Work Text:
After two years of anticipation, the release date for the final installment of director Lucien George’s groundbreaking fantasy space epic was finally announced. For months, fans had been speculating about how the cliffhanger from the last movie would be resolved and debating whether the series would end with the long-lost heir to the galactic empire assuming the throne or with him rejecting his birthright and returning to the quiet life on a no-name planet he’d been forced to leave behind to escape the assassins sent by his half-brother. The fervor in the City ramped up even higher when the Miller Theater organized a one-night-only marathon of the entire series the week before the premiere. Although turtles had seen all the movies multiple times, they couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see them again on the big screen. All four were buzzing with excitement as they left the lair and wound through the sewer tunnels to the manhole they knew opened into a quiet back street a few blocks from the theater.
“Hold up,” Raphael stopped short and pointed to the figure walking in erratic circles at the end of the block ahead of them. “Is that a foot soldier?”
“Looks like it,” Leonardo confirmed.
“Aww it looks kinda lonely out here by itself,” Michelangelo said.
“It’s a robot, what does it care if it’s alone?” Raphael asked. The foot soldier abruptly stopped its jerky movements and snapped its head in their direction, as if attracted by the sounds of their voices. A beat later, it was charging down the street toward them.
“I think you hurt its feelings, bro.”
The turtles didn’t even bother drawing their weapons as the foot ninja approached. No sooner had it reached them than they had it reduced to a pile of parts.
“Well, that was a great way to kill two seconds,” Raphael said, nudging the pile of debris with his foot.
“Wonder what it was doing here,” Donatello said as they resumed their walk to the theater, leaving the broken foot soldier behind.
“A better question is what is Shredder up to that he lost track of one of his foot soldiers,” Leonardo said soberly.
“I love how you always look on the bright side of things,” Raphael said. They all stopped abruptly hearing a strange rattling noise behind them and turned around warily. The street was no longer littered with robot parts - it was filled with a dozen robots. “Huh, they’ve never done that before.”
The turtles drew their weapons as the swarm of foot soldiers attacked.
***
April opened the bag of microwave popcorn and dumped it in the bowl sitting on the counter. She tossed the empty bag in the trash and picked up the glass of wine she’d poured earlier. Scooping up the popcorn bowl in her other hand, she carried both into the living room and set them down on the coffee table. The turtles had invited her to their space opera movie marathon, but she’d begged off. This was the first night in the last two weeks she wasn’t anchoring the late evening news and she was looking forward to a quiet evening at home catching up on the newest episodes of her murder mystery series. She settled herself on the couch with a blanket pulled over her and scrolled through the TV library until she found her show. Just as she was about to hit Play, she heard a strange sound somewhere in her apartment. She muted the TV and listened carefully, breathing as quietly as she could. A moment later she heard it again, a thumping sound that seemed to be coming from her bedroom.
Setting the remote down, she padded down the hall and peered cautiously through the doorway. Nothing was amiss. She waited and heard the sound again— it sounded like someone was on the fire escape. She inched forward and peered through the window. The fire escape was empty. Curious, she slid the pane up and stuck her head out. The only sounds to be heard were the expected noises of rush hour winding down.
April pulled her head back into her bedroom and was reaching up to close the window when a foot soldier dropped to the platform and lunged toward her. She screamed and scrambled back, then turned and fled to the living room. The foot soldier pounded down the hallway after her. She rounded the corner into the kitchen where she yanked open a cabinet and grabbed a small frying pan and a saucepan. Spinning, she swung both at the robot looming behind her. The foot soldier reeled backward, and she hit it several more times with the saucepan, driving it back into the living room. It stumbled and fell onto the coffee table, knocking the popcorn bowl and wineglass to the floor, and lay there for a moment before struggling to get back up again. April stepped in close and hit it with both of her improvised weapons hard enough that one of its arms detached. The robot collapsed and she struck its head one more time with the saucepan, knocking it from its shoulders.
Before she had a chance to catch her breath, another foot soldier appeared in the living room. It started towards her, but she was already bringing the saucepan up. She caught it in the chest, causing it to stagger back a step. Pivoting, she brought the frying pan down against its leg. It pitched sideways and she hit it again with the saucepan, sending it toppling into the end table. The lamp fell to the ground with a crash, but the foot soldier didn’t move. She slammed both pot and pan down on it anyway to be sure it would stay down. Its torso tumbled to the side, no longer attached to its legs.
April tensed, holding the cookware up in front of her, ready for more foot ninja to come down the hall. When none did, she allowed herself to relax and survey the carnage around her. The floor was covered with bits of metal, spilled popcorn, and broken glass. Sparks flickered feebly from the exposed wires at the end of the detached limbs piled around the coffee and end tables. The head she’d knocked loose had landed on the couch and was resting against the arm like a macabre throw pillow.
Tucking the saucepan under one arm, April dug her Turtlecom out of her pocket and flipped the lid open with her thumb. “Shredder’s apparently resorted to sending foot soldiers after me,” she grumbled when Leonardo answered. “Just had two of them bust in from the fire escape.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. ‘Course, now my living room is filled with robot parts.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “You broke them?”
“Smashed them with a pot and pan,” April confirmed. “These things really aren’t very durable, are they?”
“April, you need to get out of there right now!” he said urgently.
“Why what—” She looked up from the Turtlecom when she heard a strange rattling sound. The pieces of the broken foot soldiers were vibrating violently and had taken on a vibrant violet glow. “Ohmygosh!!” she gasped in horror. The individual parts were growing into brand new robots.
“Get up onto the roof!” she heard Leonardo say as if from a great distance. “We can meet you there in about ten minutes.”
The violet light winked out as soon as the foot soldiers finished reforming. As one, they climbed to their feet and turned toward her malevolently. What had been two before was now at least a half dozen.
“Make it five!” April jammed the Turtlecom in her pocket and dashed toward her bedroom, slamming the door shut to slow them down. It rattled on its hinges when the foot soldiers slammed into it but held firm. April ducked out the window and raced up the fire escape, skidding to a halt at finding another clump of foot soldiers milling about on the roof. She froze a moment in indecision, but quickly accepted that climbing back down the fire escape and hiding in her bedroom was out of the question. It would only be a matter of time before the foot soldiers already in her apartment broke down that door. She was trapped. All she could do was fend off this set until the turtles arrived.
April sidestepped away from the fire escape when the foot soldiers started shuffling toward her — the last thing she wanted was risk being caught between the two groups of robots. Right away she noticed this bunch moved much slower than the ones that had attacked her in her apartment. If such a thing were possible, she’d say they were distracted by something. She circled around the rooftop, scanning the tops of the of the nearby buildings for any sign of the turtles and swinging her pot and pan at any foot soldier that got too close. Though she tried not to damage them too much, she soon had a growing collection of robot parts scattered across the rooftop.
At last, she saw something. Not the living shadows hurrying across the skyline she was expecting, but a dark blot in the sky. The blot grew bigger as it drifted closer, until April was finally able to make out that it was a blimp. Her stomach knotted when she noticed the rope ladder hanging off the side of the glider. So they weren’t planning to land, then.
April hurried to the edge of the roof and braced herself to grab onto the ladder. Despite her best efforts, all the foot soldiers had been demolished and already she could hear the rattling sound that signaled the pieces were starting to regenerate. The blimp angled down toward her. She reached out toward the ladder. A foot soldier leapt up at her from the fire escape. April shrieked and smashed it with her saucepan. The blimp floated by, taking the rope ladder with it. The foot soldier toppled to the side, replaced almost instantly by another one. April backed away quickly as more clambered over the parapet wall. The foot soldier at the front of the pack caught the frying pan in both hands as it arched down toward it and pulled. April immediately let go and grasped the handle of the saucepan with both hands. Swinging it like a baseball bat, she knocked foot soldier’s head off. The broken pieces surrounding her had stopped vibrating. She whirled around, swinging the saucepan with wild abandon at any foot soldier in reach, no longer caring how much damage she inflicted on her attackers. The turtles could only watch helplessly from high above while Donatello slowly brought the blimp around to make another pass.
“Wait a minute,” Raphael said, pointing to a shape detaching itself from the shadows behind her. “Is that —“
Leonardo shouted April’s name in warning and waved his arms to try and get her attention. April looked up in the direction of his voice, but they were still too far away for her to make out what he was saying. The foot soldiers she had demolished in her blind panic were starting to vibrate. She looked from them to the approaching blimp, judging whether she would have enough time to grab the ladder before they finished reforming. An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her off balance.
“What are you doing?!” she gasped, tilting her head back to look up at Shredder.
“You’ll thank me later,” he replied.
“Doubtful,” she ground out through clenched teeth, planting her hands against his chest and trying to twist out of his grip. He pulled her in closer and stretched out his other hand to grasp the rope ladder once it came within reach. April yelped when their feet lifted off the ground and threw her arms around Shredder’s neck, clinging to him tightly as they skimmed over the top of the roof. Soon they were dangling over open air leaving her apartment building, and the crowd of foot soldiers atop it, behind.
“You were saying?”
“I take it back,” April moaned. Her stomach dropped as they rose higher. The saucepan sipped from her trembling hand. She watched it tumble to the street far below then screwed her eyes shut and tried not to think too hard about Shredder pressing her firmly against his side being the only thing keeping her from following behind her lost pot.
Raphael leaned over the edge of the glider and peered down at the two figures hanging from the end of the rope ladder. “Well, we got Shredder.”
“And he’s got April,” Leonardo said gravely. “Bring us down, Donatello. We can’t risk him dropping her.”
Donatello maneuvered the blimp around carefully so as not to jostle the ladder, heading for a cluster of condominium towers a few blocks over from April’s apartment building. Shredder noted when they began their descent and judged the likely spot the blimp would be brought to rest.
“Think we’re coming in for a landing,” he said as they neared the edge of the first tower.
“Huh?” April popped her eyes open and had just enough time to see they were gliding over the roof of another building before Shredder let go of her waist. The tiny scream that escaped her as she fell turned to a grunt when she landed hard on her back. Shredder dropped lightly to his feet beside her. “Thanks a lot,” she snarled, rolling up to sitting.
“You’re welcome,” he said with a mocking half-bow.
Three figures leapt from the blimp just before it passed over the far edge of the tower. They landed gracefully and immediately drew their weapons. “Okay, Shredder. Let’s end this, right here," Leonardo said as he, Raphael, and Michelangelo closed the distance between them.
“Really, this is the thanks I get for helping you whisk your dear friend out of danger?” Shredder said, gesturing toward April.
“It’s because of you she was even in danger in the first place!” Raphael shot back.
“I’m sitting right here, guys,” April said. Her phone buzzing in her pocket distracted her from whatever Shredder and the turtles said after that. The screen showed an incoming call from Burne Thompson. She stood up and walked a few paces away to the corner of the roof so she could have a bit of privacy while finding out what her boss wanted.
“There are reports of a bunch of robots causing a disturbance downtown,” he said as soon as she answered.
April glanced over the edge of the rooftop. A handful of terrified pedestrians were running away from a knot of foot soldiers lumbering down the street. “You don’t say.”
“I want you to get down there and cover it.”
"But Chief, it’s my night off. Shouldn’t Vernon be on it?”
“He can’t anchor the newscast and report from the field at the same time. Besides, I figured this’d be right up your ally since you do all the weird stories.”
“I d-what?!” She spluttered, but he had already hung up. Growling to herself in frustration, April opened the voice memo app and marched over to where Shredder and the turtles were gathered. She elbowed her way between Raphael and Leonardo, dimly aware that Donatello had joined the group and that all the turtles had put away their weapons. Thrusting her phone out at Shredder, she tapped the record button. “Alright you, start talking. What’s with all the foot soldiers flooding the city?”
Raphael blinked. “Uhh coming on a little strong there don’t you think, April?”
She rounded on him angrily. “I just got chased out of my apartment by a bunch of foot ninja, and now Burne Thompson is calling me in to cover a robot invasion on what is supposed to be my night off because, according to him, I do the “weird” stories! And he,” She looked sharply at Shredder as she thumbed the button to stop the voice recording and stuck her phone back in her pocket. “Is the reason for it all!”
“That’s just it,” Shredder said. “I didn’t do this.” At the disbelieving looks from April and the turtles he amended, “Er, not on purpose.”
“Hoo boy, have a feeling this is going to be an interesting story,” Raphael said.
“Not so much. We broke into Ragon Industries earlier this evening to borrow one of their prototypes and things went a bit sideways.”
“Think you might be underselling things there, bud.”
“Ragon Industries,” Leonardo said thoughtfully. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“I did a piece on them a few days ago,” April said. “They made a big announcement about donating their replicating laser prototype to a biomedical company . . . “ She stopped and scowled at Shredder. “That laser was going to be used for cancer research.”
“At least you know someone’s watching your newscasts,” he said.
“I’ll be sure to mention that to my boss next time he complains about our ratings. He’ll be thrilled to know we’ve at least cornered the Dimension X market.”
“Can we stay on topic please?” Leonardo said. “You tried to steal the laser. What happened?”
Shredder told them the story about how the laser misfired as it was being moved and struck one of the foot soldiers that had been brought along as an extra set of hands. “It began acting erratically, attacking at random. It was dealt with but, as you no doubt guessed, breaking it only generated more.”
“How did the laser misfire?” Donatello asked in alarm. “Something that sophisticated has to have a bunch of safety protocols to prevent accidental discharge.”
“I’ll give you two guesses.”
Raphael counted them off on his fingers. “Rocksteady. Bebop.”
Shredder nodded. “The two idiots dropped it.”
“Why do you keep those two dudes around?” Michelangelo grumbled. “They’re like, one big headache.”
“They have their uses,” Shredder said blandly.
“Seems the only thing ever they manage to do with any kind of reliability is abduct me,” April muttered.
“Like I said, they have their uses.” She shot Shredder an annoyed look which he pointedly ignored.
“‘Cept you seem to be a couple mutants short right now,” Michelangelo said. “Where are the two dummies?”
“Back in Dimension X.”
Raphael’s eyes widened in surprise. “Aww that’s nice, you let your minions get out before saving your own neck.”
“Wasn’t deliberate. They were just closer to where the portal formed. It collapsed before I could get through.”
“Ah, yep. There’s the jerk we all know and love.”
“If the laser was that badly damaged the energy spill-off must have rebounded though the portal and caused it to overload,” Donatello mused.
“I fought my way out,” Shredder continued, not interested in listening to Donatello’s speculation about how he came to be stranded on Earth. “And then went looking for you.” He gestured to the turtles, but April noticed he was looking directly at her.
“That’s how I ended up with foot soldiers in my apartment,” she said irritably. “They were following you.”
“Why would you want to find us?” Leonardo asked. “What is it you want?”
“Help getting back to Dimension X. I’m stuck here until Krang fixes the dimensional portal in the Technodrome and there’s no telling how long that’ll take. But I know you have a portal of your own.”
Raphael snorted. “Uh yeah, and if you think we’re going to bring you back to the lair so you can use it you’re more delusional than usual.”
“Also, you’re just going to leave us with your mob of out-of-control robots to deal with?” Michelangelo asked.
“Figured that’s more your area of expertise, anyway.” Shredder waved a hand dismissively. “Shame the blast scrambled its programming, that could have been useful. Would certainly save on robot parts.”
Donatello shook his head. “If you devoted a fraction of the time and resources you waste on building foot soldiers toward fixing the Technodrome you might actually — I’m going to stop talking now.”
“What do we get from helping you?” Leonardo asked, ignoring the outraged looks from Raphael and Michelangelo.
“The satisfaction of helping someone in need?” Shredder said, a little note of hopefulness in his voice. “Isn’t that your whole thing?” Leonardo and the other turtles just stared at him, unimpressed. “Fine,” he sighed. “The foot soldiers have a built-in failsafe that can be used to shut them off remotely. Without destroying them. You find a way to get me back to Dimension X, I’ll tell you how to trigger it.”
Leonardo turned to Donatello. “Can you make a temporary portal?”
“Can is relative. It’s more a matter of having the space and materials to work with.”
“The small studio has been offline for the past week or so,” April said. “We had a leak that damaged a bunch of equipment and Burne hasn’t gotten anyone in to do repairs yet. If I can get you in there, would that work?”
Donatello thought a moment. “It might. If I make a few modifications to a camera and tap into one of the satellites on the roof to direct the signal . . . ”
“Great, then let’s head over to Channel 6,” Leonardo said while Donatello continued rattling off ideas for constructing his improvised portal. “The sooner that portal is up and running, the sooner these foot soldiers are delt with.”
“Uh just out of curiosity,” April said nervously, eyeing the blimp sitting on top of one of the other condo towers. “How are we getting down from here?” A few minutes later she was clinging to Michelangelo’s back as he rappelled down the side of the building, face pressed against his shell and eyes tightly shut.
“Any chance you could loosen your grip a little, chica?” he asked, gently patting one of the arms she had hooked around his neck. “You’re kinda choking me.”
“Oh sorry.” She cracked her eyes open, but immediately closed them again when she glimpsed how much further they still had to go and relaxed her arms a fraction. “That better?”
“Yep,” he lied and hurried the rest of the way to the ground.
The turtles, Shredder, and April made their way on foot to the Channel 6 building. They had to alter their route a few times either to avoid clumps of roaming foot soldiers or so the turtles could assist citizens being menaced by the same. April took advantage of a few of those occasions to capture footage for possible use in the story Burne wanted her to do while Shredder stood by impatiently. At last, they reached Channel 6 and paused to regroup in one of the alleys across the street.
“So here’s something we didn’t consider,” Raphael said. “How’re we getting in there? Not like we can just walk through the front door.”
April leaned partway out of the alley, scanning the nearby storefronts. She spotted a hardware store farther down the block and beside it, a consignment shop. “Hm, I’ve got an idea.”
***
A little while later April was again leaning out of the alley, this time watching the turtles leaping across the rooftops toward the Channel 6 building.
“I feel ridiculous,” Shredder grumbled behind her.
April turned away from the alley mouth to find him tugging on the sleeves of his brown coveralls. She’d grabbed the largest pair she could find in the consignment shop, but they proved to be several sizes too small for him. His boots were tall enough it wasn’t that noticeable the pant legs were a little short, but his wrists extended several inches past the cuffs of the sleeves. He’d stashed his armor and cape behind a dumpster parked against the side wall, intending to come retrieve them once the portal in the Technodrome was functional again. April was still getting used to seeing his face uncovered.
“Considering what you generally wear day-to-day, that’s quite a statement.”
“At least that all fits me. And it’s mine.” He examined the patch above the breast pocket. “I’ve no idea who Jack is.”
“Aren’t ninjas supposed to be good at blending in? That’s gotta be a lot easier if you go in disguised as an ordinary repair man.” Her gaze lingered on the cuffs of the coveralls a moment. “Albeit a repairman who’s apparently had a late in life growth spurt.”
He glowered at her and gave his sleeve another frustrated yank. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Little bit.” April grinned and held out a bright red toolbox. “Now c’mon, “Jack.” Let’s go “fix” some broken cameras.”
He took the box from her and looked at her questioningly. “There’s nothing in this!”
“It’s just a prop.” She shrugged. “Helps pull the whole look together. Plus, I can expense it since the one in the news van I’ve been using needs to be replaced soon, anyway. Not sure yet how I’m going to explain the coveralls, though.”
“Hope you’re not expecting to get them back. They’re going straight into the incinerator when this is over.”
She snickered. “Sure you wouldn’t rather shred them?”
Shredder rolled his eyes. “Very amusing. Truly Miss O’Neil, you are wasting your talents merely reporting the news.” He pointed across the street with the toolbox. “After you.”
The main lobby of Channel 6 was empty, most of the station’s employees having already left for the day. They were crossing the mosaic tiled floor toward the bank of elevators in the back corner when one of them opened and a small crowd of people that had likely stayed at work late began spilling out. April stopped and swore under her breath when she saw Irma among them. Given how deserted the lobby was, there was no way they could get past her without being seen.
“Those are some words I never expected to hear you say,” Shredder teased.
She shot him a look then explained, “Irma’s still here for some reason. I thought she’d have gone home by now.”
“And that’s an issue why?”
“Uhm, you’ll see.” Irma had spotted them by that point and was making her way over. “Just . . . let me do the talking, okay?”
“Hey April,” Irma said. “What are you doing here? Thought you had the night off.” Her gaze slid over to Shredder, just then noticing him standing beside April. “Who’s this?”
April gestured to Shredder. “This is my friend Jake.”
“Jack,” he whispered.
“Jack,” she corrected herself quickly. “Who’s um visiting from out of town. I told him about the cameras that got damaged in the leak and he offered to take a look, see if he might be able to help fix them.”
Irma smiled warmly at Shredder. “That’s so nice that you would offer to do that. And after business hours, too.”
“Right.” April started to step around Irma. “Well, we’d better head up there . . .”
“Wait, do you have the key to get in?”
April grimaced and said reluctantly, “Um, no.”
“I can get you one of the spares,” Irma said brightly.
“Ah sure. That would be . . . Great.”
Irma flashed Shredder another grin then started towards the information desk at the back of the lobby. Shredder raised a questioning eyebrow at April’s pained expression as they followed a few steps behind. Irma ducked behind the desk a moment, then popped up with a single key on a long wooden keyring. She held it out to April absently, her attention already fixed on Shredder once again. “So, how long are you in town for?”
“If all goes as planned, I’ll be leaving within the hour,” he said smoothly.
“So soon? Aww that’s a shame.”
“No, it really isn’t,” April said under her breath, gently tugging on the keyring Irma still hadn’t let go of.
“Any plans to come back? Hopefully sometime soon.” Irma lowered her voice and leaned a little closer. “Maybe for a longer visit.”
“Uh,” Shredder blinked. “I er, - ummm. . .”
April ground her teeth, caught between being irritated at Irma for holding them up and amused by how flustered Shredder was by her friend’s unexpected interest. She imagined he didn’t encounter women attempting to flirt with him very often. If it was anyone else, she might have felt bad for him. “Irma, he’s taken. Been with his husband for . . . well, for at least as long as I’ve known him.”
“Oh.” Irma sagged in disappointment. Her grip on the keyring loosened enough that April was finally able to slip it out of her hand.
“Thanks.” April looked at Shredder and nodded toward the bank of elevators. “This way.” They stepped into the empty cab and April pressed the button for one of the upper floors. She leaned against the back wall as the elevator began to rise. Without a word, Shredder pulled out the emergency stop button and brought them to a sudden halt. April tensed when he shifted to look down at her, eyes burning with irritation. A muscle twitched in his jaw and she caught herself wondering if it always did that.
“For the record,” he said stiffly. “Krang and I are —“
“Look, I really don’t care one way or the other,” she interrupted, straightening and looking him directly in the eye. “Honestly makes no difference to me. But I know Irma. She will immediately latch onto any attractive guy she sees.” Shredder picked up on her phrasing, though April missed it. “Once she does, she needs a very good reason to let go. So . . .“ She spread her hands. Shredder considered her a moment longer, the outrage from just a minute ago already dissipating. At last, he pushed the stop button back in and they resumed their ascent.
“You are insufferable.”
"Aw be honest.” She winked at him. “You know you love me.” The elevator slowed to a stop at their floor. April stepped off as soon as the doors slid open, dropping the playful grin and suppressing a small shudder once her back was to Shredder. Irma was such a terrible influence.
Shredder lagged behind. If April had glanced over her shoulder, she might have noticed the faint flickers of contemplation and yearning playing across his features as he watched her walk briskly down the hall to her office. It wasn’t until the elevator doors started closing again that he moved to follow. By the time he caught up with her, she had unlatched one of the windows and was pushing it open. She took a step back to give the turtles space to climb through.
“You guys were taking so long we started to get worried you’d bailed,” Raphael said, glaring at Shredder.
“We ran into Irma downstairs.” April said, giving him a meaningful look.
“Seriously? Him?” Raphael blurted when he caught on to what she’d left unsaid.
The corner of Shredder’s mouth quirked up in a smug smile. “Jealous?”
“Of you? No, never.”
“All right you guys, settle down.” April dropped the keyring into Donatello’s hand. “Studio’s two floors below, door to the stairwell is by the restrooms. You can leave the key on my desk after you lock up. I’ll see that it gets back to Irma tomorrow.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?” Michelangelo asked.
April pulled her phone from her pocket and held it up. “Need to get some more footage of the robot invasion for Mr. Thompson before you hit the self-destruct button.” She put her phone away again and squeezed around Shredder still standing in the doorway, wiggling her fingers at him in farewell as she passed. “See ya.”
“Can we get this over with?” Raphael said after they heard the elevator doors close again. “I’ve about had my fill of playing nice with this guy for tonight.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” Shredder said.
The small studio lived up to its name. Slightly larger than a conference room, it contained a low table and two swivel chairs on a small platform in front of a simple backdrop. Most of the equipment – including the two cameras, freestanding lights, and a rolled up green screen curtain – had been pushed to the side wall, away from the large water stain on the floor. Donatello immediately dragged one of the cameras into the center of the room and examined it closely. The others clustered in the corner to give him space while he used the little tool set April had picked up at the hardware store earlier to remove the side panel and rework the internal wiring.
“You going to have that portal ready soon, Donatello?” Leonardo asked anxiously. “I don’t like the idea of April being out there on her own with all those foot soldiers about.” He was also concerned the fragile truce they’d formed with Shredder was disintegrating. He and Raphael were about at the limit of their tolerance for each other, and Leonardo feared the rising tension was about to boil over despite Michelangelo’s best efforts at playing conflict mediator. Sending Shredder on his way would be best for all.
“This is very delicate work. It can’t be rushed,” Donatello said, double checking the wire he’d just finished wrapping around a screw wasn’t going to come loose. “But yeah, I’m done.” He closed the side panel and directed Shredder to stand in front of the platform while the other turtles gathered around the camera. “Goes without saying this is a one-way trip. You go through this portal, you’re not sending anything back through to attack us.”
“Would I do that?” Shredder asked innocently. “Actually, never mind, don’t answer that. Of course I would.”
Donatello positioned the camera so it was pointed at the back wall and turned it on. A beam of vibrant blue light shot out of the lens and a strange breeze began blowing through the studio. The air took on an electric charge like building static electricity.
“Okay, Shredder,” Leonardo said seriously. “We’ve held up our end. Now, tell us how to disable the foot soldiers.”
A sinister smile spread across Shredder’s face. “Oh about that. I made it up. There’s no remote disable function. And even if there were, it likely wouldn’t work now with the programming scrambled. Have fun taking care of those foot soldiers!” With a self-satisfied laugh, he stepped into the beam of light and disappeared.
“So Shredder wasn’t wholly on the level,” Raphael said. “I want to say I’m surprised. But, I’m not.”
“Eh I didn’t fully hold up our end of the agreement either so we’re about even,” Donatello said, turning off the camera. The wind swirling around the room died out at once.
“Wait, you didn’t? Where’d you send him, then?”
“Oh I sent him back to Dimension X like he wanted. But he never said anything about getting back to the Technodrome.”
“So where is he now?” Leonardo asked.
“‘Bout three miles south of the volcano the Technodrome is stuck in.”
Raphael burst out laughing. “That ought to keep him busy for a bit.”
“But meanwhile we still got a bunch of foot soldiers to deal with,” Michelangelo pointed out.
“Been thinking about that too,” Donatello said. “Shredder, Bebop, and Rocksteady were the ones that created this mess. They really should be the ones to clean it up.” He told the other turtles his plan while he lifted the camera off its tripod.
Raphael grinned wickedly. “Donatello, you are an evil genius!”
***
Krang pressed a sequence of buttons on the large console in the Technodrome’s main control room. The giant portal/view screen remained stubbornly grey. He growled to himself and lifted the top of the console up. After making a few more adjustments to the circuitry inside, he closed the panel and pressed the sequence of buttons again. This time, the screen lit up a brilliant blue. Krang sighed in relief. The Technodrome might finally be back online after that freak power surge. He heard the great double doors behind him slide open and turned around in time to see Shredder stalk into the room.
“Shredder, you’re back! How did you . . . and what are you wearing?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Shredder grumbled. “I’ve had a long night.” The air in the control room began to crackle with a buildup of static electricity. There was a flash of blue light, and the chamber was suddenly filled with foot soldiers. Shredder set his jaw and sighed in resignation. “Wonderful.”
***
“Explain to me, again, what you did?” April said much later that night while the turtles helped her clean up her trashed apartment. Leonardo and Donatello were sweeping the popcorn, glass, and scrap metal into trash bags while Michelangelo and Raphael righted the furniture that had been knocked over. April was treating the stain on the rug from the spilled wine and was fairly certain it wouldn’t be permanent.
“When that foot soldier got hit with the replicating laser, it essentially started making clones of itself,” Donatello said. “We corralled one of them and I keyed it into my portal, which I then programmed to send anything with the same signature to Dimension X. And since all the foot soldiers we encountered tonight were essentially the same robot. . .”
“They’re back to being Shredder’s problem,” Leonardo concluded. “Little poetic justice.”
“Too bad you couldn’t have gotten him to replace my pot and pan, too,” April said. “Or help with cleaning up this mess.”
“Do you really want Shredder in your apartment?” Raphael asked skeptically.
She grimaced. “Ugh no. Good point.”
“Sorry your quiet night at home wasn’t so quiet,” Michelangelo said. “Or so much, y’know, at home.”
“Not really your fault,” April said, flopping down on the couch and glancing at the clock. “What d’you guys think, too late to order a pizza and watch a bunch of comic book movies?”
Michelangelo’s face lit up at the mention of pizza, but before he could reply Leonardo said, “That’s up to you. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
April’s eyes danced mischievously. “Have a suspicion I’m going to wake up with a sore throat and will need to tell Burne Thompson I’m taking the morning off.”