(New) The Reluctant Ranger Chapter 70

This is where the big changes really start to kick in. It's also where I'm up to with reworking the original ending. (Lots of big changes coming) Any feedback on this is appreciated, especially compared to the old version.

The bite of Guiana’s blade was a sensation that Nicole was well familiar with, yet it was still satisfying to watch the smug satisfaction of a battle all but won fall away to the cold realization that things hadn’t gone entirely as planned.  The sparks flew off of Nicole, the void of energy cascading over her newly morphed form.  As much as she wanted to bask in the growing surprise on the enemy General’s face, Nicole wasn’t able to stop and enjoy it.

Her sleek blades were replaced with jagged daggers as they cut through the air, now moving with all the speed that Nicole could extract from the Source energy burning through her.  Guiana hadn’t reacted fast enough, said blades scored a deep cut along the General’s collar as she attempted to put distance between them.  Nicole didn’t let her go uncontested, kicking off in pursuit.  Guiana snarled, her movements accelerating at an alarming rate, forcing Nicole to draw deeper upon the Source to keep ahead of the woman. 

Grace hadn’t stood idle either, she charged forward with a bright crimson glow.  Somehow Grace beat her to Guiana, slamming into her with all the power of one of Bartran’s heaviest blows.  Nicole’s eyes widened as Grace continued to move with a savage fury, her axe sending shockwaves with each blow that Guiana barely managed to deflect. 

All of that had transpired in the span of a single heartbeat.

Digging deep, Nicole pushed herself to keep up, knowing she would regret it, but they couldn’t lose the advantage while they had it.  The moment Guiana regained the upper hand they would be fighting to keep the momentum that they had stolen.  Nicole wasn’t about to let that happen, not while there was still strength within her. 

The distance was closed in an instant; three more clashes rippled through the air before she caught up.  Nicole wasn’t going to be left out and joined in the assault, her own blades cutting the very air.  Strikes aimed at vital points were turned away, but Guiana was forced to ignore glancing blows to her limbs if she hoped to keep her vitals whole.  None of the cuts had time to bleed at the speeds they were moving, yet she could see the growing concern on Guiana’s face as the small slices continued to multiply. 

Nicole was thankful to have Grace by her side, keeping the enemy general’s full attention with her heavy blows.  That allowed them to keep the Sylan General on the backfoot through teamwork.  Unfortunately, the strain was building and Nicole was fighting against the inferno that had been growing exponentially within her.  She couldn’t keep it up, and given how she had just handed the enemy a piece of critical information, she didn’t want to give away an obvious weakness so freely. 

Guiana continued to deflect Grace’s strikes, letting more of Nicole’s through with each exchange in an effort to keep the fight going.  The cuts were accumulating, with purple blood barely beginning to well up from her injuries.  They were all moving so far beyond human norms that it was difficult to keep that in mind. 

The thin blade snaked towards Grace, only to be turned away by her axe.  The strike didn’t stop, only shifted, and Nicole was forced to turn herself intangible to avoid it.  The blade passed through her, the momentum preserved, but Nicole had other ideas.  She dropped the shift, turning solid once more, and locked her own arm around Guiana’s. 

The General only had a moment to realize her mistake as Grace’s shoulder slammed home.  Nicole held tight for the barest of moments, letting the sensation of Guiana’s shoulder socket being torn by the force of the impact before she phased herself to keep from being launched with the Sylan.

Nicole dropped low and kicked off, intent on keeping up the pressure.  Guiana hit the ground once, shattering concrete with the first impact only to right herself and come down feet first before the next.  She carved through the asphalt as she jammed her blade deep, bleeding her momentum even as the Rangers pursued. Guiana glared with unfocused eyes only for her gaze to hastily sharpen at their rapid approach.  She let out a hissing breath as her blade rose up and blocked the flurry that Nicole brought down upon her.  With only one working arm, Guiana couldn’t keep up, and yet… 

It still wasn’t enough for a decisive blow, and the pressure within was past the tipping point.  Nicole was now pushing the General, which meant she was nearing the critical threshold for her ability to handle the Source. 

Yeah, it was going to suck in the morning.

Grace caught back up in a storm of motion, her axe flashing out as though it weighed nothing, but each blow impacted with the fury of a goddess of war.  The couple pushed hard, knowing they were on borrowed time.  Guiana’s single blade was moving faster than Nicole had ever seen, the air sparking with flames from the friction of its passing.  Despite Guiana’s raw abilities, the injury was tipping the scales.

There was realization in the General’s eyes and her expression shifted to grim determination.  She touched the emblem on her chest, bringing a faint glow to the Sylan symbol.  Nicole redoubled her effort to catch her, only for a blinding flash to interpose itself between them.  Despite the darkening of her visor, Nicole still found herself blinking away spots as she was forced to backpedal away. 

A hulking figure materialized, standing to his full height as he loomed over the pair of Rangers.  Even without a clear view, Nicole knew exactly who it was that now stood before them.  Despite herself, Nicole found herself swallowing.  Gripping his sword, the figure sneered down at them as he crossed his lower arms and rested the blade on his shoulder, jostling the pendant around his neck. 

General Bartran had arrived. 

A calm dread filtered through the air as Nicole stood shoulder to shoulder with Grace.  They were essentially a team of two now, and had little hope of surviving the coming fight.  Maraline wasn’t a combatant.  Devon and Jeff were only just now returning with medical supplies.  They were completely fucked.

The only upside was that their enemy wasn’t completely unscathed.

Guiana tried to maintain her poise, but Nicole didn’t miss how her knees wobbled.  Her injuries were catching up with her, but neither of them were in a position to take advantage of that weakness.  Not with Bartran bearing down upon them. 

“You’ve made a mess of things,” Bartran said, his eyes boring into Nicole, but the words weren’t meant for her.  “Though I can see why.  Interesting that the anomaly can still morph.” 

“Yes.  I was caught off guard and they scored a lucky blow.” 

“Hardly,” Bartran said.  “The energy readings coming from her are dangerously high.  She’s not far off from another mishap like last time.” 

They were talking like they weren’t even there, but his eyes told her that wasn’t the case.  None of the tidal amusement from their first meeting was present.  This was the gaze of a warrior that knew what he faced.  We weren’t an idle curiosity anymore.  We were a threat.

“It’s been a minute,” Nicole said, her fingers tensing around her daggers.  “I see you’re healed up.” 

“I have been for some time now,” the General said, his eyes flicking over towards Maraline.  “I needed to be sure, and I must say I am disappointed.” 

“Such a waste,” Guiana echoed, though there was something there that she couldn’t place.  “Will we be disposing of her?” 

“Yes,” Bartran said.  

Nicole snarled within her helmet and took a step forward.  “You’ll have to get through me first.” 

“And me,” Grace immediately echoed.  “No matter what comes, no matter the odds, we will stand against it!”

Nicole offered her girlfriend a nod, then firmed up her stance, ready to face the invaders.

“Worms, one and all,” Bartran said, hefting his sword with ease.  “Very well.  If you wish to die in battle, I shall grant you that honor.” 

No more warning was needed as Bartran exploded into motion, clearing the distance between them with a burst of debris kicked up behind him.  The shockwave that followed would have shattered glass had any remained.  Grace moved first, bringing her axe down on the General.  He brought one of his four arms up and caught it by the blade, wrenching it aside.  Nicole couldn’t do anything to help as she ducked the swing of his sword and attempted to move into his guard, but the man still had two free arms remaining and put them to good use. 

One fist came for her face, and she moved to block.  That meant she missed the fist that buried itself in her gut.  The kinetic shield flared and sparked as Nicole doubled over, dropping to her knees.  Despite the barrier absorbing most of the impact, it still felt like someone had hit her with a sledgehammer.

Grace was tossed aside, her axe vanishing in red sparks only to reform in her hand a moment later as she landed.  Her helmet turned towards Guiana, but the other General just stood there, watching. 

“Did you think our battle would be the same as before?” Bartran asked, his voice calm despite how deep and commanding it came across.  “You were a curiosity then, something to indulge.  That indulgence cost me, and I do not plan to give you another chance to humiliate me.” 

“Really now?” Nicole couldn’t help but say as she pushed herself back up.  “You’re already toying with us again, and this time we have twice the fully powered Rangers as before.” 

Bartran’s foot came down with the weight of a mountain, but Nicole had already shifted to her intangible state.  She ghosted through his limb and away, reforming a short distance away before kicking off the ground and landing in a crouch.

The General didn’t pursue.  He just stood there and watched her, all while subtly angling his body in a way that kept Grace in his peripheral vision.  He had two opponents of equal danger, and one without known factors.  

“General Guiana, retrieve the traitor Maraline,” Bartran said, not looking away from the Rangers.  “I do believe you should still be capable of that much.” 

“Yes ser,” Guiana said, though his voice was strained.

The injured General turned and began to walk towards Maraline.  Her movements were strained, but Nicole had little doubt that she could still put up a fight despite the visible injuries they had inflicted.  Not waiting for an invitation, Maraline darted forward, a spearhand strike aimed for her mentor.  The General batted it aside along with the following strikes.  Despite many of her implants being replaced, Maraline struggled to keep up with the woman who raised her.  Nicole was forced to let it happen, because she had bigger problems sitting right in front of her. 

“Good, you aren’t foolish enough to try and interfere,” Bartran said.  “Had you attempted, I would have killed you where you stood.” 

“You’re welcome to try,” Nicole said with false bravado. 

Bartran gave her a measured look.  “A spent warrior should know when to leave their ego behind.  You may be a danger, but you are not a threat.  Not in your current state.” 

Much as Nicole might want to argue, she knew he wasn’t far off.  She had maybe one or two exchanges left in her before the backlash grew to be too great.  Such was the price of using the unrestricted morph to push beyond her limits.  

Grace didn’t have that restriction, her morpher regulated things properly.  She blurred, coming up beside Bartran in a blink.  The man had already shifted, countering her with contemptuous ease.  Nicole didn’t let that go unanswered, she was already in motion, bringing her blades about.  Bartran began to move to counter but she phased through his strike, intent on repeating her prior victory. 

Bartran twisted, nimbly avoiding the shadowed strikes she attempted.  Grace tried to press in on him, but again he demonstrated the gulf of skill that living for millennia had put between them.  That didn’t mean Nicole was giving up, but it did cast a pall of despair upon their efforts.  The ships filling the night sky only furthered that feeling, not that she would let it get the better of her.  No, Nicole would fight, no matter how hopeless it seemed.

She lunged, putting every ounce of the surging power within forward.  Bartran moved before she did, but he was slower to her eye, or she was simply faster.  Rather than try and keep the source contained, Nicole pulled on it for every scrap of power it could give her.  The burn in her chest was an inferno, but it flowed without resistance.  Bartran still moved ahead of her actions, reading Nicole like an open book, but that didn’t mean that he could match that burst of superlative speed and power. 

Even with all his experience, Bartran wasn’t used to fighting people stronger or faster than he was.  Nicole was both in that brief flash and intended to make it count.  She didn’t phase, as that took time and would allow him to react given he clearly expected it.  Instead, she aimed to repeat the wound she had given him.  Sure enough, he moved to counter her with expert precision.  Her blade glanced off his oversized sword, ripping it from her hand.  The impact reverberated up her arm right down to the bone as Nicole launched into a tumbling spiral. 

Despite that, she angled her arms, and summoned the deflected blade back in hand.  Bartran didn’t have any time to realize what she had done, not until his arm was already dropping to the ground.  It was only one of four, but Nicole would take the win for what it was. 

That didn’t stop her from crashing to the ground, throwing sparks with each impact right up until she crashed into—and through—a fast food joint.  The free peanuts they offered rained down around her, as did raw potatoes.  She still laughed through the pain, and holy hell was there a lot of it.  The source was in full rebound now, eating at her very being just as it had after her last battle with the Generals.  Despite that, Nicole forced herself to sit up and take in her handiwork. 

It wasn’t much, but Bartran was clutching at the bleeding stump of his lower left arm.  His face was set in a soft frown, which wasn’t what she hoped for with that little move, but she also knew he wasn’t one for crying out in agony.

“Why do you persist in this meaningless struggle?” Bartran asked, standing back up to his full height.  He was bleeding, but powered through it.  “You have to know that even if you prevailed against me, the entire might of the Sylan Empire awaits.  You will be crushed completely, no matter what achievements pave the road to your end.” 

“You’ve gotten too used to winning,” Grace said, stepping forward with a slight limp.  Her suit was torn in places, but hadn’t broken.  “Take it from someone used to being the underdog.  We don’t give up just because the odds might be against us.  We will stand and fight, again and again, and we aren’t alone in that!  All of humanity will resist with everything we have.”

Nicole found herself laughing, even if it sent lancing agony through her whole body.  “It’s about the only thing we can actually agree upon as a species.” 

Bartran regarded them as they took up their stances once again.  He wasn’t even breathing hard while Nicole found her legs threatening to give out from underneath her.  His expression was stoic, but it was impossible to miss how calculating his gaze was.  Was he considering how tiresome ending humanity would be, or was he simply exasperated with their constant stubbornness?  Nicole had no way of knowing, but in the end?  It didn’t really matter.  They would fight, and eventually she would die.  No other outcome awaited her, not in the face of the war that was now on their doorstep. 

A deep sigh bellowed out as Bartran shook his head.  “Fools, one and all.” 

“Oh, they’re fools alright,” a feminine voice called out, bright and cheerful.  Nicole craned her neck towards the sound and had to bite back the groan at the sight of a bright yellow Ranger standing atop one of the wrecked buildings.  “But they’re my kind of fools, you know?” 

It took everything Nicole had to not groan at the interruption, and at the same time, she couldn’t help how the sight of her frienemy brought a measure of relief.  For whatever differences they had in goals, there was one common thread that would always unite them. 

“And who are you supposed to be?” Bartran asked. 

Anita laughed, leaning forward so her arm rested on her knee.  “Why, I’m the Yellow Ranger.  Surely you’ve noticed how I’ve been helping these hopeless fools out from time to time.”  Bartran just stared up at her and Anita gasped, gripping her chest.  “You truly don’t know who I am?  All the pity then!  I suppose I’ll just have to teach you the hard way.” 

“A lone Ranger of no import,” Bartran said, his deep voice weary.  “What do you hope to accomplish confronting us by yourself?” 

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t come alone then!”

Anita snapped her fingers and a rainbow assortment of colors leapt through the air, landing all around her.  Reds and blues, greens and oranges.  Yellow, black, pink, and many more all landed with mechanical precision.  But that wasn’t all.  Two rangers landed beside her that stood out from the mass of machines.

Beside Anita’s vibrant Yellow were a Pink Ranger and a White Ranger.  Xavier Sinclair had come personally, and brought a Ranger that Nicole never expected to see outside of old videos.  She wanted to scream in outrage about how the one genuine thing Sinclair had said to her was a blatant lie, but in the moment she could only feel relief, and a touch of hope. 

Maybe they actually had a chance to make it out alive.

The Sylan General scowled up at them, pointing his blade towards the newcomers.  “You’re supposed to be dead.” 

Pink chuckled, waving a finger at the Sylan.  “Reports of my demise were quite falsified thank you very much.  Surprise!” 

Honestly, Nicole wasn’t sure this was the time for breaking out everything they had, but with Bartran right there and ready to kill them all, when else would be appropriate?  Nicole forced herself upright, legs trembling underneath her.  Despite the burn in her very soul, Nicole prepared herself to meet the coming end with blade in hand. 

“Hello Bartran,” the man in White said, drawing his sword.  “I do believe I owe you for trying to kill my wife.”