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Old January 2nd, 2019, 08:36 PM #58
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Call the 5-4-1
Joined: Jan 2005
Posts: 4,166
Call the 5-4-1
BattleRanger's Avatar
Joined: Jan 2005
Posts: 4,166

Chapter Eight

Without dispute, the great beast known as Serpentara was the largest vessel in the Nemesian fleet- however, it was deceptively quick for a vessel of its size, able to achieve speeds in excess of thirty-five thousand kilometers per hour on its own merit- and its class four hyperdrive meant it could sustain sublight speeds for no more than six hours before recharging.

As it lifted off from the open hangar bay, Serpentara overshadowed the five Zords of the Eltarian Power Rangers. Shifting its lower torso, it landed just beyond the makeshift space ports on its massive hind legs. Standing upright, its arms folded out from its body, as its head shifted forward.

From the cockpit of his Thoat Zord, Umon watched Serpentara’s transformation with urgent trepidation. “That’s a new trick,” he said, glancing across the field to the Red Ranger.

“Give them hell!” Zordon shouted, firing the Titan’s repeating blasters at the serpent. Zordon watched helplessly as the rounds impacted against Serpentara’s hull with no damage. He slammed his fist against the console in frustration and keyed up his comm.

“Mi, angle your cannons to hit those joints in the armor. That will be our best shot,” the Red Ranger ordered. Diving across the torso of the massive machine, the Pantheryx Zord unleashed a salvo of supercharged bursts of energy that had no effect on the great dragon.


“Milord, the plasma batteries are at full charge,” Rubitron instructed, as he stepped onto Serpentara’s bridge.

The dark Lord of Nemesis then gave the order. “Fire when ready.” From the neck of the ancient dragon came tendrils of electromagnetic energy that coalesced into a single spark within the dragon’s maw. A massive bolt of plasma burst forward from the growing spark, setting the air ablaze. Striking the five Zords, the blast ripped through the earth and sky, rocking the great dragon with its own concussive force. The full discharge cycle of the cannon completed, Zedd peered through the clouds of smoke to survey the damage.


Zordon cursed as the energy from Serpentara’s plasma blast spilled across the viewports of his Zord. Buckling under the heat and force, he cried out as the smell of ozone filled his nostrils. Trying to catch his breath, he fought to reroute any available energy to the particle shielding- but the blast proved to be too much. As flames licked the outer hull, he screamed into his comms, “Initiate combination sequence!”

From the inferno left in the wake of the blast, the other Rangers heard the command and followed. Danok was surprised to find that there was enough energy left in the Zords to process the command. From hidden ports on the Zords came slender flexweave tendrils of nanobots that stretched across from Zord to Zord. Each vehicle itself underwent its own individual metamorphosis, taking a humanoid shape. Where the five Zords once stood, now came the avatar of the Great Beast God, Typhonis.

“Rangers, even in this form, we cannot withstand another burst. That cannon will take some time to recharge, so let’s make the most of it,” Zordon instructed. Charging across the battlefield, Typhonis drew two jagged swords from its back as booster engines in its feet fired up.

Cross the space between itself and Serpentara, Typhonis dove at the great dragon blade first. The insurmountable size of Serpentara was its greatest defense. The combined might of the five Guardian Beasts posed little threat to Zedd’s monstrosity. However, what the assembled Zords lacked in size, they more than made up for in speed. Striking and moving, Typhonis was never in the same airspace around the serpent for very long.


A full-size Lamian male, Goldar stood in the corner of the small chamber, his ravensteel wings folded against his broad shoulders. He had accepted his assignment without complaint, but he knew he was better suited for more pressing matters. His brother, Silverback, had been promoted to war general, as had his uncle, Rubitron. Goldar knew his time would come- and while he respected the command of the human who had assigned him to such a menial post, he now questioned why he was guarding a female human no larger than the dinner he had had the night before.

Sitting across from the golden-hued warrior, Rita Repulsa contemplated her own fate. She had successfully executed missions of great discretion all across the stars, whether it was reconnaissance missions to Tryforia or sabotaging rebel terrorist on Analast. She had more than earned her reputation as one of the greatest spies in the Eurolean Arm. However, it would seem that her luck had taken a drastic turn for the worst.

Concussive forces rocked the chamber, forcing Goldar to brace himself against the door frame. He grumbled, mostly to himself, and re-centered his mass.

“What do they call you, goldenrod?” Rita quarried. Goldar barked an incendiary response that failed to offend the Green Ranger. Smirking, Rita returned the volley.

“I’d expect nothing less from a lap dog of the empire.”

Eyes full of malice, Goldar starred daggers through the human female. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d cut it from your mouth.”

“You don’t have to threaten me with violence. I’m unarmed and your captive. My Power Coin is sealed beyond my grasp.”

“You may be of the weaker sex, but your reputation precedes you, Repulsa.”

“Make no mistake,” Rita began, “Unlike your race, my gender does not impose any specific disadvantages.”

“So says the one sitting captive,” the Lamian returned.

“Obviously you know my name- should I take another guess at yours?”

Through fanged teeth, he growled in response. “My given name is Goldar, of the Nightshade Pack.”

Goldar … a suitable name for a guard dog.”

“Are all female humans such masters of language?” he asked.

“Some would say so. I’m a little surprised, Gold-dog. Lamians aren’t exactly known for their quick wit.”

With a gruff sigh, Goldar relaxed a little. “I did not choose my appointment- but I am honored to be of service to Lord Zedd.”

Rubbing the edges of an open wound on his arm, he growled low. A quick inventory of his breast sleeve produced a small nugget of gold which he eyed with particular interest. While most members of his family practiced forms of tribal magic, Goldar had always fostered a penchant for the arts of alchemy. As the golden hued metal began to curiously change from solid to liquid, the Lamian carefully introduced the deposit into his wound, the elemental tendrils seeping into his skin and bonding to his form. Invoking the mystical transformation, Goldar felt a cold strength rush into his body, his hairs standing on end.

Rita sat in awe at the healing that had occurred right before her eyes. Ever the opportunist, she decided to bide her time, recognizing that the hulking monstrosity may have more worth as an ally than her enemy.

“My friend, how did you do that?”
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