Inside the corridor of the Hyperion Moon Base, a rhythmic click echoed. A pair of silver stiletto heels carries a woman in white toward the conference room. The sterile white lights that illuminate the corridor give her business suit an almost ethereal glow. The woman reaches a door at the end of the corridor. A black nameplate is mounted to the right of the steel door. The sign reads "Conference Room 212" in bold white letters. The woman turns the handle and enters the room.
The woman's gaze falls upon a man at the far end of an oval metal table. Flanking the man on either side is a pair of burly Hyperion security guards. The thin man appears as frail as piece of scored glass. The woman moves toward the chair at her side of the table. Her elegant stride makes her appear to glide across the grey metal floor. The clicking of her stiletto heels is the only evidence to the contrary. As she sits down, she blew some loose strands of her silvery hair from her right eye. She stare a moment at the man with her pale blue grey eyes. Then her mouth curled in a half smile. The small diamond piercing above her lip glimmered in the rooms light.

"Bodyguards? Mr. Thompson, you merely the Vice President of Hyperion Corporation. I wouldn't waste my time killing a nobody like you." The woman said. Her mouth curls into a half smile. The small diamond piercing above her lip glimmers in the room's light.

Mr. Thompson's eyes narrowed. "So why is a representative of the Jacob's Corporation here to see me?"

"I am here to negotiate the sale of Hyperion Corporation to Jacobs." The woman said as she folds her hands atop her crossed legs.

Mr. Thompson tilts his head slightly and taps his pen on the tabletop. "The Jacobs Corporation deals in a limited selection of firearms and munitions. What interest would Hyperion be to you?

"Unlike my predecessors, I understand the value of expansion. Jacobs Corporation is under new management. Mine. The acquisition of Hyperion will be the beginning of my Legacy."

Mr. Thompson looked over the rim of his glasses. "You're predecessors?"

The woman placed the fingers of her left hand across her lips to stifle her laugh. "Oh Mr. Thompson, did you believe I was a secretary or something. My dear man, you are addressing the President of the Jacobs Corporation."

"Well Ms. President, I regret to inform you, Hyperion is not for sale." Mr. Thompson said as he placed the pen down onto the table and folded his hands.

The President of Jacobs Corp. cleared her throat. "Let me blunt, Mr. Thompson. Hyperion Corporation's profit margin has plummeted since the death of your CEO, Handsome Jack. It makes no difference if you sell it to me now or in a year's time. Sooner or later Hyperion will be mine, now or after bankruptcy. The only difference will be whether you have a job or not."

"Then perhaps a little Quid Pro Quo is in order Ms. President."

"How so Mr. Thompson?"

"Find us the 'Jack-Slayer' on Pandora and bring that piece of garbage to justice and I'll discuss a merger with the Jacobs Corporation."

"My word, is that all?"

Mr. Thompson ignored the sarcastic tone in her voice and continued. "We'd also like you to use one of ours in this task, Agent 71."

The Jacobs President raised her eyebrow. "Why not simply send this Agent 71 yourself?"

"Think of this as a gesture of diplomacy for the Jacobs Corporation." Thompson said with a smirk.

The woman laughed. "Sounds more like you're too broke to pay for the agent's servicing fees to me."

"Do you agree to the arrangement or not?" Thompson said his voice given away his clear irritation.

"Very well" She replied with a sigh.

Agent 71 was seated at the piloting station of his small spacecraft. His feet rested atop the control panel. He flipped through the pages of Mr. Torgue's Catalogue of Carnage. A beep rang out from a board on the pilot's console. His green eyes peered over the top of the magazine. A red light flashed on the pilot's board just right of the main throttle. He was receiving an ECHO Transmission.

"Finally, another payday is on the way."

He swept his feet off the console. Dropping the magazine on the floor, Agent 71 opened the transmission. The person that appeared on the screen was not one he expected. Agent 71 was staring at a silver haired woman in a white business suit on the ECHO screen.

"Who are you? How did you get this secure frequency?"

Relax Agent 71. My name is Kali. I'm here at the behest of the Hyperion Corporation.

"Then why am I talking to you and not them?"

Quite frankly, it's because I am the one footing the bill for their contract.

He simply stared into her blue grey eyes. The air around his lips became stale from the length of his silence.

The woman allowed the silence to linger a bit more then smiled in the screen.

I am sending you the Hyperion Authorization Code to prove the validity of my statement.

A bunch of numbers flashed along the bottom of the ECHO screen. His ECHO highlighted the numbers in green. His ECHO transceiver had verified that code was legitimate.

"So, what's the job?" Agent 71 said as he rubbed the beard stubble on the bottom of his chin.

Simple. Go to Pandora. Find whoever killed Handsome Jack and bring the murderer to justice.

"Dead or Alive?"

That is entirely at your discretion, as far as I'm concerned. However, Hyperion has offered to pay triple your fee if the murderer is brought back alive. It seems they'd like the pleasure of killing the 'Jack-slayer' themselves.

"I'll take the job. I'll contact you when I reach Pandora."

I look forward to hearing from you Agent 71.

The screen went off. Agent 71 stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes fixated on the scar that ran from his temple, down past his eye to rest at his cheek bone. Agent 71 began typing into his navigational computer. He plotted a course for Pandora and then set the system on automatic pilot. He walked out of the cockpit into the cargo area.

A small cot was setup against the left wall. He crawled onto the cot and stared at the ceiling running lights. This job didn't feel right to him. It was more than the fact that this Kali woman was running the show. His gut was telling him that he'd regret taking this job.

At least I won't be bored anymore. He thought to himself before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.