For ten long years the humans of New Earth have been under the iron grip of Galatec, the intergalactic mega corporation. They have been forced to toil in mines, work in factories, and some precious few privileged have been recruited into the office work for long hours with no benefits and far too little pay. Bodies and minds are broken from overwork, and the worst crime of all is that most people don't even realize it. Galatec is a mind bogglingly vast and complicated machine, with more methods than even the Board of Directors know about. Many of those methods have been utilized here on New Earth, brainwashing the population into acceptance and obedience. Food and water have chemical additives, the lights themselves shine with a wavelength that dulls independence and resistance, and propaganda permeates the media, the streets, and your homes. A very small percentage of people are, for reasons unknown, immune to this brainwashing, and have taken the fight to Galatec. However they are completely overwhelmed, for not only does their enemy possess far greater numbers and firepower, they have to fight against the citizens they attempt to liberate, who brand them terrorists. Their efforts are, sadly, doomed to failure. In an act of desperation, the largest force of resistance fighters, the Alpha Division, have chosen to throw all their men into one last attack on the Red Rock Mining Facility, the largest concentration of human slave labor on New Earth. However, the Regional Manager of New Earth Space, Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento, has picked up their communications. She knows they plan to hit with everything they've got. Truly, their efforts are doomed to failure, but not all is lost. Deep within the intricate mines of Red Rock is a man, a wise alien creature, who casts off with the tyrannical ways of Galatec, and his assistant. Together they conspire to bring new hope to the world, a new team of fighters using technology stolen from Galatec itself. Legends and historical tapes tell of many teams that have battled with evil before, defending humanity and many peaceful alien worlds. Legends of the mighty Power Rangers. It is today, on May 35, 2250, that a new team shall rise to battle evil, but they will have an uphill fight. Their victories shall be met with just as many loses, but if they cannot persevere, then New Earth is doomed. Today is the uprising! Today we fight back! Today is the birth of...
Samara finds herself inside the secret lair, an old abandoned mining post. It had been scheduled for decommission (read: blown up) months ago, but a little misfiling of the paperwork preserved it, and now everyone that matters in Galatec believes it to be gone. Well, everyone that shouldn't know. The lights inside had been rewired by her partner, so now while they were attached to the power grid, they only projected neutral light, rather than that Galatec brainwashing wavelength. Here she was safe, and here the plan was to begin. Samara's partner, mentor really, sat on a work table, wearing dark tinted glasses as he fiddled with the wiring of a small device, some kind of wristband with a red crystal. She had done some work on them herself, so she knew exactly what it was: the red Photon Morpher. The last of the six morphers that they were fixing up, and just on time, too. If everything went according to plan, the five special ones were to be here today, at Red Rock Mining Facility. Then she and her partner could activate the Refraction Displacement System and teleport them to base. Recruit them. And together they could take the fight to Galatec.
Samara and her partner had a heck of a time finding people who would be... Open to the idea of fighting against such a behemoth. It took months of searching, of stalking and hacking computer systems, but they found them. The five people that would become, that had to become her partners. Michael Sonnen. Jonah Fallen. Oliver Johnson. Tommy Reese. And Clementine Mayweather. It would only be a matter of time before they could all be gathered. Assuming things went according to plan.
"I've finished it!" called out Samara's partner, pulling off the tinted glasses and setting down his wiring tools. "The red photon morpher has been restored, Samara! Just in time."
Fools. Pitiful, idiotic, suicidal fools. They called themselves Alpha Division, and they planned to attack Red Rock Mining Facility in a desperate attempt to free the slaves here. As if any of the slaves wanted to be free. Still, the largest resistance force, 300 men and women, presented an opportunity. Wiping them out would be a fantastic show of strength to deter any other stupid humans that were immune to reconditioning, as well as ridding Galatec New Earth Division of their strongest foe. The idiots didn't even use an encrypted transmission when passing the orders to their squads.
In preparation for this great victory, Regional Manager Ruth and General Adelram Drax made the decision to personally oversee the security at Red Rock. Their presence would prove to be... Influential. Together they were positioned in the command room of Red Rock, where the site foreman oversaw all operations. Foreman Jo'ones, a reptilian alien six feet tall with fire red scales, approached the two as his assistants worked at their computer terminals.
"Sirs, the facility is operating at nominal efficiency. Profit margins are up .2% and production of oranium has maintained steady numbers. I still don't understand why you chose to visit my facility. Is production displeasing in some way?"
Fate conspired to bring these two unknowns together. Sure, fate. Let's call it that. In no way was there a transfer request put in by someone behind the scenes. So much paperwork was filed, who even knows what purpose it all serves? In any situation, Clementine was brought to Red Rock by their Accounting Director. The same Accounting Director that recently requested the bodyguarding services of one Jonah Fallen.
The three sat, or stood, in a small meeting room barely large enough to hold the table they were supposed to discuss matters at. Two security cameras were positioned in opposite corners of the room, barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for. Accounting Director Shplorn, an alien resembling a human save for the bright florescent green hair, pulled up some documents on the holo-screen for Clementine's benefit.
"-And here are the profit and loss statements for the previous fiscal quarter. Now it's your job to comb over all the details and look for any funny business. We suspect someone may be laundering funds. Now be sure to triple check the numbers and-OH DEAR LORD WHAT IS THAT?! KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT!" Shplorn freaked out, unjustly so, at the sight of a common spider crawling across the table. Nevertheless, she gave the orders to her bodyguard. Jonah had learned in the few hours he was put in her employ that she was a rather... Jumpy creature. Overly cautious, one might say. Terrified of her own shadow was more like it.
Deep within level thirteen of the mines, two young men found themselves toiling together. They had been paired up for only the last three hours. Oliver had only been assigned to work in Red Rock for three days. Three days of having been beaten and chained, under the constant watch of at least three githkin. They knew of his immunity to reconditioning, so it was the only way. His partner didn't have it much better, but for completely different reasons. Tommy was scrawny, malnourished, but always optimistic about their situation. Due to the differences in their physiques, Tommy had been assigned to crawl into tight spaces and survey, while Oliver was assigned the heavy duty work. If Oliver didn't comply, well, then the githkin would get unpleasant.
The two worked far away from any other teams, with a hover-cart filling up with some kind of red glowing ore. Tommy had seen this ore before, but didn't know what it was. For Oliver, this was a first time experience. What was this substance they were forced to unearth? Galatec wouldn't tell, but maybe time would...
"Faster!" cried one of the githkin, cracking a metal whip in Oliver's direction.
Michael entered Red Rock for the first time. For reasons he didn't know, he had been transferred here from his previous mining job back in Dumas. The trip took hours, and was boring as all hell, but now he was here, going through processing and being given the familiar tools of the trade. Pick axe, rope, bottle of water, these were all routine for him. What he didn't expect, couldn't have expected, was the three blasting sticks he was given. The requisitions officer provided them to him like they were any other piece of equipment, like nothing was out of the ordinary at all. That's when Michael noticed something on the paperwork. The document detailed him as a class 2 miner, with all the access and privilege that came with the title. Back home he never progressed beyond a class 5 miner. What was with the special treatment?
One of the perks of being class 2 was working alone, unsupervised. He was given a map and told to find his way to level 9 of mine shaft 27, where it would be his job to search for new ore veins and blast open new tunnels in weak structure. Something was definitely wrong, he never received that kind of training. This day was getting bizarre...
The communications had been clear and Ruthalia had acted without hesitation at the news. Her eyes scanned over the setting of the Insignificance’s “command” room and sniffed sharply. She ran a slender, manicured finger along the surface of a table in the corner of the room and inspected the dust that now coated her fingertip. ”No, no, no. This won’t do…” She muttered to herself and continued pacing around the room. Her hands slapping together as she dispersed the dust from her fingertip.
Her five inch, red, reptilian skin heels clicked and clacked along the floor as she walked, inspecting every particle of the room in the utmost as if it were simultaneously the most and least interesting place she had ever been. She was dressed in a tailored, light grey dress with darker grey accents that stretched in an oval down each side. Her curled, red hair bounced with every step she took and her dark eyes lingered on the computer screens as she analysed their contents. A furrow appeared on her brow as she spotted a screen with the same numbers that had been reported on the production of oranium just last week. That is when the Insignificance began to speak to her.
"Sirs, the facility is operating at nominal efficiency. Profit margins are up .2% and production of oranium has maintained steady numbers. I still don't understand why you chose to visit my facility. Is production displeasing in some way?"
Her nostrils flared and she clicked her tongue in the lizard’s direction without looking at it. ”Ma’am not Sir, maggot.” She then turned in one fluid motion and slapped the Insignificance across the face before placing the same hand on Drax’s plated arm as gently as a falling leaf lands upon water’s surface. ”Let the maggot know that their numbers are insufficient to Galatec’s needs. Also make it aware that we expect more than nominal performance and we certainly expect higher than 0.2% in profit margins.”
She began to step away from Drax and the Foreman before she leaned back and patted Drax on the arm once more. ”Oh and that steady numbers in production lead to a rising number in our destruction of Foreman workers. Thank you, Drax.”
Ruthalia then turned on her heel and grabbed a remote from the surface of the Foreman’s desk and strode towards the large electronic screen that overlooked the central mine shaft. She began to zoom in on random workers and groups of githkins, surveying the happenings of the areas that she had access to view. Without turning to look at Drax or the Foreman, Ruthalia smiled to herself and began to speak to the Foreman for the first time since she had arrived. ”And to answer your final question. Your face displeases me, maggot. I think it might make me a nice handbag to match my shoes, wouldn’t you say?” She clicked her heels together and barked a loud laugh as she continued surveying the monitor before her.
It seemed that every other minute Samara was wiping a buildup of sweat away, scattering the droplets on the surface of her hand to the dirt beneath her feet. Her hands pressed down hard atop the cylinder motion tracker, one of many, that made their way into the inner chamber where both she and her boss toiled away, day after day, preparing for a revolution. After a moment of struggle, the device locked itself into the rock below it, and soon a green LED light began to blink at its base to confirm its activeness. Sighing with relief that the ordeal of installing these trackers looked to be concluded, Samara dipped her hand into one of the lower pockets of her cargo pants. Out from it had come a small pad that allowed for her to examine the status of each individual tracker she had placed. Beside each of them were status colors that indicated their conditions—power, shell integrity, and if they had picked up something heavy enough to be reported in to her mini-mainframe.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” she silently praised her efforts. As Samara had hoped, all individual motion trackers were reading the same green light that indicated their effectiveness. As long as she was in front of her computer or examining this, she’d be able to have a set of metaphorical eyes watching the standard way of entering the abandoned facility. Just as she stood up, Samara’s head cocked in the direction of her partner down the tunnel just behind her. Stowing the pad away in the very same lower pocket for the time being, she hustled down the tunnel with a pleased smile until she arrived. There, right where she had left him prior, was the man who was making everything possible with her.
“You got it to work? Great!” Samara gave him a toothy grin as she joined beside him, examining the completed morpher. Before she had left him to help secure the perimeter, she left her phone behind to play him a handful of classic songs from the past to help him focus and keep his mood positive. Taking it in hand and pausing it in the middle of one of her personal favorites, her eyes wandered back to the final morpher that was completed once she pocketed her phone. “So this is finally happening,” she realized aloud. It seemed like just yesterday they were discussing this act of rebellion, when it was actually months. To finally be in a position to take the fight to Galatec rather than cower was exhilarating, but still Samara had doubts of her own, doubts she was very much vocal about. The smile that graced her weary appearance faltered. “Are we really sure about this bunch? I know we’re desperate, but…”
Her voice and train of thoughts had trailed away. Samara was willing to put her faith in these individuals just as her partner was. However, there was a part of her that still wanted to reconsider a few of them. There was no position for them to do that anymore, she was greatly aware of that. The wheels were already in motion and to stop now would not do New Earth any good. It had to be this group, but even so she would hate it if anything happened to those that weren’t prepared for what was expected of them. They didn’t ask for this—heck, would they really be given a choice once they were brought here?
“Forget it,” shaking her head, Samara dug back into one of her lower pockets and retrieved the small pad from before. Brushing away the strands that clung to her matted forehead, she opened it up again before the Mentor and allowed him to see as she had before. Every reading was green. “Anyway, they work. If the Displacement System isn’t as slick as we hope it is, we’ll have a window to be ready to move if they manage to track it here—which they won’t.” At least not for some time, and Samara was confident about that. They had spent far too long planning for nearly every scenario to not create contingency plans. Security cameras would have been better, but beggars could not be choosers.
From office work to securing an abandoned mine for use, she never would have thought she would ended up covered in dirt and sweating more than she thought possible. Peering downward and noticing the lace of her left boot was coming loose, she had knelt down to tie it back, sighing hard as she did so. The humidity of this mine was always a bother. When the choice came between moving in the air scrubbers before the fans, the answer had been obvious at the time. But now she wasn’t so sure. Her black top was as slick as her forehead, making her heavy duty work clothes feel like a sponge.
“Remind me to finally get a fan down here once we gather them. This is ridiculous, and with my computer it’s only going to get warmer.” Standing up again, Samara’s hands settled on her hips. Despite how nervous she was, and how unbearably hot it was, she could not deny the excitement she felt at finally taking action. It was time to see if all that sneaking around and plotting was worth it after all.
"Foreman Jo'ones." The towering artificially intelligent warrior took a long step forward, towering over the six foot tall reptilian.
"0.2% profit margins are insufficient. Galatec requires additional resources in order to fund our conquests. Failure to do so may result in you or one of your compatriot's faces being recycled into a fashion accessory for Madam Ruthalia. Please consider this fact as you steadily and proudly increase your profit output."
GD-002-17, commonly referred to as Adelram Drax, kept his massive steel arms politely behind his back as he spoke. His voice was even-toned and without malice, but the message was quite clear. He didn't have to resort to tones or double messages to be an imposing figure. Without waiting for the Foreman to respond, Adelram's dome-shaped helmet snapped toward the direction of Ruthalia.
"Madam Ruthalia, I have informed the Foreman of your commands." Adelram dutifully informed the Regional Manager of his success.
He took in information at an incredible speed, noticing petty details others wouldn't consider. For the few brief seconds he was able, he observed the Madam flick through the camera positions, gracing upon nameless miners. Nameless to anyone but Drax. He connected a face with a name, a gait with an identity. All of it, crammed into his shiny metallic head of his.
James O'hara, Yuri Sokolov, Oliver Johnson, Leelo Sheea, Alvin-
The names of Galatec's humble servants flashed like lightning in front of his eyes. Truly, his creators were one of ultimate expansion. Dominating other living creatures was an interesting purpose to exist.
The light from his helmet showed poorly through the rusty hue of the cave. He always took note of the small things, the inconsequential details that seemed so minuscule that it was nearly worthless at the time. In the long run, they were just things to distract him. A sequence of intuitive observations to keep him sane, to keep him from acting on his emotions. He furrowed his brows while his large fingers felt the raw surface of the cavern.
He moved on mentally and decided to remind himself of his duties.
Mineshaft 27... he mused to himself, always moving forward. The rock here is hard, harder than Dumas anyway.
Michael pounded on the rock and felt the echo of his impact flow back through him. they had worked meticously to keep the mine strong, either that or it was a New Earth-made fortress. Natural and wholly unmoving. The Red Rock mines were certainly for Class 3 miners and above, and now he could see why. Novices would ruin it; they would waste precious veins, get lost in the winding and dazing tunnels, or die from unexpected drop or fall. He hadn't been in there for more than a few mintues when he stumbled upon one himself. Nearly slipped down into a dark pit.
It hadn't taken long for the mines to widen. The entrance had been massive but he could tell from the walls afar that it would be narrow before widening again. He felt like water might had carved its path through it once but its absence was unnerving to his judgement. Not a sound of a river or drop anywhere. Only heat and humidity had blown from its hollow halls now.
Finally he peered into the dark, where his helmet's light revealed stalactites arcing the cave ceiling and stalagmites dotting the floor way down and near the walls. A heavy breath left him as he unraveled the map from his pocket to place himself and his goal in perspective. His uniform was already half way off, the sleeves tied around his waist and hanging near his ankles. The gray-shirt he wore was stained by sweat... his cousin's daily planner was tucked in his back pocket.
"Not too long now," he said softly, before sliding the map back in his pocket. He readjusted the circlet of rope over his shoulder and picked up his pickaxe; he eyed the blast sticks nervously before packing those up as well.
Maybe I should go back and get things straightened out.
Tommy could feel the grime mounting on him as he climbed into a particularly tight tunnel, a tunnel probably too tight for his newfound friend to crawl through. Sure, no one had spoken during the last three hours at all except for the three githkin, who seemed to alternate between the word "Faster" and the word "Work," but Tommy was sure this person working with him would be his friend anyway, everyone likes friends!
He made his way through the tunnel, which seemed to only get tighter as he went through. Tommy's stomach growled loudly, an indicator of the hunger he was trying to avoid thinking about. Still, that was no matter. It only meant that it would be more satisfying when he finally got to eat! Ah, the lovely taste of his meal for the day was waiting for him when he got home. However, the thoughts of food were violently banished as Tommy hit his head on the top of the tunnel. "Owww..." he said, rubbing the newly formed bruise on his head. Apparently he had lost track of what he was doing, but the bump came just in time. It looked like the tunnel here actually widened before ending in a small niche, and he could spot a fresh ore vein waiting to be mined within it. Perfect!
As he turned back to tell Oliver and the githkin of his new discovery, Tommy started singing a small tune. "300 piles of rocks in the mine, 300 piles of rocks! Take one down, mine it out, 299 piles of rocks in the mine..." It was not the first time Tommy had sang that song today, and it likely wouldn't be the last. If he sang he could keep his spirits up and not get pulled down by his situation... right?
"D-don't worry, Director, i-it's just a spider," Clementine said, trying to assuage the hysterical Shplorn. Getting between the Accounting Director and the arachnid so Shplorn wouldn't need to look at it, Clementine added, "Mr. Fallen will take care of it soon."
Letting Jonah do the menial task Shplorn had ordered him to do, something Clementine was sure was well beneath his skills, Clementine started flipping through the fiscal statements to distract Shplorn's attention from the spider. Clementine meticulously scanned through the statements, noticing that here and there, were hidden losses and costs that were unaccounted for. Clementine pointed them out to Shplorn, offering the possibility that in a facility of this size, reporting errors were practically inevitable, despite Galatec's famed efficiency. Clementine then offered to perform an audit at each department that had discrepancies to resolve these issues.
Looking behind her to make sure Jonah had performed his assignment, Clementine backed away from Shplorn to allow the Director full view of her table again. "I will hopefully have these matters resolved soon, and hopefully you'll be able to report higher profit margins than before. But I will keep an eye out for embezzlement." Clementine stood at attention and waited fro the Director to adjourn the meeting before heading out of the tiny office.
On her way out, Clementine turned to Jonah and remarked unsarcastically, "Good job with that spider." She decided that she would head to the vehicle bay first, as one of the largest unaccounted costs she had seen was an unmanned mining vehicle.
The small arachnid was under his palm in one second and brushed off into the small bin next to him in the next before he was once again standing next to his charge. Surprisingly, he didn't actually kill the thing, but it was rather small and quickly scurried away as his charge began to settle so he was sure no one bothered to notice. The new arrival gave him a look but as she congratulated him later before leaving he was sure he was in the clear for the time being.
He had been performing these small acts of rebellion ever since he had let the rebel girl escape again. No matter, there was no harm, and his actions only served to better the situation of the empire as a whole. Spiders killed other insects which meant letting one live would result in the benefit of his superior's later work ethic. Really though, he may have just been slowly coming around to a certain someone's view point after a rather hard shock to his system of beliefs.
He quickly returned to standing next to his charge with hands behind his back and cold eyes scanning the area, the professional, silent stance of a sentry constantly alert to potential dangers. One of which seemed to be a stirring in his employer's nerves, killing spiders seemed to be his main task, something he noticed with each time she screamed for assistance.
The current “bug elimination” had been the third time such an act was required by him, apparently there was more life in this hole-in-the-ground than the faces of the workers would have you believe. He was fine with it though, while skittish and afraid of everything around her, his newest charge kept him on his toes. But, as most of his time here had been opening doors and playing exterminator, guarding the Accounting Director was a simple mission, and he supposed that it meant the higher ups were trusting him more if he was being put in charge of the security concerning someone so entwined in their financial system. Yes, things were definitely going well for him. He could only hope that it stayed that way.
“Was there anything else you needed mam?” He inquired coolly, piercing blue eyes never leaving their post of looking straight forward. It was strange how quiet the day had been, yes he was content with the situation but that didn't stop him from being naturally suspicious as hell about said easiness.
He had a natural unease about his presence there. Yes, his work was easy but that seemed to be what was unsettling him the most. Perhaps it was him over thinking the situation but he was sure that, as his background included some combat experience, that his being requested specifically meant he was going to be putting down something or someone on a slightly larger scale than the average “creepy crawly”. The small office, the lack of anything out of the ordinary, the fact that he was called away after stopping an attack on a Galatec employee, shouldn't they have placed him in the city? Or was it because of his accomplishments that his current boss requested him, was he here just for her peace of mind, she seemed quite skittish so that wasn't an impossibility.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling, he never trusted when things were going right.
*Huff, huff* Oliver could barely gather his breathe let alone lift this next red ore block. Three days was as long as he had been at Red Rock, but with the strain of work and not even being able to grieve his parents death made it fell like years. Receiving constant beatings, getting low amounts of sleep, and being chained up-many would crack and fall apart in those kinds of situations, but Ollie wouldn't give up hope. He had to push through. He believed someday something would change. He should be dead now, but fate gave him a second chance. It couldn't be just to work til his death, but he was starting to lose hope.
Working with Tommy was interesting. For some reason being near him slightly revitalized Ollie. He didn't know why, but he hoped that it was a sign things would change. Ollie was having trouble putting some of the ore in the hovercart when a Githkin snapped its whip at him. This caused Ollie to fall over, *Crap.* Ollie quickly got up before the Githkin could pounce. He lifted the ore above the side of the cart and dropped it in, *Come on. You can do this Ollie. Don't let them take your heart from you.* Ollie could hear Tommy singing from the small crevice he had just gone through; and instead of just listening this time, Ollie uttered the first words he had said in the past few days by singing along, "297 piles of rocks in the mine, 297 piles of rocks! Take one down, mine it out, 296 piles of rocks in the mine..." Ollie decided he shouldn't just work for himself, but also for the others around him. For people like Tommy.
Foreman Jo'ones recoiled once Ruth slapped him across the face. If reptiles could bruise, he'd have a real nasty shiner right now. The look on his face said it all. The shock, the confusion, the fear, he was not used to being treated this way. His misfortune was not yet over, as the imposing android Adelram Drax stepped forward, looming over him, and fulfilled the commands of his mistress. The lizard man looked like he was about to shake in fear, but was able to compose himself.
"Yes, ma'am," he acknowledged to Ruth. "I will ensure that the workers are more productive and efficient immediately. Is that the entirety of your reason for visiting today?"
Jo'ones stood at attention like a proud military man. In fact, he used to be. Prior to becoming the foreman of Red Rock, he was a member of the Galatec Fighter Battalion. If the entire division hadn't been shut down due to the development of cloned githkin soldiers, he would still be a proud soldier within the corporation.
The assistants did their best to ignore what was happening around them, choosing to focus instead on their work. They plugged away at computer consoles, directing various bits of machinery and workers in the most efficient manner they could. Break time had come up five minutes ago, but there was no way they were taking a break while the regional manager was visiting, much less in the same room as them.
Everything appeared to be in order on the viewing screen. The slav-er, that is, employees were hard at work. Most were glad to donate their blood, sweat, and tears without any external motivation. A very very small and select few happened to be in chains and receiving regular whippings by the githkin that watched over them. These employees were not quite as productive, but they did well enough.
"Yes, this really is finally happening," the mentor spoke with an air of relief. He stood from the work bench and placed the red photon morpher within a protective case, then sealed it in. Then he carried the precious weapon to a table which held the other 5 morphers, each in their own protective cases, and set it down next to its brothers.
"They may not be the most ideal heroes we could find," he said, turning to look at Samara and help ease her doubts. "But they are the heroes we need. At least, I hope they are. If any of them choose not to help, then we will send them back with the Refraction Displacement System, no harm done. It's not like they could report where we are if any prove to be hostile! Hahaha."
He made his way past Samara to a computer console. Sitting down, he began to access some of the security camera footage in the Red Rock facility. Flipping about from camera to camera, he stared at the various screens, trying to locate something.
"Necessity first, comfort second," he called back in response to his assistant's complaining about the heat. "Samara, I can't locate them on the cameras. You have those trackers active? If we can't see them, we can activate the Displacement System!"
Michael made his way through some dark, dangerous mine. At first he was surrounded by plenty of company. Other workers toiled away, githkin watched over them. A few githkin tried to give him trouble, but a single look at his orders and they quickly stepped aside. If it weren't for the fact that this was a hellish hole in the ground where people came to work themselves to death, Michael might have mistook this for some kind of VIP treatment.
After several minutes of navigating the tunnels, the population thinned out. No longer were there any workers. No longer were there any githkin watching over his every move. There was only rock, darkness, and Michael. The map became significantly more difficult to read as the lights in the area had burned out long ago. Something felt strange. The tunnels and equipment here were all old. Why would he be told to find new paths and ore veins in an old, unused tunnel?
It all came to a head when Michael came across a mine shaft with a large, rusted, sealed door. There was no doubt about it, the map told him to keep going. Now how was he going to get passed this big sealed door?
Singing together made the work go by faster, that it did. The githkin didn't seem to mind either. Maybe so long as it didn't interfere with production, they didn't care. Maybe they enjoyed the song too. Maybe it didn't even register in their tiny brains. Regardless, the two were free to sing through their shift and lift their spirits.
By the time they had gotten to 117 piles of rocks, Tommy found something very pretty. Very valuable. Absolutely fantastic! He got through the tunnel to a small opening and inside the crevice sat a piece of glowing red ore. It was the size of a basketball! Absolutely huge! Only problem was how heavy it was. There was no way that Tommy was getting that big honkin' piece of oranium out of the opening by himself, and Oliver was too big to get through. Digging through the rock would take forever! They only had one option, and that was to request the use of heavier digging equipment. Maybe some blasting sticks, or an ion drill, or hell maybe one of those slave driving githkin could just punch the rock. They were strong enough.
Meanwhile, Oliver caught sight of something interesting of his own. A single githkin patrolled through the tunnels, carrying with it a young boy no older than Oliver himself. The boy was badly beaten, exhausted, and likely on the verge of death. Still, the githkin carried the boy by his collar, dragging him along the ground when the creature was strong enough to lift the boy comfortably. This githkin was unique among its peers, as it wore a sash over its shoulder, and had a long scar across its face.
If spiders could talk, then this one would thank Jonah for his kindness. After all, it was only trying to make a living by eating pests. Really, it was one of the hardest workers in this whole damn mine. If anyone deserved a promotion, it was Mr. Legs, right? Well clearly Shplorn didn't feel that way, but she fell for Jonah's slight of hand all the same.
"Huff... Puff... Thank you, Mr. Fallen. You've saved my life yet again. I will see to it that you get a promotion, yes I will!" She attempted to catch her breath, recovered from hyperventilating, and recomposed herself before addressing Clementine. "Yes yes, I see you have an eye for detail. Miss Mayweather, I can tell that you will do a fantastic job. You have free reign to conduct your audits with my full authority."
Indeed Clementine did catch quite a few details that the layman would have missed. Most of it seemed to be missing wiring and computer supplies, but the list also included unaccounted for blasting supplies, food and water rations, and power packs. Yet the biggest discrepancy did appear to be a drill that had gone missing for about two weeks before mysteriously showing up again in the vehicle dock. Most peculiar.
"Mr. Fallen, I fear I may have tired myself. I shall go take a rest in my personal quarters. While I do so, I would like you to extend your protection to Miss Mayweather while she conducts her business here." Shplorn gave the smallest hint of a smile to the two as she spoke, then stood up and squeezed her way to the door, then vanished around the corner.
Tommy had acquired a few new bruises. The palms of his hands were filled with a rather unsanitary combination of blood, sweat, and dirt, though the calluses that had already formed there were keeping any deep cuts from forming. Tommy's knees looked much the same, as every pair of trousers he owns had ripped years ago due to his job. However, Tommy didn't care, as singing with Oliver really did make it all go a bit faster, and while it wasn't enjoyable it was certainly tolerable. Even better though, Tommy found a big hulking ol' vein of oranium!
He kept singing as he crept into the crevice where it lay, looking on the ground for a few pebbles of the oranium he could snatch. He would tell them of his discovery once he made sure he couldn't get just a bit into his pockets... If there was one thing Tommy made sure was not ripped, it was his pockets.
After a few moments, he yelled out to the tunnel. "I found a vein here! Can we get a drill over here? I can't lift this out by myself and none of you can fit!"
With that Tommy made his way back to the tunnel, continuing his singing as he waited for the githkin's response.
The air in the mines were humid and it made him feel labored, though he knew he had more energy left to tap into. He pushed even further down the tunnel, trudging on until he came upon a rusted, metal door. He dropped his tools without concern and looked around.
The fact that the mines had grown old had not escaped him. He felt himself trail the scar of his nose out agitation. Perhaps for the fifth time since entering Red Rock. It was a counter for him, a counter for how many times he'd felt unsure or hesitant since arriving. It wasn't a good thing. The feeling usually boded ill events, whether they be small or large.
Michael glanced behind him. The long dark trail behind was devoid of sentient sound and it, for the first time, made him wish for supervision and company. However, he had never been one to cower from doing what had to be done, so he stepped towards the sealed door, place his large hand on its rusted browned surface, and thought intently on his purpose for being there.
Was it really to find new veins of ore? It couldn't be, not in an abandoned dried up mine like this one. Suddenly his gut roused and he felt uneasy in the situation, certainly uneasy.
I get the feeling the option to turn back was never mine. More like, there was no option. I'm being forced down here by Galatec... but why? He stressed.
He held the blast sticks he was supplied with in his hands now. His hazel eyes fell onto the seal door as he thought through his subsequent actions. Once he placed them down and lit them, he'd need to safely get out the blast range. Could he make that run? How powerful were they? He scowled in the pale darkness. He'd have to trust his instincts like usual.
Once placed around the door, Michael set the blast sticks and sprinted away. For some reason, he wanted to keep a eye on the explosion, so he slid low to the ground and waited for the boom. The boom would released a heated breath he was sure, one that he was willing to endure to see what awaited him beyond.
"Reveal your secrets to me," he muttered before shielding his face with his long arms.
Ruth turned to watch the cowering Foreman as Drax carried out her request. She forgot how literal she had to be with this robotic monster that she called a General. She missed having a capable, organic subordinate around that could understand her undernoted threats and requests. She would bear it in mind for future encounters. Drax was useful though, just not for these kinds of instructions.
As she watched the Foreman compose himself after the fear that had just been instilled within him, Ruth felt mild agitation course through her as her eyes narrowed while watching him for but a moment. Her mental link stretched out and she maintained constant eye contact with the Foreman as she probed his mind. A former soldier was it? A sergeant at that. He didn’t seem impressed with the fact the Githkin had taken over the military ranks as Galatec’s new cannon fodder. Ungrateful swine, he should be ecstatic that he wasn’t on the front lines anymore! Galatec was doing him a favour. What a disgraceful attitude to have as a Foreman of one the more important mining facilities on New Earth.
"Yes, ma'am, I will ensure that the workers are more productive and efficient immediately. Is that the entirety of your reason for visiting today?"
Well this one was certainly very inquisitive. She didn’t like that. Not at all. That was strike three, which was two more than she generally needed to issue her next order. ”Don’t bother ensuring anything, Sergeant Jo’ones.” It was the first time that she had spoken to him directly and she had purposefully ignored his final question. She waved her hand dismissively at him as she walked to stand beside Drax, her eyes no longer watching Foreman Jo’ones.
”Oh Drax, would you do me a huge favour and take this ungrateful snake outside to a nice and secluded area, that is easily cleaned that bit is important, and skin him alive for me please?” She looked directly at Foreman Jo’ones then and smiled at him. She walked slowly towards him. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Her smile widened even more as she watched his reaction.
”Then, Drax, I want you to take his body and smoosh it up into mincemeat proportions. It can do for some mystery meat somewhere. Be sure to store his skin safely somewhere and have it collected so that I can get someone to create a wonderful handbag for me. Thank you kindly, dear.” Ruth winked at Sergeant Jo’ones before she turned and strode away with the sound of her heels echoing in the now deathly silent room. She stood back in front of the screen that she had been perusing earlier and continued to watch for anything out of the ordinary.
Ollie was working faster and better than he had been a few moments ago. The singing really invigorated him. It also kept his mind awake so that his focus was stronger. He started counting out the number of piles they had gotten through as if each one was a major accomplishment, "117 down! A ton more to go!"
A few seconds later he heard Tommy call out about a big vein he needed help with. While the Githkin turned to the direction of Tommy's voice, Ollie saw in the corner of his eye the sash-clad, scar-faced Githkin. A flash of an expression that could be described as a mixture of anger and despair appeared on Ollie's face. *NO! Why is that one here.* Ollie hadn't even noticed the kid it was dragging at first, *What's it doing to that kid. No, no, no, no. It can't be planning to kill him. I gotta do something, but what? Crap!* While the Githkin in charge of Ollie were looking at the wall of rock between them and Tommy's big vein, Ollie tried to slip away. Grabbing a rock Ollie came up behind scar-face and was getting ready to smack it in the head.
"Yes, Madame Ruthalia." The giant android, having been standing right next to the now ex-Foreman Jo'ones, simply reached out of his arm and grabbed the foreman by the front of his uniform, folding the top of the fabric under his steel fingers. He lifted up Jo'ones, the reptilian's feet dangling in the air, iron grip unmovable.
Addressing the foreman's assistants: "I cannot be certain, but I would expect a promotion on the horizon for one of you."
The General, with the foreman in his right hand, lead with his left arm. He hunched slightly as he pushed open a door. Adelram walked among the bustling workers for a small bit, catching a few curious glimpses from miners and Githkin. He camly scanned the environment. "Take the ungrateful snake to a secluded area, that's easy to clean." Perhaps some kind of metal platform where little activity was going on. Hm. Adelram flipped through his internal catalogs, but to no avail. Secluded and easy to clean weren't part of his searching categories. Drax thought that, given that there his a relatively high probability for this situation or similar to occur again, that the scientists should update his data-base to cater to such a extravagant demotion. Luckily for Drax, he had the perfect guide right there in his right hand.
"Excuse me, Foreman Jo'ones, do you know of a secluded area that would be easy to clean up in case of an accident?" Adelram asked, completely serious.
Clementine bowed slightly as she and Jonah were dismissed and Shplorn excused herself to her quarters. As she headed towards the vehicle bay, she decided to make some small talk, "Thank you for accompanying me, though I don't think protection will be necessary; unless the spiders here are more dangerous than I assume. Oh, but I'm not rejecting your company or anything; you're free to accompany me...I mean...I suppose it's your job..." Clementine chided herself for attempting to hold a conversation; a skill she knew she was bad at.
This break in conversation had Clementine feeling self-conscious and awkward, and she hoped Jonah would fill the silence. She looked at him, noticing his confident stride and professional attitude and wished she could be as sure of herself.
When they arrived at the vehicle bay, Clementine looked around, seeing if she could identify the employee in charge.
“That’s true,” Samara agreed with the mentor, however she was unable to avoid thinking about the risks that could come from it. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, it was that she was forced to trust a group of unknowns with a monumental task in such short time, and that wasn’t something she was one hundred percent on. Her passion to find the best decision for the best outcome was enough to give her headaches on a regular basis. Something could always go wrong with this; the RD System was fully functional given they had a target in range of light, but what if the suits didn’t have enough innate power to give them an edge? And what if they panicked from the stress of actual combat? Not all of them were built for that kind of pressure. It was enough to make her mind explode as the negative outcomes were pit against the positive ones. They had come too far to just lose like this.
Placing a hand on her steaming forehead, Samara wiped away another building mass of sweat that formed. She turned and approached her partner-in-rebellion, coming beside him as he flew from camera to camera, attempting to locate the candidates. Seeing the futility in it before he had, she had dug into her pocket once again to retrieve the miniature pad, opening it and connecting it to the computer just ahead. As he mentioned the tracker system’s readiness, the readings on the pad--power, shell integrity, and now came the faces and physical profiles of those that the trackers would be targeting--appeared on the main screen for the mentor’s viewing. “Already on it,” she replied.
Samara had begun to input commands onto the pad that allowed those trackers to be put to real work. They could track motion at a fairly strong range surrounding this location, but another strength they had was the ability to project image-reading waves thanks to the integration of a highly advanced ground-penetrating radar. The trackers were underwhelming as individuals, but together as a group they would manage to cover the depths of the mines in record time. As soon as commanded, the waves begun to travel through rock and dust all around them. In moments they had managed to uncover two of the ranger hopefuls. “Easy enough,” Samara smiled as two figures on the screen were located. With the RDS being prepared, Jonah and Clementine were marked by a violet and yellow hue on said screen, being targeted for the process. “Two down.”
It had taken a little more time, but the waves had managed to travel as low as level thirteen to locate the next two. Like the previous duo, the next two were marked by colored hues on the RDS display, Oliver with green, and Tommy with blue. “Another two,” Samara’s eyes narrowed, surprised that there was still one missing from the group. Level thirteen was very low already. For Michael to still be missing from the radar was surprising.
She gave it some time, and some more time, until an entire minute had passed. Her expression was one of blatant confusion and disbelief. Michael should have been found by now, but the radar continued to show nothing in every known location of Red Rock’s mining operation. The nerves had begun to work, making her appear grim rather than thrilled. The other four were simple to locate and were even in pairs to make things easier. Samara couldn’t explain this, and it was bothersome. To be the best at what she does meant failure could not be an option, especially when they were barely getting started.
“It can’t find Michael,” She finally said, trying to have the waves go from the start, closer to the base, and expand outward once again. The system worked well enough to find the first four, so it couldn’t possibly be broken. Samara’s eyes scanned the tunnel systems and operation areas for the facility along with the waves, slowing it down and making certain that they didn’t miss him somehow. They had passed Jonah and Clem—already locked by the RDS—and traveled lower, soon passing Oliver and Tommy once again. Nothing.
“He’s—he’s gotta be here somewhere,” Samara muttered worriedly. It wasn’t impossible for them to continue without him, but Power Rangers worked much better in a complete set. He wasn’t high, nor was he low—he was simply nowhere to be found. “Do we continue with the plan and find him later?” she asked her partner, who was sure to know how to proceed.
“Of course mam, please rest well.” He said, saluting before walking out.
Now that struck a nerve in his “not right bone”. She sent him away, with a stranger. She let herself be alone, something that contradicted her earlier behavior. Things were beginning to make less sense and it didn't sit well. If he cared enough, he might have said something but his job wasn't to question orders, it was to follow them. He had a nice thing going and while he still heard that annoying echo of a certain someone in his head, he had no plans to go full on rebel and ruin his own life.
Still, his superior's behavior nagged at him but as he walked with the accountant, he found himself pushing it to the back of his mind. Better to be alert than than distracted by doubt.
And as for said accountant, she was....talkative. He wasn't a huge fan of talking to others, obviously, and he didn't really like to listen to other people, especially when on the job as it was a huge distraction. Instead, he kept silent and looked forward as they walked towards their destination. When they reached the vehicles, he stood with arms behind his back and feet together, resuming his professional stance from earlier as they waited for the employee in question.
Now this was a situation, wasn't it? Foreman Jo'ones stared Ruth down the entire time she spoke, maintaining eye contact, but at the mention of being skinned alive he simply blinked dully, as though confused. Did she really just make that order? Surely it was a joke? After working hard for Galatec for the last 432 years of his life he was to be cast off, just like that? It had to be a joke! But it couldn't be, as Jo'ones knew that Drax was incapable of understanding such things. His fears were only confirmed when the colossal android grabbed hold of him and dragged him out of the control room.
"Excuse me, Foreman Jo'ones, do you know of a secluded area that would be easy to clean up in case of an accident?" inquired the robot without a hint of remorse or irony in his tone. Jo'ones struggled, uselessly, for a moment, but then had a retort.
"Right here is fine," he growled as he pulled his hand out from his pocket and slammed his palm against the arm Drax used to hold the foreman up. A powerful electric current surged through the robot. The damage was minimal, negligible even, but it messed with his circuits just enough to cause a spasm, releasing the foreman.
Jo'ones landed on his feet skillfully, then held out his open palm for the android to see. He had some kind of shock device around his hand. A quick scan of his database informed Drax that it was the hand mounted Tesla Charger, standard issue to Galatec military personnel decades ago. Outdated technology, but still useful in a pinch as was just proven.
"I'm not going down without a fight, robot!" Jo'ones began a flurry of punches against Drax, fist pounding against metal faster than most people could react to, and powerful enough to outright kill. Then again, Adelram Drax wasn't most people, and the blows, if he had any touch sensors, would only tickle him.
Meanwhile, Ruth continued monitoring the mining station for anything out of the ordinary. For the most part everything looked fine. Slaves were hard at work, githkin kept a close watch on them, same old same old. Something did catch her eye, however. Two young humans, a male and a female, were walking together toward the vehicle docking station. They traveled together unsupervised. The monitor's scanners identified the two as Jonah Fallen, a human with Loyalty Benefit Status, and Clementine Mayweather, an office worker. According to the screen, both were currently under Red Rock's Director of Accounting, Shplorn. What were they doing entering the vehicle bay? Well, two humans with privileged status couldn't possibly be doing anything out of the ordinary, right?
Clementine's attempt at conversation apparently went unanswered as Jonah remained stoic and quiet as ever, forcing the two to travel with minimal interaction. The walk took about four minutes, during which time they had had their access checked by no less than three security githkin and two keycard swipers, but finally they reached an elevator that took them to the ground level. Once the doors parted for them, Clementine and Jonah found themselves inside a large vehicle hanger. About two dozen vehicles of different shapes and sizes were immediately visible, while a few mechanics worked on them. In the center of the room was the largest of all the vehicles, the size of a building! Sadly it was kept from view under some kind of tarp, with a barricade setup around it and two githkin standing on guard.
Once they stepped into the hanger bay, a woman wearing a blue jumpsuit covered in grease approached them. She appeared human, save for silver eyes. Those knowledgeable in xenology could easily pick her out as a Mercurian, an alien species that could transform into liquid mercury at will. The name tag on her jumpsuit read "Kylo."
"Hello hello. My name is Kylo, and I'm the chief mechanic here. What can I do ya for?"
Tommy was able to get a small portion of the oranium into his pockets, his own little personal treasure. When he called back for assistance, the githkin that kept watch over he and Oliver turned to look inside the crevice that Tommy had squeezed into. It looked around for a moment then shouted a single word in response. "Come."
The scar-faced githkin shot Oliver a look as it passed by, a look that just oozed smugness. Looks like it remembered Oliver just as much as Oliver remembered it. That was one thing, but whatever it planned to do with that kid was another entirely and Oliver could not stand for such injustice. He grabbed a rock and, taking advantage of his supervising githkin's distraction, attempted to sneak up on the scar-faced alien. He was able to get right up behind the creature, and brought the stone down right on its head!
The githkin released the child by reflex and grabbed its head in pain, but recovered quickly. It spun around and reached out, grabbing Oliver by the neck. With impressive strength, it lifted the young man off the ground, choking him. It was then that the other githkin came running up, having taken notice of the scuffle. In the middle of it all, the child took off around the corner, out of sight.
BOOM! Dust and hot air kicked up from the explosion, blasting past Michael. If he hadn't shielded his face, his eyes would be in tremendous pain right now. As it was, the dust cleared and Michael could make out the fruits of his labor. The large metal door had been blasted open, revealing a mine shaft freight elevator. It looked like it could hold about 30 people. The light flickered on and off, but hopefully the elevator itself would be operating better than the light.
The mentor smiled in acknowledgement at Samara's accomplishments, truly proud of the tracking technology she had developed. There was no way he could have accomplished what he did without her assistance, that was for sure. He nodded once Samara located the first two youths. Once the second two were found, there would only be one to go. Fantastic! Only he wasn't found. Michael couldn't be found. What the...? After all the work he had put into shifting schedules around to get that kid at Red Rock, now he wasn't around? That couldn't be right!
Quickly he ran over to another computer terminal and tapped away at it. A few seconds later he looked back at Samara and said, "Facility logs show he checked in. This is worrisome."
"Do we continue with the plan and find him later?" she asked. He nodded.
"We'll have to. This is the only opportunity we'll have for this many of them to be together at once. The transfers I arranged for are only valid for one day. Activate the RD System." He stood up and composed himself. After a deep breath, the mentor took a walk to the center of the cavern they were using as a base of operations, near a light projector. The four they located should appear directly in front of him, if all went according to plan, and he would do his best to introduce himself and explain the situation.
New Angel Grove. Capitol of New Earth. Galatec Regional Headquarters was located in this city, the city with the largest population on the planet, estimated at 4.3 million last census. Mable had a concert tonight, just as she had every night. This time she would be revealing a brand new song, one that, according to the news propaganda, was a "picture into her heart." This morning was the first time she had ever even seen the lyrics, and she was supposed to master the performance in time for a show in three hours? Yeah right.
It was mid-afternoon, and Mable sat in the back seat of a limo. The sky was sunny and warm, just as scheduled by the Galatec Weather Operators, while few people roamed the streets. And why would they? Most would be toiling away underground or in factories or in some dead end office cube. The few people she could see out the window were either the privileged humans that had special "Loyalty Benefit Status," or alien Galatec representatives. And githkin peacekeepers, of course.
Mables agent and manager, Gajoon, sat next to her. He looked like some kind of tall, bipedal octopus with hands squeezed into a suit, wearing tiny spectacles. He was currently performing some kind of business on his mobile phone, typing away with his gelatinous fingers, completely ignoring his environment.
Dumas Mine
It was another beautiful day in the Dumas mine! Jackson had already been working for a good two hours amidst the rock and stone. Today he had the job of using a large drill to clear out some rubble. What fun! Wasn't Galatec super neat and fair? I mean, drills? That's just cool. And that githkin watching over his back at all times, what a swell guy. Galatec was nice to provide him with a good friend to keep him company! Vroom vroom!
That's when a bell rang through the caverns of the mine, signalling break. Jackson got a solid 3 minutes to drink water, get a snack, and catch his breath. Once the bell rang, some of the miners in the area set down their equipment and began to make conversation. The nearest to Jackson were a couple of twin girls, probably about 20 or so. Even in the bright lighting Galatec wired throughout the mines (because employees need to be kept safe, right?) their skin was quite dark. One wore her hair up in a bun, while the other had hers in dreadlocks. Apart from that, they were indistinguishable from one another.
The order was clear and concise. Samara took to activating the RDS by replacing the seat that the mentor had previously taken, setting her pad aside while doing so. With several sharp keystrokes, the hues that surrounded the four individuals on the screen intensified. A window appeared asking for final confirmation of the system’s activation. She didn’t hesitate.
“Here we go,” confirming the targets and pressing the final key, Samara turned her chair towards the projector and waited for four-fifths of the team to arrive.
