AN: Honestly, I was nearly overwhelmed by the response the first chapter got. It's about time I updated this, right? Big shout-out to the following people, whose support is really appreciated: BigbyWolf, Cisforcrazy, Dragonsoul1, Granded, HusbandoGoddess, Lord-of-Walruses, MussoTheMino, krazyfanfictionfan, redxkiller45, Aven the BattleMage, BounceQ, DarkBlight, EinIII, Harbinger the Reaper, Lapras Lazuli, Patient131071, Ta'raysholan, Trifectum, pro2type, sbucks1998, xQEAx, turn forever you and me, Handsome Rhys and John . Smith69.
You guys are awesome! Now onto the story itself!
"How would you like to go Vault-hunting again?"
Rhys froze, face pinched with confusion, then he spluttered out a laugh and shook his head. "Fi, opening a single Vault in one lifetime is enough for me. I mean, I'd given up keeping count of how many damn times I almost died."
Fiona gave a shrug. "Eh, it's practically a rite of passage. Part of the thrill of being a Vault Hunter, I guess."
"I think I'll stick to reestablishing Atlas."
"And so far you've had a lot of success. Believe me, I noticed. Like all your lackeys swarming you, your own throne, the personal death ray..."
The beanpole pulled a glare. "It doesn't happen that fast. Stuff like this takes time."
"Rhys, I wouldn't come for your annoying ass unless I didn't have a choice." Fiona's voice took on a sharp tone, which jolted Rhys out of his sudden irritation aimed at the Pandoran.
"...So what's up? You need my help or something?"
Fiona placed her hands on her hips. "Not really. But I was told to come get you. So I need you to come with me."
"O-kay, that sounded menacing." Rhys began backing away, palms up. "Friendships lose their meaning quick, heh heh..."
"Relax, idiot. Just hear me, okay?"
He paused, studying her closely. "Guess I kinda overreacted..."
"You did. It actually looked pretty dumb."
"Gee, thanks, Fiona. Glad to know I can always rely on you for positive feedback."
"Look, I know you don't call yourself a Vault-Hunter but... you are one."
"I'm really not."
"Not everyone agrees with your assessment."
"Like who?"
"The Crimson Raiders. You're being sought after by them."
"I don't get why a buncha bandits think I'm a badass Vault Hunter all of a sudden."
"Ego taking a trip there, Atlas? Point is, I was ordered to bring you to Sanctuary."
A sigh. "And if I don't go with you?"
Fiona smiled grimly. "Someone else will come, and they won't really give a shit what you think, Atlas." The original idea had been for a squad of Vault Hunters and Raiders to accompany Fiona, but she had successfully convinced Lilith into letting her go a different route.
Turning away from Fiona, Rhys rubbed his temples and shut his eyes. "This is literally the fucking worst," he moaned, clenching his fists. He was being conscripted into a Vault-Hunter... army, squad whatever and he was going to be dragged away from Atlas.
Fiona folded her arms and smirked at the suit. "Knowing you, you'll somehow gain something from this little excursion. You slimy corporate types always find a way." Her words were laced with admiration- though genuine or otherwise, Rhys couldn't tell.
Rhys's gaze fell to his dark boots. Things never went his way so easily. Shortly after he got to be CEO of Atlas, a forceful reminder came telling he was only part of a bigger shitstorm that was Pandora. Maybe there was something to gain from this. He glanced at the prototype resting a stone's throw from him. Maybe...
He turned to Fiona, determination cast in his features. "Off to visit your Vault Hunter pals, then, since I don't have a choice."
"Definitely wouldn't have had a choice if I decided to knock you out and drag you through the snow."
Rhys's face went slack with shock. He stared. "Right. Because that's what friends do to each other. Except not at the same time, 'cause that would be impossible."
She cheerily replied, "Would have saved you the effort of walking, at least."
"I don't recall optimism being your thing, Fi. Anyway, before we go, I got a gift for you. Made it myself, actually." Rhys strode over to Fiona, lifting up what looked to be an SMG coated in vermillion. He presented it to her, rambling nervously as she inspected it. Its hollow stock, drum magazine and laser pointer were parts of a gun surprisingly lighter than she assumed prior to gripping it herself. She mentioned this to Rhys.
"I call it 'the Working Class'. Tagline: a classy gun for classy people."
He sounded so proud of that one deed, it was nearly amusing. But Fiona didn't require any additions to her arsenal. "Uh, Rhys, I'm a Vault Hunter. I've got a crapton of guns already, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." He sagged at the realisation, and his reaction caused something inside her to twist painfully. "Kinda redundant then, isn't it?"
On second thought, maybe she could humour him. "It wouldn't hurt giving it a shot, so I'll take it. Thanks."
He cheered up after that. "You're welcome. Test this model out, give some first impressions, ya know the deal? You can be my first weapons tester, actually."
Fiona eyed the Working Class with caution, hesitation evident in her slow movements. "It better not blow up in my hands."
"It won't, not unless you want it to."
"Not funny, Atlas."
Cowering behind the remains of a Techinical while bandits on wheels zoomed by was not funny. The screams of Psychos filled the night sky and gunfire roared all around Rhys. Fiona was nearby, teeth gritted as she unleashed hell on their attackers with an Atlas Silver. A sickening squelch rang out and blood splattered onto the dunes.
Another bandit bit the dust.
Fiona ducked before her shield wore out. Rhys tried not to shriek too shrilly (he failed) when a midget Psycho rushed him, waving its axe manicly. "Crunch the baby's teeth! You're gonna be my spine-scratcher!"
"Gah-hyaagh! Not the face, not the face!" Shouted Rhys into the mask belonging to the nutcase that got him pinned. From the corner of his eye he saw a burst of fire and the psycho convulsed before collapsing on top of him. Rhys shoved the corpse off and crouched, horror on his face.
"Dammit, Rhys, help me out," Fiona snarled, slamming a new clip into her SMG.
"I don't have a shield!"
She tossed Rhys a Tediore, which he caught with shaky hands. "Now you do!" Fiona rose up and sprayed bullets everywhere, taking down several bandits. A Technical revved behind her, and she glimpsed the spinning minigun. Shit. They were completely exposed. "Run!"
They made a mad dash for cover while a haze of hot lead and sand kicked up behind them. The bandits laughed. Fiona grunted as she felt the shield absorb every blow, and Rhys was panting almost right in her ear. The Technical leapt up over the dunes, about to mow them down.
Fiona desperately flung herself out of the way of the illuminating headlights and rolled to the right. She grabbed her hat before it got blown away by the blur that was the bandit vehicle. She glanced over, Rhys was coughing and spitting out sand, crouched like she was. "Are you purposefully trying to get me killed?!" he yelled at her before he yelped at the incoming barrage of turret fire and started running again.
"What? No, you idiot!"
"Then why the fuck did you lead me to a bandit camp?"
"It's coincidence, Rhys! This just happened to be-" She rolled aside, snapped her sights onto a charging Psycho and wasted him promptly. "-on the way!" This was true.
Rhys swung his Stun Baton and batted away another one. It sailed through the air, crying out for "strips of flesh for my meat bycicle!" till it landed on the hood of a speeding death machine.
"Well, I guess it's a coincidence that your sense of direction is shit, Fiona! You coulda driven us to anywhere but the place where psychos are screaming and people are dying." Ironically, Rhys and Fiona were the main reason for both. Because on Pandora, screaming and dying were quite the infamous pair.
"Your sense of timing for when to bitch at me sucks, Rhys," shouted Fiona. "Now quit whining and fight like a real warmonger."
"Yeah, with what!? I don't have a gun!"
Fiona actually lowered her Atlas Silver momentarily and rolled her eyes at the Atlas CEO. This proved to be a mistake, as it was an opportunity to get the drop on Fiona. A Psycho grabbed her shoulders and a second one leapt onto her back. "Get off me, you little shits!" the Vault-Hunter growled.
She drove her knee into the topless bandit's crotch, causing him to emit a low groan and stumble away. The mass of loud insanity sitting on Fiona's shoulders got violently pulled down and she finished them both off with her blazing SMG.
"Dammit, you do have a gun! Now stop being retarded and use it!"
Rhys paused, mouth wide and wearing a questioning look. "Oh, yeah. I do." A Technical came roaring at him and Rhys pulled up the Zapper's long barrel. It hummed as it powered up, and electric currents were expelled at the bandit vehicle, shocking all four occupants. They convulsed for a couple seconds and then slumped over. The Technical shortly exploded, sending chunks of bandit and metal in every direction.
A flaming tyre collided with Rhys, and he was thrown backwards by the force caused. He groaned, lying in the sand. Fiona hovered over him, a dorky grin on her face. She crouched near Rhys. "Okay, that was kind of cool."
He sat up instantly. "Help a guy up, pretty please?"
She took hold of his hand and his bicep and pulled him up. "Cheers." Just then, a Loader Bot dropped next to them.
"...Loader Bot?" asked Fiona.
Its red optic swivelled as it stared at them. "Hostility undetected. Treat with caution."
Over the hill, bandits of all sizes came rushing towards them. "Kill the robot thing and the meat puppets!"
The BUL Loader readied its gattling gun. "Bandits imminent."
"Yeah, no shit, buddy," Rhys muttered. He wiped the saliva off his chin with his left sleeve. The towering robot surged forward, and proceeded to make short work of its attackers.
Fiona and Rhys watched in awe as bits of Psycho splashed onto the sand and masks were shattered and eager shrieks echoed all around. The Loader Bot was a literal storm of death.
"Ever get the idea that we're not the main targets?"
"Yeah, I've been getting that vibe. They're not trying hard enough to kill us," decided Fiona.
Rhys choked out, "Not trying hard enough?! You know what'd be even better? If they didn't try at all!"
A piercing cry passed that was heard by everybody. Fiona tensed while Rhys winced.
"Hooded Bandit!"
Not far from Rhys and Fiona, a masked figure was fighting for his life. He wore a tattered hood over his head, with goggles and a scarf obscuring his face.
"YOU'RE INVITED TO A SKIN PIZZA PARTY! What's on the menu? YOUR FACE!"
A hail of bullets drilled through the Psyho's skull and he collapsed. The Hooded Bandit tucked himself behind a row of jagged rocks that were overlooked by the edge of a cliff. "Persistant little bastards," HB muttered, reloading.
"Hooded Bandit!"
He peeked over the top of his cover. Out in the open, was a mohawk-sporting Psycho dancing atop a thundurous Bandit Technical, with his army of degenerates at his beck and call.
"I'm gonna skin your bones and make soup with your organs for screwing me over! Organ soup for everyone!"
"That's a shitty choice in cuisine if you ask me, but whatevs. Look man, if you want a refund, that's cool." He took aim with his combat rifle. He wasn't spotted yet, luckily.
"The fuck's a refund?"
HB emptied his clip into the horde of Psychos. Several of them flopped over like ragdolls and the mohawk psycho jumped up and down, enraged.
HB grinned against the fabric of his snug scarf. He frowned when he noticed the Loader Bot nearby standing stock still. "Why haven't you gone on a murder-rampage yet, huh?"
"Power: Insufficient. Low energy. Therefore: zero fucks given," was the deep, monotone reply.
"Arrgh!" He struck its armour-plated thigh with the butt of his rifle. A futile attempt to damage it. "Useless Hyperion trashcan!"
HB heard the revving get louder and louder. He'd been discovered. Shit.
Meanwhile, Fiona and Rhys were facing troubles of their own. That BUL Loader that dispersed death in the wasteland minutes ago? It got mauled apart by grabby bandit hands and five well-aimed rocket blasts. So no bullet-sponge for them anymore.
They rushed across the desert landscape. A rocket whistled past Rhys and he yelled as a tornado of sand erupted in front of him. Fiona spun around and returned fire. The familiar thud of corpses hitting the ground filled Rhys with something close to relief.
"There!" She pointed to a wall of desert stone. "We can use that as cover!"
They dived behind the jagged row of rocks. Imagine their surprise at finding an armed nomad hiding there.
"The hell?!" Fiona growled, pointing her SMG at the stranger who matched her stance. Rhys stepped out from behind Fiona. The masked figure quickly aimed at him. "Uh, guys, have you literally forgotten the death parade of nutjobs right next to us?!"
"Oh, right. Yeah. That." The stranger spoke in deep, menacing tones. They aimed their sights at the wave of attackers leaping over the rock wall. Fiona with her Atlas Silver, Rhys with his Zapper, and the stranger with his custom rifle obliterated the first of many hordes in a matter of minutes.
Fiona turned to the hooded stranger. "So I'm guessing you're that Hooded Bandit dude he keeps shrieking about?"
"What gave it away?" The Hooded Bandit drawled. "Was it the hood?"
"The fact they're all trying to murder your guts. You must be really popular with the local clans. Why's that the case?"
"A business transaction gone south."
Rhys checked on the hulking mecha which rotated towards him when he approached it. "Why isn't it doing anything? Loaders are usually way more killtacular..."
"This one's just a disobedient little shit."
"Running on low power, therefore-" The Loader Bot got cut off.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." HB waved dismissively. "Bastard really wants me to live. Before I caught it and reprogrammed it, it tried punching a hole through my chest. Repeatedly."
"We saw another one out there. It... well, we tried to save it." That never happened, Fiona.
"Ugh. Tyler's an absolute dickhead. So what if a Loader goes berserk and slaughters a couple of his men?"
Rhys called out, "Faulty circuitry?"
"Faulty circuitry."
"Tyler? Who's friggin' Tyler?" asked Fiona. She watched the newest wave of enemies closing in.
"Tyler the Tyrant, the leader of Tyler's Boyz. That's Boys with a zee," HB answered, cocking his weapon. He followed the Hat Lady's line of sight. Nutjobs on motorbikes sped towards their hiding spot, hooting and hollering in the night.
"Yeah, no, Tyler's gonna die. Just for that name. He deserves it. Especially if he is a tyrant," Fiona commented.
"So, we doing this team-up thing or what?"
"Yeah okay." She glanced behind her. "Rhys, you in? Rhys...?"
The aforementioned male was charging his electro-cannon, ready to shoot the stationary Loader Bot.
HB spun around, locked and loaded. He snarled as he targeted Rhys. "The fuck you think you're doing?"
A wide-eyed Rhys was staring at him. "I, uh, I..."
The desert nomad froze upon sensing the hot barrel of the Atlas Silver pressed against his skull. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned Fiona. "Rhys, what're you doing?"
"Well, I was going to give the Loader Bot a power boost before," he glared at the Hooded Bandit, "somebody threatened to shoot me."
"A power boost?"
"Yeah, with with my gun. I wasn't gonna damage the Loader or anything..."
"I don't really care about that. But, if you try to destroy it, the Loader will explode like a friggin' nuke. So yeah, that was my concern when I saw you aiming that thing at it." HB turned away. "Go ahead. Power up the Loader."
Rhys scratched the back of his neck. "I have another idea." Two pairs of eyes fell upon him. He hesitated. "Maybe if I take control of this Loader Bot, it'll last longer against the bandits."
"How?"
"I have some combat modules installed in my arm, Fiona. Weapons aren't the only thing I worked on."
HB pushed the stock of his rifle against his shoulder and propped one foot against the rocky protection shielding him, Fiona and Rhys. "Fine, you've got my blessing or whatever. Normally I'd do the remote controlling, but I figure I'm better at shooting than you, Rhysie."
Rhys blinked when HB tossed his head and he glimpsed a blue glow from behind one of the goggle's lenses. "An ECHOeye..."
"Just do your hacking thing, Rhys. We got you covered." Rhys gave her a thumbs-up and he got a smile in return. Feeling confident from Fiona's support, he fired up the Zapper. Energy surged through the inert robot and it clenched its fists. "Power reserves: high. Ready to: kick bandit ass."
"That's the spirit, buddy." Rhys opened up his palm and a hologram screen appeared. Muzzle fire flashed over the dunes and rocks, and Psycho cries rattled in his ear. He hacked into the robot's systems and synchronised his combat module with its chassis wiring. Now, he got to direct the Loader to do whatever he wanted. That included killing every single bandit in the vicinity.
Out of nowhere, a pair of Loader Bots sprouted beside the one that Rhys already hacked. "Woah, where did you fellas come from?"
"These robo-douches were probably hiding and waiting for me to get offed," HB suggested as he gunned down foes galore. "Isn't that right, guys?"
One Loader replied, "The urge to snap your neck is too great. Unfortunately, we are unable to act on our urges."
"Sheesh. It's a wonder they haven't killed you already," said Rhys.
"Got a safety measure I install in every bot that I hack and rejig. No matter how much they wanna kill me, they just can't," HB said gleefully. "Goes against their reprogramming. It's great!"
The Loaders flew into the sky and crashed into the desert, crushing several psychos. Blood jetted from pinwheeling limbs and torsos, splashing over faded Hyperion yellow. The bikers diverted and drove right into the robots. Their bikes exploded and the riders were thrown up. The BUL Loader, the GUN Loader and the WAR Loader were being circled by muscular crazies. Rhys formed a smirk and his neural port glowed and his ECHOeye shifted, turning gold. One Loader grabbed a wrecked motorbike and hurled it at a trio of bandits, who never survived the collision. The annihilation began in earnest the moment the Loaders deployed their weapons.
Fiona chose to go after Tyler the Tyrant, who was yelling from the top of a Technical. She equiped the Conference Call and was ready to pull the trigger as he suddenly dived at her. A shocking boom resounded in her ears and Tyler's riddled body gained airtime. It flopped onto the dunes. She stopped to rifle through Tyler's pockets and was able to procure mostly bloodied bills and some ammunition.
Nearby, the Loaders were wreaking havoc on the Psychos, causing a bloodbath one would consider monstrous on Pandora. When the last bandit was taken out, the field of bodies left was useful for mainly one thing-loot. Fiona and the Hooded Bandit raced to gather the most of it. Searching through pockets, patting down corpses, they were in their element now.
Rhys only nabbed a few shields, some cash, and a couple of weapons for himself. He wandered off, deep in his own thoughts. For a mere nomad, the so-called Hooded Bandit was capable of rewiring and reprgramming Hyperion Loaders. The fact he'd been able to subdue them was a noteworthy success of its own. He could use a man like him. Hyperion had never stooped to recruiting "filthy bandits" even after Handsome Jack's death, when everything had gone to shit. Even though Psychos had somehow managed to end up in various parts of Helios.
Atlas would be different. Bigger than Hyperion, better than Hyperion. He always promised himself that.
They found themselves a ride, a Technical which wasn't utterly scorched with bullets or had a flat tyre. Rhys voiced his idea to Fiona before they drove off.
"I thought corporations didn't hire Pandoran scum. And besides, you think you can trust that guy?"
Rhys shrugged. "I don't know. But I have to start hiring somewhere. It might as well be a bandit who does know something about tech."
"Right. And are you going to give every bandit you meet the same deal?"
"Well. Not the ones that are dead. Or insane." He gestured to the display behind him. "Not like those guys. They were crazy."
"I think, I think some of them were cannibals," Fiona remarked, looking grossed out.
"Euugh. Let's not discuss that," he said.
Fiona hopped into the driver's seat. "Fine, go up to him and talk it out. I'll be waiting in the car."
Rhys strolled towards the Hooded Bandit who was staring at the ground. He did not spare Rhys a glance. "'Sup?"
"I, um, wanted to say thanks. For... not shooting me and watching my back when I was controlling the-"
"I get it, you're grateful, whatever. Whaddaya want?"
"I never got your name."
"It's Yaeger. There, you happy? Now let's just go our seperate ways, okay? I'm getting sick of the smell of rotting flesh."
["Want to work for Atlas?"]
Or
["I think we're done here."]
AN: So there you go. As you have seen, the majority picked "Give Rhys the Offer". This was meant to be out way sooner but a whole bunch of different stuff kept holding me back. The main issue I had with the chapter itself was the flow of events, how much action was mixed with how much talking.
I'm happy with the overall result, though. Hopefully this was worth the wait!
So, do you want Rhys to give Yaeger a chance? Or maybe not? Leave your choice in a review. And in general, feel free to give constructive criticism. I like that as well.
Just to give the rough layout of what would have happened if Fiona aggressively persuaded Rhys:
She would have knocked him out. He would have waken up tied in the car. They would have had a shouting match and he would have been very pissed off at Fiona. Then they'd get ambushed by bandits and the rest of the chapter would proceed as you have read it. Overall, things would have gone very differently if the majority of reviewers had picked "aggressively persuade Rhys".
Thanks for reading!
