Waste Ranger History

[Chairdor]

A Brief History of the Rangers
By Ross Hakina​

Following the fall of the Alliance, vast swathes of the galaxy fell into a state of flux, a power vacuum. This void was filled many times by the worst villainy imaginable. Thugs, thieves, and cut throats made many planets uninhabitable for the honest and innocent. This power void threw many respectable Alliance officers of the peace out onto the streets. Many of these brave men and women did not survive as the class of criminals they attempted to keep from the public destroyed them in their moments of weakness, leaving their bodies hung and burnt as a testament of fear to all those passing by. Those that did survive, did so in the wastes of their worlds, the sewers, the deserts, the frigid icy hills.

These hardened hold outs of an era of decency soon began to frequent cantinas for a chance to socialize without worry of their past being discovered, on one fateful night however a droid by the name of Hiro overheard one such warrior drunkenly recounting his tales of valor, his many arrests, his bravery and service. Noting thugs within the bar wished him ill-will Hiro whisked him away and the next morning heard his tale and was so inspired he sought out others like him. Across the words of the outer rim were all types of has-been officers now barely scraping by and doing little good as the worlds they protected fell into disrepair and disarray. Collecting these wayward spirits of justice, Hiro and those he gathered pooled their resources and established a base, a Saloon as it seemed fitting for their unique class, justices with no justification. Then a small band the small group attempted to do a lot of good for the galaxy.

---

The First Rangers​

---

Hiro wanted to expand however, he sought many people across the galaxy and for a time it seemed greatness and all their goals were assured. Dark times had fallen before. Rangers had died. Now though the Saloon was full of hope and those hopeful people strong enough to make Zonju V, hell, even the universe a better place.

They met in the Saloon. They drank to the code, young men and women, old ones to, people of every color, species, and gender you could think of all for the simple cause of justice. Still it was a brittle thing this alliance and all of it was held by the relationships Hiro shared with many of them. It wasn't a worry at all that somehow someday the cowboy droid would just up and vanish.

But that is precisely what he did.

For weeks they searched for him, but when he wasn't found other Rangers simply decided not to return. The group was a pipe dream for starters anyhow. Left alone after having antagonized the criminal groups that controlled the city Ross made a desperate call. Meeting with Federated Republic officials he organized an alliance of mutual protection. The Republic thought this was a good move, but Ross had left something crucial out of the meeting.

He didn't tell them the other Rangers had left long ago. They only numbered ten.

When the emboldened Ra'Fakki came to roll of the Republic, the whips of the new TMC corporation at their backs, the Rangers could do nothing to stop them... it was their first fall

How the West Was Lost

Captain Harrassi​

]"Aim front and center! It's weak point is it's legs!" Captain Harrassi called as molten metal smacked the earth all around her, a stray spark of heat slapping harshly against her cheek. Grimacing at the pain the republican guard aimed her rifle as many did the same. The massive metal horror was off world tech, way off world, but the pilots were still Ra'Fakki maniacs so there was hope that the steel behemoth could be beaten.

As she fired, Harrassi continued to look down at her wrist monitor for word from the Federated Republics Palace, but none had come but the simple message forty minutes before that help was coming. The Captain had heard that before when she was a Lieutenant getting buckshot from Mallum thugs in the back alleys of goddess knows where, she had heard it when she was a private trapped in the mines for weaks as pack after pack of Grays ravaged her closest friends. She knew what it meant by experience, help wasn't coming.

"Concentrate your fire! Aim! On my mark! Fire!" a slew of shot clattered against the titan to no effect as the metallic beast seemed to roar in reply as its rusted legs smashed down a barracks like a child would a sandcastle. As she continued to give orders Harrassi wondered what had led to this day, a day where the Republic could be snuffed out forever when all it wanted to do was save the people of this city. That stray thought ended with a stray shot that cut into a soldier just to the side of her,

"You alright soldier?!" the captain shouted, though she knew the soldier by name having fought many battles with her.

The soldier looked at the large opening near her stomach and sighed,

"I've had worse Capn,"

Harrassi smiled, her world was ending, but she wasn't the only one,

"You'll live to see the sunrise Rika," she said as she turned to return a volley against a pack of drugged up Ra'Fakki

"Yeah and you're eight feet tall," she said as she began to apply an ointment to her wound that would stop the bleeding.

Stop the bleeding, that's what the Captain had to do, though she had few bandages and the cuts were many, nothing was impossible, she just had to be creative. Cuts, bleeding, bandages.

"I need some stitches," Harrassi said aloud in sudden realization.

"You're not the only one!" Rika shouted in return as she stood readying her rifle for another wave.

Harrassi turned to Rika and a few other guardsmen, a small loyal band against impossible odds. In the past their deeds would be chronicled in the Republics archives, their holoimages placed alongside the greatest warriors of the Republics age, Tarsus the Wise, Morgalla the Just. What would her title have been, the captain wondered as she cast her lot upon the table, one last gamble for it all.

"We split into three groups, too go topside on the highest things you can find-"

"That's suicide!" one of the militia men cried as another tower was toppled by the massive mech.

Harrassi simply smiled and said, "Then I'm sure you'll find the other task much more agreeable,"

Vince​

He knew his task was dangerous, everyday he knew he was a coin flip away from death, but he had gotten lucky for a long time with the calls. Today was not one of those days. As another pair of laser sights moved freely across him and the highly paid Erenshi mercs moved closer, Vince knew he wouldn't be able to complete his mission. He was grabbed roughly by the closest and unfortunately, biggest, merc and was squeezed tight as he was pulled into an alley and then into a small defunct bar. Thrown behind the bar counter, Vince rose up with a look of confidence wholly undeserved and said,

"What can I get you boys?"

A fist slammed onto the table causing it to crack slightly along with Vince's facade of strength,

"Information,"

"I stopped trading secrets long ago- ACCCK" Vince felt the small bones in his wrist snap as pain overwhelmed his systems causing him to slump to his knees as he was finally released. Gripping his limp wrist, first pale and now swiftly turning dark purple, the barkeep held back a sob as the man let out a slight guffaw,

"I wasn't interested in trading, now tell me where the Saloon is,"

Vince had lived a long life on the run, he had gone through more alter egos than a Twi'Lek dancer goes through lovers. Hell, Vince wasn't even his real name. However, as he looked up at the sneering man and saw one more desperate escape, another dive into the gutter to save his skin, he spit.

"Well I can tell you one thing," Vince said with a grim smile as the merc wiped the wet from his face, "It sure ain't within spitting distance of here,"

A schlick was heard as a vibroknife was slowly removed from its shealth,

"You got a smart mouth,"

"Smarter than your brain at least," Vince interjected, knowing things couldn't get worse for him at this point.

Lifted suddenly and slammed across the bar, Vince tried to get up only to be forcibly held down and then lifted and placed into a chair all the while his broken wrist throbbed in agony. Looking up at the massive mercenary, his face hidden by a mask, he saw his own face in the visor and he saw fear. Determined not to give the vandals any pleasure, Vince wiped the look from his face. A hand grasped his throat causing Vince to open his mouth in nervous reaction. A pair of fingers forced it to stay open as two more grabbed his tongue.

"Let's get that tongue out of your cheek shall we?"

Laughter mixed with gurgled screams. And then silence.

Ross​

"Where is she!" Ross cried out again as his gun shook, his trigger finger growing itchier by the second. Again he was ignored by the mysterious figure, the man in the shadows. Pepper had disappeared a night before the attack, the attack on everything Ross loved and cherished. As he pressed his finger upon the trigger, hundreds more were pulled to kill Rangers and Guardsmen and plain honest and good people who got in their way. The man was defiant, holding his own gun and training it on Ross's grim face.

Ross had been searching the markets low profile, still calm as always though the battle ravaged just a few miles away. The man had attacked him, first with a knife then a blaster. Ross miraculously avoided these attacks by sheer luck or reaction or both and now he had the man in his sights. Ross was never one to pursue attackers directly, but it was what he said that triggered this rage, 'Soon you'll be just like her'. He said, a smile as wide as a child's on their first birthday. There were many things to feel when you kill, happiness should never enter the equation, this man was a maniac and Ross was glad to rid this world and all the rest of him, but he needed to know first,

"Where is she!"

It seemed the man would have shot long ago, but a metal man was holding him back disrupting his aim, Ross couldn't hear him and couldn't read his lips as he had none, so he never expected the two stun bolts in his chest from a sniper up above as the robot continued,

"Subject is to be captured alive, minimal harm as we require his information,"

As Ross fell and the encamped team moved in to capture him, the bounty hunter sighed and lowered his weapon,

"You're no fun,"

"Fun is a biological aberration, it is inefficient,"

The mercenary didn't waste time as he raised his weapon and fired three shots knocking the droids head clean off,

"So is having no head," he said with a laugh, "Why hire Killer Mark if you didn't want someone killed eh...makes no sense."

as Ross was lifted Mark meandered toward him and grasped his face, moving his cheeks about as he wondered was was so special about this man. As Ross was removed from his grasp he snatched the bag of credits thrown at him and gripped it tight remembering what he had to do to get this job done,

"They forced me to miss," he said his teeth clenching, "I won't do that again,"

In a dark room Ross awoke. He looked up to a smiling face he knew well enough,

"Barlon..."

"What no titles? Haven't you heard I'm Excecutor of the Erenshi Bank, Estate Manager of the Coliseum and Head of the Marketing Trade Board,"

"No surprise you sold your playing cards to the highest bidder, hope you know you sold your soul as well,"

Barlon smile faded slightly as he pressed a button sending a shock through Ross's system. The ranger jolted, his body held stiff by the metal bars which held him firmly to the seat. Ross, after regaining his composure, chuckled slightly which gave Barlon reason to pause as he leaned in and whispered,

"What's so funny?"

"You,"

Another shock came out, this one longer and stronger, the doubling of effects nearly knocking the Ranger out as he spewed spit uncontrollably and his wrists cut themselves against the binding steel,

"Really...I'm funny because you're the one who looks ridiculous...and you're about to look more so..."

Barlon produced a small device and placed it on Ross's head,

"Don't worry...if this hurts. You won't remember it."

Screams echoed from the flickering chamber as the Erenshi leader smiled.

Captain Harrassi​

“You have got to be kidding me!” the soldier yelled for the third time as the massive metal beast continued to clamber behind them, following up slow steps with massive bursts of fire. He thought the plan to take the towers was suicide, but he didn’t realize the alternative was being bait for something eight times bigger than his house.

“Serpentine, serpentine!” one of the soldiers continued to yell out of nervousness more than actual advice. Still the trio of soldiers dashed about as randomly as they could and this had proved effective so far as the slow yet overwhelming shot of the metal walker couldn’t quite connect with the quick moving Republican guards. Like all things this could only change with time and so the soldiers continued to move towards the two towers, hoping desperately whatever plan Captain Harrassi had didn’t end with, ‘you guys go distract them’.

Slowly Captain Harrassi moved from floor to floor as the unit across the barren war torn street did the same. They had come across no resistance so far, but that only heightened Harrassi’s suspicions. This was a prime spot for snipers and she was sure she’d seen shooting in the area. I was in the misdt of this thought that the captain nearly lost herself, or at least a large portion of her lower body. Stopped on instinct, the captain looked down to find her foot precariously close to a trip mine. Placing the foot back slowly Harrassi wordlessly motioned to her men to ready their weapons. Slowly they moved past the device and onto the next floor to find the snipers post abandoned, his gun still perched by the window,

“Looks like he moved out, men ge- AUGH” a shot of pain entered Harrassi along with the knife responsible as the sniper pulled it out and placed it upon her neck. Instantly guns were trained on her and her captor as he silently judged the situation.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” he began, though he’d never finish as a bolt tore through his eyes causing the knife to clatter to the floor along with its wielder. Slowly Captain Harassi reached up and tapped the bottom of her ear to find it was no longer there. Rika moved up and inspected the wound,

“I’m sorry Captain, you both moved at the last second,”
The captain smiled as she looked down at the indent in Rika’s flesh,
“Don’t worry soldier,” she said with a smile, “I’ve had worse.”

Across the way the other trio of soldier made similar progress with fewer obstacles and swiftly set up to put the plan into action. A soldier placed his hand upon his ear piece and said swiftly,

“Operation spider web is ago Captain, waiting on your orders,”
A crackle and then a moment later the Captain responded in the affirmative as both groups trained their guns on one another waiting for their catch. Just as they came into position the final trio, being pursued by the massive mech, arrived rushing past the two and further down the street. The Captain watched as the heavily armed mech continued to make its way towards her men waiting, every moment, every bead of sweat slowed as the machines progress seemed to grind to a halt. Then just like that it was in position.

“Thread the needle!” she called out as instantly both sides fired grappling guns upon the other. Hooks slammed into the wall on either side creating a small web of rope just as the mech took a lumbering step toward it. Caught by this entanglement the beast slowed for a moment as the towers began to crack under the sudden pressure. For a moment it seemed the beast would break free and bring the towers down on the soldiers, but just in that moment it began to falter and then to fall. Crashing into the earth, the ropes snapping with it, Captain Harrassi issued a victorious battle cry as the machine which had brought so much death to the Republic was laid low. It was then she noticed her communicator was vibrating,

“Hail chief!” she said into the intercom as her troops continued their celebration, “We’ve defeated a heavy target and await further orders.”

Silence was her reply for a moment and then a heavy sob as a shot rang out causing Harrassi to grasp her ear in shock. A woman’s voice, a cruel vindictive voice came to answer her,

“Your President and his Republic…are dead.”

Ross​

Had it been hours, days, mere minutes? Ross couldn't recall. His memories seemed to mock him, coming in flashes and sparks like the death throes of a campfire. One thing was certain, he had to get home, he had to find the Rangers to warn them. About what he didn't know, couldn't remember. It seemed the fog of his mind was entering reality as the old Ranger coughed as smoke from the fires throughout the city. Have to get back, have to warn them. He thought in desperation as he began to move past a grim looking group of tattooed men. Moving deeper into the city, Ross never noticed the small army slowly following him, guns trained and ready.

Deeper into the smoke, the fog, the dark. Ross continued to try to sort himself, to understand where his mind was, where he was, where he was heading. The Saloon, he had to make it back to the Saloon to warn the rangers. Moving faster now, the old ranger moved down the series of back alleys that would take him to the hideout all the while he was tracked and followed every step and stumble of the way. When he at last arrived in front of the place he placed his eye on the retina scanner and came inside.

"Scalia!...Vince...I have to tell you something!" he shouted, only to then realize how slurred his speech was. Now stopped he began to feel many of the odd sensations covering his body. His legs were twitching, his hair seemed, lighter and missing in spots. The vortex of his thoughts began to slow and when it at last stopped he heard the beeping, so quiet yet just loud enough to stay in ones mind if only they were paying attention. Looking down at his leg he saw the anklet and remembered, the smoke cleared away just as Scalia walked into the bar,

"What's up Ro-" she attempted to say before being tackled as a hail of blaster fire entered the Saloon.

"Get down!" he cried as men began entering throwing explosives and firing wildly into the building. Lifting himself and Scalia, Ross rushed into the garage only to nearly get knocked off his feet again as a rocket slammed into the door, the resulting hole allowing a flood of men into the breech. Slamming into the lift and placing Scalia down he hit the emergency switch sending them up at a rocketing pace. Down below he continued to hear the raiders smashing everything they could find as he gathered his thoughts.

"Ross what's going on?"

"Wheres Vince?" Ross asked rather than answered still trying to make sense of this.

"He went to look for you when you didn't come back from the market," Scalia said watching as the elevator began to descend, sure to bring a load of men up on it's next ascent. Ross placed his hands on his temples as he tried to think of a way to escape, to flee. As he thought Scalia watched as the lift slowly rose and knew death was upon them, she could either take it. Or give it right back. Thrusting her hand into Ross's belt she grabbed a grenade and pulled its pin. In her hands it cooked as she remembered. Once she had wanted to do nothing but be a Ranger, to kill the wicked and save the just, but given an opportunity, she couldn't pull the trigger. Now the pin had been pulled and it was either them or her. When the doors finally opened, Scalia found throwing the explosive into the opening wasn't nearly as hard as she expected. A single shocked shout and then an explosion as the elevator went careening down to the earth in flames.

"Scalia..." Ross began, but he found no words to say as Scalia watched her innocence end with so many lives. Seeing she was shaken Ross moved to comfort her, but she backed away and moved into the bunks searching. Finally she snatched up a gun in Pepper's bunk and swiftly cocked it, throwing Ross another before turning to the window with single-minded determination. Ross looked at Scalia with new eyes as this young woman dashed toward the curtained opening, firing two shots to weaken the glass before crashing toward what Ross thought was certain death. Instead he heard a grunt and a hard landing and looked out to see the wily engineer had made it safely to a nearby lower roof. Realizing he had to follow the large man got as far back as he could, stomach shaking with every thrust of his enlarged legs, Ross shouted as he burst from the window and landed on the roof, only to continue falling as the roof collapsed beneath his feet.

"Oh...Oh I think I broke something," Ross said in sudden fear as he pulled out the broken thing he felt to reveal a piece of the roof, "Ah"

Hands helped him up as Scalia looked over at the Saloon still being pelted and burned by the scourge all around it. Her hands gripped harshly on her gun, but Ross stopped her saying simply,

"This ain't our day." before moving deeper into the rubble.

Vince​

Copper. He tasted copper. When you die you taste copper, Vince determined. Smells, he smelled dirt and sweat and copper. Vince opened his eyes as he realized he wasn't dead. He looked down to see the copper taste and smell was blood, his blood filling his mouth. At that moment a hand was forced upon his nose clenching his nostrils and as his body reacted by breathing through his mouth it began to sputter and choke on blood, his blood.

"Remember all the times someone said to you...that that tongue is gonna get you killed?" the man said, his visor hiding any expression, "They were right"

Vince struggled against the brutish men all he could as darkness began to appear in the corners of his vision, creeping in, promising him rest, sleep, no pain, only rest. Vince's eyelids fluttered for a moment before he was jolted awake by three shots. Instantly the three men fell to the floor, streams that smell of copper flowing from their heads. Vince breathed in deeply, greedily, thankfully as he looked upon his rescuer. When he saw him he did not speak not because his tongue was gone, he did not speak because he was truly speechless.

"Howdy pardner"

Hiro​

'And I went through the desert on a gobo with no name...'

Hiro was a robot so it was hard to equate his preferences towards something as love, but he certainly loved this song. It was catchy and seemed to fit his journey. He didn't know where it started, he didn't know how it ended. He didn't know his gobo's name, he barely remembered his own.

Hiro.

Such a simple title duo-syllabic yet its simplicity seemed to emanate a strength. As the city grew in the distance he saw the smoke and he knew he needed to help. He couldn't remember when, but he had been to this city before, before he had ventured into the dark caves and seen...and seen. Another screen flashed Memory Deleted and the bot waived it off with a flash of negative feedback. A human might remember from association, but a robot can forget forever and Hiro did.

Once in the city he heard the fighting and the dying and wondered how many faces he scanned that day would he ever see again. Then he saw a face his scanner recognized, not from any recorded memory, but a simply dash indicating he had seen this man many times before. He was being dragged into a derelict bar by three men and Hiro wondered whether or not he should interfere. He wondered for a long time, his processors going back and forth altering data points and then he realized, if he let this man die he'd never be able to make this decision again. So for that odd reasoning, Hiro strode forth into the bar and stood over the bleeding man who looked up at him with great shock.

"Howdy pardner" he said to the man as he helped him up and looked at his wound. Realizing what needed to be done he saw one of the men had a Bunsen torch and quickly used it to alight one of his hands,

"Now pardner I can see you lost your tongue there so well do one nod for yes and two for no you got that?"

Vince nodded and Hiro nodded back before showing his glowing hand,

"I'm sorry friend this is gonna hurt worse than a brand on your johnson,"

Hiro placed his burning digits on Vince's open wound causing him to quick and move all around until at last the cowboys work was done. Seeing the wound sealed Hiro moved behind the bar to find no water, but plenty of whiskey which he handed to a reasonably thirsty Vince.

"There's better ways of doin that, but we didn't have the time I reckon, plus it looked like you need to lay low anyhow and I don't think this place has docs who make house calls,"

Hiro was rambling when he saw the man had a peculiar look on his face, like Hiro was supposed to say a certain something or do a certain something and when he did not the man's eyes widened and he began to beckon him and walk to the door. While the situation was serious something compelled Hiro to say the following,

"What's that Lassie? Little Timmy is trapped in a well?"

Two nods and Hiro chuckled following the unfortunate man deep into the city past ugly mugs and uglier muggins, it seems the entirety of this godforsaken place had removed any expectation of decency as fire and bloodshed clasped hands in a merry dance of death. When they at last stopped the man fell to his knees seeing a building destroyed,

"Was that your home?"

A nod, then Vince pointed to Hiro

"My home?"

A nod.

A spark of reflection and the message again Memory Deleted

"Vince!" came a mans shout as two emerged from some nearby rubble. The fatter man clasped his skinny counterparts hand and the young woman who accompanied him looked nervously around, her hand on a small blaster.

"Howdy pardners," Hiro said nonchalantly to which the two replied quite surprisingly.

"Hiro?"

Hiro nodded and then noticed he recognized these faces as well and this building and this city and

Memory Deleted
Memory Deleted
Memory Deleted

As Hiro wiped the concurring messages away he asked aloud

"What happened?"

To which Ross replied as another part of the city was engulfed in flames.

"We lost"

Rangers Rebuilt​

Hiro knew Scalia didn't do this often. Not anymore. She probably wouldn't do it now if Hiro called her that, Scalia that is. She went by Gray now and gray it had certainly been. It had been months since the city was nearly taken over by the TMC, the Federated Republic was laid low, and the Rangers were made homeless.

Still they were Waste Rangers for a reason. They endured and they came back from the depths of the desert to make a new homestead. Sure the lights weren't quite on, but people sure were home. Already Hiro had been at work bringing together friends old and new in order to remake his Waste Rangers.

First of course he had to put himself back together.

Gray's nimble fingers worked over his metal joints like a violist pulling a string. His arm was swiftly detached as she emptied it of loose sand and checked its lubrication, dry. Very dry. She shook her head and got to the task of fixing it while Hiro thought about...everything he could. He didn't remember the time that had past, or his past for that matter. He had looked through records, dived through backlogs, attempted to find some sort of virus or bug that caused him to forget.

But nothing could be found.

Still Hiro didn't linger. How could he with the monumental tasks before him. He would have to rebuild himself, this fort, the Rangers, this world. So much and so many needed protection and he had but two arms. Luckily he also had good friends. Ross, Scalia, Vince, Clunky, Scruffy, Daxim, Hal, Matayn and even good ol Archimedes had stood by him when he needed it most. Now they needed him, so he needed to be strong again.

His arms were fitted, his legs reworked, his chassi tightened. Then Gray grew close to his head and his hand raised and brushed her away,

"We're never going to know what happened." she said arms crossed

Hiro nodded. Perhaps that's how it was meant to be.

Rising and heading out of the base he greeted the sun with his gun. Lifted over his shoulder he returned to the Waste which had consumed him and spit him out a new man. He would change this deadly world, hand over fist he would dig into the black of the earth until he found the gold beneath that hid in the heart of everyman. First however, he would need to find others willing to dig.

So he got back to work, got Ross to make some calls, then he got on his Gobo for a ride.

Back in the saddle.

---

2 Hours after The Day of Salt and Water

"Where's Hiro?"

It was a question asked at first with a simple tone of need. They needed their leader, their founder, their friend to help them through this troubled time. Ross got no answer, Gray got silence, Rebbeca, Aola, the rest, all got the same. Even Jesse called himself hoarse as the calls became more frantic, more undecided, more fearful.

When they got the news they didn't believe. They refused.

But they all knew.

Hiro was dead.

Struck by the storm, a burst of light. Someone had seen it, had heard his final words. No one quite knew what it meant, but they were damn determined to pretend. That's what leadership was, the constant act of pretending you're one step ahead of the pack. Knowing of Hiro's death of course led Gray to want to send a search party, even Ross desired it somewhat, but he tempered her. People were still bleeding from the last licking, they needed this day to be over. They needed to find some peace.

Peace. That's the first thing everyone wanted, but the last thing they'd get.

---

24 Hours after The Day of Salt And Water​

Gray had left. She couldn't bear the inaction, the lack of gumption. The lack of 'grit' as she called it. She had taken some of the able-bodied, those who volunteered. She said she intended to 'Take back what was lost'. None of us quite knew what that meant, her included.

Pyres had been lit for the fallen, the many fallen. Hiro, Johnny, Vince, names among so many other names. Lives worth something to someone now lost in the disarray.

Still not all mourned, some saw a future. A future they could make. This old town once called Duskwood