[hider=Michael]The [url=http://orig07.deviantart.net/499b/f/2016/092/a/2/lillian_droves_by_simsterd-d9xfwxj.png]young woman[/url] seemed amused by Michael's initial shock, but that amusement faded rather quickly. There were important matters at hand that deserved her attention. After Michael answered her question, she smirked and chuckled. 

"You're darn right they're not normal. But you called'em devils. That tells me you're on the level." She i holstered a sidearm, an archaic weapon from a bygone era know as a 9mm pistol, and held it up in front of the confused miner. "I'm glad our contact was right and you're immune. Like us. We're here to free as many humans as we can, and cripple Galatec's biggest mining operation on the planet. They [i]have[/i] to be stopped."

She gave pause for a moment, taking the time to look Michael right in his eyes. He could see something there. Hatred. She was consumed by it, like an inferno raging in her very soul. 

"I heard about your cousin. She needs to be avenged, don't you think think?"[/hider]

[hider=Drax]The foreman was forced to drop his weapon in a desperate leap to dodge the blaster Drax had fired. By twisting himself in the air he managed to narrowly avoid the first shot. As for the second, it had exactly the effect Drax intended. Jo'ones flew upward into the air in a shower of sparks, his scales burned and scorched. The lizard man fell downward, over the railing, but he did not fall to the bottom. Jo'ones made use of those fully articulate feet of his and grabbed the edge of the railing. 

Just as Drax determined that the foreman was still alive, and hanging on for dear life, he received a transmission from Ruth's communication frequency. “General Drax, we have a situation. Return to the Foreman’s office now. If the lizard isn’t dead yet, bring him too.”[/hider]

[hider=Ruth]The workers kept going, despite Ruth's temper and slapping. Her mind probing revealed their thoughts. The first assistant was absolutely terrified of Ruth, but was using that fear to stay focused on the task at hand. She furiously tapped away at the computer, desperate for results. The second resented their treatment. He was angry with Ruth, but knew better than to complain. He too put his all into his work, but was completely flummoxed about what to do or what had happened.

As the mental commands went out, Ruth could feel the githkin of Red Rock scrambling about to complete their orders. Both in her mind and on screen Ruth could see the cloned soldiers checking under every rock, in every cranny, gathering all of the slaves that were immune to "reconditioning," and all manner of other deeds. One in particular stood out, however. Ruth felt the mind of an elite githkin reach out to her, which she recognized by his serial number XJ-47. [i]Ma'am, I obey and have much to tell.[/i]

Meanwhile, the assistants made a breakthrough. "Madame Ruth, I found something!" called out the frightened female. "It's accounting director Shplorn!"

Indeed it was. The view screen displayed Shplorn, the director of accounting, and the currently assigned supervisor of the two slaves that went missing. She was in her personal quarters talking on some kind of communicator, but the view screen couldn't interpret what she was saying. There was some kind of interference. More than a little fishy.[/hider]

[hider=Strike Force]The team, or the people that he had hoped would make up their team, had doubts. It was to be expected. At least Tommy instantly jumped to the cause, just as John predicted. Clementine had the biggest doubts, which seemed to express as some kind of nervous breakdown, while Oliver was simply hesitant. Jonah had been quiet so far, but that was to be expected based on the personality file John had compiled. 

[color=white][b]"My assistant is correct. You all may be this world's last hope. And no, Oliver. Power Rangers are not just stories. They simply... Haven't been needed. Not for humanity, not for some time."[/b][/color] He took a moment to straighten his tie, then pressed a button on a remote control, which activated a view screen. Images of various power rangers throughout the ages played before their very eyes. Formidable warriors in bright colors battling evil monsters throughout time, inspiring and benevolent, they struggled for the good of the people all around them. [color=white][b]"This is your legacy, young ones. These have been your protectors and they were very real. It has been a proud tradition of humanity. Perhaps I should show you the... Proud tradition of Galatec."[/b][/color]

John pressed another button, and the view screen changed images. What played out before their eyes now was terrible. People forced into hard labor, some working to death. Entire planets strip-mined until they were made hollow and collapsed in on themselves. Entire species being experimented on. John switched it off just before a Galatec scientist was about to perform an autopsy on some kind of sentient alien creature... While still fully alive and aware.

[color=white][b]"I understand why you may not be entirely trusting of me and my associate. I don't blame you. However, I want to assure you, no, [i]promise[/i] you that I am fully trustworthy and ready to guide you. Mentor you. Please, direct you attention to the obituary on the screen."[/b][/color] Indeed, there was now an obituary on the view screen. The name was the same the man had given as his own, with the date of death almost six months ago. However the image did not fit in the least. He was clearly a human, while the image was of some kind of tall, gaunt looking alien. [color=white][b]"Six months ago, I faked my own death and escaped Galatec with classified technology and research equipment. I have since taken on this form in order to better blend in. I have taken a great many risks so that your people can survive and thrive in this universe. Samara has been phenomenal help, but we've reached the limit of what we can do alone. Now, it's up to you. It's time to be a hero."[/b][/color][/hider]

[hider=Mable][Remember PL, this is a more traditional RP, meaning that you only control and decide what your own character does. GM controls the world and all NPCs. For the time being it's not a big deal since most of this is, for the moment, fluff, but it will become a problem soon.]

Practice took a little more than a couple hours. Thank the stars that this band was actually good enough to keep up with Mable, or there was no way she'd have been able to perfect the performance. That said, after the final practice run, Gajoon stood up from his seat and began clapping, giving Mable three separate applauses with his many tentacle-arms. 

"Splendid, just splendid Miss Love!" he congratulated, moving toward her and the band. "I knew you'd be able to do it. Just make sure you're as good when the lights are on and the people are out there, and we'll have ourselves a [i]perfect[/i] show!"

Mable had herself about half an hour before she was due to report to make-up for show preparation. For now, the band began packing things up so they could rest up. Each one stepped out, heading off to who-knows-where, while Gajoon went back to conducting business on his mobile communicator. He began rattling off a list of show dates for the future, meetings they needed to conduct, all the day to day minutiae that didn't really concern Mable that much, but was Gajoon's job to deal with. In that time, there came a knock on the door. Soft, yet persistent, like someone was excited but worried about waking someone at the same time. Gajoon either didn't hear, or didn't pay it any mind, as he continued to rattle off their schedule for five weeks from today.[/hider]