Delegation

Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers; they belong to their respective copyright owners and are used here without permission. No money is being made from this fic.
Authors Note: These events take place on Drakkon's Earth. Around two years have passed since his release from the Dark Dimension, and he has used that time to reclaim his planet, while preparing for the time when he will be forced to follow through on his side of the agreement.

Delegation

Flashback: A Different Earth, Months Ago

He had survived. It was a miracle and completely unbelievable given the ordeal he had been through. Yet as he lay on the ground, fighting the urge to pass out from the incredible pain he felt, Minion knew that he had beaten the odds one more time. And that meant that he would return and that when he did so... those Power Rangers would regret the day they had chosen to stand against him. But first, he would need to recover before he took his revenge on those who had wronged him: the Rangers, Lord Zedd and Rita Repulsa... even Mistress Vile would suffer for what they had done to him after he had had time to heal.

At that moment though he realised that his injuries were severe. Every part of him ached and yet it seemed he had no sense of touch. He was only vaguely aware that he was lying face down on a floor of some description.

"Well, well, well," a voice said behind him. And above him for that matter. Given that he was fighting the urge to curl up in a ball, he realised he had no idea where he was. He had assumed that he was safe just because he was still alive. Now the almost familiar voice alerted him that he was not alone and certainly not safe. "What do we have here? An intruder, in my palace. An interloper who didn't even try to hide himself from my sentries. You must be very brave or stupid to think you can just teleport in here and not pay the price. Well, let's take a look at our guest... pick him up!"

Minion felt his left arm being grabbed by two strong hands. Two more hands grabbed his other arms and another seized the back of his neck as he was hauled to his feet and turned around.

"Now this is a surprise," the speaker commented. "Billy Cranston. Now there's a face I never thought I would see again. Although somebody has done a fine job of trying to remove it."

It only now dawned on Minion that he could not see, a side effect of the magic that had almost torn him apart. He knew that his eyes were still there because he could feel them aching along with everything else.

"I thought you were dead," the voice continued. "I distinctly remember killing you. I took great pleasure in snapping your scrawny little neck. So how is it possible for you to be here, making a mess on my floor?"

Minion opened his mouth to respond but had difficulty speaking, something his host seemed to realise.

"Oh but you are in a bad way, aren't you? Somebody has done a number on you, my little friend. I haven't decided yet if I should punish them for robbing me of the chance, or reward them for such a fine effort." There was a moment of silence and then a whispered word. A few more seconds and a soft whistle of appreciation. "According to this spell, you should be dead right now. Your body has endured more than most people would want to survive." More silence as the speaker pondered what to do and then having made a decision, orders were issued. "Take him to the medical bay and instruct the medics to save his life. Make sure that he is restrained at all times and under full guard. If he escapes, you will answer to me!"

Minion could feel the slight tremor from the ones holding him up. It was somebody used to being obeyed.

"Yes, my lord."

"Contact me as soon as he is stable enough to talk."

"Of course," the same underling responded.

If he had heard the response, he ignored it. "I want to hear the details of how he survived... before deciding whether to kill him again."

Suddenly Minion was not so sure that his survival had been a good thing after all.

Flashback Ends.

---

The medical staff had done exactly as their leader had ordered: save Minion's life. It turned out that his recovery had not been swift. In fact, for a long time, it had been uncertain that he would survive. The curse had remained active for weeks before it had finally faded. Some would point out that at least if he was suffering in agony, he wasn't dead. But then a cursed life was no better in his mind than being dead. As each day passed and the doctors were forced to slice more and more of his diseased flesh from his broken body, he had mentally begged whatever deity looked down on poor misunderstood monsters to relieve his torment. At that point, he was happy to fade from existence if it meant relief from his torture.

In his last incarnation, his mistress had called him Minion, a name intended to remind him of his place in the grand scheme of things. She had revived him from the point of death and had allowed him to destroy the Rangers. He had beaten Tommy by threatening the White Ranger's innocent friends, but in a rematch, he had fallen foul of the Rangers' trickery and had been condemned to endure an unending period of pain and suffering until Lord Zedd saw fit to lift the curse. Of course, that feat was made nigh impossible since Lord Zedd was now in another reality.

He sighed, recognising the onset of a rest period. It was a mercy that ended the torment for a few minutes; there was no such thing as too much suffering as far as the originators of the curse had been concerned. However, a creature driven to utter madness could not suffer as thoroughly as one that remained capable of understanding that he was in pain. And so the curse allowed brief periods of rest just before the mind was briefly pushed into the realms of insanity for the victim to recover a little. That coupled with the pain relief the healers had given him had helped him survive the worst of his torment.

As he mentally floated in the void, he remembered the time he had spent in this place. When he had first arrived, he had felt himself in the presence of an incredibly powerful being. There had been something familiar about him, although at the time he had not realised his identity. It had not taken long for his new tormentor to grow tired of the delay in getting his answers. Minion had been subjected to a violent magical assault as his secrets were torn from his mind. And when it was over, his captor had muttered something about alternate realities and walked away.

Minion of course knew of alternate realities. In some dimensions the Power Rangers were servants of evil, in some they were the evil rulers and in some, they simply did not exist. The same was true about the villains he had come to know. It seemed that this reality was one where some of the Rangers were evil and the rest were... dead. Lost? He knew that Billy Cranston no longer existed here; his host had taken great pleasure in explaining how he had throttled and then drowned the Blue Ranger.

After that, Minion had been left to die, the novelty of his appearance having worn off. Without the attempts to slow its spread, the curse had continued to break down his body, taking him to the point of oblivion. But not beyond. It seemed that fate granted immortality and then decreed that he would spend almost every second of it in agony. The thoughts and memories flashed through his mind until once again it grew too much and he passed out.

---

He awoke with a start. He was in pain, but something had changed. This was a different type of torment. It took a moment to realise that something had struck his chest, causing him to hiss from the discomfort. And then there was a sharp pull as he felt himself being punched over and over again. The stumps that had once been his limbs were pulled and crushed, knife blades repeatedly scraped against his rotten flesh. The agony he had been feeling for weeks abated as his mind focussed on the new discomfort.

He was dragged off of the bed where his torso had been placed and dumped upon the floor, his arms and legs complaining at the impact. Arms and legs? It took time for his mind to catch up and realise that he did indeed have arms and legs. Although as he lay face down on the floor he was not certain it was a good thing.

He heard something, a word whispered from afar. "Minion..." the name drifted through his mind and he had to remind himself that it was indeed his name. "Minion." It was louder this time. He could feel something lifting him up and then pushing him backwards. In his weakened state he was hurled across the ground.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Welcome back, Minion. I thought I had seen the last of you."

He was thrown around again. It wasn't the wind that buffeted from all sides, but the solid and overwhelming force of a powerful aura. His instincts told him to run, to hide from the incredible force that could easily destroy him. He had nowhere to go though and after looking around desperately, he still could not find the source of the voice. As his eyes searched his surroundings, his attention was drawn to the large statues paying tribute to Rita Repulsa and her Green Ranger.

"Oh."

The pieces clicked into place, the memories he had inherited from the real Billy Cranston filling in the gaps for him. And he cursed as he realised where he was and whom the voice belonged to. Of all the alternate realities and evil Rangers to run into, why did it have to be this one?

"If I were in your place, I would have said: uh oh," came the cold response. Minion could make out there was some amusement in the tone. "After all the last time I met the Billy Cranston of your reality, he cost me a great deal of trouble."

A hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, lifting him effortlessly into the air before turning him around and shoving him into a wall. And Minion's eyes widened at the sight of Lord Drakkon.

"Let me see," Drakkon mused. "The last time I saw the Billy Cranston of your world, he detonated a device that almost destroyed my powers leading to a renewed uprising against me, and my being shoved into another dimension where I should have remained for eternity. Luckily, I found a -- benefactor -- willing to grant me a way back in return for a task on his behalf. As you can see since my return I have completely restored my control over this world, crushing all that remains of the opposition. But, I thought I would have to wait a little longer before I would have the opportunity to take my revenge on Billy."

"I'm not Billy," Minion gasped.

"And I'm not Tommy," Drakkon replied as he tilted his head to the side and grinned wickedly. "But you look like him; you have his memories... You remember what he did to me, don't you? The similarity is close enough that I could easily make myself believe that it is him I am killing. I already know that I'll enjoy it."

With a sudden movement, Drakkon tossed the clone across the room. He looked mildly surprised and pleased when Minion twisted in the air and landed on his feet. Then he was on the move as his fist flew towards Minion's face. Minion raised his arms to block the blow, only to grunt as Drakkon slammed his knee into Minion's gut.

"It seems you have improved your fighting ability since I last saw you," Drakkon observed. "Pathetic as always, but there is an improvement."

Minion growled, raising his hands and unleashing a ball of energy. He was surprised when Drakkon slapped it aside with ease. He tried again, calling on the training that Mistress Repugna had gifted him. This time he managed to knock the dictator back a little. He could feel the familiar sensation of Ranger powers as they surged through his body. He punched repeatedly, but Drakkon calmly blocked his blows.

"Restrain him," Drakkon ordered and for the first time, Minion realised that they had been joined by some of Drakkon's forces.

He recalled that Drakkon had defeated the Power Rangers of this reality and taken their Power Coins. Drakkon had then used the stolen coins along with a piece of equipment similar to the technology the Morphin Masters of Minion's reality had once used to create their Ranger teams, built by Finster Five to split the power between his Ranger Sentries. The Mastodon Power Coin had been used to create the Mastodon Sentries that made up the bulk of Drakkon's infantry, but the Tyrannosaurus Power Coin had been used to create the Tyranno Sentries, the elite bodyguards of Drakkon and his allies.

They wore red capes and carried bladed staffs. Their armour while more militaristic than the costumes worn by the original Power Rangers of their world, seemed designed to be lighter than those of the Mastodon Sentries, favouring speed and manoeuvrability over strength.

And it seemed that while Minion had been occupied by Drakkon, four of Drakkon's Tyranno Sentries had moved into position ready to take down Minion on Drakkon's command. When Drakkon gave the command, they moved in, attempting to pin Minion down with the blades of their staffs.

As he dodged and ducked the attempts to pin him down, Minion wished that he had access to a weapon of his own. In response, he felt a strange tinkling in his hands, and when he looked down he was surprised to find that they had transformed into extended blades. Now armed and able to fight back, Minion threw himself into battle, easily taking down the four Tyranno Sentries. They were good, but Minion had been trained by some of the greatest warriors in Rita and Zedd's army.

With the Tyranno Sentries down, Minion turned his attention to Drakkon. The blade on his left arm vanished and was replaced by a heavy ball. With a growl he attacked, only to find himself frozen in place. He looked up to see Drakkon with his hand raised and a faint green light illuminating his fingertips.

"You know the strangest thing about having bodyguards is everybody thinks that you need protecting," Drakkon commented. "I keep them around so I don't have to waste my time on insignificant matters." There was a pause as he regarded the downed warriors. "Congratulations, you've gained my interest."

"How?"

"How was I able to freeze you in place?" Drakkon offered.

Minion would have nodded, but his head was still frozen.

"Rita Repulsa decided that I should be trained in the arts of magic. Before her death, she taught me everything she could. And I have had plenty of opportunities to practice since that time. This little spell is something that helped me disable the Rangers of this world and turn them to my will. Poor fools never stood a chance."

What followed was a beating Minion would never forget. More than once it seemed that Drakkon was about to kill him, only to reign in his power at the last possible moment.

"I gave the surviving Rangers of this world a choice: serve me or die." He chuckled. "Most of them chose death as you would expect. But I didn't kill them, I broke them. I destroyed their spirits and fractured their psyches. I drove them to despair and when they were at their most vulnerable... I used the skills Rita taught me to rebuild them as loyal servants of Drakkon. Alas, I never had the opportunity to do that with Billy... until you came along."

"I'm not Billy!" Minion protested.

"But you're close enough. You'll do."

He lifted the clone into the air and drove an energised fist into his sternum. Minion was propelled across the room.

"You see Billy," Drakkon began as he paced toward the fallen Minion, "I have a problem: I was released from the Dark Dimension to perform a task for my new 'master'. A task that involved your Earth. But, I decided that if I was to undertake such a mission I needed to secure my army here first, which I have done. Unfortunately, my master's patience is almost at an end. And I cannot just abandon my world when it is so close to how I want it. I need to delegate that task to somebody else, somebody who has reason to return to his Earth and begin the work. And I chose you."

"Why should I, What's in it for me?"

Drakkon laughed as he recalled a similar conversation he had held just a few years before. He could crush Minion at any time; there was nothing that could stop him from doing so. Yet Minion for all his intelligence continued to bait him. It was something to be admired or pitied. Minion promised to be useful in ways that the original Billy could not. The question was whether that usefulness excused his insolence.

"Your bargaining posture is a little dubious," he remarked at last, recalling the words he had heard when he had been in Minion's position. "You believe you have a choice in the matter other than to obey or be destroyed."

"You need me," Minion pointed out. "Without me, you cannot complete your mission."

"WRONG!" Drakkon bellowed. "Without you, I would be forced to complete my task, diverting my attention from my kingdom. It's something I am reluctant to do. That doesn't mean I cannot or will not."

There was silence as a black ball of energy appeared above Minion. It would be so simple to end the miserable clone and find another patsy to take on his mission. But deep inside, Drakkon refused to accept that there was no way to turn the clone to his will. He admitted that having Billy Cranston, even a clone of Billy Cranston, at his beck and call was enough of a reason to make a final attempt to secure the clone's cooperation.

"Perhaps you should see the benefits of working for me."

Drakkon started to chant and as he did so, Minion felt something change. The pain he had been enduring since his defeat by the Power Rangers was gone.

"You are released from your curse. No longer will the breach of honour torture you." There was another break, another moment where he seemed to be elsewhere. Then a sword appeared in front of Minion, floating in the air. "This is the Dark Sword, a powerful weapon allowing you control over the Morphin Grid. As this was gifted to me to lead the attack on your Earth, so I gift it to you."

It wasn't that great a gift in Drakkon's opinion. He had tried to use it many times since his return home and had found that while an adequate blade, its other abilities were extremely limited.

"And?" Minion pushed.

"And nothing. We are having this discussion only because I never had the opportunity to offer servitude to Billy. Make no mistake, you will serve me whether it is willingly or through other means. I do not need to reward those who serve me, I just need to give you commands for you to follow, and punishments if you don't obey! Your attitude, while amusing for a while, is no longer amusing to me. And continued disobedience will not be allowed."

"I am nobody's property!" Minion snarled. "I just finished serving Lord Zedd and Rita's mother. I am not going to be a slave again."

Drakkon shook his head sadly. "Oh Billy," he mocked as he pulled out a remote control, "You have no idea."

He pushed a button and Minion screamed in agony.

"I had Finster Five take a look at that clay body of yours," Drakkon said as he watched Minion curl up in a ball. "He was decidedly unimpressed that some amateur had tried to create a monster using his medium. But he is a loyal servant and he followed my request to rebuild your broken body. And while he did so, he chose to improve upon the design. Improvements you would have discovered had you not been so busy resisting me. However, the most important changes he made, were the implants he placed throughout your body. Now I do not need to destroy you, Minion. At the push of a button, you will be pulling yourself apart to end the agony I can subject you to. Do you understand?"

The pain returned to full force as he used the power he had gathered over the ages to rip the insolent creature apart. Minion screamed, his cries and whimpers sufficient for Drakkon to delay his destruction for a short time as he pondered the similarities between Minion's predicament and the one Drakkon had found himself in a few years earlier. Except whereas Drakkon had been able to beg for time to secure his own world before venturing forth to conquer another, Minion would be offered no such leniency.

"Please, spare me?" Minion begged when Drakkon removed the pain for a moment.

And in that moment, Drakkon knew he had won. He had been planning to allow Minion one last opportunity before he was obliterated. Although sceptical that this would be the end of the clone's resistance, the simple act of begging was enough for Drakkon to offer some indulgence.

"You are not worth the effort it would take to destroy you, Minion. But at this moment you are useful, so I will spare your life. Now, take up the sword I have granted you, return to the Earth and destroy the Power Rangers."

"Zedd and Rita would never allow me to attack the Earth without their consent," Minion protested.

"And Zedd is hardly likely to welcome back a two-time failure," Drakkon concluded. "Fortunately there is a solution: a small spell to fool Zedd, Rita and those that remember Minion into believing that you are not the warrior that failed them previously. To them you will be a different servant of evil summoned forth to conquer the planet on their behalf."

It was a powerful piece of magic, a secret locked inside Minion's soul that would prevent even those that realised that he was the original Minion from remembering the fact for more than a few seconds. And all the plan required was for Rita and Zedd to be fooled long enough to give their consent. After that, Minion was free to do act.

"And of course you are not the Minion they knew. Not after everything you have been through, nobody could go through everything I put you through and emerge the same."

He chuckled at how long he made Minion suffer. By his reckoning it had been weeks. For Minion it had been much longer, constantly brought to the brink of destruction, only to survive and heal. Finster Five could claim all the credit for perfecting the Super Putty formula, allowing a monster to recover from near annihilation. Minion was such a monster having been subjected to abuse the poor clone couldn't remember.

And after all he had been through, the Minion of old was gone, leaving behind a new servant Drakkon christened as the Harbinger of Evil; a spell Drakkon had discovered would keep Rita and Zedd from recognising their own creation. It was a spell Rita Repulsa had created. A simple enchantment to twist the perception and Rita and Zedd would easily succumb. But his chuckles subsided as he acknowledged that their vulnerability was proof that their Earth was indeed a cursed planet for evil-doers. The planet eroded away the darkness and left the greatest villains as caricatures of their former selves. Luckily there was a way to fix such problems, and curing Rita and Zedd was a key part of Harbinger's mission.

"You have your mission, you have the tools to complete your task. Depart, and do not fail me."

Harbinger nodded. Now was not the time for defiance, but he promised himself that he would find a way to make Drakkon pay. In the meantime, at least the task he had been given aligned with his own goals. So he would carry on with his mission and destroy the Power Rangers, but he would do so for his reasons. And then when the time came he would find a way to turn the tables on Drakkon. Because there was no way that he would ever allow Tommy Oliver or his evil twin to get the better of the Harbinger of Darkness.

End of Part