Space western round of LayethTheSmackDown's contest. For the benefit of the judges, the images used were 1, 2, and 8 along with the compulsory character image.

Marshall Law

With a flick at the layers of her short, burlesque skirt, Jess flashed a small weapon strapped to her upper-thigh as a reminder to one of her regular patrons to keep things civil. "He ain't cheatin', John-Joe. Lady Luck just ain't on your side this nigh'. Sit yoursel' down and I'll bring y'all another round." She nodded to the barman, who set four tankards of the house brew on a tray. As she set the tray on the table in front of him, Jess patted John-Joe on the shoulder to draw his attention away from his cowering comrade. "This be yer last for the nigh', then y'all gotta head on home. Mr. Buzz says he got supplies comin' and some new buyers for that junk y'all pulled outta the mine last month. Y'all need to be at his place by sunrise."

The miner seated opposite John-Joe pushed the brim of his dusty Stetson higher up his forehead so he could meet her eye. "We hear ya, Miss Jess. Did he find out what it is yet?"

"That he didn't say, Billy. Now drink up and get yer scrawny hides home afore Miss Bo locks up The Keep for the nigh'."

The tavern patrons settled into chatter about their discovery, whatever caused the argument replaced by excitement of payday, new supplies, and the mystery of the monstrous machine they trailed out and onto a platform on the upper ridge. Despite there being no power source connected to its tentacle-looking wiring, the machine's opaque dome glowed brighter than the moon, lighting up the night desert with an eerie, blue iridescence. Many in the town thought it had been created by settlers decades before, but Buzz knew the technology was too complex to be that of the planet's first Earth-origin visitors. Someone, or something, had tried to bury it within the mountain it had once topped. The question plaguing Buzz was not why, what it was, or what it did that its creators felt the need to hide it. For Buzz, the question was how much someone would be willing to pay for it.

Just as Jess reached for the tavern bell to call time, the door swung inwards. Desert winds carried a late evening chill inside, swirling dust around the stranger in mini cyclones, and tossed her hair about her face, obscuring it from view.

The door slammed closed, helped by the stranger's knee-length-booted foot. Silence erupted.

A stranger in town never sat well with the locals, and said stranger being another gun-toting female set Jess on edge. Especially when her gun was a match in length to her leg and made Jess' weapon look like a child's toy. Her lean athleticism and attire spoke of a difficult, yet active lifestyle and screamed either bandit or bounty hunter. Neither were welcomed in Redbank.

"Evenin'," Jess greeted the stranger with a nod. "We're just closin' up for the nigh'. Can I help yer with somethin'?"

"I'm in town for the auction tomorrow. Is there some place I can stay for the night? A hotel or something?"

"This here's a small town. We ain't got no fancy hotels..."

"Look," the woman interrupted with a weary tone, her accompanying sigh revealing she was used to being rejected. "I just need somewhere to crash for a few hours."

"Had yer let me finish, I'd done told yer Miss Bo may have a cot over at The Keep." She indicted the group of men who'd been arguing, with a nod in their direction and continued, "These here boys be headin' that way if yer wanna follow 'em."

Jess giggled, shaking her head in amused disbelief, as John-Joe, Billy, and their two friends stood at the same time, sweeping their hats off as they did, and almost knocked the table over in their haste. All four of them rushed to her side like hungry puppies around a feeding dish at mealtime. Beneath her amusement, a flame of envy flared within Jess, igniting a desire to keep the woman as far away from Sheriff Woods as possible.

"Actually," Jess said, having given some thought to how close The Keep and Sheriff's Office were to one another, and how far they were from her tavern, "now I think about it, Miss Bo said she be booked solid for the entire week. Yer can 'ave a cot in the attic here if yer like?"

"You can bunk with me!" John-Joe readily volunteered with vigour, which was met with raucous laughter from the rest of the tavern's patrons.

The woman eyed him with disgust. Having to slap the lecherous hand of one of her would-be-escorts away from the hilt of her newly acquired SureShot made up her mind. Ignoring John-Joe, she strode across the short distance and shook Jess' hand. "Thank you. I would  appreciate that."

~☆ ~

Dawn brought more of the usual heat, stifling because of a lack of wind. Not even the faintest hint of a breeze offered a reprieve or stirred the thin, dried vegetation clinging to life in rock crevices. The stranger, who introduced herself as Ash over a morning coffee she shared with Jess, took shelter in the shade of an overhanging ledge.

Buzz nodded as he passed, climbing a ladder to stand atop the ledge above to address the gathered crowd. With arms outstretched, he waited until the murmurs grew silent, the crowd as still as the air around them. "Friends!" he called, commanding attention. "Thank you for joining us. Shall we get the auction underway so we can be finished afore the noon sun peaks and fries us all to a crisp?"

A couple of hours saw the majority of ore sold. Four bidders haggled over the final lot of Wolframite, dragging the proceedings longer than necessary. Each increased the other's bid by infinitesimal amounts until one of the crowd got tired of the games and bid more than the ore was worth.

"Can we get to the reason we're here?" the bidder asked, mopping sweat from his forehead.

Buzz mirrored the action, and on looking skyward to check the position of the sun, said, "I suggest those interested in our next lot move into the mouth of the caverns where it's cooler. I'll see the rest of you in six months as usual."

Although somewhat stale, the cooler air of the mine entrance did nothing to relieve the tense frustration of the dozen buyers who entered. Ash brought up the rear, following the more curious of the townsfolk.

"What exactly are we bidding on?" one of buyers asked.

Buzz shrugged. "I had hoped some one of you could enlighten me. You've all seen the images I posted on the bulletin board? Large, dome-shaped, unopened storage container is what it says. So, if none of you know, then that's what it is."

No one volunteered information.

"Open it," a buyer demanded. "I want to see what I'm bidding for."

Several others agreed.

Ash, having studied the faces of those gathered and not finding the one she was told would attend the auction, advised against it. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. This place was once a prison for the worst of all our species. Whatever is in that container was meant to stay in it. Particularly if what you wrote is true and it was buried within the mountain."

Two Ulkes, who were working together in order to fund the buy, whispered between themselves. Their supposition that Ash was trying to scare them into not bidding because she wanted the container for herself was overheard by the Guarton. The Guarton, whose hearing was sensitive enough that he could also hear four cycles approaching long before the others, excused himself from the party and took off as quick as his hooves would carry him toward the docking ports..

His sudden departure put Ash on alert. She mimicked the Guarton and listened intently, instructing the Ulkes to shut up so she could hear better. "There's something coming, a small craft. Maybe more than one," she said after a moment. "I don't like the look of this. Where exactly is the unit?"

"About ten minutes walk through the mine from here. Why?"

"And by cycle?"

"About the same because it has to circle the mountain where walking can cut through it. You still haven't told us why."

"If whomever is in that unit you're trying to sell is who I think it is, we're all in trouble."

"You said who, not what was in the unit. What are you not telling us?" the Ulkes demanded.

"I don't know for certain, but my sources think it's a Nugent who goes by the name of Stix. Right around the end of the Great War, when the Nugent were transporting the prisoners to another planet, there was an attack on the ship. The report said the escape pod crash landed here."

Sheriff Woods ceased fanning his face with his Stetson, placing it back atop his head. "This Stix guy, why's he so important you think there are craft on the way to get him after all this time? It's been buried for decades, why now? Who buried the pod?"

Recognising a kindred spirit by the badge he wore, Ash turned her back on the others so she could face him. "He's a war lord. Surely you've heard of him? He's been on he Federation most wanted list for a very long time. Speaking of time, we're wasting it standing here debating the unit's contents. If we're to prevent his release we need to get moving."

Sheriff Woods turned to Buzz and indicated he should lead the way. "The rest of you stay here. It's too dangerous," he instructed the townsfolk.

"I don't know the shafts well enough," Buzz admitted. "Billy here would be your best shot."

It was John-Joe who volunteered to be their guide, not wanting to miss out on what could potentially be the most excitement he'd seen since his days in the Federation Army. As a young man, he'd fought against one of the Nugent's vessels and was aware of the tyrant's reputation.

Despite being in his early sixties, John-Joe set a fast pace through the shafts, emerging on the same level as the unit with his weapon drawn.

Ash stopped short of the pod and swore upon finding the door slightly ajar and the control panel smashed on the inside. "Damn it! We're too late. My sources were right about it being a stasis chamber, but this isn't Nugent technology, it's Guarton."

"What does that mean exactly?"

"I'm not sure, Sheriff. It could be one of two things I guess. Either Stix hijacked a Guarton ship and his own people shot him down by mistake and tried to cover it up, or it wasn't Stix." She reconsidered what she assumed was the Guarton's reaction to hearing the approaching craft at the auction site and realised his attendance didn't fit with what she knew of the race. "The Guarton fleeing indicted fear, but fear of what? The pieces don't fit," she thought aloud. "Could he have escaped the pod since it was moved and wanted to buy it to avoid discovery? If so, who is he?"

Her musing was interrupted when the two cycles they were racing to the capsule stopped at the base of the mountain, their riders dismounting and arguing over who was going to climb. They weren't sure-footed Guarton, who were renowned for their goat-like climbing skills, as both riders stumbled and slipped before they even reached the steeper incline. Their antics were interrupted by a further two cycles racing toward them. A chase ensued with fire blasts arcing between all four cycles. They headed toward the town.

~*~

Luckily for Miss Bo, she was hanging washing out on the line in the back of the Keep when a cycle crashed through the front of the building, destroying the sitting area and reception. Fire erupted soon after, quickly spreading through the wooden structure. As she stood staring at the devastation to her livelihood, a man she recognised as one of her elderly guests jumped off a second cycle with the vigour of a man half his age and, scooping her off her feet, threw her into the back seat, taking off for the port with two other cycles in hot pursuit.

The commotion brought Jess to the window of the merchant store just in time to witness Miss Bo's abduction. Without hesitation, she dropped her basket of goods, sprinting for the delivery buggy parked out front. She tuned the radio in the buggy to the right frequency and called for help with the hope that Sheriff Woods had his handheld switched on.

By the time she reached the port, Sheriff Woods confirmed he was on his way with Ash, Buzz and John-joe in tow. Jess stuffed tinderweed into the engine's air intake, ensuring the small shuttle craft holding Miss Bo remained grounded long enough for the others to arrive.

Inside the ship, Miss Bo's abductor forced her into the co-pilot seat. "I'm sorry," he said with genuine remorse. "I had hoped to live what remains of my existence in your wonderful company in Redbank. Unfortunately my past has finally caught up with me. I'm too old to run, Miss Bo. This little episode has confirmed I'm too old to fight for my freedom."

"Who are you, Max?"

He smiled at the mention of his pseudonym. "For all intents and purposes, I've been Max Walker for the past twenty years. A miner just like all the others in town. At least until they found the pod and my past came back to haunt me when a former associate turned up at your place the other day. I can't believe I went along with his crazy scheme to destroy the pod. I should have trusted my gut and left before the Marshals arrived.

"According to the history books, I'm a tyrant and war lord by the name of Stix. Once those Marshals get their hands on me, I'll be imprisoned for the remainder of my days. I can't let that happen. You understand that?"

"What are you going to do? How do I fit into your plans?"

"You don't. I don't know why I brought you, but you're free to leave. I'm done hiding. Goodbye, Miss Bo, it's been a pleasure knowing you."

With the arrival of Sheriff Woods and his posy, all five of them took up positions around the craft, waiting for the pilot to emerge to clear the air intake. They were beginning to doubt Jess, but after a while, the cargo door opened and Miss Bo dropped to the ground. Two bodies rushed from behind a storage container on the opposite side of the craft and joined her. She calmly walked toward John-Joe, flanked by the Guarton who fled the auction and the Nugent Ash had been looking for.

"Marshal Kidde," Ash greeted the approaching Nugent.

He nodded in response and ushered them further away from the craft. He removed a small device from his pocket and handed it to the Guarton. "When you're ready Marshal Hobbs."

An explosion rocked the ground, sending Jess and John-Joe running for cover. Sheriff Woods and Buzz covered their heads, turning to look at the smouldering mass of what remained of the shuttle.

The Guarton shrugged and handed the device back to his comrade. " Oh well," he said, "saved me the bother."

"Dead suits us better, Sheriff," the Nugent clarified at his shocked expression. "No trial, no prison, no escape attempts."