-Vital Intelligence-

K needed to change the timeline; she needed to speed it up.

There was no way that the Director's visit was a coincidence, and even if it was, K had received the message loud and clear. They were watching her, and that meant she needed to be even more careful. Her window to act was shrinking.

The diversion was simple enough. Once Venjix was released, havoc would almost instantly release upon the base. Everyone on-site would be far too preoccupied with the mess made by her creation to give any immediate thought to K. But she needed to have her firewall primed, and ready for installation, otherwise the virus would run rampant across far more than just the compound. One loose seam and it could seep out to affect the entire world.

That part, in a sense, was also easy. K could complete it at her desk, under the watchful eye of captors, knowing full well they'd remain ignorant of her intentions. It was the remaining stages that were proving to be more difficult.

The Soup was a maze designed to protect against assault and infiltration, but it was also, she had now realized, to keep others in. Her memory was near perfect, but until now K had seen no need to explore her confines. Her dwellings were adequate, and in believing the outside dangerous, any inside hall she wandered was the same as the others.

The only exit K knew for certain was the same one that had exposed her to the sun, but it was too far away to reach within the window she'd have. She needed one closer; within a distance that she could sprint when the chaos began. But finding it would take time that she didn't have. K's plan, at first, had been to move about her immediate surroundings, construct her mental map, and plot the most efficient route to an exit. But that was no longer an option. If their eyes were fixed upon her, her solutions would have to be far more creative.

Her terminal!

The blueprints to the base were in the system, and even if they were locked by some level of security screening, bypassing them would be child's play. One glance and K would have an instant recollection of every door, window, and air vent across the entire complex. She would know it better than the people who built it. K jumped into her chair, booting up the system as she clicked into the server and prepared to gain access. Every file that K had ever made or interacted with ran through the central database, giving her a perfect pathway to every single computer, hard drive, and file linked to it.

All too easy.

…Far too easy.

Just as the cursor moved over the location, eager to poke a hole that K could tear into a pathway, she stopped, catching her eager arrogance from dooming any chance she had. In all likelihood, the Soup would be monitoring every keystroke she made. And while K's coding would forever remain a mystery to them, they would definitely infer the meaning behind accessing intel on the base's construction. She may as well light up a smoke signal and dance around waving red flags.

They'd know exactly what she was up to in an instant.

Any move K made at all, and they'd see right through her.

Their eyes were everywhere, looming like unwanted specters, globes in the dark that pried into every inch of K's work to examine her every move. K was smart; they were goldfish compared to her! But their system for containing and controlling her brilliance was perfect.

It had contained her for years, a single lie had kept her docile and complacent while stripping her of all dignity and privacy. Did she really expect that they never assumed she'd find out? To not have some security in place should K ever develop the desire for defiance? K had been assuming she was miles ahead, that her chess was in three dimensions while they were struggling with two. But they were the ones who had set the board, who had wielded all the pieces to their advantage and given her no room to move. They were the ones playing chess, while K was stuck playing checkers. They were united, working toward the single goal of containing K's genius and abusing it to their benefit.

Whereas K was trapped and alone.

Or was she…?

On the surface, it seemed so simple. They certainly were. But as imbecilic as they were, they were also born in the Soup. Brought in for the same purpose as K. She'd watched them, time and time again as they tested the Operator Series Hardware, and although their naive innocence was trying, they nevertheless demonstrated an immense intellectual potential that bubbled beneath the surface.

They were exactly what K needed.

Smart enough to succeed in her instructions, foolish enough to not question her motives, even if she asked them to keep it a secret. They said she was their friend, after all.

And wasn't that what friends were for?

-2 Hours, 30 Minutes until Judgement Day-

The plan of action was simple, and all three agreed quickly. Coms were down, which meant a swift reunion with Wes, Dana, and Kyle was unlikely. Even if the coms were still operational, there was a good chance they were compromised, and their usage would risk drawing themselves and their separated teammates into an ambush.

For now, they were on their own.

There was no sense in going up, the climb back up the shaft was too far and any remaining Cyclobots would be combing the ruins for survivors. And that left them exploring the tunnels they'd fallen in.

"Keep your eyes sharp," Jen had ordered. "Until we find a way of learning the layout, we're wandering blind. Our priority is to get the Doctor here some network access. Maybe then we can get an idea of what's going on here."

There was another reason Benson suggested prioritizing hardline network access. With the initial plan going belly up, their clock was running down. If Benson could find a way to keep Venjix contained within the base, even temporarily, it could buy them precious time with which to find another solution. To stop the world from ending.

From there they'd moved into the tunnels, slinking around the corners and watching keenly ahead. Carter moved upfront, scouting the corners before motioning for the others to follow. For a long time, the trio moved in silence, their footsteps barely pattering soft echoes into the darkness ahead. Then at last, as Carter hurried down a long stretch to check their next passage, Jen finally broke the quiet.

"Thank you," she said softly, "for before. I needed to hear it."

Benson wasn't certain how true that was. From everything he'd read in accounts about the Time Force Rangers, along with everything that Wes had told him, Jen always stood strong and pulled through no matter how hard things got. He may have been in the right place at the right time, but she'd have gotten up without him. But even as he admitted that truth to himself, he saw Jen's gratitude for what it was- a peace offering.

At the very least, either her need for him grossly outweighed her annoyance at his presence, or Benson's words had made enough of an impact to cause Jen to rethink her stance. Either way, he had no interest in looking a gift horse in the mouth.

"It was nothing," Benson insisted. "You would have got there without me."

"Eventually," Jen admitted. "But that would have been time we didn't have. We still don't. Listen, Benson, I've made plenty of mistakes. And I wouldn't be here if I wasn't willing to admit when I was wrong. So, thank you. Even just knowing that someone else had any idea of what it's like to feel the weight of your choices fall back on them. It helped."

He supposed he hadn't thought of it like that; at the time he'd just been trying to find a point connection. This woman had journeyed through time for God's sake; she'd helped stop it from folding in on itself. It made Benon's battle for just one city feel pretty tame by comparison. But he supposed that whatever scale, stakes, or reasoning, it was the guilt that bound them together. That drove them to see it through.

Benson had never considered himself much of a speaker, and as much as he tried to help the Rangers under his care, more often than not they turned to each other for advice before him. To know that he really had made a difference, then maybe it meant he really did have value on the mission after all. But it also meant that Benson should have seen Jen's next question coming.

From his end of the tunnel, Carter gave the signal, Benson and Jen creeping swiftly to join him before the Red Rescue Ranger slunk to the next corner. Then she struck, hitting him with a query while she knew he was in a sharing mood.

"What did you mean before?" she asked him. "When I wasn't the only one to play a part in all this?"

The question stopped him dead as if a sinker had been tied to his chest and dropped into the depths. His biggest regret. Creating the Digitizer, allowing Gideon to tinker with his creation and empower himself, dragging five innocent teens into a war to fix his own mistake.

And still, none of those compared to this.

For a moment, Benson wanted to shy away, to lock it up inside and pretend it didn't exist. It was why he was there, and if they succeeded he could just pretend it would go away. As if achieving what they'd set out to do would cause it to have never happened. But it did happen, and he had let it.

As Benson looked at Jen, who now stared back at him in earnestness, not annoyance, he realized he couldn't hold it back. She'd laid out her demons, her regrets for the part she'd played. Now it was his turn to do the same, and with a heavy sigh, Benson turned to her and at last uttered the words that he had so long tried to deny.

"I could have stopped this," he said. "All of it."

At first, Jen didn't react, not so much as a flicker on her face as she absorbed what Benson was saying. And, after nodding toward Carter and leading Benson down the next passage, she turned to him, "How? How could you have possibly stopped this?"

The question that had been turning in his mind from the moment he'd received the letter. The one addressed to him, from a time well ahead, from a woman he neither knew nor had ever met. How could she have known who he was?

There were some gaps that the Rangers had been able to fill; K's Ranger Operator suits held similar technologies to his Digitizer. The device that Benson eventually created to bring Rangers from the future during his team's hour of need had brought one from K's. It was possible that by the time the device reached her time, the long way, and K had read Benson's plight for help, she had decided to send one of her own. Send it back with his Rangers, replying to a letter that Benson had yet to send.

But every explanation led back to the same answer; the more Benson followed each thread, the clearer their point of origin became.

Alphabet Soup.

The same place that had enabled him to send Kyle after the Rangers when they were propelled across time, and in turn assist them in coming home. The act would later help him build a device to summon reinforcements from the future. The place that he'd looked into, only to immediately look away.

That night, long ago during Project Digitizer, he'd relented to his curiosity and finally dared to test the network security of their neighboring Project. Benson had barely scratched the surface, and even then he'd been frightened enough to cut the connection with the few files he'd scraped. And in doing so, he'd doomed a child to captivity.

"Back at Outpost One," Jen realized, "You told me you'd broken their security before. That was back when you shared a base with them?"

Benson nodded, taunting shame tingling at his chest as mustered the strength to confess. But if this was to be his cross to bear, he'd do himself no favors in hiding it.

"She was right there," Benson admitted. "She was right under my nose, and I was too scared to see it. If I'd stayed in, even just a little longer, maybe I'd have been able to figure out what they were up to and put a stop to it."

"And done what?" Jen challenged. "Passed a memo up to your superior? What could they have done? Lodged a complaint against the top-secret organization you weren't even supposed to be hacking into? I mean come on; you know what they'd have done. These guys would have scooped you up and dragged you off to a black site and gone on with their day. And then do you want to know what would have happened?"

Benson paused, his own proposed alternate timeline flashing through his mind exactly as Jen was describing. The obvious he'd been so willing to ignore in his wallowing. The next answer was clear, but Jen didn't wait for him to voice his conclusion.

"Cranston City would be destroyed," she said flatly. "You don't make it out of Project Digitizer, then you don't give the powers to the Data Squad Rangers. And your crazed research partner goes on his rampage unopposed. Not to mention that this future that we're trying to stop is something we don't learn about at all. You've done plenty to help this girl. We wouldn't be here at all if you hadn't."

But as Jen said it, Benson couldn't bring himself to believe it. Refused to accept that somehow it had been his fear that had gotten them this far, that his propensity for staying on the sidelines while others risked life and limb to fight his battles had somehow caused the best chance for the future. Had Jen been right back there? Should he really have stayed well away?

But Jen wasn't done either. "You just told me I'm not responsible for the choices of others, no matter how connected to them I am. So let me return the favor. Stop beating yourself up for an impossible choice you could never have made. Even if I could change the past, it would only lead to more problems. The best we can do is work with the present we have and do all we can to make a brighter future."

The very words he'd likely have once told Rangers. It really was time he started taking his own advice.

"I'm sorry I was so hard on you before," Jen said. "Seems like I'm not the only one here that's trying to make up for the past."

"Seems like it's our lot in life," Benson admitted. "Trying to atone for our mistakes."

"If only it was that easy."

"Yeah," he agreed. "If only."

There was light glowing from the final corner ahead, and following their pattern, Carter slunk toward it. Pressing against the corner, he peered around before signaling, beckoning them forward but urging caution. Whatever was left of their heart-to-heart would have to wait.

Now they had company.

Jen and Benson hurried to the Rescue Ranger to gain a look for themselves. They'd found one of the server rooms. Tall and circular, with a central gantry running horizontally across a deeper pit, four server nodes stood tall at adjacent corners of the walkway. Exactly what they needed. From their vantage, it was quite a drop, but not an unachievable jump, and from there it was only a handful of Cyclobots guarding the base.

Pulling back from his reconnaissance, Carter shot a look to Jen. "What's the play?"

She paused for a moment, eyes equally flicking in assessment before deciding. "We need speed over stealth. We've got no idea how many more are crawling around down here or when they're coming. Hell, these are robots, we don't know if there'll even be a shift change. Let's hit them hard and use whatever time we gain. You good with that?"

Her final question was directed straight at Benson, catching him off guard as he scrambled for an answer. But as he too assessed the situation, he saw that Jen was right. A stealthy approach would be too slow, and no guarantee it would gain them any extra time. They were better off working with what they had.

"Make's sense," Benson agreed, before realizing something else and warning quickly. "Try to avoid morphing."

Jen raised an eyebrow. "Why?'

"Whenever a Morpher activates it creates a power fluctuation in the grid," he explained. "If someone's looking for it, they can use it to pinpoint our location. Not a problem if every bot is already rushing us, but…"

"Big problem if we're trying to hit and run, got it," Carter concluded before returning his attention to Jen. "What'd you say, boss? You take the eight on the left, I get the eight on the right?"

"Looks doable," Jen agreed. She turned to Benson, but the programmer was way ahead of her.

"Head down, out of sight," he promised. "I'll stay out of your way."

A small grin flicked to her lips before the Pink Timeranger turned and stepped to the edge of the opening. Then, with a movement so synchronous Benson would have sworn they'd rehearsed it, she and Carter dropped down to the gantry. The Cyclobots never knew what hit them.

Back in Cranston City, safely nestled in his command center and watching everything unfold on his monitors, Benson had been in awe of how his Rangers could hold their own even without the help of their Morphers. How five teenagers, only two of whom at first knew any martial arts, would routinely hold their own against Gideon's foot-soldiers with nothing but their bare hands. But now, Benson could truly appreciate the finesse and aptitude of two trained professionals as Jen and Carter descended on the Cyclobots.

Their feet hit the gantries as the two of them sprung, movements mirroring as they lunged at the unsuspecting henchmen. Carter reached his target first, arm swinging into a powerful clothesline as the Cyclobot spun just in time to get clobbered. Two came from the sides, each aiming to split his attention and leave him prone to the other.

But Carter was faster, and more than ready.

Leaping into a spinning kick, his boot cracked the singular facial lens of the first, the robot stumbling back as the Rescue Ranger landed in a pirouette and kicked again. The second copped it squarely in the stomach, kicked directly in the center mass, and sent flying. It hit the railing, and with nothing else to stop it, tumbled over the side and down into the darkness.

Jen had less speed but more spring, dropping beneath a blow as a Cyclobot swiped to catch her. She skidded between the legs, twisting into a crouch as the bot's footing gave way and clattered downward. As another came at her, she was already moving, springboarding off the downed henchman to whip up her legs and snatch the coming enemy by the neck. Jen's hands slapped the railing with her victim gripped between her calves, snapping herself back to heave the Cyclobot into its barely recovered ally.

Benson could only gawk from the sidelines. Watching the two of them move, striking from one Cyclobot to the next, it was like their minds were three enemies ahead of their movements. As if, with nothing but a glance, the two had wordlessly planned the whole battle, and now were moving through the steps of the dance with perfect rhythm.

With two down, Jen launched forward, her grip on the barrier propelling her boots into the next one's chest and letting gravity do the work as she landed. But even in her touchdown and Jen's enemy beneath her, she was still moving. She hit the deck and rolled, legs sweeping beneath the next before snapping up. The next one swung but was nowhere fast enough, its punch swatted back as it flailed into Jen's ideal position.

She was already rushing forward, her boot stamping on the Cyclobot's thigh like a step as she lunged upwards and wrapped her leg around. With all the momentum of her leap and gravity, Jen twisted, squeezing the head between her thighs as she levered on her enemy like a fulcrum and sent them reeling across the deck. The gantry clattered as she landed, and the three left were too far away to get her.

Her pistol was already in her hand. Pink beams flicked across the darkness, lancing the robot's chests in a burst of sparks that sent them reeling. On the other end, Carter leaped into a spinning tornado, kick careening inwards as it cracked across the robot's faceplate and sent it hurtling over the edge. Then, as the two Rangers snapped into defensive stances, a fresh silence filled the air, and Benson could only stare slack-jawed in amazement.

The entire engagement had taken less than twenty seconds. The Cyclobots remaining lay sprawled across the walkway, numbers depleted after plenty of their comrades were sent plummeting into the chasm below. Benson always knew that he'd be well behind the others in skill by coming along, but in seeing them move now he realized just how truly out of his depth he was. They really were in a different league.

From down below, Jen planted her foot on the chest of a groaning Cyclobot, keeping it pinned before looking back up at him.

"We got them," she confirmed. "Come on down, but watch the step, it's a bit of a drop."

He didn't need telling twice, and Benson was already working himself up to leap across the precipice when something caught his eye. Over by the terminals, one of the Cyclobots was moving. So too was another, having grabbed the edge of the railing as Carter had tossed it and moved on to another. And both were readying to strike.

"Look out!"

Benson's warning had barely bellowed as the Cyclobots lunged and crashed into the unsuspecting operatives. Carter was slammed backward, howling as his back cracked against the metal railing and Cyclobot pinned against his hands. Jen was less lucky, henchmen lunging with their arms wide, wrapping around her waist to tackle her. The Chrono-Blaster clattered across the deck as she landed, writhing as the Cyclobot weighed down and grabbed her.

Benson could only watch in horror. In the space of a heartbeat the two lucky henchmen had got the drop, and now both Rangers were struggling at their mercy as the remnants began to rise. And all he could do was stand and observe, a helpless bystander frozen in terror. Metal screeched, ripping its bolts as the railing behind Carter shifted. He rebalanced with a grimace, hands still fighting back as Cyclobot mounted its pressure.

CLANG!

A fist hit the metal, buckling it on impact as Jen's head narrowly twitched to dodge it. Her hands slapped helplessly against its face; the dominant hand pinned by an iron grip with her pistol well out of reach. And the two she'd felled earlier were now rising. On their own they were holding, but if the numbers turned...

The next Benson knew he was soaring. His feet moved on their own, his eyes widening in horror as he bounded from the gap and hurled himself at the gantry. Time froze, almost floating as the distance narrowed, suddenly the true depth of the abyss below dawning on him. But Benson had to make it, had to turn the tide. He was the only hope they had.

His feet slammed the walkway and he was already moving, slamming his shoulder into Carter's captor. His bony joint collided with the metal chest, pain searing through the bone as his momentum carried and smacked the Cyclobot away. The remaining distance was stumbled, his hands slapping the railing as Carter took the opening. His eyes narrowed as he grabbed the Cyclobot's collar, flipping it over his shoulder to send it flailing into the darkness below.

For a moment Benson couldn't move, his hands shaking as they grasped the railing that had stopped him from following the Cyclobot. He'd done it, he'd jumped. And he'd almost fallen in too…

But he didn't have time to revel in his fortune. Not when others were advancing.

Carter was already on them, limbs flashing like slingshots to strike at their chests. But behind them was another clang, the whole gantry shaking as the one on top of Jen missed another punch. Carter might have these, but Jen didn't have time.

With another leap of faith, Benson dived.

The gap between the Cyclobots was so small that he was shocked he made it, both closing to corner Carter as Benson slammed to the other side and scampered. With Jen's pistol lying harmlessly within his reach, Benson's hands slapped the grip and swung it around. He moved without thinking, bringing up the barrel to Cyclobot's head as he squeezed the trigger. A flash of pink warmed his hand as it bounced off the surface, leaving a blackened puncture in the side of the brushed chrome skull.

The Cyclobot stopped, frozen as Benson stared over the smoking barrel, terrified the shot wasn't enough. Then Jen's arm snapped up, grabbing the shoulder and heaving as the disabled henchmen toppled into the dark below. Behind him, he heard the screeching of tearing metal as Carter kicked the Cyclobot through the broken railing, sending it careening into the pit as he too whipped out his pistol and opened fire. The crimson flashed seared against another goon's stomach, the round lancing out the back as it slumped to the ground and it too rolled off the platform like the others.

Then, at last, a fresh silence fell upon the chamber, all of them panting heavy breaths as none spoke in fear of jinxing it.

"That's all of them?" Jen finally queried; eyes nervous looking to the others before scanning the darkened corners.

"Yeah," Carter agreed. "I think that's it."

"Then I better get to work," Benson decided. He rushed to a terminal before any could stop him, determined to act while the adrenaline was still flushing hot through his veins. Because God knew if he wasn't done when the crash hit. But as he reached the console, booting up the screen to see what he was working with, he felt a hand tap his shoulder. It was light, a soft pat from the back of the finger to get his attention, and as Benson looked up, he saw Jen standing beside him.

"Hey," she said softly. "Thanks for the save back there."

"You've done it more than enough for me," Benson replied, as his eyes turned his attention to the login, "about time I returned the favor."

The Pink Time Ranger nodded and stepped back, gaze turning upwards as she and Carter began watching the exits. "How long will you need?"

"However long we've got," Benson admitted. They wanted to be long gone by the time the next guard shift came around, not to mention any patrols that could have heard the commotion. And even that was before considering when Benson's unauthorized access would be detected, likely locking him out. Which meant he had to work fast.

He kicked open the console and opened the login; the first hurdle, but not impassable. With the sheer volume of androids running around the base, Benson suspected that the computer interface was likely for show, a holdover from the time when real people ran this place. But while the frontage may have been fake, the network behind it wasn't. All he'd need to do was crack the login, and he'd be in.

"Carter," he ordered. "Bring that blasted one over here, the one that still has its head."

Carter looked at Jen nervously, but their commander nodded in reply. Be it a concession to his expertise or gratitude, she clearly was not in the mood to argue. The Ranger kneeled, heaving up the body of the robot as Benson kneeled to the panel beneath the keys and pried it open, revealing a mess of wires. Perfect.

"What're you up to?" Carter asked as he pulled the Cyclobot closer like a morbid puppet.

"The login system probably doesn't rely on a basic username and password," Benson explained as he began fiddling beneath. Finding the wire he needed, he carefully pulled it from the casing before snipping it with the cutters from his belt. "I'd wager that these robots all have an automatic login, meaning I can't just spike a password and bypass the login screen. But I can send the request from the terminal to a central processor, which should grant me access."

"That still doesn't explain why you need that thing's head," Jen pointed out.

"If I send out the request, I've got no idea which bot I'm sending it to, and I don't think we've got the time to frisk this guy for a serial number." Benson reasoned. With the cable in hand, he reached behind the Cyclobot's head and ran his fingers where the base met the neck, feeling the crack he was looking for. Piecing with the tip of the pliers, Benson pried it open, revealing the whirring computing unit within. "It means I've got to take a more direct approach."

With the wires plugged in, he returned to the keys, booting up the inline code and filing through it. One punched command later, and the eye on the Cyclobot lit up, causing Carter to almost drop and Jen to fire a shot for good measure.

"It's okay! I had to instigate a partial reactivation to get it to reply, but the good news is you can let go of it now." The login bar flicked away, new windows popping open as Benson cracked a smile. "Because I'm in."

As Benson narrowed his search, Carter's hand relinquished in an instant, the lifeless robot hitting the gantry with a heavy clank.

Priorities: layout and security. Likely things would be tighter the deeper they went, and that made it unlikely that Benson could activate a lock override from his terminal. One problem at a time. The map sprawled out before him, and Benson immediately linked the device with his PDA for a copy of the layout. Three possible locations, all thankfully close together, all under the tightest security. Strange, there was still a need for biometric scans in a place completely overridden with machines, but Benson guessed almost immediately whom they'd belong to; whoever it was in charge. Which made that their next destination.

With any luck, they might even be able to gain better access from his office.

"Doc," Jen warned. "I think I hear some movement. Whatever it is you're doing, you better make it quick."

With one task down, Benson moved to the next task, communication. Time to see what was blocking their coms. But as he switched systems, he realized another possibility, an option he hadn't considered until now. The entire system was a closed network, a black box to the rest of the world. It had external uplinks, sure, but all of those were through specialized ports and servers, keeping the lines secure and encrypted. And that meant there had to be a shutoff.

It might not have been much, but if things went south, it could buy them precious time. Barely moving, Benson's eyes shot to Jen, scanning her nervous expression for a better gauge of how long they had. Not long at all.

Now or never: coms or shut-off. He could do one, but not both. And as he weighed their options, Benson realized it wasn't a choice at all. They were there for a mission, and no matter what, they had to see it through. The world depended on it.

He hit the command and booted the coms network, the full maze of servers flashing before him. From there it was a matter of elimination, determining which ones had access to outside lines and isolating them. And finding their kill code.

Finally, Benson found what he was looking for, inputting a few lines to mask his entry before sending the code he needed to his connected portable device. Then he turned away, booting off and spinning around to his companions as he nodded. "Let's move."

With unnerving swiftness, they raced to the edge of the barrier, Jen helping heave Benson back into the tunnel as she and Carter leaped after him. By the time the Cyclobot reinforcements had arrived, the trio was long gone.

"You got what we need?" Jen asked him as they hurried back into the darkness.

"I know exactly where we need to go," Benson confirmed. "So, let's give pay the Director of Alphabet Soup a little visit."