Chip Maplewood's face tightened as he surveyed the scene in front of him. The grey walls of the alder tree were cold and uninviting; it felt like a morgue. The harsh lights above him made him lower his head, and a cold draft seeped from the solitary window in the room.
He instinctively reached to adjust the brim of his hat, but it wasn't there. He always did that when he was nervous, and he felt strange without it on. He wondered what went wrong in order to bring him to this place. Normally, he could see a twist coming a mile away, but not this one, not this time. The situation felt unreal, as if he was observing it happening to someone else from a great distance.
The others didn't look very comfortable either. Chip looked across the table at Dale, who was fidgeting in his seat one moment and scratching the dressing on his hand the next. Gadget was staring up at the ceiling with a pained expression on her face; he couldn't tell if she was trying to figure out how to escape from here or if she was thinking about another new invention of hers. Monty was squeezing his hands into fists as if he wanted to fight his way out, but he couldn't and he knew it.
How could this have happened? Chip couldn't concentrate on anything else. A loud bang came crashing down in front of him, snapping him back to reality and making him cognizant of the handcuffs around his wrists.
A cold, monotone voice spoke. "Court is now in session. The case of the state versus the organization known as the Rescue Rangers will begin…" As Chip drifted back toward his thoughts, he replayed the events of their last case again and again. It felt like it just happened yesterday…