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The battlefield is still. The dust finally settling and as it clears we see the pink ranger. She is on her knees, the broken form of the silver ranger, her wife, in her arms. Her helmet is off, blood trickling down her face. The wet, weak sounds of the silver ranger can be heard as the pink ranger glances at the locket and the picture of them and their daughter.Heavy footsteps fall behind her as the sharp dressed man who would soon come to be known as Dr. Contemplation approached. The pink rangers expression shifted from grief to to that of steeled resolve. Coughing, the pink ranger, Karen, spoke. “I want to make a deal.”