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[icon] Fic: History Repeat - Tired of bullshit dressed in gold.
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Subject:Fic: History Repeat
Time:09:51 pm
Current Mood:determineddetermined
Fic: History Repeat
Characters: Dru Harrington (mentioning Tyzonn), Doggie Cruger (mentioning Daggeron).
Author's Note: Attempting to explain actors playing two different characters in different seasons. Challenge to self.

Dru was all of six years old when his mother shoved a folder of pictures under his nose.

“Choose one.”

“Why, mamar?” he questioned.

The spines on her shoulders quivered, with fear or annoyance, he couldn’t tell. “We aren’t accepted like this, Dru. We take human form to pass with the majority of aliens.” Her beautiful purple skin melted, becoming the colour of an unripe teeka, her shoulders losing their spines, growing smaller and stranger with every second.

Dru just stared, his beautiful mamar transformed into this…thing.

“I chose this form when I was your age.” She fingered the long yellow…strings that hung from her head. “As I grew, so did it. The majority of the forms we as Tangarians take are living people, it’s easier to copy than to create.”

Dru still didn’t understand. “But why? Why don’t we want to be who we are?”

His mother’s copied face crumpled, and her…were they eyes?...started leaking. “It’s not up to us, Dru. Society wouldn’t accept us…as we are.” She wiped her face, starting from the bumps over each eye down to the odd protrusion between them.

Dru stared at his mother, then down at the pictures. He wanted to get this over with, so his mamar would change back and be his mamar and not this strange human in his bedroom.

He pointed to one, a human that may have looked like the façade his mamar was showing, or maybe not, they all looked the same to him. “That one.”

His mamar glanced at it, and the red things at the bottom of her face curled up at the sides. “That’s a former Power Ranger, you know. His name is Tyzonn.” She quickly wiped her eyes again, to the side this time, and held out a soft, strange, five-fingered hand to him. “Come. I’ll teach you how to change.”

Once Sirius fell, more than a few changes had to be made.

Doggie Cruger drifted on autopilot for the next six years. He barely reconnected with SPD. He didn’t advance from nominal foot soldier for five and a half years.

When he woke up from his grief it took him less than eight Earth months to go from grunt to first in line for the Commander position.

The first Lieutenant position he came to hit one snag and one snag only.

The only language he spoke was Syrian.

The cutting edge of technology at that time relied on a quirk of the Power Rangers – a dead-on translator. The tiniest fragment of Morphing power rested in a chip the size of a pup’s whisker. And it let him speak any language he came across.

The doctor configuring the chip had given him so many options, so many voices. Terran languages, so unlike the guttural whines of his own. Versions of Standard, with such strange pronunciations – long vowels and short consonants and even shorter actual words. Each voice was deep, the highest tone so much lower than Isinia’s gentle growl, lower than any of his family’s barks.

He had been overwhelmed, and chose one of the first three voices he heard.

The doctor had smiled, her face soft and eyes shining. “That’s based on an Earth Ranger, you know. The Solar Knight, I think. Daggerus, Daggeron.”

He hadn’t even twitched an eyelid. The name meant nothing to him, not until twenty-three years later when he first established SPD on Earth. Daggeron, the Solaris Knight. He’d borrowed the voice of a leader, a mentor to the Mystic Force Power Rangers. Possibly the most mysterious of all the Ranger teams, with only the exception of Xander Bly, who’d become the owner of a string of multimedia stores stretching from continent to continent. The identities of the remaining Mystic Rangers were the closest kept secret since the original Morphin’ team under Zordon.

He’d felt honored. What was he but the last of a dead race, trying to block the invasion of an army – like holding back a tidal wave with a colander and an outstretched hand?

He’d tried to use his voice responsibly. Never yelled at his cubs. (Tried. Tried to never yell at his cubs.) Taught them Ranger history. (Apparently not well enough. An Overdrive Ranger the exact lookalike of Dru Harrington should have sparked some sort of bells.)

He’d tried to make a past mentor proud.

And when Grumm finally went down, he thought he may have succeeded.
comments: Promo time? Previous Entry Share Next Entry

Time:2008-02-24 03:44 pm (UTC)
I really like how you linked them together like that. Very cool. :)
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Subject:Re: Wow.
Time:2008-02-24 09:52 pm (UTC)
Thank you. :D
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

[icon] Fic: History Repeat - Tired of bullshit dressed in gold.
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