It's been an interesting day for Marcus. Between scaring off bandits looking for easy loot and setting up a new shop at the subterranean hub of Hollow Point, he was now in charge of entertaining his sister's adopted child while she worked shifts at the Purple Skag bar. A weapon's dealer turned out not to be the best place to rear a six year old as he came to realize that afternoon.
The shop was set up on the lower ground level with the wooden till facing the industrial flooring staircase descending from the entrance. Marcus, who could feel his aching joints under the slight extra weight that he carried stood there dutifully day, day out in his stained orange polo shirt and his crummy cargo pants and boots. He was writing in an ink ledger, picking at his golden tooth with the radio turned up slightly when he heard a glaring bang of shotgun shells from the storage room behind him.
"Oh shit. Here we go." He muttered in his Russian drawl and turned to the door behind him. On his hip, the weapons dealer switched on the shielding device which would deflect a limited amount of bullets. He hoped to reach his blithering excuse of a nephew before then. Inside the small boy peeped through his hideously uncombed, frizzy bangs and flashed him a huge gap-toothed smile. He was perched on an ammo crate with a sleek jet black and red-striped hefty shotgun twice his size.
"Hey Uncle Marcus! Look what I found! This shotgun is kickass! How come you always have such cool stuff in here?"
"Kid, one day you're really gonna get yourself killed. Would teach your ingrate of a mother a lesson. Give that here." Marcus growled as he carefully snatched the gun from the child's hands.
"Good for nothing brat, you had to go for the Conference Call. Now how… how did you get in the safe? That's locked up and all the best weapons… Oh no." The shopkeep's face went blank and he dashed towards the huge iron safe on the furthest wall. A quick inventory check and Marcus breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was there as he left it.
"Uncle Marcus, uncle Marcus. You promised me a story!" The boy whined and tugged at his hand.
Oh how he hated the kid. It's been three days and he had already managed to get into the storeroom twice, somehow thrown out food from the highest drawer in the fridge and nearly burned down the shop. Marcus threw him a poisonous glare and muttered.
"I'm not your mother kid. Go bother someone else."
"Please! PLEASEEE! You did so much cool stuff and I wanna hear everything! Especially the part where everything explodes!" The little brown haired boy gave him another smile.
"Alright alright, but let's go into the kitchen and have some pizza. I gotta close down for the night anyway."
"AW YEAH you're the coolest uncle ever." The kid dashed into the kitchen as Marcus pulled down the shutters on the till and headed up the stairs to lock down. The last evening light was upon Hollow Point. Marcus looked out into the massive cavern that a few thousand people called home. In the centre was a great subterranean lake with wooden bridges connecting the various parts of the city. The buildings were all made of wood or tin and all in ramshackle condition. Marcus sighed and thought of the great cities he had lived in as a child all wrought in steel and glass with towers that reached hundreds of storeys into the sky. This was the penance for living on Pandora, one of the borderworlds in the six galaxies colonized by man. It was still wild and untamed with countless opportunities for men and women to find their fortune, become powerful or die in the process. Hollow point was benign enough as cities on this planet went. Rough folk and a smattering of bandits inhabited the houses here, but it was much better than some of the other places out there and he always had well paying customers. The rest just didn't make it back out of the shop.
The shopkeep turned back into his shop and brought down the shutters in the front. His sister would probably spend the night at some drunken lecher's house again. The boots clanged on the steps and Marcus reached the kitchen where the kid had heated the pizza and laid out two mismatched glasses of milk on the grimy table. The kid might have been stupid, but his enthusiasm was infectious. The shopkeep tousled the boy's hair and settled in on the opposite side.
"So... You want to hear a story, eh? One about treasure hunters? Haha, have I got a story for you! Pandora... This is our home. But make no mistake - this is not a planet of peace and love. They say it's a wasteland; that it's dangerous, that only a fool would search for something of value here. Then perhaps I am a fool. But do not be fooled by what Pandora appears to be. There was a legend... Many people tell it. The legend of the Vault. My father would always go on about the Vault; even with his dying breath. Advanced alien technology. Infinite wealth. Fame. Power. Women. So you can understand why some little kiddos who hear the stories grow up to become Vault hunters. Well, I have a story you may not believe. But I tell you it is true. The legend of the Vault is real! And it is here on Pandora. And a... let's call her a 'guardian angel', appeared to guide the Vault hunters to their prize. The tale begins right here on Pandora, with the brave Vault hunters, the guardian angel and most importantly, me..."