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"Penny for your thoughts?"
They all said the strangest things sometimes. Karone, staring out the window of the small shuttle they shared, watched Zhane's reflection smile at her. She tried to smile back, but instead asked, "What's a penny?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "It's just something Cassie says sometimes. It means, do you want to talk?"
"About?"
"Whatever's on your mind." He prodded gently, "You've been quiet since we got Andros's message."
That wasn't quite it, but being as she wasn't prepared to get into everything that it was, Karone accepted this plausible explanation.
"He's never asked me for anything before." In fact, he was usually discouraging her from this sort of thing.
"Are you afraid?"
"What, of Andros?" Despite herself, Karone laughed, and turned in her seat at last to look at him properly. "Are you?"
"He wishes." Zhane was smiling, but his tone was serious. "You know what I mean."
"I've been here a thousand times before." This mission was as straightforward as they came—pop down to Onyx disguised as Astronema, retrieve Kendrix Morgan's Quasar Saber by outbidding the other attendees of this perfectly legitimate black market auction, and make a quick exit back to the shuttle.
"So it's not the mission, then," Zhane said, reminding her that beneath his exterior charm lay an unsettlingly perceptive interior. "It's what we were doing beforehand."
"You told me not to get my hopes up," Karone said. "I know. I didn't."
A month ago, her brother had disappeared. He'd left a holo message with sparse details that didn't include what he was doing, where he was going, or why he was doing it. Frankly, Karone thought the content left something to be desired in terms of both explanation and apology, but according to Zhane this was "progress" in terms of his communications skills and Andros's other teammates had responded with resigned agreement.
She'd taken advantage of his absence to take a trip of her own. Guilt got the better of her in the end, so she'd finally messaged him in return telling him only where she was going (Eltar) and who was accompanying her (Zhane). She was sure he was annoyed about it, because something about her making independent decisions always seemed to irritate him, but when it turned out that the Quasar Saber was on Onyx, he'd asked her and Zhane to retrieve it for the Rangers on Terra Venture.
Karone was sure if he knew how she planned to retrieve it, he'd blow a gasket. She would have to tell him later.
"I'm sorry they didn't have better records," Zhane said.
"It was a long shot." Karone tried to shrug. "We knew that."
Not all of the refugees from KO-35 had sought shelter on Centaur B. The rest had scattered in small groups across the universe. Some had first gone to Eltar, but had been forced to evacuate again when Dark Specter had abducted Zordon and invaded the planet. Most of their records had been destroyed in the war, and the surviving ones had no trace of the information she was after.
Her parents remained unaccounted for. Andros had lost track of them the day of the invasion, and they'd never contacted him the way they'd agreed upon beforehand. (That didn't necessarily mean anything, he was quick to insist. Communications satellites had been destroyed, and he'd been lost in grief about Zhane.)
If Andros's memory could be trusted, they had been loving and attentive parents to both of their children and there was no reason they shouldn't have made contact with Andros if they'd had the ability to do so. Karone thought it was fairly obvious, but she wasn't looking for proof of life.
"We can try again," Zhane said. "After we get the saber."
"I think I'd like that."
"You miss travelling."
"Yeah," she said, not surprised that he'd noticed. She'd been unable to settle down on Earth. Zhane had gone with her when she'd returned to KO-35, and Andros was struggling to split his time between all of the people he loved. If she'd been happier on KO-35 than on Earth, she might've felt less guilt about it. She wasn't.
"It's not even being in space," she said finally. "It was just… hard to be alone on Earth. KO-35 is better in some ways, but... "
"Has anyone said anything to you?"
"No," she said. "It's not the people."
The people were kind to her, far kinder than she had any right to expect. It was just… her. She didn't quite belong.
"Well," she admitted. "It might be Andros."
It wasn't the sort of thing, probably, that she should admit to his best friend, but Zhane was, oddly, the one person who she felt might listen without judgment. He loved Andros completely, and had no illusions about who he was. She was envious, honestly.
"He just doesn't really..." She frowned. "He acts like all of the terrible things that I did to him, to all of you... it's like he thinks that I didn't really do those things."
She'd been kidnapped, brainwashed. Andros's version of events was neat and tidy, and absolved her of all responsibility for the things that she'd done.
"He says there's nothing to forgive," she went on. "But… I think there's something."
How could he possibly forgive her what she'd done until he accepted that she, herself, had done it?
"For what it's worth," Zhane said. "I forgive you."
She shook her head.
"Look, I don't entirely disagree with Andros," he said. "What you did after the asteroid, Dark Specter was controlling you. None of that was your fault. But for whatever you did to me before that… I forgive you for that. Because when you knew the truth, you made a different choice."
"You shouldn't."
"Why not? I can forgive whoever I want."
"I'm not sure that's how it works."
"That's exactly how it works." Zhane gave her a sideways smile. "I've been forgiving Andros all my life."
"I guess that does make you an expert."
"You'll learn," he assured her. "Like, for example, we will eventually forgive him for running off to Terra Venture without bothering to invite us."
"I don't mind," Karone confessed. She was annoyed at the circumstances of his departure, yes, but it was nice not to have him hovering over her and all of the assorted pressures that his presence brought. "And… we left too."
"That's different," Zhane said. "We told him where we were going."
"But not why," she said. "You didn't want to."
"I didn't say that," he said. "I said it was up to you."
"But you thought it was a bad idea, so I didn't."
"Yeah," he said. "I did. Why didn't you tell him?"
"Because he might've wanted to come."
"He definitely would've wanted to come." Zhane hesitated. "I guess that's why I didn't tell him, either. I didn't think it was a good idea."
"Why didn't you think it was a good idea?"
"Just…" Zhane shifted in his seat. "It would be so easy for him to get consumed by the search again."
Karone nodded. It was a good answer, and she wasn't arguing. She hadn't wanted Andros to come either, after all.
The truth was, it was just… exhausting, how her brother loved her. His expectations, his eternal hope that she would remember their childhood, and his unspoken but so obvious disappointment when she didn't…
Zhane knew all this, because she'd told him.
What Zhane didn't know, because she hadn't told him, was why she was searching for their parents.
He thought it was for Andros and herself. He was only half right. It was for herself. When Andros found out the truth, it would destroy him.
Dark Specter had ordered her to send troops to long-abandoned KO-35 during the universal invasion. It had been a test, and brainwashed as she was, she'd reveled in it. She'd sent the quantrons and watched happily as they destroyed her homeworld, the only place in the universe that had a stronger connection to Karone than to Astronema.
It was only now, on the other side of things, that she thought about that while remembering the days before the first invasion of KO-35 all those years ago. Dark Specter hadn't let her lead the charge then. She'd been too young, but he'd sent her to KO-35 with Ecliptor and the rest, and he'd given her a small fleet of quantrons and directions to fire upon the evacuating ships. She thought she understood why now.
"Hey," Zhane said, correctly reading her silence as distress but misreading the cause. "Don't worry about it. Andros will get over it."
Karone smiled weakly. She rather doubted it.
"I'm not worried about that." That much she could say truthfully. "I'm sorry. There's a lot on my mind."
"Yeah." Zhane flexed his hands away from himself. "I hoped I'd never need to do this again."
"But you kept your morpher," Karone said. "When the others sealed theirs away."
"Just in case."
"When Andros sent word, what happened to Kendrix…" She hesitated, then asked carefully, "Did that bring back memories?"
"Of dying?"
She didn't tell him that he didn't die. He hated when Andros did that.
"Yeah."
"Yeah," he said. "A little. You?"
She shook her head. "I don't really remember much."
Maybe she hadn't been dead long enough.
"I don't remember pain," Zhane said. "It must've hurt, but all I really remember is falling, and Andros yelling. I do remember the cold."
"I'm sorry."
He shrugged.
"All I remember is…" She closed her eyes, trying to recall the images. Everything that had happened after the asteroid was a confusing jumble of memories laid upon memories, and it was worse near the end as Dark Specter's hold on her solidified. "I think I remember Andros being there. I know I was trying to kill him."
"I didn't want him to go," Zhane said. "I told him he had to accept that you were gone."
"You were right."
"Words I love to hear."
"Obviously."
"You're here now, though," Zhane said. "So I was wrong."
"I wish…"
"I know," he said, and reached over to squeeze her hand.
Life wasn't a scale to be balanced. She would retrieve the fallen Pink Ranger's weapon, and she would return the Quasar Saber to Kendrix's teammates. It would be the right thing to do—and it would change nothing about the past.
"You want me to go down there with you?" Zhane offered. "I'm sure I could cobble together one of Andros's terrible disguises."
Karone snorted. She couldn't help herself.
"Thank you, but it would be better if I went alone. Be ready to run, though. I think we'll have to make a quick getaway."
"My specialty," he said. "Kiss for good luck?"
She tilted her head. "Is this another silly thing they say on Earth?"
"Yes," he said. "Would you like one?"
Karone watched him smile, full of faith in her, and allowed herself to be swayed by it, just for a moment. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, and then she rose from her seat. There was good that she needed to be doing.