Author's Note: My apologies for the severe delay. I got caught up in real life stuff - there's a local writers group I've recently gotten published through as part of an anthology, so there were some events and stuff going on there. Then this week, I'm essentially doing two jobs, so... I'm tired. Really tired. I shouldn't even be writing this, but I did, so here you are. I skimped on description because I'm so stinking tired. And because the battle scene - well - the exciting bit has really happened with Zero saving Maya. So now we're back into absurd humor.

Jack was not renowned for his leadership qualities. His idea of motivational speeches involved grandstanding and mockery, and it was a struggle to get him to pay attention to anything long enough to sign on the dotted line. It seemed the only time he truly turned his mind to something was when he was either angry or particular ambitious. The former was dangerous, and that was what had focused Jack's attention in on the current situation. He stood in his office, alone, staring at the a viewscreen the size of one wall. A myriad of images was displayed upon it, narrower lists of data along the sides, various viewpoints from remote cameras, and the center was dominated by a satellite image of the data center's courtyard. Jack had gone quiet some time after the assault had started and now watched it, utterly still.

This, too, was unusual. He was not prone to being still, rather, moved constantly with a pent-up, furious energy.

"What the fuck are they after?" he finally spat.

"Unknown," Angel replied. She had found it was best to keep her voice as neutral and detached as possible in these times, when he was so poised. He was only one misstep away from violence – not the cruel, casual kind he was prone to. True savagery.

"I don't understand how these people manage to make such nuisances out of themselves. Or why they fight so damn hard."

His words were quiet. Angel remained silent. Jack was rarely this calm. It would either pass, or morph into something far deadlier. On the screen, the courtyard was a deadly hailstorm of cross-fire, with the entrenched bandits setting up a kill-zone in the middle, in which the loaders were falling. Angel knew with resignation that someone was going to lose their job over this – the targeting system for the loaders was clearly not taking into account tactical awareness. Their job, and most likely, their life. That was how Jack ruled Hyperion.

"How many constructors do we have on hand?" Jack asked.

The information was on the screen to his left, but Jack was not paying attention. He was watching the veritable storm of bullet shred his loaders.

"Two," Angel replied, "All the rest are currently in operation and cannot be deployed."

"Send them both."

"That will leave us without-"

"Send them!"

There was a pause as Angel ran through the launch authorizations. Somewhere, deep inside the orbital space station, massive hydraulics were preparing and bays were emptying of oxygen, opening to space. There seemed to almost be a lull in the fighting, almost as if the bandits could sense a turn in the air. Then – a streak of light – and impact.

"Let them chew on that," Jack murmured.

For a brief moment, Angel considered telling him. It was an instinct drilled into her since a child, that she was to be utterly truthful with Jack, obey him, and do everything in her power to accomplish his goals. It was an effort to bite back what she knew and keep it to herself, to hide her secrets and ignore the instinctual guilt that came with such a thing. Even then, it was more because Jack was so clearly pleased with deploying the constructors, and this was a good thing.

Besides, if Mordecai wanted to dump the entire contents of the data center to his own personal device, she should be wishing him well, not helping Jack stop him. Perhaps he'd find something useful in it.

Maya ducked instinctively as the ground beneath her trembled. The impact sent duel shock-waves through the concrete and she could feel the vibration through the sole of her boots. So far, the Carrion Birds had done well in repelling Jack's assault, as Samuel's tactics had given them an edge. This was no ordinary bandit gang. They did not meet their opposition on open terrain. They dug in, fortified, and ensured they had the cover, the high ground, and the kill-zone established. There were even a number of snipers along the wall – not nearly as competent as Zero or Mordecai – but the supporting fire was welcome indeed. Maya could not help but wonder what sort of person Samuel had been, before he became a bandit. She had to admit to herself that she enjoyed having the upper hand. Previously, all their encounters with a loader bombardment was while the four vault hunters were on the offensive, and did not have the advantage of terrain.

But now, even with Samuel's careful planning, the battle was about to get difficult. On opposite ends of the field, the two constructors unfolded like squat beetles, spindly legs reaching out and hoisting their metal shells off the ground. The cement was shattered with a spider-web of cracks underneath the impact site of each.

"We're in trouble," Maya said over ECHO to anyone who would listen, as the red eyes of the machines blinked on one after the other.

"Heavy weapons, focus fire on the constructors," Samuel said in response, his tone utterly collected, "Snipers and light weapons, keep on the loaders."

Maya had lost track of him in the melee. He was most likely on the wall, she thought, keeping a vantage on the situation. His orders were too quick, too precise, for someone on the ground. Why didn't Zero ever do something like this for them? He was always the one with the clear view of the battlefield, off sniping from a distance.

This entire affair seemed to be bringing up a lot of questions about Zero, ones she could hardly afford ot be asking at this point in the game. Maya steeled herself, feeling the quickening of adrenaline, and ducked up out of cover. She'd recovered a shield from a body on her way out to the fight and while it was weak, it would at least keep her alive if she were careful. She crouched behind a concrete barrier that the Carrion Birds had arranged parallel to the wall behind her, with another bandit to her right. They were firing in shifts, mechanically falling into a pattern without a word shared between them. He would fire until he was empty, then she would duck up and do the same while he reloaded. They both carried pistols. Further down along the wall was a pair of bandits, both with shotguns. Maya wondered if this, too, was a deliberate move on Samuel's part. The entire gang seemed to be arranged into pairs of complimentary weapons.

Of Bunny, there was no sign. Tasha had called the skag back as soon as the loaders started landing and there were no more humans to kill. As stupidly fearless as the skag was, its inane ferocity was useless against metal. It would only get in the way now.

"So we're light weapons," Maya said to the man next to her as she steadied her gun and took aim on a loader. Its back was to her and she aimed for the joint between its arm and body.

"Indeed," the man replied, his voice somewhat muffled by his mask. It was strange to be talking to one of his kind instead of shooting at. He was reloading with the ease of someone that could do it blindfolded with half a hand missing.

"I kind of want to shoot at the constructors though."

"Best do what Samuel says. He's smart."

"I gathered."

The loader was turning now, ponderously, and as it did it exposed its front to another angle of the kill pocket and someone off to Maya's left finished it off. The machine crumpled in a shower of sparks, hissing like a cat, and behind it Maya could see another loader being pieced together in an array of blue guide-lights by the constructor beyond.

"So you up to anything after this?" the bandit asked, pivoting to rise to one knee, pulling his back away from the concrete barrier. Maya took his place, slouching low, her shoulders flush with the top of the barrier and her head hunched down out of sight.

"Pardon?" She ejected the empty clip from her pistol and it steamed in the arctic air.

"You know," he continued, "We could go get a drink together. I know this place that does moonshine that hasn't killed anyone yet."

"Tempting, but I think I'll pass."

"It's that sniper guy, isn't it? You're together, aren't you?" There was a genuine trace of bitterness in his voice. Maya fumbled the reload and the clip fell uselessly from her fingers. She snatched at it before her temporary bandit partner could notice.

"Sniper – guy?" she replied, trying to sound as casually confused as possible whilst taking fire from loaders.

"You know, Mordecai."

"Oh." She paused. "Sure, let's go with that."

"Dammit, vault hunters get all the girls."

Maya was almost relieved by Samuel's cold voice interrupting their conversation with the announcement that there were surveyors incoming. She rolled to her knees once more, scanning the sky, arms braced on the barrier and pistol hilt wrapped in both hands. The first of the sleek silver shapes streaked over, barely discernible from the clear sky, and Maya snapped her gun up to bear. She led her shots, pathing the movement of her weapon along with the surveyor, and as it turned to make a second pass she fire. The shots lanced through the side of the flyer's body and it faltered, then fell. The impact was somewhere beyond the wall and the thin plume of smoke was the only thing that marked the surveyor's demise.

"Missiles incoming," Samuel called out, "Maya, Brandon, your position."

So that was his name. Maya broke from cover, hardly thinking about it, just reacting to the gut-level instinct that she had to move. Bullets slammed into her shield as the loaders fired on the target that had suddenly presented itself, and then the concussion blast from the missiles picked her off her feet. The world behind her dissolved into a hail of fire and shrapnel, then she was hitting the ground, rolling, and her lungs filled with dust. Something wrapped around both her wrists, painfully tight, and then there was a shuddering impact along her back as she was jerked across the disheveled ground by her arms. She kicked, trying to regain her feet, and flipped herself over as the hands let go. She threw herself the last few feet behind the neighboring barricade, the bandit that had helped haul her out of the line of fire just a few feet ahead of her.

"So you know Brandon and the rest of us are all on an open ECHO channel, right?" the bandit said, chambering a round into his gun and peeking up over the barricade. He was sighting for the constructor itself, his partner doing the same.

"I'm not following," Maya replied. Brandon, for his part, appeared to have ducked right while she dove left and was now on a far barricade, the shattered remains of their previous nest between the two.

"Forget the moonshine," the new bandit said, "I know a place that smuggles rakk ale. I'll buy.

"Can we stop hitting on the siren and start killing the fucking constructors?! Clear the damn channel, people."

For the first time since the battle started, Samuel sounded angry, and all ECHO chatter ceased. This was, Maya reflected, not just the first time she'd ever worked alongside bandits. It was also going to be the last. There was a lull in the action now, as the timing between all the bandits synced up on reloading. It was in this relative quiet that a voice murmured in her ear, along a private ECHO channel.

"Phase-lock the loader in the direct center," Zero's voice said evenly, "Then focus your fire on the far constructor on my mark."

Maya went taunt, her attention focused now, no longer reacting on the instinct of combat. There was a purpose to this. She wasn't simply throwing out bullets and waiting for the battle to be done. The siren exhaled, feeling her power boil in her blood in response. Sometimes, she thought it a living thing inside her, a primal force with a nature separate from her muscles and blood, yet every bit a part of her as her own skin. An alien presence coursing through her mind, whispering of power and secrets, urging her to remake the world as she willed. Sometimes, she felt she could burn the world down around her.

The siren stood, heedless of the necessity of cover. Her power raced along her arm, out through her fingertips, invisible to the naked eye. She gestured and it enveloped the loader that Zero had indicated, encasing it in a sphere of raw energy, and then she pivoted on her heel and brought both arms up to direct the muzzle of her gun towards the squat body of the constructor. The cross-hairs of her sight swam in her vision for a moment, after-effect of the power coursing through her – then resolved themselves, the center dot resting on the red glow of the constructor's eye. She fired, and the retort of a rifle seemed louder than any other weapon on the battlefield. The recoil of her pistol snapped against her gloved hands, a distant shock, and it was almost like she could feel the impact of Zero's bullets as well, his rifle firing in slow, even precision.

Then the phase-lock dwindled and died, and the loader fell free, staggering to the side and Zero's next shot lodged itself into the body of the machine, spinning it around before it was torn apart by a withering assault from the bandits. She had given Zero the line of sight he'd needed, however. The constructor was silent now, it's lone eye flickering, and she could almost feel the charge building inside it as the bullets settled into its hull, short-circuiting the interior and sending sparks all throughout its internal workings. It crumpled, its legs no longer capable of supporting it, and then an explosion punched a hole through its exterior armoring, spitting fire and sparks into a geyser before the cold air quickly ate it up. Then it was silent and dead.

"Just like that, "Samuel said, "Let's get the other one down now, just like that."

On the station, Jack was snapped out of his motionless fury. He spun on his heel, cursed, threw something at a wall. Kicked his chair over. Then, panting, he whirled to face the screen again, hands balled in fists. It was fortunate he was alone, Angel thought. Very fortunate. He was not a physically imposing man, but his rage made him dangerous, and his position made his underlings frightened, to the point they could not fight back if he turned his ire in their direction.

"Alright," he finally said, inhaling sharply, "I want them fucking dead. That data center is a lost cause, let's get some-"

Angel knew what he was going to say next. Moonshot. Level the area. And she couldn't have that, not like this.

"Someone is hacking the network," she said, interrupting Jack's sentence, "I'm not sure from where."

A lie. It was tight in her chest, to lie to him like this. He deserved it. He deserved that, and so much more. Still. A lifetime of being told what to do, what to think, was difficult to overcome. Her breath was short and the emotionless face on the screen was a facade, a carefully looped image to present a mask of her own to her father.

"Wait, what?" Jack asked, his attention temporarily diverted, "Which network?"

"Ours. The digistruct one. Also, it appears that Mordecai has complete access to the data center's servers."

Jack's resulting bout of profanity bought the vault hunters precious more minutes. Angel waited. Finally, Jack turned his focus back to the matter at hand, breathless with his own outburst. He fixed a false eye on Angel's image on the screen, seemingly oblivious to the unnatural calm it displayed.

"Alright," he said, "Moonshot the base. Stall Mordecai's hack and make sure he isn't streaming that data elsewhere. And shut down the hack!"

"We only have resources to do one of those three," Angel replied, "Pick one."

She wouldn't give him suggestions. She wouldn't tell him that the source of all three incursions was at the same location. Let him flounder, let him hesitate and make the wrong decision. She could only do so much to hurt him, but this was one of those things within her power.

"I – the hack. It's targeting the digistruct network?"

Angel hesitated before answering. There was a delay she could fake, pretend she didn't have the information yet. It would only work for so long before he got impatient, but it bought another minute. On the screen, the second constructor erupted into a gout of flame, half the hull ripped off by the explosion, as if a hand had shorn back the layers of metal and discarded them like an orange peel. Jack did not notice. He was pacing the room now, his back turned.

"It is," Angel confirmed, "Purpose unknown."

"I can't have that. Shut it down, Angel. No – trace the origin first. Find out who is responsible, then shut it down and deploy loaders to their location."

"We're out of loaders for another five cycles."

"Then moonshot them off the face of the planet! Dammit, do I have to think of everything!?"

"No sir," she replied, emotionless as ever, "Tracing."

She, of course, already knew where the signal came from. She knew what it was designed to do. She'd been tracking it since it started and – thankfully – she had to admit she was impressed with its sophistication. There was no identification as to who had created it, but the hack was refined enough that it had to have come from a competition weapons corporation, someplace large enough to have the resources to throw into this and the firepower to back it up if they were discovered and confronted. She wouldn't stop it, of course, but she would identify it.

And then, Jack would be spurred to retaliate. He could only fight so many wars at once, and if he embroiled himself into another one with a rival arms manufacturer... well, that just might give the vault hunters the breathing room they needed.

Angel's screen remained impassive, but far away in her cage, the siren smiled.