The jagged, desolate expanse of the rusty badlands sprawled off towards the horizon, scarred deeply with gaping chasms choking on the thickening shadows. The last and smallest of the nearby suns was setting and its pale blue light was swiftly abandoning the land to the night. The sky was a bruised purple, spattered with cold, white stars, and it was getting blacker by the minute.
The Sheriff lowered his binoculars and rolled the dial to night vision. He couldn't see shit in this light anymore, even from the vantage point that the edge of the mesa gave him. Still, at least the green hued display would be a change of colour.
"Come in Woody, over." His radio crackled into life, the sudden electronic buzz slicing through the sibilant sound of wind curling across the rocks.
"I read you Rex. What is it? Over." The green Saurian made an effective guard on account of his attentive, anxious nature, but it was a double-edged sword. Rex lacked any kind of initiative and was prone to panic if the situation deviated from the norm of shooting bandits on sight.
"There's a Space Ranger at the East Gate… over!"
"Wait, 'a' Space Ranger?" Woody frowned to himself. "Just one? One Space Ranger on his own?"
"Yes! At least, he said he was alone. I can't see any other Space Rangers, but what if they are hiding in the dark? There could be a whole squad of them out there and we wouldn't even know about it! He's asking for water Woody… what should I do? And you forgot to say over, over!"
"Sorry Rex. I'll be over there as fast as I can, I'll handle it. Over."
Woody sighed and slapped his palm against Bullseye's keratinous, plated shoulder. "Well old boy, it looks like the night is getting off to a big start."
Bullseye only rumbled in response.
The Sheriff hoisted himself into the saddle and made for town. It had been a long time since he'd had anything to do with Star Command.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
By the time Woody had reached the wheel-mounted, corrugated metal palisade that served as the settlement's ramshackle East Gate, half of the townspeople had gathered. Some had taken positions on the walls, bearing arms but concealing them behind the parapet, cautiously watching their visitor with appropriate suspicion. Others were merely nearby, just in case.
"Woody!" Rex hissed a toothy whisper, waving him over to the gate's shuttered porthole with his cumbersome, claws hands. "I told him he needed to speak to the Sheriff first, you know, just in case."
"How did he take it?"
"I don't know! He's just been standing there. Silently. Waiting." Rex made it sound like the most terrifying behaviour imaginable, and his long blue tongue flickered out nervously, wetting the tip of his scaly snout.
Woody took care to smile confidently, tipping the brim of his hat. "Well I'd better go and make some introductions for our guest then."
He was all friendly smiles as the gate was cranked open, rattling on rusted wheels that screamed in protest. He waved to Beau up in the watchtower, but her eyes were fixed to the scope of her sniper rifle. Tensions were high; there had been enough trouble from raiders and bandits lately. The last thing anyone needed was for Star Command to start butting its corporate nose in and throwing its over-funded weight around.
As Woody rode across the threshold and out into the barren killing ground that spread away from the town's fortifications, the smile dropped from his face like a lead ingot. Perhaps this was a Star Command recruiting drive? God alone knew what war they were fighting now, or what they might want a crop of untrained cannon-fodder for this time.
He approached the Ranger squarely, but even mounted on Bullseye's back, Woody barely had the height advantage. He'd forgotten just how big they made Space Rangers, and the mere size of the other man was unsettling enough.
He was huge. Sure, the glassy dome that topped him off gave him the illusion of more height and breadth, but that was just overkill. The powered exoskeleton had to have a pilot inside it, so somewhere underneath all those white armoured plates of metal, whirring electronics and gadgetry was a man. It would have been easy to explain it all away as layer upon layer of technology, but looking at the position of the joints and hinges in his armour, this mechanical hulk was well filled with a giant of a man. The uncertain and inhuman qualities did nothing to ease the Sheriff's mind.
As Woody drew reluctantly closer, he noticed the state of the Ranger's armour. Blackened scorch marks streaked over the suit, marring the white plates from top to bottom. The dome was dimmed with filth and crowned by a smudged, dark halo. He was dirty, sooty and covered with scratches, dents and chips. He looked as though he'd had a narrow escape from something. A crash perhaps? The ensuing Star Command incident investigation would be hell if that was the case.
Or had he gone feral? Woody wasn't even sure Space Rangers could turn and go AWOL, they were well indoctrinated and loyal to the death by reputation. Still, it was worth bearing in mind. Just in case.
"Howdy partner. What brings you to our neck of the woods this fine evenin'?" There wasn't a single tree or shrub on the planet, but old figures of speech die hard.
The Space Ranger seemed to regard him for some time. It was hard to tell; a face mask under the dome hid any trace of expression. The only sign of life was the rhythmic sound of an air valve clicking interspersed with air rushing through pipes. It was a very synthetic sound, but it implied breathing.
After a tense eternity, the Ranger spoke in a deep, hollow, transmitted voice from speakers hidden somewhere about his person. "Are you the local law enforcement officer?"
"Well yes. Yes I suppose I am. I'm the Sheriff round these parts. Sheriff Woodrow Pride." He didn't fancy sacrificing a hand to the iron grip of that exosuit, so he just tipped his hat.
Again the Ranger took some time to form a response. Perhaps he really had crashed, and shaken his brain loose in the process?
"My name is Buzz Lightyear. I'd appreciate access to water and mechanical supplies."
Buzz Lightyear? It sounded like a fake name to Woody, but who knew these days? A man could chose to change his name and start a new life on a new planet. Or a moon. He wasn't sure if the same went for Space Rangers, but he had no interest in prying. It was probably 'classified' anyway. This visitor had a jet-propelled suit of armour with hidden lasers; 'Buzz' could have jumped over the towns' meagre defences and commandeered any supplies he saw fit. There weren't many tools or weapons in the town that could even dent a Space Ranger's metal hide. It's not as though anyone would have tried to argue. At least, nobody who wanted to live anyway. Besides, one good turn deserved another, and so far this Ranger had been more polite than most.
"We don't have much to spare I'm afraid, but I'm sure we can fix you up with at least a little of both."
