Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Because this is the much more interesting fic to write than the re-write of Aftershock (okay, I admit it: I haven't even started to try to plan what's happening in that but the plan for this was done quite some time ago, and I was only just waiting to finish Sect of the Reaper before posting this. Bad things tend to happen when I post multiple incomplete fics, including never finishing them, and I'm sure you don't want that to happen), this gets posted first.

Prepare for an action-packed fic with random spots of humour (I repeat, RANDOM) featuring most major S.P.D. characters, who have been completely repurposed for this fic. In essence, this is completely un-PR-ish. This chapter will only feature one recognisable character, but don't worry; the rest will be introduced soon. And should I mention that this is a very parody-ish fic on James Bond? Don't worry: if you do like James Bond, I'm not making fun of him. Enjoy, and I'm trying a new system where I only bother you at the start, not at the end. So have fun, leave plenty of reviews and I'll see you next time!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

Time: 2125 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Suspected Apex Weapons Engineering facility.

The night sky of Nevlae Octavus was both dark and bright at the same time. The darkness of the sky was offset by the brightness of the stars, as they shone down on one person making their careful way to the prominent structure of the Apex Weapons Engineering plant. Many of the chimneys were visible, still belching smoke despite it being past normal working hours. That alone was enough to gain attention from worker's rights activists (those people were damned near paranoid about anything that sounded like rights were being pushed), but the company also had a…history of shady dealings.

Bridge Carson couldn't understand why people would actively display their 'shady' dealings in broad daylight…or at least, use unencrypted messages. That was almost like a giant 'arrest me!' sign pointing straight at them. But, he couldn't control how idiotic some people were. No sir, he was just here to do his job.

Nevlae Octavus was a prime planet for exports. Lying along the intersection of many major trading routes between planets, companies and governments, its location allowed plenty of tired ship drivers to stop by and have a rest and refuel before taking off again on their long and arduous journey to wherever they were hauling their cargo. Not too mention it was also a good place to have stashes of completed products for exporting. However, being low on natural resources, it wasn't a particularly good place to have manufacturing plants, unless a company really wanted to lose large amounts of money importing raw materials necessary to complete such productions.

Bridge Carson, clad in black military clothing including an armoured vest that had plenty of pockets (you could never have one too many pockets were one of the two most important creeds he lived by: the other was toast) that suited the current darkness, approached the closed gate quietly. The gate was a typical laser fence, operated by the controls within the guardhouse. The streetlights shone down on him as he made his way down the street. A single guard sat in the guardhouse, his rifle lain across the desk, clearly visible. The desk itself was packed with a papers, Styrofoam coffee cups, soft drink cans and food containers. The guard himself was an alien, and didn't appear to be too concerned about what was going on around him as he read a magazine. The occasional hover car roared by, nearly running over Bridge who was nearly undetectable in the near-darkness.

Creeping up to within metres of the guardhouse undetected, Bridge continued around, crouching beneath the panes of glass, hearing the faint sounds of music coming from within. Reaching the door, he stood up and opened the door. The guard turned and was startled to see Bridge standing at the doorway.

"Hi," he said, before knocking the guard out. The guard slumped back into his chair, the blue imprint of Bridge's fist on his face starting to become darker. "Sorry, nothing personal," Bridge told the unconscious guard as he reached in, and tapped the buttons.

He accidentally hit the power off button for the lights a few times, turned off the music, switched the computer off, knocked out the cameras and accidentally completed a whole myriad of other things before he finally managed to hit the power off button for the laser fencing.

Disabling the fence, Bridge ran through the now-defunct gate and into the parking lot of Apex Weapons Engineering's facility. Bridge Carson was an agent of S.P.D., the premier law enforcement agency across the galaxy. More specifically, he was an agent of their intelligence division, and their top agent at that. He was a crack shot with a pistol and the man to call on in any situation, ranging from investigating suspicious activities to saving hostages and/or whole planets to pulling cats out of trees. Yes, he did that too but only on weekends. Unknown to him, he was also a big hit with the ladies, especially the receptionist, but he more or less so treated them as friends or associates. In fact, everyone at S.P.D. was either an associate of Bridge Carson, or a friend of him or a superior. Sometimes a few people fell into the unspoken 'all of the above' category.

Proceeding through the parking lot, Bridge mentally revised his plan and his objectives. The facility was well-guarded, and upon entering and confirming that there were illegal operations being ran at the plant, all he had to do was force all the people inside out, plant a homing device to signal the position of the plant to an S.P.D. ship, which would then proceed to blast the facility, and anyone still inside, into high orbit. Hopefully, there wouldn't be enough explosives at the facility for that to happen literally.

A pair of guards, who were at first chatting away at things such as low pay (maybe the worker's rights activists did have something to do), crappy hours, guns, music, women, saw the guardhouse booth darken and fence deactivate and die away. The pair moved closer as Bridge pulled over his eyes a pair of night vision glasses. They were useful little buggers: after all, reading in the dark without disturbing people was definitely a perk. Of course, sneaking through darkened parking lots with his funky new glasses too was another perk, as was infiltrating darkened facilities. With his vision now completely green and occasional spots of black, Bridge saw the two guards moving towards the gate and tried quietly crept past them, heading for the facility entrance.

Unfortunately, putting rubbish in the bin wasn't a concept that the guards around the place seemed to understand, as Bridge found out when he accidentally kicked away a beer can, crunched on another and crinkled a packet of...something on the ground. All of which made a very loud, conspicuous sound in the near soundless night. Which also drew the guards' attention to him.

"Hey!" the guards shouted, as they shone torches on him, and then started shooting.

Lasers sparked all across the parking lot as the guards took pot shots at the figure running across the yard. The explosions from the lasers slamming into the ground, parked cars and unused rubbish bins threw up sparks all over the place, making night vision now totally useless as Bridge yanked the glasses off and ran for the entrance. The two guards started to pursue him, shouting various things at him ranging from ordering him to stop, to that he was trespassing on private property to simply swearing at him and telling him to stand still as they ran.

With alarms now blaring, Bridge bolted through the door, just as a metal sheet came sliding down and sealed it off. More guards started to spill out of the other entrances, and Bridge only had to smack two around before he slid into the shadows again. There was another harsh grinding sound of screeching, unattended gears and hydraulics as another rusted, tarnished grate came down in front of the entrance he had come in, in addition to the already overwhelming security in front by the metal blast door.

"Great," he mumbled. Now how was he going to get out?

Continuing through the facility, he found a guard looking around in another guardhouse, and knocked him out with a blow to the head. Bridge managed to catch his body as it fell, and grunted as he heaved it into a darkened corner.

"What do they feed you here?" he asked himself, shaking his head and stretching his cramped arms, which were already freezing up trying to carry the sheer weight of the guard alone. It wasn't that he wasn't strong; after all, he was a secret agent of S.P.D.'s intelligence division, and they did have requirements for the qualifications of becoming one of their agents. One of those was that he worked out nearly everyday except for a few days when he rested. Seeing the doors to the next part of the facility, he walked onwards.

An unpleasant odour met him as he walked through the doors deeper into the plant. He brought a hand up to his nose, and tried to wave off the odour. Large vats filled some kind of liquid sat around the gigantic room, with catwalks ringing all sides and connecting several booths together. If the green smoke/vapour rising from the vats was any indication, it was obvious that Apex Weapons Engineering was up to no good.

Getting up and pulling himself up the stairwell that led to the next level's catwalk, Bridge kept to the shadows as he infiltrated deeper into the heart of the facility, his laser pistol still in his holster. He'd prefer to use it only when necessary.

"You there!" a guard shouted, running at him. "This is a restricted area!"

Bridge turned his head and saw the yellow sign that said in galactic basic 'Restricted Area: All non-employees prohibited. Trespassers will be prosecuted'.

"Oops," Bridge muttered as the guard came up. "Sorry, I didn't see the sign. I'm a bit short sighted you know, so I didn't see it until you just pointed it out."

As the guard got closer, he got a better view of Bridge. "Wait a second, you're the intru…!"

Bridge punched the guard before he could finish the sentence.

"Shh! Keep it down!" he said, before noticing he had knocked the guard out. "Oops. And they say I have a big mouth."

Continuing on, Bridge soon found himself at one of the booths that lined the enormous room. There was a guard, who got up as Bridge entered.

"You're not allowed in here!" he said, raising the baton he carried and walked towards Bridge.

Bridge waited, and as the guard swung he ducked underneath the baton, and fell to the floor, sweeping the guard's legs out from under him. The guard crashed to the ground, slamming his head against the floor and falling unconscious. Bridge dragged his body over to a corner, and propped him up against it.

"Why does everyone say I'm not invited?" wondered Bridge as he moved to the computer, sat down at the guard's chair and started to open folders and files, to find what he was looking for. As he did so, he screwed up his face, as he usually did when thinking. Moving the mouse with one hand, he used his now-free other hand to scratch his head until he had found the right and proper files. "Ah, got it."

Opening a file, he started to read…

From: Apex Management Board of Directors, verification code 001015

To: Manufacturing Facility 027 Managing Board

Subject: Experimental weapons development

/Start File/

What is the progress on the new weapons that you have been developing? We have received your request for additional resources, but we cannot grant it until more satisfactory progress has been made.

Another matter is that the higher ups seem to believe that they have granted you more than enough materials, men and time to at least produce satisfactory results. They are higher up than me, Anton, and they will start to pressure, believe me.

More pressing is the time you have taken. Castillo isn't going to wait much longer for these weapons, and they're threatening to cut off the deal. You'd better get some work done there on those chemicals. If not, it's your job and your ass on the line, in the end.

/End File/

Bridge whistled as he read through the letter. There it all was, Apex's illegal development of chemical weapons, and the proof was right in front of him. Taking out a disc, he inserted it into the hard drive and copied it all. He nervously started to tap the table as the bar signifying the completion status of the copy filled up. Eventually, the bar filled up, and the words 'copy complete' filled the screen. Taking the disc out, Bridge quickly removed any traces of tampering with the machine—not that it was going to matter, with the facility marked to be blown to high heaven.

There was shouting and commotion outside the door to the booth as Bridge finished up on the computer. Thrusting the disc back into his pocket, Bridge leapt away just as a storm of laser fire flew through the door, destroying the computer and conveniently removing any traces he had on it. He kicked a guard in the chest as he ran through the door. The force propelled the guard back into the others, knocking them down like a line of dominoes. There was shouting as they tried to get up as Bridge leapt out of the booth, grinning.

He landed safely on another catwalk and started running again. Taking out a tracking beacon, which now also served as a targeting beacon, he activated it and threw it down, relieved when it didn't fall into the vats of…whatever. He didn't really want to think about what was in there. The smell alone was bad enough, and even if it wasn't chemical weapons, he'd still have the entire place blown up for violating galactic hygiene regulations.

"Stop!" another guard shouted, raising his weapon and firing at Bridge.

"Oh man," Bridge moaned as he started to run again, this time with lasers sparking all along the catwalk behind him. "Run here, run there. Glad I didn't eat that toast earlier."

A guard appeared in front of him, and Bridge tried to stop, but ended slamming into the guard, knocking them both down. Bridge got up first, and grabbed the guard's rifle, and started running, accidentally stepping on the guard's foot. With the howls of pain behind him, Bridge sprayed a series of bolts at the guards taking positions at the catwalks on the other side. The sparks threw off their aim as they ducked to avoid his deliberately missed shots and simply ran screaming. Some of the guards here definitely weren't up to standard.

Bridge saw more guards accumulating in front of him, some kneeling, others standing, but all with their rifles raised all the same. Not stopping, Bridge slung the laser rifle over his shoulder, and gripped the railing tightly as he swung himself over, and dangled from the side. The guards' shouts in his ears, he dropped down…onto the catwalk below him and kept running.

He grunted and stumbled back a few steps when a guard ran around the corner, slamming into each other. They stumbled back as the footsteps grew louder and the guard rose up and pointed his weapon at Bridge.

Bridge however, had a different plan.

"Think fast!" he said, throwing the rifle at the guard.

The guard dropped his own weapon, and caught the rifle Bridge had tossed to him, looked up just as Bridge kicked him and ran past the guard, who had raised his hands to his face. Reaching a PA system inside a booth, Bridge pressed the button after locking the doors and jarring it with a chair.

"Attention everyone. This is S.P.D. We have a ship overhead, and they are preparing to blow this facility into high orbit really, really soon. So if I were you, I'd be running for the exits."

There was quiet as the guards stopped shooting, but no one moved.

Bridge, annoyed, raised his communicator to the PA, and activated it, sending the captain of the S.P.D. vessel's voice over the PA and across the facility.

"This is the S.P.D. vessel Boundless. We have a good lock on your position, Agent Carson. Weapons systems are eighty five percent functional, and are preparing to fire. I recommend that you get the hell out of there, now."

There was quiet again, and then complete and total pandemonium as guards, workers and scientists started to run for the exits, screaming. Bridge grinned, as he too ran for the exit, passing by other people who paid no mind to him, only to the fact that very soon, the facility was going to be turned into scrap metal.

Time: 2145 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. frigate Boundless, in orbit over Nevlae Octavus

High in orbit of the planet, the small S.P.D. vessel Boundless continued to charge its weapons systems, as they received information from Bridge.

"Sir, transmission from Agent Carson. He's got the information," said one of the officers on the bridge, walking over and handing a blue-lit pad to the captain, who stood at the front of the bridge.

"Very good. How are the weapons? Are they ready to fire?"

"In one minute."

"Give everyone down there two. Then give them the firework show of their lives," said the captain, sitting down and reading through the stolen report. "Apex is going down boys. Make sure the weapons will burn off the chemicals still inside."

"Yes sir, two Firestorm torpedos are locked and loaded."

"Are the Rangers down there?"

"Yes sir. They're ready to nab the personnel as soon as they leave."

"Good. Look's like this went off without a hitch," said the captain, watching the screens.

Bridge ran, the night air cool and refreshing to his face after being stuck in the facility with the deadly chemicals.

"Fresh...air!" he gasped, as he slowed outside the gate.

He could see S.P.D. Rangers, at least five squads in standard S.W.A.T. gear arresting the guards, scientists and workers. Shuttles were visible behind them as they started to fence off all of the boundaries. Thankfully, the parking lots that surrounded the facility were quite large, and nobody else was around, though more civilians were starting to gather.

One of the Red Rangers walked up to him as he doubled over, exhausted from the running from the guards, the fighting and the adrenaline-fuelled mad dash out of the soon-to-be-non-existent facility.

"Agent Carson?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Sir, you're wanted back at Central HQ by Commander Cruger."

"Thank you," Bridge said waving at the Red Ranger. "I'll go after the fireworks."

"I'll inform the shuttle to wait for you then, sir."'

Bridge nodded as he slowly recovered. The Red Ranger he had just talked to walked off, shouting orders to the other Rangers, who had the scientists, workers and guards herded into a single large gathering, pushing them towards the waiting shuttles.

There was a brief boom, and soon, two comets were descending from the skies. Every eye watched in fascination as the comets raced towards the facility.

"Get back!" shouted another Red Ranger, as everyone moved back.

The two torpedos slammed into the facility, before blossoming into a fireball that turned into a firestorm, consuming anything that was within the facility and turning it into ashes. The fire was hot enough so that the ashes themselves would be burnt into ashes…which didn't make sense, Bridge thought.

Bridge, shaking his head but satisfied, moved back to the smaller, more luxurious shuttle as the teams of Rangers herded the arrested people into the larger shuttles, and boarded it. He was headed back to some sort of home.