When Planet Fuse suddenly appeared over the Townsville skyline three years ago, no one really knew what to make of their big green new neighbor. It wasn't the prettiest thing to look at during daylight hours, but the green light it put off every night had an almost warm, welcoming glow to it. It didn't help that it showed up Christmas Eve, either. Kids just thought Santa Claus had traded in his red sleigh for a shiny green bowling ball. The planet didn't appear hostile, at least not in the beginning. Most adults trusted their local weather forecasters, who insisted the puke-colored mass was just an abnormally large comet slowly working its way around Earth's orbit. When those same adults looked up at the sky a few days later to greet the New Year, only to find the moon gone and one of Planet Fuse's ugly, gangrenous satellites sitting in its place, they grew curious. Then came the meteors. And shortly after the meteors, the first wave of alien hostiles.
It was hard to tell which fell to Earth faster; the meteorites or the pandemonium they brought with them.
In an effort to combat the alien menace and concoct an appropriate counter-offensive, several organizations sprung up, seemingly overnight. Most were small-time, minute-men style militias. A few won government funding. Most didn't. A handful scooped up some very talented individuals eager to ply their trades and contribute to the forthcoming battles. Not long after the dust settled and these organizations started gathering more and more support, mysterious invitations started arriving in their mail-boxes and emails.
To save our futures and protect our present, we are assembling our world's brightest minds. Your talents and ambitious endeavors have captured our attention, and we would welcome the opportunity to invite you into our little think tank. Won't you join us? We'll throw in a free thinking cap if you do.
Kind regards,
The Brain Trust
Founded by the global technology conglomerate Dex Labs Inc. and headquartered in a secret laboratory overlooking Townsville's blackened skyline, the Brain Trust quickly jumped to the pole position in the race against Planet Fuse. This was only natural, of course, because the Trust only hired out the world's best and the brightest. Recently, however, in an attempt to pump some new blood into the stagnating Trust, they brought in some lesser known contributors. The maverick thinkers behind this initiative put their careers on the line to make this kind of radical experimentation possible, and so far, their willingness to invest in up-and-coming young geniuses was paying off. Since flushing some older Trust members out and bringing in a few new ones, the organization was closer than ever to achieving their ultimate goal; launching a long-term counter-offensive against their not-so-nice alien neighbors.
However, as history has proven countless times before, it is only when you are on the cusp of achieving something great that you are able to sniff out the troublemakers hiding in your midst. Miles above Townsville Square, tucked behind a nightmarish cage of vaulted doors and cutting-edge technological enterprises, trouble was brewing.
"I told you we shouldn't have let him go into the lab all alone! It's gonna take all night to figure out what he's done. This is his way of delaying the launch, I just know it! He just doesn't want to say good-bye to that walking disability he calls a best friend!" Mandark beat his fists against the table, spilling his coffee and staining his polka-dot bowtie a toxic shade of brown. The ensuing hissing reminded Blossom an awful lot of a very angry, very ugly snake.
"Mandark, hush! We don't even know if he did anything yet! He could have just been running regular maintenance. You know how much of a worrywart he is. He probably just went to tighten some screws." She stared holes in the back of her colleague's chair. Mandark kicked his long legs against the floor. His chair spun on its axis. He was determined not to meet her piercing gaze. Blossom crossed her arms in frustration and turned to the tiny man toiling behind her. "What do you think, Dexter? Double D meant well, didn't he?" Dexter didn't answer. He was too busy pacing circles around a particularly gorgeous looking armor set, suspending from the ceiling by a thick, marble crucifix. Wicked looking runes and long, complex equations were carved into its bolts and every time Dexter investigated them with his fingers, they seemed to glow an angry red color. The set's components were bound tight against their monochrome pedestals by a whirring slurry of wires, screws, and snow-white bandages. The chest plate boasted broad, ivory plated shoulder pads and its velvet leggings and alabaster shoes swept gently from side to side as he passed. Each piece was inlaid with blinking lights and sleek censors; all tinted red and tempered to glisten just like gemstones. Dexter took the ruby-red gauntlets in his hands and plied his palms against their pearlescent fingers. The joints creaked before snapping stiffly back into place. Dexter nibbled the notches of his favorite wrench and licked his lips.
"Non…non, he's definitely done zumzing," he wagered, weighing the gauntlets in his hands. "Zese pieces…zey definitely feel different from before." He shrugged his shoulders and returned the gauntlets to their pedestals. He punched a few digits into his wristwatch. The crucifix rose soundlessly into the ceiling and disappeared into a rolling sea of brilliantly colored wires. A few floors above them, something very big and very heavy slammed shut. A great racket, like steam being flushed from a piping hot train engine, echoed throughout the laboratory. And then, just as Dexter returned to his seat, all was still. He pressed his thumbs against his eyes and massaged his temples. "I just can't deduze what exactly it iz he'z done…"
"Maybe he was adjusting the fit," Blossom suggested, pressing her own thumbs together. "Ed's a pretty big guy. He'll probably grow a whole lot in stasis. Double D probably just didn't want his friend to be cramped. He's not gonna have much space in that tiny satellite as it is." Behind her, she heard Mardark stomp his feet loudly against the linoleum floor. His spinning chair came to a screeching halt. Two thick, black skid marks stained the tiles beneath his spindly legs.
"Well, I for one think he's up to no good! He's been working his own, weird little angles ever since he started coming to our meetings." Dexter's eyes flickered.
"You ackchually believe Edd would do zumzing to jeopardize ze launch?"
"No…" Mandark replied hastily, rubbing his hands together. "I don't think he'd try and sabotage it…he's a loyalist…that I'm sure of." Mandark closed his eyes and crossed his arms and pondered a deep, meaningful ponder. "But I do think he's got a hidden agenda somewhere. And don't either of you tell me I'm crazy for suspecting he's got skeletons in his closet."
Dexter suddenly became aware of just how filthy his glasses were. Blossom was paying an undue amount of attention to the lights dangling from the laboratory ceiling. Though neither would admit it out loud, Mandark had a point. When the Brain Trust was founded in the months following the first appearances of Planet Fuse, Double D was not among those chosen to formulate a strategy to counter the impending alien menace. This was, of course, only because he'd adamantly refused each and every offer they made him. He only joined the Brain Trust after Ed was drafted into the military three years ago. Before then, even a personal invitation from Dexter himself hadn't been enough to coax Edd into letting the other members of the Trust give him as much as a tour of their facilities. Each time he turned them down, instead politely encouraging them to consider other "more qualified" advisors. And even after joining their ranks, he'd kept his distance, only showing up to either work in the lab or talk strategy with Dexter in private. He hadn't been rude or disrespectful, but he'd been aloof, and when you are part of a council that exists to save the world, aloofness isn't always a welcome character trait. Had his few contributions not been so utterly game-changing, he'd probably been voted out a long time ago.
"Absentee or not, you can't deny he's more than earned his keep," Blossom said, trying her hardest to guide Mandark's attitude back towards something resembling agreeable. "Half of the deadliest armor and weapons sets chilling in storage right now only exist because of his insights." Blossom blushed and massaged her cheeks with both hands. "I can crunch numbers faster than anyone here, but when it comes to designing weird, over-the-top protection measures, you can't deny the boy's crazy smart." She laid her head on the cold table and closed her eyes. She was in dire need of a nap.
"He's worried. About what may happen after the chosen militants return to Earth." Dexter dropped his wrench. Blossom stifled a surprised hiccup and lifted her head. Mandark scowled. In the very back of the lab, perched atop a cache of discarded scrap metal, stood a tall, muscular man dressed in an immaculate white kimono. An oriental style teacup was pinched between his calloused fingers. His katana hung from his sash, sleeping soundly in its sheath, its keen edge hidden from the world. He placed his cup against a pyramid of loose screws and knit his fingers together. He bowed his head. As he did, his oily topknot bounced to and fro."Edd is a valuable ally because he sees the future and has the courage to try and change his worst case scenario." Whether he realized it or not, Jack had a strange way of perking people up. His three juniors stood at attention, eager to hear what wisdom the samurai had to share with them today. When the Brain Trust was formed, Samurai Jack had been a shoe-in from the very start. Jack wasn't book smart, but his experience on the field of battle combined with his stoic, thoughtful disposition made him an invaluable military asset. He was the closest thing the Trust had to the perfect storm; Jack had the brains, the brawn, and maybe even a little something extra.
"Ah…Jack…I almost forgot you were sleeping back zere." Dexter sounded a little relieved. He clicked another button on his wrist watch. A dozen robots rocketed into the room, trays of food and drink teetering from their metal arms. "Please, eat zumfing, vill you? I understand meditation iz important to you, but I azure you, once you get into space, you'll miss the flavors and warmth of a home cooked meal." Jack smiled and pinched a few crackers from the closest robot.
"You are very kind, Dexter. Do not worry. I plan on enjoying myself quite a bit before my long sleep." Mandark wheeled himself over to Jack and helped himself to what was left of Jack's crackers. He rested his arms against Jack's scrap-metal throne and shot him a series of devious glares. While Mandark did hold a tremendous amount of respect for Jack, he wasn't above teasing him. Mandark wasn't above teasing anyone.
"Don't you leave us hanging, Jack. What exactly did you mean by that last statement?" Jack stared at Mandark and chewed his crackers in a slow, perplexed manner.
"I'm…sorry?"
Mandark rose from his chair and poked Jack's chipmunk cheeks gently with his gloved fingers. "That thing you said about Edd changing his worst case scenario. What's he think going to happen when you militants get back on Earth that's got him so scared?" Jack flicked his wrists, making Mandark jump to the side and shut his eyes in surprise. When he opened them, the crackers he stole from Jack were back in Jack's cupped palms. Jack chewed through his prizes very slowly, almost succeeding into tricking Mandark into believing he didn't hear him. It wasn't until after he drained the last drop of tea from his cup that he spoke.
"What do you all predict will happen…when we return to Earth?" Dexter, Blossom, and Mandark all looked at Jack with equally confused expressions.
"After zey return to Earth…vell…best case scenario, you all return to Earth and use the technology stored inside your zatellite to eliminate the few fusions we haven't already neutralized." Blossom and Mandark nodded in agreement, Blossom eagerly, Mandark begrudgingly. Jack busied himself preparing a second cup of tea.
"And how do you expect our worst-case scenario would carry out?" Silence from the peanut gallery. The Earth's worst case scenario was something they had all considered, of course. They needed to know what it was so they could plan around it. In fact, it was something they had discussed at length just today. But they didn't like talking about it unless work demanded that they do. Discussing it outside of their private meetings was taboo. Jack bowed his head and sipped his tea. "If you think our worst-case scenario is our militants returning to an empty planet, I would politely disagree with your assessment." Mandark's upper lipped curled, but he seemed to understand where Jack's argument was going. Jack continued to sip his tea. Its exotic perfume was spilling out into the lab now, making them feel both at ease and jittery at the same time. "I believe our truly worst-case scenario would be one where our militants return to a fight that is not yet won…and then, in the scramble to secure the resources necessary to protect their loved ones, we amongst ourselves." Blossom nervously adjusted her skirt. She couldn't look Jack in the eyes anymore.
"Do you think that would actually happen, Jack?" Jack gave a slow, reverent nod.
"I'm sure it is no secret there are factions of our own that would stand to gain much if they were to…inherit the technology locked inside the satellites, yes?"
"But ve've pledged an oath," Dexter insisted, clenching his fists. "Haven't ve all agreed to put azide our own zelfish interests so everyone going up has a planet vorth coming back to?" For the first time since the conversation began, Dexter and Mandark locked eyes. They nodded at one another in rare display of mutual respect. Jack acknowledged them both with a curt nod, but he was not swayed.
"A promise made during times of peace rarely holds water when the drums of war start to sound, Dexter." Dexter bowed his head this time, seemingly preparing himself to accept Jack's insights as truths. "Edd seems to understand this. The few words I have shared with him in private have me convinced." Jack placed his empty cup between his sandals and began to stretch his legs butterfly style. "So, I'd imagine he has taken some precautions to make sure that if the worst happens, his friend will be equipped with the tools he needs to come out on top."
"I zuppose I cannot fault him for wanting to protect the people he cares about." Dexter's eyes drifted toward the vault behind him. Mandark's did the same. "Perhaps I should conzider taking your whizdom to heart, Jack." Jack shrugged his shoulders and dismounted his pile of spire of scrap. He adjusted his robes and stretched his stiff neck. His wooden sandals clicked ominously against the floor as he moved towards the laboratory's exit.
"If I might share one more piece advice with you three, I think it would be this; treat the young man who will be wearing that armor with equal parts care and caution. I trust Edd has all of our best interests at heart, but the only time he seems to invested in his work is when it involves his friend." Dexter's eyes remained fixed on the vault behind him.
"Ah…zo, you've noticed that as vell, Jack?" Jack didn't nod, but he did smile.
"If his friend were to occupy any significant danger, I believe we can expect Edd to behave in certain…unorthodox ways. Please be sure the rest of the Trust prepares for that." The door to the lab clicked open, and after a low bow, Jack disappeared behind a swirling torrent of vaulted doors, leaving his colleagues alone with their thoughts. Blossom looked to Dexter, apprehension clouding her amber eyes.
"When you examined that armor earlier…the armor that Edd built…you said you noticed something was different about it than before?" Blossom took a step forward and stooped down to place one hand on Dexter's diminutive shoulder. "What was it?" Dexter frowned started scrubbing his glasses furiously with the lapels of his lab coat.
"Zey felt…so much heavier zan zey did before…"
All three young geniuses turned their eyes to the ceiling vault where Edd's custom armor was locked away. The lights blinked off and on indiscriminately, but apart from the occasional loose spark and settling of the metal, all was quiet. Regardless, since Jack's departure, an air of unease had settled over the laboratory. Somewhere, tucked behind the cluster of wires and gears and blinking lights, they couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them.
"It felt…heavy." Blossom swallowed hard. "Heavy like…heavy like a stone?" Dexter shook his head.
"Non," he said quietly. "Heavy like…like a loaded gun."