Chapter VI: The Darkness and the Dawn

Noon. That was all the time they had. While the rest of the Rangers rested, Sprocket, Sparky and Tammy worked far into the night, fine-tuning every piece of equipment, and even building some new. The Screaming Eagle's glue cannons were recharged to full capacity, it's overdrive inspected and tuned to a purr, and the wings re-stitched wherever any small discrepancy could be found. The Rangerwing was treated to the same tune-up job, making sure that all of Gadget's 'shoulds' would actually perform. Sprocket knew his mother's tells, and could always spot the loose wires or missing bolts in an instant. With all of this accomplished, and the clock reading twelve-thirty AM, it was time for the group to turn their attention to the need for a clear-cut advantage.

As the three sat at the workbench, Sprocket leaned his head into his palm, and yawned.

"Uncle Sparky, have you got any ideas? My brain's running just about on empty."

Sparky looked at several of Gadget's blueprints that were stretched across the table, and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm getting pretty tapped out too. Tammy my dear, would you mind procuring our needed caffeine dosage?"

"Sure thing, guys."

The squirrel plodded downstairs from the workshop, feeling around for the light switch at the bottom of the staircase. She was beat, just like the others, but she knew their efforts could mean the difference between victory or defeat.

Or life and death.

Upon entering the kitchen, Tammy wasn't surprised to find it already occupied.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked as she reached for the coffee carafe. Gadget smiled ruefully, the tiredness showing in the pinched look around her eyes.

"Not really. I'm pretty much a nervous wreck. I figured I was going to wake Chip up tossing and turning so much, so I just decided to sit here for a while."

"And drown your sorrows in a pot of Maxwell's blackest?"
Tammy looked down at the pot that sat on the table.

"A full pot, at that."

Gadget grinned, looking down at the near empty thimble in front of her.

"I guess I did overdo it a little."

"I think you did too, but seeing as how you're just a little way off from delivery, I guess we can overlook it."

Tammy put several beans into the grinder that Gadget had built, and poured the resulting powder into an equally handcrafted percolator.

"You know, Gadge, it's a good thing you're so mechanically inclined, or we'd be in a bad way for appliances."

"Thanks, but I'd really like to be helpful some way other than that right now."

Tammy left the coffee to percolate, and put her hand on Gadget's shoulder.

"I know. But what you have to concentrate on the most right now is taking care of this new Ranger!" she said, patting her friend's rounded midsection playfully.

"You always could make me feel better," Gadget giggled. "As soon as you got over being jealous, that is."
"Who, me?" Tammy quipped, a twinkle in her mischievous eyes. She had to laugh at Gadget's mock-reproachful expression.

"I think I'll just let that one drop," she said, taking the now full carafe in hand, and making for the door.

"Tammy?"
"Yeah, Gadge?"

"Thanks."
"No problem, girlfriend. You know I'm always here to help out."

Leaving the young mouse to her vigil, Tammy padded back upstairs, carrying her steaming burden carefully. The sight of the liquid was enough to bring bright smiles to the faces of the two inventors in the Rangers' workshop.

"Took you long enough," Sprocket commented, holding up his thimble to be filled.

"Well, I had to play psychoanalyst for your momma, so don't complain. She's more worried about all of this than we are."

"Then let's ease her worries, and engineer up a storm," Sparky said, raising his mug in salute. Breathing in the steam and vapors, Tammy and Sprocket lifted their cups in agreement, and the trio set back to work with renewed vigor.

The following morning found the three exhausted Rangers slumped at their places, fast asleep, while the team's vehicles bristled with new weaponry. Sprocket had even harvested a cutting laser from the wreckage of the R-IV, giving the Rangerwing the ability to surgically make an exit from a sticky situation, if need be. Around seven o'clock, Gadget peered into the workshop, and shook her head at the scene. Chip joined her, linking his arm through hers.

"Like a bunch of kids after a slumber party," he chuckled.

"Let them sleep," she chided. "They look like they put in a long night of it."

Looking at the dark-stained tumblers that sat all over the room, she frowned.

"Looks like they went through all of my best supply, too."
"You and your coffee!" Chip laughed, guiding her away from the door. "Besides," he continued, "I doubt they found your 'emergency-emergency supply'."

By ten, the tree was buzzing with activity, feet pounding the floors as the team prepared to meet the man who was quite possibly their most dangerous enemy. Shortly before noon, Nimnul once again hijacked the airwaves, sending a message to the city's leaders.

"So, it appears you've decided to acquiesce to my demands! I've observed the transports approaching my lab. I haven't seen that certain group that I mentioned, however. You don't have long left, haha!"

"Well, he's thrown us the final gauntlet," Chip remarked, staring at the fading television monitor.

"Then let us answer him!" Reguba roared, his warrior blood rising for battle.

Chip slung a plunger harpoon over his shoulder, and leaned over to kiss Gadget.

"We'll be back for dinner," he said with a bright smile. She chuckled.

"Good, I know to send for takeout then."
Sprocket stuck his head in from the hangar, his coveralls smeared with oil.

"I've done preflight checks on the Eagle and the 'Wing. The Rangerwing has the weather-changer loaded, and everything we'll need to get it going. We're as ready as we'll ever be, Dad."

Monterey Jack smacked a fist into his open palm.

"Well oi'm ready to get crackin'! Crackin' heads, that is!"
Tammy shook her head.

"Don't get too cocky, Monty. We've got no idea what we're walking into. Let's just pray we're successful."

All the heads in the room nodded in agreement.

"All right, Rangers," Chip said in an authoritative voice, "let's move out. Rescue Rangers, away!"

HQ emptied in a flash, the illustrious crimefighters piling into their planes and the Rangerbolt, off to save their home and the world once again.

Gadget gazed out the window wistfully, sighing as the two prop-driven transports screamed away. Behind her, Martha Hazelnut and Foxglove, who had come to stay with the crestfallen inventor, settled in for the long wait.

"They'll be fine, Gadget," Foxglove reassured. "They always are."
"I know, Foxy. I just feel like I should be with them."
"You are, my girl," Martha smiled. "You're always in their hearts. Even though you're sitting here waiting for the baby, you're still riding into action with the home team."

Gadget brightened a bit, her expression turning hopeful.

"You know, you're right. And besides, there's still things I can do from here! I can even keep in contact with the new long-range comm unit I built into the planes a few weeks ago. At least I'll know what's going down."

She got up, intending to head upstairs where her radio's base unit was located, but quickly sat back down, a hand pressed to her side and an odd look on her face.

"Gadget? What's wrong?" Martha asked.

"N-nothing, just a weird feeling, that's all. I just…don't feel so good, for some reason."

"Uh-oh," Foxglove said, fluttering her wings nervously.

Gadget shot a look back at her.

"Please don't use that phrase right now, Foxy."
"Well sorry, it's just that my echo-location was picking up some strange vibrations from you."

"That's it," Martha declared, taking her young charge by the arm. "It's into bed with you, young lady."
"But…"
"No buts, Gadget! If something happens, I want you in the first place the doctor would send you."
"But Martha…"
"March!"
Obeying the command, but not really wanting to, Gadget went down the hall to she and Chip's bedroom, holding to the wall for support. Truth be told, she'd felt a little strange ever since waking up. Maybe Sprocket was right, and the baby would come early. As she sat down on the bed and lay back, Gadget closed her eyes, and made a silent prayer.

"Please let Chip come back safe."

"Nimnul's laboratory, dead ahead," Chip called over the radio. "Everybody remember what you're supposed to do?"
"Roger wilbury," Sprocket responded, using a phrase he'd heard Gadget say long ago. Chip grinned, the familiar sound reassuring him.

"Well, with a Hackwrench on the team, what could go wrong?" he asked Monty, who was sitting beside him at the Rangerwing's auxiliary controls.

Monterey Jack, thinking back over past missions, decided not to comment.

On the ground, Sprocket and Sparky sped toward the evil scientist's home, the Rangerbolt's throttle opened to full. The engine's eight cylinders rumbled in perfect time, propelling them along the gutter they had taken at nearly forty miles per hour. For a human, this might not seem like much, but for a small animal craft, it was a raging blast of speed.

"I gotta remember to thank Mom for building the Rangerbolt II when I get home!" he laughed, careening the car around a corner. Sparky merely nodded, trying to hold on and keep his lunch at the same time. He was now positive that Sprocket had learned not only his trade, but also his driving skills from Gadget.

Nimnul's lab, housed in a huge globe-like structure, loomed in the distance. It had always produced a sense of foreboding for the Rangers, but now more than ever. The dome had ice hanging from every exposed surface, and a small trail of cold steam inched upward from the large opening in the roof, where Nimnul's devious invention protruded.

"Croikey," Monty muttered from his seat, giving Chip a sideways glance. "Oi've 'eard of bringin' out the big guns, but this is blinkin' ridiculous!"

"You'll get no argument outta me," Chip replied, shaking his head. "Let's land and get this over with. There's not a second to lose."

With hoverprops whirring, the Rangerwing and the Eagle landed smoothly, with the Rangerbolt screeching to a stop beside them moments later. Being extremely careful of the sensitive equipment, Sparky and Sprocket offloaded the weather-changer to the car, and began to climb back in, to look for an opening. Chip reached out, stopping the young boy for a second.

"Sprocket?"
"Yeah, Dad?"
"Be careful, son. Your mother'd never forgive me if I let something happen to you. Even though she doesn't know you that well in this time…she loves you. I can see that. Don't do anything foolish."

"You can count on me. Rescue Rangers away, and all that!"

The Ranger-sized human jumped into the driver's seat, and sped away toward the side of the dome. Chip had every confidence that he would accomplish his mission.

Now, the rest of the Rangers had to accomplish theirs. In a word, keep the Nimnuls busy long enough for their two intrepid infiltrators to throw the proverbial monkey wrench into things.

On a camera inside the dome, the Rangers' landing did not go unobserved. The future Professor Nimnul rubbed his hands together in anticipation, watching as the two small planes were unloaded. However, in a rare moment of oversight, he did not observe the departure of the Rangerbolt moments later. For the moment, Sprocket and Sparky's task was in no immediate danger. Nimnul turned to his counterpart from the present, a diabolic, evil grin on his face.

"So, Norton. It would seem you guessed the full extent of my plan."
"Mmmph!" the present professor tried to yell, prevented by the gag that wound around his face. He had been bound hand and foot, and tied to a chair, able only to watch as his future self played out a scheme even he found reprehensible.

"Once those little Rangers are out of the way, I'll use your invention to freeze the entire world! I will possess the only sources of heating available. The planet's populace will pay me billions to keep from freezing to death!"

The present Nimnul looked on, thoughtfully.

I get really ambitious in the future, it looks like.

The other scientist paid no heed to his younger self's apparent musing. He merely watched in happiness as the Rescue Rangers dashed up the main hallway of his laboratory.

"Now, for a little…rat poison," he snickered, flipping a switch.

Chip glanced around the walls, having an eerie feeling of déjà vu. What was the expression Gadget had used on the Redwall mission…someone walking over your grave? He shook his head, clearing the ominous thoughts away.

"Okay, gang, we've got to give Sprocket and Sparks enough time to…"
VEEEPPP-VEEEPPP-VEEEPPP

"Uh-oh," Dale gulped, as the alarm sounded throughout the hallways.

All around the Rangers, small doors in the walls slid silently open. From within, slitted eyes glowed dangerously from the darkness. They reminded Chip of Nimnul's robotic dogs from their first case against him, but…

"B-blimey," Monty stammered, "robot CATS!"

With wide rows of teeth gleaming and giving off choruses of electronic yowls, the metal monsters advanced on the small crew, looking like enormous harbingers of death and destruction. Chip gave the obvious instruction at the top of his lungs.

"Run!"

The tiny do-gooders scattered and scrambled for cover. Tammy and Chip climbed one of the walls, looking for shelter behind some of the protruding switches and equipment.

It hadn't occurred to them that even metal cats could climb. The howling mechanical beasts sank their razor-sharp claws into the wall, coming up after the two terrified Rangers. From across the way, Monty and Dale weren't in much better shape. Reguba was clinging to a low hanging cable, a cat pawing at him inches away from his large, brushy tail. The cat's claws nipped him just slightly, eliciting a yelp from the victim.

"I say there, chap, bad form, wot!" he yelled, slipping into the Redwall hare dialect he'd grown up with. As his adversary continued to attack, the natural instinct that had been bred into the warrior squirrel took over, and he snapped. Jerking a fighting staff from it's holster on his back, he raised it into position and took a flying leap off the cable, and onto the robot cat's back, yelling his ancestral battle cry.
"Redwaaallllllll!"

The metal predator was caught completely off guard. It's processors hadn't been programmed to deal with berserker squirrels. Reguba lit into Nimnul's creation with a vengeance, slamming blows around the back of it's head and into it's ears. Had the staff been made of wood, it would have splintered instantly. But Gadget had built this particular weapon for him, forging it from shavings of stainless steel. Sparks flew as Reguba smashed panels and chips, and severed wiring.

From their perch above, Chip and Tammy watched in fascination, while trying to keep their own fur intact. Their own cat was inching closer and closer to them, it's claws extending to what seemed like spear length to them. Tammy was ordinarily a cool head under action, but her fear got the better of her, and she gave in to her natural predisposition to run.

"Tammy!" Chip yelled as she scampered further up the wall. He saw the switch in her path, but was too late to shout a warning. As her foot hit the small control, high voltage electricity shot through Tammy, lighting up her body like a Fourth of July display. Below, her scream caught Reguba's ears, and he looked up.

"TAM!" he yelled in rage. The remainder of his self-discipline evaporated, and he made a mad dive toward the spot where he calculated she would fall. He skidded to a stop in time for his girlfriend to fall into his arms, her fur singed and smoking slightly. She was alive, but she was hurt. Reguba leaned over her still form, his eyes taking on an almost unearthly glint. Both Chip and Monterey Jack knew what was coming. Reguba was being consumed by a battle madness both of them had seen before. Monty had called it a stark cold, killing rage. The badgers of Redwall called it bloodwrath.

Standing in front of Tammy, Reguba held out his staff in one hand, and made a beckoning gesture with the other.

"Come, fell beasts! Come, and meet your doom at the hands of Reguba, son of Reguba, warrior of the squirrelclan of Essex!"

The cats, seemingly impressed by this display, moved in. Reguba tore into them like a whirling dervish, his staff flashing in an arc of silver light, ripping circuitry and hull-metal wherever it struck, driven by his incredible strength. Looking on from his own escape, Monty's ingrained punchiness took over.

"Strike me starkers, oi've got ta get inta that!"

Jumping into the fray, Monty grabbed a piece of debris that had clattered from one of the cats, and started swinging. Chip and Dale looked across at each other, and shrugged. Finding weapons of their own, they dove into the fray.

"Pistachio!"

In other parts of the lab, Sprocket and Sparky had so far managed to proceed undetected. The circuitry and coolant needed for Nimnul's cold gun was run all over the building, and finding a critical juncture in the system had been no easy task. Sprocket had been disturbed by the news of the fight, which Zipper came winging to them carrying.

"Well, it sounds like they're holding their own," Sparky commented. "Let's get this set up, and then we can go and help."

"Agreed."

The two inventors began unloading packages of equipment from the Rangerbolt, and started to carefully integrate the pieces into Nimnul's existing machinery. As Sprocket connected power to the weather-changer's main board, an alarm sounded.

"So much for our cover," he groaned. "Better work fast."

"Aye-aye, captain."

They worked at their top speed, making connections, soldering wires and circuits, and connecting the parts needed.

"Just a few more minutes, that's all we need," Sparky said in triumph.

A rumble sounded throughout the access shaft.

"Then again…"
Around the bend came two more of Nimnul's mechanical marvels, their claws tearing up the floor as they bounded toward the two Rangers.

"Work fast, Uncle Sparky!" Sprocket yelled. He grabbed a wrench, and was preparing to strike, when a metallic blur raced past him. The newcomer plowed into the mechanical cats, throwing them to and fro like newspaper. The fight didn't last very long, the robots collapsing into heaps of powerless junk. A slight chuckle could be heard in the near darkness, and it had a distinctly…electronic tinge to it.

"Tom!" Sparky exclaimed as he got a better look at their rescuer. "Where did you come from?"

"Well, I happened to be in the neighborhood," the Rangers' resident robot friend replied. "And Gadget sent a signal to my onboard computer, saying you might need some help. She called it a 'contingency plan'."

"That's my mom," Sprocket laughed. Tom didn't comment, having been briefed by Gadget on the whole situation. He did, however, show the younger Hackwrench a bit of concern.

"You'd better hurry up, kid. Your mom's going to be calling on the doctor soon, I think."

The news galvanized the mechanic duo into action.

"Hand me that last handful of pieces, Uncle Sparky, so we can go help out the others!"
"Others?" Tom asked. "Are they in trouble?"

Sprocket pointed up to a security monitor.

"You might say that."
Tom's internal servos whined as he pounced away down the corridor, his eyes lighting up like headlamps in the dark as he headed for the other Rangers.

After a couple of minutes, Sparky connected the last piece of machinery to the power conduit, and soldered it into place.

"There. When Nimnul flips that switch, his cold beam is going about as far as the spaceplane with a quart of fuel."

"Good. Come on, I have a feeling the professor is going to make a little visit when he sees how badly his robots are faring."

Upstairs, the robot cats had indeed fared badly. Reguba had accounted for three of them on his own, and was sitting at Tammy's side, bleeding and bruised, but otherwise unaffected. Monterey Jack and the chipmunks had done in another two cats, and Tom had arrived in time to take on two more which had threatened the nearly exhausted group. Sparky and Sprocket trotted up, tools in hand, just late enough to miss the last of the action. Looking around at the smoking wreckage of the robots, the Rangers began slapping each other on the back and passing around congratulations.

"Jolly good dust-up, mates!" Monty said. "Now, we've got ta find Nimnul!"
"But you already have, my good mouse."

All eyes turned in dread to the small human form in the doorway, small but also a giant to them. Grinning like one of the Siamese Twins, the mad professor tossed his remote control up and down in his hand.
"So, you got past my cats, eh? Well then, once I start the big freeze, I'll take care of you personally. Maybe I'll break out the ol' Gigantico gun and shrink you all to the size of germs!"

Reguba shielded Tammy, who had woken slightly, behind him, raising his staff in readiness. Beside him, Sprocket went into a defensive posture. Nimnul laughed.

"So, you two are ready to take on the big bad human, huh? Little good it'd do you. I'd squash you like bugs!"
"Then bring it, if you have the courage!" Reguba stormed.

"What he said," Sprocket added. "I owe you, Nimnul."

"Owe me? For what, I wonder. I…"
Recognition dawned in the silver-haired villain's mind.

"It couldn't be. No…not my little science experiment! Well, you must have found your way in with these Rescue Rodents! This was something I hadn't counted on, especially how you might find your way back here!"

"You killed my family, you rabid garbage. Do you think I'd let that pass without an effort to the contrary?"

"How touching. But once I flip the switch on this remote, it's curtains for the rest of you vermin, and this city!"
With his thumb, Nimnul depressed the control that would enable the ice cannon to fire. Sprocket gave the thumbs up to Sparky.

"Now!"
The mouse scientist slapped a hand to his own remote, clipped inside his labcoat.

Deep inside the laboratory dome, sparks flew as the cold system began to short out. The weather-changing field slowly formed around the building, and as the cold laser let go with it's freezing blast, the bright ray stalled only yards from the barrel, and was forced back upon itself. The protruding gun exploded, showering the upper lab with debris and burning wreckage.

"No!" Nimnul bellowed. "You've ruined everything! Again!"

Running from the group of crimefighters, he threaded his way into the main lab, which was quickly disintegrating into chaos as the computers and equipment shorted and broke down. The present day professor had managed to free himself, and ran screaming through his secret escape passage…straight into the hands of Kirby and Muldoon, who had been hiding in the trucks that had brought the gold.

"Nice day, ain't it, Professor?"
"Yeah, just beautyful," Muldoon snickered, slapping cuffs on the prisoner.

Inside, the future Nimnul had leaped onto his time machine, trying desperately to activate the complex controls. At the very second that he might have escaped, an explosion caught his ears. Looking up, he screamed and jumped away as a piece of debris from the ceiling crashed down, wrecking the machine. With its protective fields breached, the device's temporal energies were released in a blast, ripping what Gadget would later term a 'temporary hole in time'. Seeing with much happiness that the portal appeared to lead back to it's time of origin, namely September 2010, Nimnul leaped through it. As the Rangers arrived in the lab, he shook his fist back at them triumphantly.

"Ha! I've escaped again, vermin! No one gets the last laugh, on Norton Nimnul!"

"Except us, huh Professor?"
Looking around him wildly, Nimnul slumped as he was caught on either side by two policewomen. One, a redheaded Caucasian, smiled at her partner.

"Seems like this was an easy collar, doesn't it, Kirby?"

"Yeah, Muldoon. Wait'll I tell Dad about it, he never got his hands on Nimnul this way!"

As they police led the future Nimnul toward a waiting van, Chip put his hand on Sprocket's shoulder.

"Well, I guess it's time you got going, son. Everything's safe on both ends of your timeframe."
The boy looked confused, and then it dawned on him. With the R-IV wrecked, this was the only way home for him.
"I still don't know if it worked," he said softly. "I still don't know…"
"Sprocket."
A soft voice, muffled by the twisting energies, spoke from the other side of the temporal field. As he looked back, tears streaked down the younger Ranger's face.
"Momma?"

Chip was stunned. On the portal's other side, an all too familiar face smiled back at them.
"Gadget?" he said in disbelief.

"Hello, Chip. I hope you took good care of our son."
He grinned.
"Well, it was touch and go, but we got through it," he said, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately.

"I knew you would. Just like I knew he'd save us. Golly, he's a Rescue Ranger, after all."

Chip had to smile at that.

"The years have been good to you, love."

She blushed slightly.
"You always did know just what to say, you gallant rogue, you."

"How will Sprocket's technology get home?"
"The temporal sequencer in the R-IV has a homing signal. Once I activate it, the energy will transport all of it back to it's point of origin here. None of you will remember this by then, naturally."

Chip looked at his son a bit wistfully.
"Naturally."

He nudged Sprocket gently.

"Go on, boy. She's waiting for you."

The future Gadget held out her hand, just grazing the temporal field.
"It's all right, son. We're here. Come home."

Then, she added with a smile,

"Rebecca's waiting."

Turning slightly red, Sprocket looked back at his family.

"Well guys, it's been real. See you all in the future."

Amid a chorus of good-byes and well wishes, Sprocket stepped through the field, and into his mother's arms. He buried his head against her shoulder, crying like a newborn child.

"I missed you so much, Mom."

Tears began to leak down Gadget's face as well, as she cradled him against her.
"I know. I know."
She raised his face toward her.
"My brave baby boy. I'm so proud of you."

As the portal began to flicker and close, the two walked away, to where the future Rangers were standing assembled. Familiar faces presented themselves to the present Rangers, as well as some new ones. There were Tammy and Reguba's brave ones, standing tall with their parents. Basil and Mariel welcomed Sprocket back with hugs and slaps on the back, laughing and crying at the same time. Sparky stood there with a mouse that his present self didn't recognize, but he knew she was beautiful. Dale and Foxglove, along with a band of obstreperous chipmunks and bats, offered smiles and congratulations. Monterey Jack grabbed his nephew up in a bear hug, and a familiar face shone with happiness beside him.

"Desiree?" the present Monty said in disbelief. "Maybe time does heal all wounds."

All of the Rangers in 2010 raised their hands in parting, and the field collapsed with an audible pop, leaving the present crimefighters standing in the burning lab, bewildered.

"What happened?" Chip asked, confused.

"I dunno," Dale said. "We beat Nimnul again, I guess. Looks like we messed his plans up pretty good!"

"Oi'll say," Monty griped. "And oi've got the bruises t'prove it!"

"Well, whatever happened, the Rescue Rangers came out on top," Chip said. He straightened his fedora, zipped his flight jacket, and pointed to the hallway.

"Come on, gang. Let's go home. We've got a baby to get ready for!"