Chapter 16 Never Ending Story
I hate everything!
Just- Christ.
Why does everything have to be so freaking complicated! I can't even browse a junkyard without some friggin bandits shooting at me out of their scrappy trash homes! (Bandits have zero class.) And don't even get me started on the spider-ants.
Ugh.
I'm not an arachnophobic or anything, which in hindsight is probably the only reason I wasn't paralyzed with fear. But these things are disturbing. Is Pandora's Mother Nature like some kind of twisted nymphomaniac that just says, 'Fuck It!' to the laws of decency?
I can literally think of no other explanation as to why spiders and ants are capable of procreating with each other. And in turn creating offspring twice the size of a human child, and in some cases larger than even that. Well. besides all the boring biological/evolutionary reasons.
But I don't Jack shit about that. I'm a Tech Scientist. If you want to know about the complex anatomies and mating rituals of the local wildlife, ask Lilith, she's a biologist. Or better yet, go to a library. They're a dying business. Everyone just keeps checking Wiki.
Which I really don't recommend. Almost no one ever fact checks that stuff. Its why people think Benjamin Franklin was the first president, and George Washington led the Confederacy. It's all kinds of wrong!
But I digress. Thankfully, it's over now, and I can finally get the last piece…
What?
Don't tell me you actually want to hear the story? I promise it's not fun. For me. At all.
…
Fine. Screw it… here's how it went…
…
I couldn't quite put my finger on it. But something was definitely wrong. Like, more than the usual kind of wrong. Extremely wrong. I'm not being paranoid. Claptrap said it himself, it's suspicious when something isn't blowing up.
Internal gasp! I left Claptrap, alone. What was I thinking?!
I could have had Mordecai watch him! Dammit! Such a wasted opportunity. Next time, Jack. Next time.
Hmmm. My bad feeling still hasn't gone away either. Is it something else?
Well, it's quiet. Eerily quiet… too qui-
"I want their meat!" A psychotic bandit was quick to announce, charging in merrily with his buzz axe in tow. Aw. I really wanted to finish that line. It's classic. Ah, well.
"Guys." This is it Jack, say something cool and inspirational. But also, something short, we're in the middle of something. "Fuck 'em up!" Okay that was good, a little crude. Maybe a little less profanity next time. What if my Daughter saw this, huh?
Great. Now I sound like my dad. Fatherhood… that particular job really changes a fellow.
I never really thought of myself as the type of guy who could be a dad, but- Shit! They're still shooting at me. "Holodoubles, go forth and lay waste!" I theatrically commanded the unself-aware holographic (but also tangible) programs of myself.
"Whatever you say boss." The first holo-me replied Jackishly, a devilish gleam and a cocky smirk projected on his projected face. The other gave a shrug like 'why not' and both began storming away at my multiple enemies.
You know, at some point, I should really get those guys 'colored' in. They'd be a lot more distracting if they looked completely like me, and not some blue, ghostly, see through me. You know? Does that make sense?
Sorry, I'm not thinking straight. I am thinking about this mid-battle.
Speaking of segues…
Bang! I really missed this!
A couple of shots from my Hyperion issued (brand loyalty ftw) gun took down two bandits and brought another to his knees. I was at five guys, but at least I can shoot right half the time. I should set up a shooting range in my office. I could even use a Claptrap target board.
They actually do make those. Although, most people tend to use actual Claptraps.
I envy people who don't have kids with soft hearts, and annoying attachments. Sigh. It's okay, Angel's still young, she'll grow out of it. Someday.
These bandits aren't really putting up much of a fight. Not sure if it's because they're crazy, or if it's because they just don't want to live anymore, but they are dropping like flies. You're not exactly in a great place in life if you're living in a junkyard.
Maybe I could set up homeless shelters when I run this place one day?
I'd have to manage it properly, but that could really help with controlling the population. And possibly limiting the fanatical army of the once and (hopefully not) future 'God Queen' Tyreen. Oh, and also Troy. He's… there. I guess.
What was his Siren power again? Mooching off of other Sirens? Yeah, I'll be sure to keep him riiight at the top of my threat list.
And maybe keep Angel a couple of solar systems away from him. Just to be safe.
How does every thought process I have circle back to my kid? Being a dad is hard. Especially when your little girl is a cyberpunk-witch with a heart of gold, and little IRL experience. Like real estate, advanced education, employment, combat training… Man, I have my work cut out for me.
Meh. Maybe I'll just hire a couple of people for that.
Wait, is that a good idea? I still gotta keep her powers hidden, on top of all that other stuff. Actually, that kind of trumps the rest of it, sooo… What should I do?
If only there were like leaflets, or parental help books. Well, other than the ones you have to buy. Because, sureee, I bet paying only $25 dollars for a thirty page essay about nothing, that I'm more or less going to skim, is gonna be a big help.
Nah, I'm better off going the same way I've been doing things. I'll just have to let Angel ride my coattails to the grave. Like most millennial kids. It ain't perfect, but what's the alternative? Read a book?
Who even reads anymore?
...
Don't answer that.
Also, don't distract me. Bang! Bang! I'm on a roll! Eessh, and so are their heads. Ease up with the brutality there Brick. Ugh. Thank God I'm Jack, otherwise I'd probably be sick.
There's no worse smell than corpses in a junkyard. Except- ah forget it. I was gonna do a yo momma joke, but even she doesn't smell this bad. Even if she can't walk down the street, without the homeless offering her soap.
Aha! Psyched you out. You didn't think it was gonna happen, but then it did. Okay, I'll stop now.
…
"Hellooo?" Lilith asked out casually. "Any bad people still alive?" It never hurts to check. But it would probably hurt to be shot in the back. Better safe than sorry.
"No." One helpful bandit politely answered, before she shot him. What? He was a liar. Totally justifiable.
"Huh." Jack stumped out. "You'd figure no one would have been dumb enough to answer that." Ah, poor, sweet naive Jack. There's always someone dumb enough to get themself killed. Thankfully, that someone wasn't her.
Lilith smirked. "It's Pandora."
Eventually, there would come a day when that answer would not be a one size fits all solution. Today was not that day.
Jack shrugged. "Fair." He pulled out his echo device, along with some other sciency do-hickey.
Honestly, she had no clue. She's a Biologist, not a tech-scientist. "So, where to?"
"Give me a sec, here." Jack twisted some knobs and pushed some buttons. That sounded obscenely simplified, but she was pretty lost. Lilith felt like a preschooler watching the big kids do advanced calculus.
She really cherished the days when she used to be the King of the Nerds. Queen of the Nerds. Except that title definitely goes back to Jack now, so yeah, King of the Nerds. Maybe she should look into some gender neutral titles.
Like, uh, chief or general. Something cool.
Lilith mentioned she was a scientist, not an artist, right?
"Okay!" Jack exclaimed triumphantly. "I got a beat on it. We're going in this direction." Jack pointed without looking up and started marching forward… into Brick's chest. "Hgh."
"Ah, sorry boss." Brick apologized, even though his only crime was happening to stand in the direction Jack was walking directionless in. He's a nice guy like that. Not the smartest guy, but still pretty cool.
"It's fine." Jack said doggedly. Lilith was willing to bet her tattoos that Jack was blushing underneath that mask. He lifted himself up, patted the dust off his jacket, and fixed his hair before speaking. "Ahem. Would someone else like to lead? Anyone?"
Roland deeply sighed through his nose. It was one of the most meaningful expressions Lilith has ever seen him make, and probably the closest he ever got to rolling his eyes. Without a word, the former soldier snatches the device out of Jack's hand and looks at it for approximately three seconds.
"It's currently South West of our position. Follow me, and please look forward." How Roland managed to say that with a straight face was beyond her. But at the moment, Lilith was really glad she didn't try to get herself a GI bill before getting her Doctorates.
There may have been some doubt when she was a bit younger, but she can safely say that the military life just isn't for her. Besides, Vault Hunting pays pretty well, apparently. Actually, how is Jack affording this? Didn't he say this wasn't Hyperion sanctioned?
"Well, no. It's not." Jack answered awkwardly. Did she ask that out loud? "Uh, yeah. You did. So, uh, could you maybe not do that? This planet has got me real paranoid about people going off the deep end." Sorry.
… Oh, that one wasn't out loud. "Sorry." Lilith apologized, equally embarrassed.
"It's cool." Jack waves off, relaxing slightly. "Anyways, you were wondering about the whole funding thing?"
"Yeah, not to be rude or anything but how exactly are you going to pay us…?" Lilith trailed off with her question, looking skeptically. It's also worth noting that the others were suddenly a lot more interested in their conversation.
"Good point, Lil. Jack, care to answer her?" Mordecai turned his attention to their masked employer, who rolled his eyes at the unspoken threat.
"I've got some money saved up, I made a couple inventions over the years, and it paid pretty damn well." Jack bragged, puffing his chest proudly. Men.
Okay, to be fair, it did look adorable. He's like a little kid trying to show his mom what he drew.
"Inventions?" Lilith tried to sound interested, like every mother did about their kid's 'projects'. "That's cool. Anything I've ever heard of?"
Jack smirked. "Depends, have you ever heard of Fast Travel?"
Lilith's jaw dropped. Then promptly closed. She did not want to catch a Pandoran fly in her mouth. That's how the Zika virus spreads, then next thing you know, the galaxy's under quarantine. "Bullshit."
The rest quickly voice their disbelief, and sooner than later, Jack has to shout to get their attention. "I have the patent! This stuff is documented! I'll show you later, after we're done here. Speaking of which, Roland?"
"It's close." Roland affirms. "It should be less than a few feet away based on the signature. What details can you give us? What will it look like?"
"A lot like the last one." Jack states the obvious, with an 'are you kidding me?' look. "It's a stone fragment, with a purple glow. Trust me, it'll be hard to miss."
"To be fair, amigo, there's still a lot of crap to sift through." Mordecai points out, Bloodwing cawing in agreement. "It could take us a while to-"
"Found it." Brick literally points out. His sausage like index fingers, pointed directly at the Key Fragment in question, the second they turned by the nearest scrap pile. It wasn't precisely hidden, per say, more like it was just randomly tossed into the trash.
That method would probably work for hiding anything else, but Jack had a pretty good point: It's hard to miss. Particularly, when it's glowing purple, illuminating the entire pile, at nearly the end of the day.
Frankly, she's surprised the day's lasted as long as it has. She read (skimmed) through the dossier on the planet, but Lilith didn't really think 40 hour days were possible, let alone survival. It's one the closest feelings she's ever had to homesick.
"Okay, seriously?" Mordecai pouted grumpily. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we didn't have to spend the next five or so hours looking, that would've sucked. But seriously. It shouldn't have been that easy."
Then, the scrap piles started to rumble. It shifted, it moved, and the sheer size of it startled her. (That's what she said.) And out of the rubbish, emerged the scariest, Alien rip off, that she had ever seen. In real life.
"Mordecai." Lilith sighed, exasperated. "I hate you."
…
"Strongly seconded." I added my input through gritted teeth. Trying very hard, to balance my fear, frustration, and my stunning good looks, all at the same time. I managed the first two with some effort, but the third came naturally.
Wink.
Time to get real though. One of my greatest fears has just gotten between me and an integral part of my money making scheme. The thought alone helped me get a good grip on my self-control. My greed outweighed my terror, like always.
Good. So, not that I'm not shocked, what do I do? The answer: shoot.
"Open fire!" I shout out (not frantically, I am in complete control.), and everyone listened. A certain alien from another franchise once said, 'Why shoot something once, if you can shoot it 46 more times?'
And as the creature that the original artist definitely drew after being inspired by Alien, slowly backed away under the sheer turret of fire power. I thought that Wrex made a very good point. Until I realized that it still wasn't dying.
Great. That's fair. I mean sure, it's only immune to bullets, lasers, and the supernatural/scientific space powers of a Siren. Totally legit. Super fair fight. But just to be safe, let's get creative.
"Hey, Angel?" I asked, keeping my tone completely calm, so my little girl doesn't catch how utterly panicked I feel.
"Yes, sir?" She answers instantly. Huh, guess she gave up on trying to call me 'Jack'.
"What are the odds you could get me an orbital strike?" I ask for the hell of it. There's bound to be guns on that satellite we're using, right?
"Highly unlikely." Angel deadpans. Dang. That was a good idea too.
"Uh huh." I muttered dejectedly.
All I can really do is fire a couple of rounds at the abomination of nature. At this rate, it's only a matter of time before we run out of ammo. Then we'll probably die, and the only survivor of our ragtag team of tomb raiders will be Claptrap, because he's still in the… car.
The car!
"Okay, Plan B, Angel can you access the car's remote control features?" Thank you Arkham Knight for the idea, and thank you Scooter for finding a way to implement it. You know, after this is all over, I should probably hire him too. The man's a savant.
"Yes." She paused. "Why?"
…
Claptrap was clearly, without a doubt, the greatest, most impressive, and handsome soldier there ever was. At least, in his humble opinion. And soon to be Jacks. Eeeeh! Oh, he's so excited!
Just wait till Jack hears about how good he is at staying in the car. Then he'll be rolling in praise. Ha! Get it? Rolling! You see, that works on two levels, because his foot's a wheel, and he's in a car! Claptrap always knew his self-designated joke protocols would pay off some day.
Modulated sniff
He's living the dream. Claptrap might even cry if he had tear ducts. But, you know, in a manly way. He is a man, right? Well, a robot-man. As opposed, of course to a robot-woman. To be honest, he's not sure.
Look, Claptrap's attracted to girls, so he had to be a man. Or a lesbian. So, that settles it. He's either a robot-man, or a lesbian. There's no middle-ground... But how can he be sure which he really is?.
Okay, so obviously, a test is in order.
If he's a machine, he should be able to calculate Pi to it's one hundredth digit. Pfft, child's play. It's 3.17, wait that didn't sound right. 3.1514 no, that's not it either. Did it even start with a three? Maybe it started with a two?
Let's table that test for now.
But if Claptrap's a lesbian, than he should be able to make any kind of wood carving andbe extremely popular online. But not on cable. Then again, he doesn't have fingers, sooo carving's out. Also, how does the Echo work? Claptrap's always assumed that it was invisible magic, and that he wasn't a very good sorcerer.
Life's full of tough- Oh the car's moving! Wait, that's not good, that's bad! That's the opposite of what Jack wanted! Oh boy, Claptrap's in trouble now.
…
I sighed in pure relief when I saw my fully operational (secretly) mini tank roll in. The plates flipped over, and more and more guns came out of the woodwork. My favorite of which being, a particular cannon I had Scooter install, inspired by a certain battle station the size of a small moon…
"Angel." I paused for dramatic effect. Smiling softly as I prepared to say one of the most iconic lines in history "The car's here. Begin preparations, you may fire when ready."
Angel groaned into her comm, immediately recognizing the Star Wars reference for what it was. "I just hope those movies haven't given you any other ideas. Now please, stand back."
That was good advice, better advice might have been to have us shield our eyes. Because it turns out looking at lasers conjoining together to make a super laser, really hurts to look at. It's like staring into the Sun, but way worse because it's so much closer.
The Spider-Ant queen fell without so much as a screech. Based on the blacked char of what used to be her chest, I'd guess her silence is due to no longer having any lungs. Finally.
The rest of her brood was exterminated by us while we were waiting for the Tank to come through, but now that it's here, I think we're about ready to go. Just… one more thing.
Striding slowly, I pluck the second Vault Key fragment out of the dirt, and smirk. Two down, one to go. I'm almost there.
…
Well, to those of you who wanted to hear the story, there. I hope you're happy. The only part I liked about any of that experience was the ending.
Whatever, Jack out.
This concludes the sixteenth echo log of the current CEO of the Hyperion Corporation. Please join us next time, as we relive Handsome Jack's daring adventures for The Vault of The Destroyer!
…
Today, I am not going to answer any reviews, because TBH I'm a little tired of typing, and I kinda just want to get back to playing Battlefront, plus I've gotten some complaints that this section is too long anyways. Sooo… Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter!
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