Chapter 14 Taking Out The Trash
"Okay, and sign here…" I highlighted the place on one of the various papers of employment that Hyperion issued to me.
"Very well…" Tannis spoke, the boredom radiating off of her could empower several teenagers into becoming goth. She had little to argue with though. Guess the contracts they have at Dahl are pretty bad too.
"Great, and initial there…" Admittedly, being on this side of the admittance process wasn't exactly thrilling either.
"Where?"
"Where I'm pointing with my finger, hun."
"You have multiple fingers. Would you like to clarify, or should I begin a process of elimination." Tannis threatened, I guess the frustration was getting to her.
"It's literally the only one on the paper." I deadpanned with a roll of my heterochronic echo eyes. Seriously Tannis, this is about as fun for me as it is for you.
"Ah." Tannis coughed into her hand, probably in a way she thought was subtle. You know how before, I mentioned before about how the geniuses of the galaxy were all crazy? Well, the ones who aren't insane in the membrane, seem to lack all common sense. Tannis is smart enough to qualify for both hang-ups. "Yes, of course. I see that, now."
"Uh huh." Now don't be fooled, just because I agreed to that sarcastically, doesn't mean I believed it at all. Again, I know this is an implied thing, but I'm making sure any geniuses out there have a complete understanding of what I'm saying.
"I still believe it would have been more prudent of me to have read the contract before signing." Tannis muttered in a semi-dignified manner.
"Look, the thing's over fifty pages long, stacked with enough double meanings, written implications, and fine print to make the lowest lawyers in hell cringe." I point out with a roll of my eyes, and a shrug of my shoulders. "Bottom line is, you work for us, we pay you well, and leave you alone." I paused. "Or with employees. So, you don't get any more crazy."
Tannis scowled at me before rubbing her eyes with a sigh. "That would be… acceptable. Provided I am allowed to do my own background checks."
"Sure." I 'concede'. Why should I care who she hires? On second thought. "Friendly tip: don't hire anyone from Pandora. Most of the inhabitants are either homicidal or insane. Usually both."
"Hey!" Brick whined defensively.
I raised one of my mask's eyebrows. "You're from Pandora?" Because I'm pretty sure he's not. Feels like something I would remember. Admittedly, all I remember about Brick's origin story is that he had a dead dog (sad) and that he beat a man to death with a brick (not so sad).
It wouldn't be the first time things have slipped through the cracks.
"No." Brick denies the accusation, and confirms that just because he's eccentric, doesn't mean he's crazy. At least not until he's lived on Pandora for a couple of years. Then he'll start blowing up trains and shit. "I just think you're being very discriminatory to people who live on Pandora."
Discrima- what?! "Excuse me? Have you seen the residence? I think a little bias in selection is pretty justified here. Right guys?"
Roland ignored me, he does that a lot. It's starting to hurt my feelings. Lilith gave a supportive nod, but Mordecai seemed more skeptical. "I don't know, man. I don't think I want to touch this one."
"Oh, come on!" I shout indignantly. "What's wrong with making sure the people you hire aren't batshit crazy. That's just a basic screening process."
"Yeah." Mordecai sighed. "And there's nothing bad about that on an individual level, but when you start classifying this stuff on a global level…"
Oh right, he's Truxican. Shit! Was that racist? Space racist? Spacist? Is this bit played out?
"That's fair." I accept the critique calmly, but with a rebuttal up my sleeve. "But Pandora isn't like most planets. I'm not sure if it's something in the water or the air, or if all loops back the Vaults somehow, but it just seems to have an insanity field circling around it."
"An insanity field." Mordecai deadpans.
"I know how it sounds." I raised my hands in defense. "Just a theory, for now. But I'm pretty sure this planet doesn't just attract crazy people. I'm like, sixty percent sure that it's what makes people crazy."
As it is written (by the writers of the games) so it will come to pass.
"Nah." Lilith waved my conspiracy away.
"Yeah, I'm not buying it." Mordecai denied my logic, crossing his arm. Then immediately uncrossing them because Bloodwing didn't like when her perch shifted.
"Uhh, you lost me at "insanity field"." Brick admitted sheepishly.
Roland grunted ambiguously. Fuck you too, Roland.
"It does seem quite unlikely." Tannis, the crazy science lady with almost no empathy, no sociability, and a complex perspective of seeing objects as something more relatable than people, agreed with the sheep. What a surprise. "May me move this along?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." I sarcastically apologize. "Am I interrupting your busy day of doing nothing while being alone?"
"No." Tannis answered, her intellect either not quite grasping, or completely ignoring my sarcasm. "However, time is of the essence should we wish to piece the Vault Key together before our window expires, leaving us with not but a useless key and a waiting period of two centuries… Also, my next sandwich time is approaching, and I do not wish for your company while I dine."
Huh.
"Fair enough." I drop my own stack of papers. "Let's just rain check this for now, and uh deal with the Vault stuff. Priorities, right? So… where do we find the fragments?"
Tannis orderly stacked her share, and mine, into nice, distinctive, and desirable piles, the likes of which would make someone with OCD jealous. "You may find the first within the proverbial hoard of treasures accumulated by a particularly notorious bandit named 'Sledge'. It has come to my attention that you have already disposed of him, now all you need do, is reconvene at his hideout and-"
I wave my hand frantically and dismissively. "Yeah, cool. We got that one already, which one next?"
Tannis frowned. I'm not sure if it's because I told her something she didn't know, or because I interrupted her. Geniuses are weirdly prideful. What do all these nerds have to be so smug about? Oh wow! You got an A on your final?! Great job! Sooo impressed. Let's cue a nice, slow, sarcastic clap.
Yeah, I went there. Come talk to me when you've done something cool.
Oh shit, Tannis is glaring at me. Was I thinking out loud or was I just not paying attention? This is why you can't daydream kids. "What?" I asked, trying to pacify her.
Sadly, the mad doctor's glare only seemed to intensify. "If you do have a fragment of the Vault Key in your possession, then I would like to inspect it. Now."
"Okay. Sheesh.." I said defensively. "All you had to do was ask. Brick! Go get the scary doctor what she wants."
"Okay." Brick agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. Walking out the room with a casual approach. And reappearing in the doorway a few seconds later. "What did she want? I wasn't really paying attention." Aha! It's not just me!
"The thing we took from Sledge." Brick continued to stare at me blank faced. "Uhh, the shiny thing. With the purple glow."
"Ah." Brick gained a look of understanding and smiled. "I'll be right back."
"Okay." Giving a small, excited clap, I turned my attention to the slightly mollified doctor. "So, that's space artifact numero uno down, where's the other one?"
"Two." Tannis stated factually.
"Come again?" I asked, confused. Two what? Miles, kilometers, feet? Why does everyone have to be so cryptic? Can't people just say what they mean? I dunno, maybe that's just how conversations work in this universe.
"Two." Tannis repeated unhelpfully. Thankfully, she continued, probably because she liked the sound of her own voice. Can't say I blame her, Colleen Clinkenbeard did good work. Probably channeled years of repressed insanity into that role. "There are two other fragments left for you to acquire."
Are you kidding me?!
"Wonderful." I grit out sarcastically. "Now instead of having to scour the planet for one ancient alien artifact lost to the sands of time, abominations of nature, and the scum of humanity, we get to look for two! Is it my birthday?!
Tannis shrugged unsympathetically. "I would not know, we are not particularly close." Guess she doesn't understand sarcasm. "You will need to make haste, should you wish to repair the Vault Key in time."
Okay, Jack, let's just breathe. Let's calm down. Neither panicking nor flying into a murderous rampage is going to help anybody. Just gotta keep it steady and focus on the task at hand.
We can kill someone to feel better, later. But only if they deserve it.
Not exactly a small demographic here, but you get the point. This is how I stay moral. And sane. You'd be scarily surprised by how similar this is to some of the practices that therapists recommend. Plus, it's healthier than taking antidepressants, or whatever kind of pills your doctor tries to shove down your throat.
Annnd now I'm off topic. Terrific. "Okay...So, where do we start looking?"
…
This sucks.
In the end, it doesn't really matter how you play videogames, Borderlands especially. Xbox, PlayStation, hell even VR (even if it's an overrated mix up of Wii and Kinect), none of it can really capture the essence of real life.
Of actually holding something or catching the first light of the crack of dawn, feeling the sun on your skin. Feeling it burning your skin. Feeling your skin blend into the cracked leather seat, of something you are fairly certain is not cow skin, in an absolutely hellish climate only producible from an angry god.
Or from a planet actively trying to kill you. And one that gets closer to that goal by the day.
Ah, but these are just random thoughts drifting in and out of my heat induced, slightly crazed mind. Sometimes they're good thoughts, but mostly they're bad. They can actually be a bit mixed a couple of times.
For example, currently I'm hallucinating Claptrap in the middle of the road. Boo. But on the Brightside, we're about to run him over. Yay!
"Ahhh!" Screamed the digitalized cry of a horrifyingly realistic, hallucinogenic rendition of Claptrap. Wait. Did that bump feel normal or… was that… real? Not complaining, it is Claptrap, just curious.
"Pull over." Lilith demanded of Brick, who for some herculean logic was allowed to drive instead of me. Jerks.
"Fine." Brick reluctantly agreed, sighing petulant as we pulled off to the side of the… I'm hesitant to call it a road. It's like a less efficient dirt path. But made with sand. You know what, fuck it, it's a road.
That's what it looks like on my Echo map anyway.
I unbuckled myself (JK, this thing doesn't have seatbelts… I should probably get some the next time I see Scooter.) and got out of the death-mobile. Casually strolling around the vehicle to see what we actually hit… and its Claptrap.
Of course, it's Claptrap. Why would I allow myself to believe that it couldn't be him? Pandora, man. This was supposed to be my 'get rich and famous, quick' plan. Why is everything on this rock, suck a dream crusher?
"Mr. Jack!" Claptrap enthusiastically greeted. "Thank Robo-God! I was worried no one would ever find me out here!" Yeah, that would have been awesome. "But, you're here! You must have known I was in trouble and came to help!"
… I don't even know where to start with that. I'd almost feel guilty about thinking about how much he sucked if he wasn't such a… Claptrap. "Sure," I agreed with a sigh. "Why not?"
We literally ran into him, in the middle of the desert on a planet that should have scrapped him over a thousand times before coming across me. Let's face it, it's destiny. Besides, you know what they say. 'Keep your friends close, and the people you want to reprogram and rebuild into a better, quieter version of themselves, closer.'
Yes, I know the expression sounds odd, morbid, and extremely cryptic for what's essentially a line about keeping an eye on your opponents until you can befriend them. But that's the way it goes. It's not like I made it… okay, so I made a variation of it, but who doesn't do that?
"So, Claptrap." I spoke despondently, not that the impressionable little robot could tell the difference. "What are you doing out here?" Just so you know, I don't actually care. I'm just asking to be polite.
Step one of being a better Handsome Jack than in cannon, use manners every now and again. Step two is to only kill people in self-defense. I may have had a few hiccups with that since coming here, but I've been doing okay.
It's why Claptrap's still alive. Speaking of, or rather him speaking "... And then Scooter demanded for me to have a trial by combat, even though I was completely innocent! So, they blah, blah, blah."
Sorry, he probably didn't actually say 'blah, blah, blah', I just find it extraordinarily challenging to pay attention to Claptrap for more than thirty seconds. It's a strange kind of gift to make a story that intriguing sound so dull.
"Yeah, okay bud. Think we got it." I falsely reassured, waving a hand away dismissively. What? This is my story, not the recalled R2-D2's. "Listen, we're not heading back to New Haven any time soon. We're actually heading to the scrapyard, right now. And considering that's like a graveyard or something for you people-"
"Hey! What do you mean "you people"?" Claptrap demanded imperiously, his weird crane arms trying to cross in indignation.
Really. "Droids, Claptrap. I meant droids." And honestly, even calling them 'people' is pushing it for me. "Am I wrong?"
"Nope!" Claptrap cheerfully denied, as if I flipped a switch his personality did a complete 180. Considering he's a robot, he might actually have that kind of switch, but I promise that I only meant that metaphorically. There'll be no flip-switching here. "Just making sure you weren't a Spacist."
It is called Spacist! I knew it.
But I can pat myself on the back later. "So, anyways, as I was saying, before I was interrupted." And dammit I am sick of that happening. "We're not really heading out to any kind of settlement for a while. So, are you gonna be okay on your own, or does Pandora have, I don't know, some kind of taxi services or…?"
That feels like a fair question. I mean, I get it, it's Pandora, but even this craphole has busses. Sure, the bus drivers seem to double as arms dealers, but they're still here. Personally, I'd never take any kind of Uber they had here, but that's because I don't want to have to kill the driver every time I need a lift.
In self-defense, of course. I'm not a psychopath, just inhabiting the body of one.
"Can't I-" The decomposed droid glanced up at me with his blue optic. Whereas before it usually looked like an out of place Christmas light, now it seemed dimmed as if to show his desperation. "Can't I come with you?"
"Uhh…." No. God almighty no. Literally anything else. Please, I'll be good, just do not make me do this! "I'm not sure-"
"Please! Waaah!" Claptrap sobbed, falling face first, so to speak, onto the ground, and at my feet. Clutching the fabric of my pants, which I'll have to burn now, he glanced at me pitifully. "I - I don't have anywhere else to go!"
If this were anyone else, I would have consented about thirty seconds ago. But this is Claptrap. Even still, some small part of me felt guilty. And even I can't help the pity I feel for the truly pathetic robot. I just know I'm going to regret this, but I keep running into him anyways, and Angel will give me crap if I were to just leave him anyways. So…
With more willpower than anything I've ever done in my life, including being a single father to a Siren, trying to crack open ancient alien technology to get rich, and inventing teleportation, I sigh. A sigh, the likes of which no one had ever heard before or since. A sigh of reluctance, of remorse, and of acceptance.
By the time it was done, I needed to gulp down a shit ton of air. "Fine." Never before has it been that difficult for me to say that word.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Claptrap cried out in gratitude, in that mechanicalized voice of his. Where did he get all those recordings of sobbing? It's not like that's a standard issue. "I promise you won't regret this!"
Oh, Claptrap. I already do.
…
"And you're sure we have to do this?" Roland emphasized into the radio- echo, that crap gets confusing.
"I believe that I've already made it quite clear that this is necessary." Tannis confirmed, in that intelligent way of saying 'don't make me repeat myself, dumbass.'
"I doubt blowing a hole in his fence is going to endear himself." Roland refuted. Which is, you know, a valid point. If someone shot at my barricades I'd- well to be honest, I'd probably shoot back. I'm not a big fan of this plan either.
"It likely wouldn't." Tannis surprisingly agreed. "However, Earl doesn't like people on principle. So as far as first impressions go, you would not meet his expectations well under any circumstance. Besides, I've done this myself on numerous occasions. If he truly did not wish for his defenses to be impaired every time he received a visitor, then he should have installed a gate."
Also, a valid point. Plus, doesn't this guy run like a scrapyard or something? How does he get it in if there's no entrance? Seems like a design flaw to me. "But he does have the Vault Key fragment, right?"
"Of course." My newest employee (paperwork impending) reassured. "I entrusted it to Earl, because his aversion to people, and their aversion to him, assured that the artifact would remain undisturbed. The security his isolation provides is second to none. That is also why I have left most of my underwear with him as well," Tannis paused for a second, and I almost wondered if she felt embarrassment. "If there is time, I would like you to retrieve those as well."
Ah, never mind. But really though, what kind of dry spell has she had for the last couple of years? I'd get her a vibrator, but given her attachment to objects, I'm worried she'd marry it. Maybe I'll buy her a stripper.
You can buy those, right? Or rent them, anyways? Whatever, not the concern of today's agenda.
"Okay." I stared at the fence, blocking our vision, protecting us from the crazy old man with a collection of woman underwear. And promptly decided it needed to be blown up. What has this world down to me? "Who wants to do the honors?"
…
ANNND I'M BACK, BABY!
Sorry for the long wait, December was a surprisingly busy month for me. But I'm back now, so dry those tears, Jack is here, with another chapter for you all to enjoy!
Not a lot of reviews in that time which makes me sad. :(
But them's the breaks.
Still, I appreciate all of you who took the time to read what I've written, and actually liked it. We're now at the sixth place of most followed Borderlands stories! (Warning: This does not include crossovers.)
I'm almost tempted to just skip replying to the reviewers and go straight to posting because I've been writing for over an hour now, but that doesn't really seem fair to all the folks who reviewed and waited this long, so…
*Knuckle cracking sounds*
Adam110902: Thank you! Writing gets surprisingly easier when you're goal's only 500 words a day.
Verycoolname: I always thought so, it's nice to just enjoy a game and have a few laughs. Sure, there's still a few dark moments, but at least we get to feel like a badass while making comedic one liners.
NazgulBelserion: I try! It's not as easy as it looks, but if I just channel my psychotic douchebag personality, it's a lot more manageable. The real problem is turning it off- I'll kill you, asshole! Ah, sorry. Reflex.
Dat guy: Thanks, guy. I try, buddy. It's nice to be appreciated, friend.
Tamagat: When he's rich and famous. Possibly in pre-sequel ere, but it may be briefly after.
Bobby4million: Thank you I will. But team effort, I need you to chip in too. Review. Be sincere, be ironic, say something brief, type the max cap, just review! Boost my ego and my review count! I need motivational support!
BohemianRhaspody: I saved the best for last, so don't worry about me skipping. Like I said though, I am a little weary or writing, so speed responses, going paragraph by paragraph. Three, two, one, go!
It won't be!
Great minds think alike! X2
Great observation, IDK either. Plot armor!
Yup. Odd connections but we don't have time to explore them yet.
Skill trees IRL! Or you know, fictional IRL.
If Mordecai wants a better rep, than he needs a better gimmick. Bloodwing was more involved in the second game than him! All he did was fuck up me messing with the badass pods for Hammerlock!
There's a few of the emotional moments that you comment on, that I'd like to reply too, but that would take time, speed buzzer says BZZZ! But thanks for the notes on Tannis! I thought it was good too, might've captured less of that in this chapter, but eh, only so much you can tell from Jack's perspective.
I know that's where wiki says he's from, but he was also raised by his grandma on Pandora, which he later confirmed. I had kind of a tie in with that a couple a chapters ago, but no clue what really happened.
Also, I get not having him be related to the Flynts, it's not for everyone. But to clarify I didn't mean brothers or anything. Distance cousin at best, on his mother's side. To be honest, I couldn't really see it happening, just spouting out ideas there, which is why it was in here and not in the plot. But thanks for looking out for me.
Alright, that's all the time for today!
I hope you all enjoy your new year. Can't be worse than the last one.
Let's all celebrate with A Follow, Favorite, and Review!