Chapter Text
On the busy streets of the town of Cragdale, walks a lone galaxy ranger. He’d been having some issues with his hardware, and this planet— Saridum—was the nearest stop available. Luckily for him, his inquiries to folks have proven fruitful; there’s someone who does repairs here. That someone is exactly who he’s on the search for right now.
It was dusk, the sky transitioning from light to dark, with the stars coming out to gaze upon the world below. The streetlights were all flicking on one after the other, and the windows of buildings illuminated from residents turning on their lamps. The clock tower sounded in the distance, the bellowing noise bouncing off of the surrounding houses. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the world trembled.
Boothill surveyed his surroundings for any directional signs, his eyes finally landing on a large, flickering neon arrow— “Constella Co.”—Bullseye. That was the very place he was on the hunt for. He was readying to take a turn in the right direction, when a guard appeared from around the corner in front of him, prompting him to dash into the nearest alley. He’s unsure if the authorities of this town are knowledgeable about the hefty bounty he carries, and he’s not about to find out. He’s not looking for any trouble here.
“No s-suspicious persons here, anything on your end?” The guard’s muffled voice spoke into a transmission device, clearly on the lookout for someone. Hopefully not him. Like it’d be an issue if they were—he’d just high-tail it out of there.
A crackly voice came out of the device in response “Zilch. Come on back to the tower, Ollie— no use looking around any longer. We’ve been sent on another wild goose chase.”
“M-Man, we’ve got to stop listening to all of the intel we get from townsfolk. I-I can’t keep doing this all day.” The guard walked off tiredly, with a loud huff, thankfully in the direction opposite of where Boothill had needed to go.
Since the coast was clear, he resumed his previous task, eventually making his way to the softly lit doorstep of Constella Co Workshop. His eyes gazed up at the sign plastered to the building— it had a motto written under the name: “We aren’t afraid to get our hands dirty!”— He liked the sound of that. It means they aren’t afraid of doing some hard work.
It was a sizable building— two stories high, though the first was wider, with two entrances; one for standard entry, and the other for vehicles , considering its size. It had this warm aura radiating from it, like it was beckoning for him to come inside. As if this was also a home, and not just some old workshop. The look was completed with little lights dangling from the awning above the door, akin to stars burning in the night sky.
His boots clicked as he walked up the steps, ready to get his groove back. He would just repair his problem himself, and he’s knowledgeable enough to do so, but he doesn’t carry the tools on hand— just his trusty gun and its ammo. He stopped for a moment to wipe his dust-covered boots on the little welcome mat, before opening the door and making his way inside. The little bell attached to the door jingled at the motion, alerting the woman at the reception desk to Boothill’s presence.
“Welcome to Constella Co! I’ll be with you in just a moment.” The girl was occupied, writing something down in a book hastily before snapping it shut and returning it to its shelf. She turned around to face him, greeting him once more. “My apologies. Welcome! How may I assist you?”
Judging by the nametag, this must be Edith. She’s a woman of short stature, standing at around five feet tall. She has shoulder-length blonde hair with an ombré of brunette, topped with an old mauve-colored cap wrapped with goggles. She wore a matching pinafore jumpsuit to the hat, covering a pale cream blouse. Her gloved hands fidgeted with her teal bowtie whilst she tapped her brown mary janes on the hard flooring, the sound echoing through the workshop. Her mismatched eyes looked into his, awaiting a response.
“I’ve been havin’ some issues with my enhancements, and it’s gettin’ in the way. Ya think you could help me out with that, miss? ‘Figure out what’s wrong?” Boothill leaned on the desk, tapping his metal fingers on the wood as he spoke.
Edith let her eyes wander, watching how his fingers moved, before returning her gaze back to his face. “Why, sure I can! Just follow me this way and we can get started.” She spoke with contagious enthusiasm, leaving her spot behind the desk and leading the cowboy to the work area— which was surprisingly tidy.
She wheeled two swivel chairs from the corner over to her workbench, sitting in one, and motioning to the other. Boothill seated himself, resting his right arm on the table. Now that he’s inside, the feeling he got from the outside is further strengthened by the cozy interior atmosphere. There’s a radio sitting on the surface of the desk, faint music coming from the speakers. He couldn’t make out the lyrics over the static, but it was catchy.
“So—show me where the issue is, and I’ll see what I can do.” She smiled and clasped her hands together, watching him curiously.
He moved his left arm in a quick, swift motion, trying to open the cylinder on his forearm, but to no avail. “This li’l compartment here won’t open for me, for some odd reason. First time this has ever happened. I’ve tried forcin’ it open, knockin’ it open, everythin’ under the fudgin’ sun, but it won’t budge.”
Edith looked at his arm with interest— she wouldn’t say anything, but she found this man so intriguing from the moment she turned around and saw him. She’s never seen someone like him before in her life, and she’s had plenty of people come in and out of her little workshop.
“I see… Hm… Could you tell me how it works? I’m sorry— I’ve just never seen anything quite like this before. A little information could help me get to the root of it.” Her eyes sparkled with inquisitiveness, glancing between his visible eye and his arm.
“No need to apologize—“ He let out a small chuckle at her awestruck expression “This baby can hold bullets.”
“So… does that mean your arm can work the same as a gun?” Does that imply he can use finger-guns? She’d really like to see that in action. Whoever did work on his body is truly a master at their craft.
“Right on the money! You got some ideas now?” He looked at her quizzically, hoping she’d have the fix for this.
“Mhm!” With a gentle touch, she lifted his arm up to inspect it closer. To make sure her client wasn’t bored, she started a conversation. “You’re not from around here— Where are you from? And what brings you to our little planet?”
“Well, I ain’t got a home— job keeps me on the move. As for why I’m here, I just needed some fixin’ up and you folks were the closest on my route.” He watched her as he spoke, trying to stay as still as possible. “This is a nice little place y’all have, I might stay while I can and see all the sights you have to offer.”
The corners of Edith’s mouth turned upwards at the sound of that, but she contained herself. “I’m glad to hear you like our town! There’s a nice hotel not far from here, and they don’t charge much. Say, what’s your job? Must be a dangerous one for you to have such an enhancement.”
“I’m a Galaxy Ranger, miss.” He held no hesitation in being open, no need to lie about such a thing. Even if he did, there’s no way he could keep that under wraps. With a bounty of 800,000,000 that’s a hefty task.
An intriguing name for an occupation. Many questions flooded Edith’s mind, but she chose only one—the one that’d make the most sense. “A Galaxy Ranger? What do they do?”
“Well, in simple terms, I guess you could say we handle those who are unjust, if you catch what I’m sayin’.” As he spoke, he emphasized the word ‘handle’ strongly.
Her eyes widened as she paused, processing his words. A vigilante, huh? “Oh wow. That’s quite a noble job to have.”
That wasn’t quite the reaction he was expecting, but it’s a welcome one. At least he wouldn’t have to sit through a lecture on how punishing evildoers his way isn’t really ‘Justice’.“Glad ya think so. Many have differin’ opinions on the matter, so it’s nice to hear someone get it the way I do. Not like it’d change my mind if nobody agreed with my way of doin’ things, though.”
She nodded, closely inspecting the hinge on the compartment. “So, it looks like there’s a problem with the hinge. All I’ll need to do is replace the screws for you and maybe apply some lubricant, and you should be all right.”
“That’s good. You do some good sleuthin’— the possibility of it bein’ the hinges slipped my mind! I should probably start replacin’ them screws more often. It’s a li’l hard to keep up when you’re runnin’ around so much.”
“Thank you, but I didn’t do much.” Edith reached up to the panel holding her tools, selecting the right screwdriver for the task and set it down on the table. She opened a drawer and pulled out a small box of screws, and a can of lubricant spray. “That should be all we need! Let’s get started.”
Boothill observed as she twisted the screwdriver, making quick work of removing the screws on the hinge. She held his arm with one hand, and with the other she dug through the box of screws, grabbing two exact matches. Carefully, she screwed them in, making sure they were perfectly in place.
“And, finally, some lubricant.” She sprayed a small amount of it on the hinge, and with that, she was finished. “That should do it! See if it’ll work now.”
With a motion of his arm, the cylinder compartment came open with no issue. As Boothill expected, she did a good job. “A job well done, I’d say! Thank you kindly, Miss Mechanic. How much do I owe?”
She was still in awe of the fact he had an arm that functioned like a gun. She knows a cyborg or two in Cragdale, as accidents aren’t new with a population full of miners and soldiers, but none of them have anything so advanced. She noticed she was staring, and shook her head. “It’s no problem! I won’t charge you for this, it didn’t take too much time and was a simple fix.”
“But I insist. It don’t feel right to not pay such a hard-workin’ lady like yourself.“ If his observations were right, Edith is the only worker here, despite the name of the store implying otherwise. The building is vacant except for the two of them, and it’s far from closing time.
“Oh, alright, if you insist.” She smiled, playfully rolling her eyes. “If you find any old gears lying around, bring some to me before you leave town, ok? We use them as a currency here.”
“Will do!”
“Before you go, I’ll need to put your name in the client booklet— Helps me keep track of who owes money, and any contact information.” She led him back to the reception desk, pulling the book from the shelf. “Say, I never caught your name.”
“The name’s Boothill.” The cowboy tipped his hat, his teeth bared in a grin. She jotted down in her book with a pen, and set it down on the table. Boothill… Edith’s never heard a name like that before. She wondered what it meant?
“I’ll need your signature, if you don’t mind.” Her hands fidgeted with the straps of her pinafore, watching him as he picked up the pen. “Just so nobody comes in here using another clients name. Although, there’s no way I could forget someone like you.”
The comment got an even wider smile out of the man. He supposed he would make a strong first impression to some— he’s not exactly a person you’d see every day. “There ya go.” He paused, remembering something important. “Hey, ya mind lendin’ me a bottle of that lubricant? In case I need it and I’m on the run.”
“I don’t mind a bit! One moment, I’ll go fetch you some.” She left and returned in a flash, handing him a large canister.
“Thank ya bunches. Well, I guess I’ll be off now, it’s gettin’ mighty late. I appreciate your help, Miss Edith.” He made his way to the door, Edith following behind.
“It’s no problem! If you need anything else, I’ll be here! Also, you’ve got to show me how your enhancements work sometime, ok?” She couldn’t help but be curious, though she hoped she didn’t come off as intrusive.
“Alright, maybe one day.” He let out a laugh. Her burning curiosity was quite endearing—he didn’t really expect such an interest in him, he almost doesn’t know how to take it. He reached for the doorknob, waving at her. “Seeya!”
“Bye, take care!” Edith waved at Boothill as he twisted the knob and took his leave. There was just something about that man that had her so intrigued— He had such a mysterious air about him. She could only wonder what his story is.