He could hear his mother calling. Booster rolled over, yawning. Ma must have breakfast ready, he thought, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Funny, I don't smell anything... And then he took in his surroundings and found himself in his cramped quarters aboard Star Command.
It was just a dream, he realised. Of course it was. He wasn't on Jo-Ad—he couldn't be, because Zurg held his world now. Booster let out a breath, feeling as if he'd been punched in the gut. Why couldn't the attack have been the dream? Why couldn't he wake up to the smell of fresh bunzel pancakes and hear the distant grunting of moozles, like he used to, so long ago?
He flung back the covers, and the bed creaked as he pulled himself up. He couldn't live in the past. The time had come to face the future. Zurg will be here today, he thought. He's going to hit Capital Planet. We have to stop him!
Once he put on his suit, he left his room and headed for the cafeteria. With any luck, Mira and XR would be there and he wouldn't have to eat breakfast alone. Buzz had chosen to spend the night at his house, so he wouldn't be joining them. Booster was almost grateful for that. It was hard to look his hero in the eye after... after what had happened.
That wasn't his fault, Booster argued with himself. He had no choice—he didn't have enough ships to stop Zurg. Things will be different this time. After we defeat Zurg we'll free Jo-Ad, and then everything will be okay. I'll get to see my parents again.
But the hollowness wouldn't leave his chest.
The cafeteria was crowded when he entered, filled with Rangers wolfing down one last meal before they were sent out to fight. A few nodded to him as he walked past, but most were too lost in their own thoughts.
The ever-friendly Sprocket Crockett waved from his table where he sat with the rest of Team Vok, and Booster managed a smile in return. "Have you seen Mira and XR?" he asked.
Sprocket shrugged and shook his head. "Sorry, man, I just got here."
"I think I saw them at Buzzzz's usssual table," offered his insectoid teammate, Lenny, stretching some of the syllables into a wasp-like hum.
"Thanks." Booster left them and made his way to the far end of the room. Buzz had a special table there, which he and Warp had claimed many years back, and Team Lightyear still congregated around it most mornings.
Mira and XR were seated there now, a can of oil in XR's hand and an untouched tray of toast beside Mira. Both glanced up hopefully when they heard him approach.
"Hi, guys," he greeted softly.
"Oh, hi, Booster." Mira seemed disappointed. "Is Buzz here yet?"
"I don't think so." Booster pulled back a seat and joined them. "He's probably still on the shuttle from Capital Planet."
She nodded absently. "Yeah, I guess. I wish he were here..."
Booster said nothing. She was probably right—things would be better when Buzz got there. Buzz was... well, Buzz, right? He twiddled his thumbs and looked down.
"Are you gonna eat anything, big guy?" XR asked.
"I'm not really hungry." The sweet taste of bunzel pancakes came back to him, lingering on his tongue. His throat tightened.
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Mira patted his shoulder. "But c'mon, guys, we can't just sit here moping. We've got to keep our chins up!"
"Easy for you to say, you actually have a chin," retorted XR.
An alarm blared over the speakers, and the room echoed with boots clattering on the floor as Rangers stood up alertly. "Attention all Rangers," it was Commander Nebula's booming voice, "report to the cruiser bay on the double! Repeat, get to the cruiser bay ASAP! Sorry to cut your breakfast short, boys and girls, but it's time to go!"
He'd never been so angry in his life. Not even when his every impulse had been to rip Buzz limb from limb, during the Wirewolf incident. Ty would've slammed a door if there'd been one handy, but doors seemed about as common as tasteful fashion on Tangea. So he contented himself with pacing around the throne room and throwing violent glares at the ornate flower pots lining the walls.
It wasn't just unfair, it was insulting. Ever since Buzz had blasted that last Canis Lunis moon rock to kingdom come, Ty hadn't given Star Command any cause to doubt his fitness for duty. He'd endured long, tedious desk jobs while they assessed him, and he'd proven himself perfectly sound in both mind and body.
But once again, he was being left out of the fight. "We need someone on Tangea to look after the evacuees," Commander Nebula had said. Overseeing the resettlement had been one thing—at least it was an important assignment, even if it was boring work. But what use was he on Tangea when the fight was taking place in Capital Planet airspace? The evacuees weren't going to come under attack while Zurg's forces were in a completely different part of the quadrant. It was ridiculous!
"Better safe than sorry," the commander had told him.
Sure. He kicked the wall.
"Really, Ranger Parsec, is that going to help?" King Nova sat in his throne, an eyebrow raised. "I understand how you feel—believe it or not, I wish I could be there too, alongside my daughter—but we must accept that our responsibilities lie elsewhere."
Ty scowled, then took a deep breath and nodded. "I know. I just... I thought maybe this time it would be different. I thought just this once they might trust me enough to let me in." Guess I was wrong. They were never going to trust him, not really. If he hadn't been a proven veteran, if he hadn't had Buzz Lightyear himself put in a good word for him, he wondered if he would have even been reinstated at all. They'd probably have had him checking parking metres on Carnyworld.
"Your Highness." A man dressed in the long, yellow uniform of the royal guard ghosted into the room, bowing to the king. "There's someone who wishes to speak to Ranger Parsec—one of the outworlders from the camp."
"Send them in." Nova nodded.
The guard returned a moment later with a tall, nervous-looking robot. Its design was vaguely retro, and the bowtie painted on its neck led Ty to suspect it had originally been a waiterbot. The eyes seemed familiar—he realised they reminded him of XR's. Probably the same model. That was thing with robots, they were just a collection of parts, easily mixed and matched. He felt an odd twinge. After the Wirewolf affair, it wasn't so easy to see robots as a separate form of life. If he could practically become one, then where did machine life end and organic life begin? Weren't organics just a collection of parts too, simply made out of different materials? He shifted uneasily. If that was the case, did killing robots make you a murderer? Maybe not in the courts, but he would never be able to shake the memory of Sentry 2's dismembered form lying in a pool of servo fluid beside him, the same fluid covering his hands...
That's all in the past, he chastised himself. He'd already been through all this with the Star Command counsellors. Just forget it.
"Can I help you?" he asked the robot smoothly, all Star Command professionalism. If he was stuck on Tangea, he might as well act the part of the dutiful Ranger. He was good at that, wasn't he? Always gritting his teeth and playing the good soldier, no matter how lousy the assignment, because he just didn't have it in him to do otherwise. Somehow, in spite of everything, he loved the badge and everything it stood for—he couldn't shirk his duty. Some of the Rangers like Rocket tried to fight the system, demanding better postings here and fudging a few rules there, all to get ahead in the vain struggle for prestige. It was a race where the only prize you could hope for was second best, and they all knew it—Buzz's shadow would always hang over them. Well, Ty wasn't going to participate, no matter how good a little recognition would've felt. He didn't have to like his assignments, but he would do them and do them well. That's what being a Ranger was all about, right? He stood up a little straighter and turned his thoughts back to the robot in front of him, wondering what it could possibly want. The camp was equipped with charging units and everything else the robotic evacuees would need, and they even had a couple of technicians on hand in case repairs were necessary.
"It's—it's my daughter." The robot wrung its hands. "I don't know what to do! She just disappeared!"
"Hold on, slow down," Ty stopped him. "Your daughter? What's her name? Is she a robot?"
"No, no," the robot shook his head. "Her name's Savy. Savy SL2. She's human—my wife and I adopted her, many years ago." He paused and held out a hand, as if realising they hadn't been properly introduced. "You can call me SL, by the way."
Ty nodded, shaking it. Savy SL2—didn't he know that name from somewhere? There'd been a Savy in the Junior Rangers. He'd met a bunch of the kids once, on a particularly glorious mission, when he'd transported a bus full of them to some fundraising event. "What happened to her?" he asked.
SL sighed. "I don't know. She'd left our tent to explore the camp—we thought it was safe enough with all the supervisors around—and she never came back. We waited and waited, even got one of the supervisors to organise a search party, but there was no sign of her anywhere. She just vanished!"
Ty felt two conflicting emotions rise in his chest—concern and excitement. He wanted the girl found safe and sound as soon as possible, that was his immediate priority, but it was darn nice to have something to do again. "Has anyone else gone missing?" he asked.
SL shook his head. "Not as far as I know. Oh, Ranger, what do you think has happened to her? Do you think she's alright?"
Ty shrugged and looked to King Nova. "Your Highness, any thoughts? Are there wild animals in those jungles? Anything that might snatch her?"
"Hmm," mused Nova, stroking his chin. "There are some large beasts in the jungle, but all the most dangerous ones in this region were hunted out by the Grounders long ago. The surface is not a place for a child to go wandering, certainly, but I can't see her being mauled by any savage creatures."
"Could it be Grounders, then?"
SL's eyes widened in horror. "What would the Grounders want with my little girl?"
"A good question indeed," said Nova. "The Grounders are many things, but they aren't usually kidnappers."
Ty turned to SL. "And there's no chance your daughter could've just run away?"
"I, I suppose— No, I don't think so. She wouldn't do that. I'm sure she wouldn't."
"So, basically, we have no idea what could've happened to her." Ty sighed. "Well, I'll look into it. Don't worry, Mr. SL2, I'll get your daughter back, I promise."
"What's the status on our forward pulse cannons?"
"Pulse cannons at full power, Your Evilness!"
Zurg nodded to the Grub, then shifted his view to a different station. "Main shields?"
"Online and fully operational, Your Malevolence!"
"Good, good. Tactical, how are our targeting scanners?"
"In perfect alignment, my Evil Emperor."
A Brain Pod approached him from beneath the suspended throne. "All systems are operating at peak efficiency," he assured Zurg. "The fleet is ready."
"It doesn't hurt to double check." The emperor steepled his talons. "We cannot afford a single mistake. I'm not going to lose this battle because one of you quivering lackwits got a piece of gum stuck in a power conduit."
He let his eyes drift out to the stars. They were so close now. Soon they would cross into Capital Planet's solar system, sweeping past the warning beacons that would alert Star Command they were there—beacons which no longer served any purpose. Star Command knew full well they were coming. Everyone in the galaxy knew. He could almost taste their terror, and it was delicious.
"We've received the final status update from Agent Darkmatter," informed one of the Grubs. "He says everything's going according to schedule."
"Good. Tell him to maintain radio silence from now on."
It was all coming together, like the photons in a Sperlingian energy mosaic. Everything he'd planned and meticulously set up, every little detail he'd spent months working out—it was all about to pay off. Now that the moment drew near, he felt strangely numb. Almost underwhelmed. His emotions were often like a knife, quick and sharp, but this time they seemed blunted. Perhaps he instinctively knew they might get in the way and hinder him during battle, so he'd shut them off. Or perhaps he didn't dare feel anything until he stood within the hallowed chambers of the Galactic Senate at last, and watched the cowering politicians surrender their every breath and freedom to him.
Perhaps part of him was still afraid of failing.
"ETA ten minutes," one of the Brain Pods reported. "The fleet is in formation, all ships reporting normal, weapons fully charged."
Zurg nodded. There was nothing to fear—he'd planned it all too well. He couldn't lose.
No, he snarled inside his head. That was always your mistake, wasn't it? Thinking you're invincible. Well, you're not. The universe has hammered that lesson into you often enough. He winced as every failure, every humiliating defeat flashed before his eyes. Don't just assume your victory. Ensure it.
He would. There would be no retreats this time, no surrenders. He would win or he would die—settling for anything less was unacceptable.
The streets of Capital Planet were almost as empty in the morning as they'd been at night, and the quiet was somehow more deafening than the usual rush of people and traffic. It was a strange journey through them, marching slowly down the once-bustling roads in his gleaming white-and-green uniform. At first the few onlookers hadn't said a word, then some had started to approach, coming out of shops and from all corners of the open walkway, hesitantly forming a circle that would part whenever the famed Ranger reached its edge.
Buzz felt his cheeks grow red as people stopped to shake his hand or called out words of encouragement to him. A hunched woman told him, her voice croaky with age, that the people of Capital Planet had never been prouder of him, and that they knew he would keep them safe from the likes of Zurg. He'd offered her a weak smile in return. She reminded him a little of Nana, somehow, which just made it worse.
A group of alien youths stopped him and asked enthusiastically if there was anything they could do to help. It seemed they wanted to get in on the fight. He told them in the stern voice he used to lecture rebellious new recruits that the best thing they could do for him would be to go home and hide in their basements until it was all over. It wasn't the answer they were looking for, but he had bigger concerns than the disappointment of a few teenagers.
He was grateful when he finally escaped the throng and reached the shuttlepad, where a Star Command ship was waiting for him. The trip to the space station was brief; he left the city beneath him and raced through the blackness of space, concentrating solely on piloting the craft. The time for letting his thoughts wander was over. He had to keep his mind on the task that lay ahead. When he approached Star Command, he hailed them to let them know he was coming in, and the launch bay doors opened for him.
Once he'd settled the craft on a small landing bay inside, he rose from his seat and jumped out the hatch. A loud commotion greeted him, and he watched as Rangers and LGMs ran back and forth across the walkways, making their final preparations for the battle that was fast approaching. The LGMs were always diligent workers, but there was a desperate sense of urgency to their movements now. They checked over cruisers, inspected Star Command's systems, and conferred with each other in hushed tones, all while heavy boots rushed past their short figures. The Space Rangers were frantically assembling themselves on the pad, and after searching through the crowd for a moment, Buzz spied his rookies.
He crossed one of the catwalks to them, receiving a few salutes as he pushed through the other Rangers.
"Mira, Booster, XR." He nodded to his team, taking a place beside them.
"Sir," they greeted in return. They looked too stiff, too formal. Suddenly Buzz felt a deep longing for the old days, when they could board the cruiser together to go on a routine patrol, laughing and bantering without a care in the universe.
"Alright, folks, listen up." The clink of Nebula's pegleg echoed throughout the room as he paced in front of them. "Today's a difficult day, both for Star Command and for the Galactic Alliance. Zurg's gonna hit us on our own turf, and it's our job to stop that purple bucket-head once and for all, before any more civilians get hurt. It won't be easy, and I won't lie, some of you probably aren't coming back from this. But I know you'll make me proud. And know this too—I'm not gonna send you kids out there while I sit on my keister here on Star Command, safe and snug. No sir, I'll be fighting right along with you. Ranger Lightyear will still be in command of the fleet, while I'll be coordinating things with the alien armadas. Many of the Alliance's member worlds have graciously lent their ships to us, but their people aren't used to following Star Command orders, so I'll deal with all that side of things. You'll all get your orders straight from Buzz. Understood?"
A loud cry of "yes, sir!" filled the room.
Nebula nodded. "Good. You lot are the best and bravest people I've ever had the honour of working with. I have faith in every one of you. So let's go out there and do this!"
The Rangers all nodded and shouted their assent, and Buzz found himself caught up in a mad rush as everyone made for the cruisers. His three rookies followed him up the ramp to 42, and Buzz took a deep breath as he eyed his faithful ship from below one last time, then began clambering up the ladder to the hatch.
There was a feeling of deja vu as they settled into their places inside the cockpit. He remembered the last battle, and had to force the thoughts from his mind. This time will be different.
As soon as the pre-flight checks were complete and he'd received permission to take off, his fingers clenched around the throttle and he thrust it forward. A surge of power shuddered through the ship as the crystallic engines came to life, and the cruiser pulled away from the pad, shooting through the open hatch above and into empty space.
"Alright, Team, this is it," Buzz announced, more for his own benefit than theirs. "This ends today." His finger flipped on the comm switch. "All cruisers, move into assigned positions in the defensive perimeter. Keep your weapons fully charged and have targeting scanners standing by. Zurg'll be here any minute, so let's be ready for him."
It wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but Ty found himself delightfully energised, the adrenaline flowing through his body as he pushed his way through the dense undergrowth of the Tangean jungle. Mud squelched beneath his boots, and he had to constantly swipe insects away from his face. But at least he was finally doing something.
Using his suit's inbuilt scanners, he'd been able to track Savy's progress far more effectively than the previous search party had, but the deeper into the jungle he got, the weaker the trail became. If he didn't reach her soon, he feared it would fade out entirely and he'd be back to square one.
His forehead was now hot and sticky, and probably covered in dirt from the leaves which kept slapping against him. He tried not to think about what deadly, undiscovered diseases might be lurking and breeding in the muggy environment. Of course, he could put his helmet up, but it would only get smeared in grime and fogged up by the humidity. Besides, he kind of liked the faint floral smells which wafted through the trees. He'd never been one of those tree-hugging hippy types—his early years had been spent on a space station colony, where the only plants he saw grew in the hydroponics bay or in dusty corners as sad little pot plants people got to brighten up a room and then forgot to water—but even he could appreciate the beauty of the Tangean surface. He wondered why the Royals were so frightened of it. It explained a lot about them, he supposed; if you spent your whole life closed off in a stuffy palace, you were bound to become a bit stuffy and close-minded yourself.
He stumbled over a dead, rotting branch lying on the ground and had to grab a weedy sapling to steady himself. The foliage was growing more dense, and it was getting harder to slip himself through the gaps in the undergrowth. Probably not an issue for a teenage kid like Savy or a Grounder who could blast their own path, but for a fully-grown man encumbered beneath a bulky suit it was hell. Still better than pacing around the palace though, he thought with half a grin.
His wrist emitted a loud beep. Pausing beside the trunk of a tree, Ty flipped open the display. The scanner had stopped registering Savy's trail. Blast. He sighed and looked around. There was no sign anyone had even been that way, let alone clues pointing to what direction they might've taken. She hadn't been following a straight line, so there was no telling when she might have turned off and taken a different path.
Straightening, Ty decided to try the slim chance she might still be in the area. "Savy!" he called at the top of his lungs, cupping his hands to his mouth. "SAVY! SAVY SL2!"
A few birds twittered angrily, but otherwise there was no reply. Either she was long gone, or she didn't want to answer. If it was the latter, that meant she'd deliberately run away, making the task of finding her that much harder.
"SAVY!" he called one last time, then leaned against the tree trunk to catch his breath. Suddenly, the click of a weapon primed to fire sounded just behind him, barely audible but enough to make him whirl around, his hand instinctively on his wrist trigger.
The barrel of a blue powitzer met him, shoved right in his face. He levelled his own arm at whoever was threatening him. There was a brown finger on the gun's trigger, half covered in dark leather.
"You're a Space Ranger?" The gun lowered slightly, revealing the puzzled face of a Grounder. He was clad in a rough, blue leather outfit which looked more suited to the streets of Trade World than a Tangean forest, and his eyes were fixed uncertainly on Ty.
"Ranger Ty Parsec at your service," Ty announced with a sardonic edge. "You, uh, mind pointing that thing somewhere other than at me?"
"Sorry." The Grounder seemed to make up his mind about something, and let the hand with the gun drop to his side. "You can't be too careful these days."
"Tell me about it." Ty kept his own weapon trained on the other man. "I don't suppose you could tell me what you're doing here?"
The Grounder smirked. "Last time I checked, my people lived on this surface and Space Rangers didn't, so I should be asking you that question."
"I was sent to Tangea to look after the evacuees." Ty tilted his head. "Funny, you don't look like you're from around these parts."
"Very perceptive." Still grinning, the Grounder leaned comfortably against the tree. "Name's Romac. You're right, I'm a bit of a nomad—I go where the business is. But with everything that's been happening lately, the galaxy just isn't as safe as it used to be. So I thought I'd come home for awhile."
Ty shrugged. "Another evacuee, then? Okay, fair enough." He lowered his arm, but kept his muscles tensed, ready to spring into action. His instincts told him that however friendly this man appeared, he wasn't the kind of person you turned your back on. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about a missing kid, would you? Human, female, seventeen years old. Disappeared a few hours ago."
"Is that what you're looking for?" Romac folded his arms. "I wondered why you were out here. Sorry, I haven't seen her. I can tell you this, though—you and she aren't the only outworlders to visit the jungle today."
Ty raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I didn't exactly come out here for my health," admitted Romac. "There were rumours back in the village, something about an offworlder looking for mercenaries. Here's the thing about my people, Ranger—we're not the violent thugs everyone thinks we are. Believe it or not, most of us only use our powers for hunting food or clearing farmland. But the reputation stuck, so a lot of us figured hey, why not take advantage of it? That's why if you're looking for hired muscle or someone to track down your enemies, you get a Grounder." He rubbed one of his boots against the tree, scraping mud from the heel like he had all the time in the world to waste. There was a casualness to him that told Ty the man was used to being in control. "Maybe that's not a good thing, but if it helps us make our way in the galaxy, who am I to complain?" Romac continued. "So anyway, someone came here looking to hire a few mercs. A few of the guys in the village were interested, and I caught wind of where they were meeting. So I decided to check it out..."
"What's your interest in all this?" Ty interrupted.
The Grounder flashed him another smile, his yellow teeth glistening. "Professional interest, I guess. I like to keep up with current events—all part of the job."
"Which is?"
"Let's just say I'm not a social worker," Romac chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, I keep to the right side of the law, when it's convenient. But I can't say the same for all of my clients."
"Bounty hunter?"
The Grounder nodded. "I figured there might be a job opportunity somewhere in all this, so I came here. Unfortunately, when I arrived, the meeting place was already deserted. There were signs of a struggle, though, and traces of recent laser fire. Whatever happened, I missed out on quite a party. Funny thing is," he added, rubbing his neck, "I found a set of smaller footprints beside the others, and it didn't make sense to me until you mentioned that kid."
Ty leaned forward. "You think she was there?"
"Could be."
Now he was starting to get somewhere. Had Savy stumbled onto something she shouldn't have? "Take me there," Ty told the Grounder. "I need to check this out."
Capital Planet's solar system was a familiar one to him. Oh, they liked to think they were safe in the centre of their little alliance, but how many times had he been here already? How many times had he set foot on their shining capital? Zurg had struck at the heart of the Galactic Alliance before, and even snuck in when it suited him. But those times felt like mere dress rehearsals now. This... this was the real thing.
He was seated in his throne, high above the bridge, with his hands resting neatly on each armrest. He looked elegant, imposing, threatening... or so he liked to think, at least. He wasn't sure if he'd achieved such an image, but he hoped so. Not that it mattered, since there was no one to see him up there, but appearances were everything. He had to look ready.
Their target was in view now. He felt his breath catch as his eyes fell on the blue-green orb which represented everything he opposed and everything he hoped to win. All the others had fallen—Rhizome, Jo-Ad, and most recently Trade World. But Capital Planet still stood free.
Well, he would see about that.
A blockade surrounded the planet, made up of hundreds of vessels—far more than had met his fleet at Jo-Ad. They were not all star cruisers. Just as his sources had informed him, Star Command was supplementing their forces with as many ships as the Alliance could cobble together. Shragarakian blade ships, Phlegmian cruisers, Garzanian fighters. He even spotted a few Tangean vessels in the mix. For a moment he felt goosebumps tingle over his skin as he wondered if perhaps it would not be such a sure victory after all. Then he quelled those fears, remembering all he'd planned. He'd prepared for this eventuality just like every other—counted on it, even. He was not rushing headlong into this attack like a fool.
The stars outside twinkled, as if space itself were rippling with energy. The tension felt as palpable as the metal beneath his hands, perhaps even more so. Searching amongst the fleet, his gaze landed upon the ship he was looking for—that familiar cruiser bearing the accursed number 42 in bold lettering, the vessel carrying his arch nemesis, Buzz Lightyear of Star Command. Arch nemesis—now there was an amusing thought. Once he would have laughed at the idea of arch enemies and deadly feuds; all that was so cliche, the sort of thing you found in cheap holovids. Reality didn't work like that. Ordinary people didn't have arch enemies. But ordinary people also didn't wage war on a galactic scale or control vast empires. That was the heart of it—he wasn't ordinary, and neither was Lightyear, though the man might pretend to be. They were something, larger, grander, champions of great universal forces themselves. Lightyear would have called it a clash of Good versus Evil. Zurg preferred Evil versus Morality. There was a difference.
And when you played such a great role, things like arch enemies didn't seem so out of place; they were almost to be expected. The reason such things were turned into laughable cliches was because the rest of the universe, so mundane and unimportant, simply couldn't imagine them actually existing. To them, life was a boring affair filled with working in offices, taking children to school, paying the bills, and eagerly reading about what Vicki Vortex had worn to the annual Rhizomian Charity Ball.
Lightyear tried to live that life, but even Zurg could see it was not who his foe really was. The man would never be content as just another person in the vast sea of nobodies that made up the universe. He was Buzz Lightyear, pride of Star Command and the galaxy's greatest hero. That was who he was born to be. They may have opposed each other in the most fundamental ways possible, but Zurg was certain he understood his enemy more intimately than anyone else ever could.
Staring out at that cruiser, he knew he could feel the Space Ranger's tension matching his own. The apprehension, the anticipation of the fight. He knew the man was looking straight at his ship too, thinking the same thoughts.
One thing separated them, however. Buzz Lightyear could never betray his own nature. It was what made him so predictable. He could only ever be the hero, the saviour, the Space Ranger.
Zurg had learned long ago to play many different roles. Not all of them worked, but he knew it was necessary. You had to keep them guessing. Never be the person they think you are. That had been his big mistake in the past—he'd allowed himself to fall into a rut. But no more. Lightyear would find this out soon enough.
He shifted in his throne, leaning forward. His minions below looked up expectantly. The bridge was uncharacteristically hushed.
"Open fire," he ordered.
A/N: Twenty chapters already, wow! Sure is a lot quicker posting this than it was to write.
We get a quick cameo by Rocket's brother in this chapter, who is totally made up (though based on one of the background Rangers we see in the show, as are all the Ranger OCs in this story), but someone I'm quite fond of. My friend Alexa and I came up with a ton of backstory for his team long ago - I don't even remember why - so I couldn't help including him here. You'll see a little more of Team Vok later, so now you know the history behind them.
The big battle has finally arrived. Expect plenty of action next chapter!