains.
"Joseph," she began, her voice calm but carrying unmistakable authority. "I've received reports about last night. Six injured marines, all because of a bar brawl. This behavior is unacceptable for someone of your station. You are supposed to be an example, not a liability. I know the circumstances might have been complicated, but you need to exercise better control. The optics of this are disastrous, and as the Imperator, I cannot afford for you to be seen this way. You're better than this, and I need you to prove it—not just to me, but to everyone who looks up to you.""
Blue bristled at her words, suppressing his frustration. It wouldn't matter to her that the marines had started it, or that his reaction had been triggered by PTSD. To Wei Lǐngyuè, the situation was simple—a public incident, six injured soldiers, and a stain on their reputation.
She had risen to power during the chaos of Countdown, uniting the East into what became the megacity Sangara. Her leadership, characterized by pragmatic and often brutal decisions, had saved countless lives but had also left a cold exterior. Despite her stern demeanor, she had taken Blue in—not just as a soldier, but as the last connection to her lost family. Blue respected her deeply, but he often struggled with the sense that her care was buried beneath layers of duty and expectation.
"I expect a full report by 1700," she continued. "Don't make me regret my trust in you."
The hologram flickered out, leaving the space around him colder, emptier. Blue stood there, silent, as conflicting emotions washed over him. He had faced death countless times, but nothing was as difficult as facing Wei's judgment. She was the Imperator, the leader who had rebuilt the world from ashes, and despite their shared past, he always felt like more of a responsibility than a person to her. He knew she cared for him, but that care felt more like an extension of her burdens rather than genuine affection. Blue stood there, silent, as the rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. He had faced death many times, had led men into impossible battles, had endured more than any one person should. But moments like this—facing Wei's judgment, knowing that no excuse would be enough—were harder to bear than any fight. She wasn't just a leader; she was the Imperator, the woman who had united the East and rebuilt the world from ashes. He respected her deeply, but the shadow of her son, the weight of the family they had both lost, always lingered between them.
She had saved him after Countdown, taking him under her wing through the Alphabet program. But no matter how much time had passed, Blue could never shake the feeling that he was more of a responsibility to her than a person. To her, he wasn't just another soldier—he was the last fragment of a world she had once loved, a living reminder of her own failures and sacrifices. And though he knew there was care beneath the coldness, Blue couldn't shake the doubt that he would ever truly be more than an echo of what she had lost."Do you want help with the report?" Nova asked, pulling him back to the present.