H(M): You know, I heard a rumor regarding Cain and the Reef.
H(F): Hm? Where from?
H(M): Well I didn't so much hear as read it from a Fallen terminal. It seems the Nighthawk used to be the King of the Tangled Shore a good few centuries ago. Before that he was known as the Pirate King.
H(F): The hell? What's so special about a bunch of asteroids?
H(M): Wasn't the asteroids so much as most of the Reef. He was the one who owned the Reef before the Sovs came into power.
H(F): I repeat. Why?
H(M): Dunno. I just read the date on it. It happens to be right after his bonded, Meri the Sunblessed, was killed by Valus Ma'ruon.
H(F): Weird.
H(M): *nods*
C1: *walks up* So whatcha talkin' bout?
F : *both make startled gasp and trip*
C1: *blinks* Oooookkayy then. Get up. We got some patrols to do.
The afternoon sun hung high in the sky on the following Monday by Earth's calendar.
"...and he shall be hung by the neck until dead," read off the town of Lynchwood's Deputy Sheriff Winger, a massive man with modified Nomad gear to include a six pointed gold star on the front of the crotch area. The cowboy hat wearing Sheriff lowered the noose over Cain's neck with a sneer. Deputy Winger looked up from his paper. "Any last words?"
Cain grinned from his position on the gallows. His wrists were bound behind his back and tightly too. Sheriff Nisha knew what he was capable even unarmed. His clothing was roughed up and torn in a few areas and he had what appeared to be lipstick peeking out from under his ripped clothes.
It was definitely a Monday.
"See you all tomorrow."
Nisha stepped away with a slight limp, pulling the lever to the trapdoor beneath him. He fell and his neck snapped with an odd crack that rang out over the area and those gathered.
Cain had died, a grin plastered on his face.
Let's rewind a bit just so see what brought our favorite Nighthawk to this yeah?
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
Dawn came the night after his recon and so did Phase One of Cain's plan.
He strolled back into town and located the nearest bar.
Oh fuck you it was vital.
'Is it though? Is it really?' Alastor asked over the mental link. 'Or is it just an excuse to drink and cause discord?'
Cain did not deny that was indeed a perk.
Nearly sashaying into the establishment, a few eyes roved over him sizing him up. A cocky smirk was their response. The owners of the eyes huffed, one snorted, and returned to what they were doing.
Cain sat down at the bar and was treated to the sight of a nice enough looking woman who seemed done with the day already. "Well looks like you've had it rough today Miss."
She snorted, "Not nearly the case. What's your poison?"
Cain tapped his chin with a metal finger, "Hmm. Handsome Jack Daniels. Four shots." After a minute, the server placed down the drinks and he handed over the cash. He took one shot. "You know, I bet I could put a smile on that pretty face."
She chuckled derisively, "Don't think my guy would appreciate it."
He downed another and placed it back on the bar top with a clack. "And where is he?"
A large finger tapped him on the shoulder. Cain tilted his head back as he stared up at a muscular and...the flat out ugliest man he had ever seen. Cain grabbed his third shot and slowly brought it to his lips and downed it in one swift movement as he never broke eye contact with the man.
Cain was grabbed and thrown the moment his glass landed on a table.
He landed on a duo of men that had been partaking in the revelry that was alcohol and interrupted said revelry.
They took offense to that.
One grabbed him and threw a right cross that caught the tip of his friend's chin when Cain dodged and the other flung him off their table and into the jukebox.
It scratched before shifting to something to suit the incoming 'issues.'
Cain peeled himself off the machine only to duck as large fist instantly occupied the place his face had been a moment before. He kicked out at the man's kneecap and suddenly his leg was bent inward. As he fell, Cain grabbed him around the throat with the displayed metal arm and spun to dodge a man with a machete and snapped his neck and launched the body into the blademan. He took a glance around the bar to see it was full chaos.
Fists flew, battle cries were issued, and people were slammed into whatever was nearby as the bar erupted into a battle royale.
Cain was torn from his thoughts as he was shoulder checked into the wall and took an uppercut then a right hook that snapped his head to the side. He saw a pool-stick and used the wide ended bottom to jab the woman in the temple. In a graceful flail that involved spinning the haft of the pool stick across his palm to recenter it, he smacked away several approaching men and women and left a blue streak across their eye line from the chalk.
Let it be known the rules of a free for all did not discriminate.
Cain whipped one knife from his bandolier then flicked another that was charged with Light into the first's handle that caused the non-Light knife to shatter and spear several of their faces while the Light knife continued it's path and shot through the chest's of four combatants before it stopped by landing in the wall with a shaking twinge.
He heard the displacement of air as multiple somethings came towards him. The human looking Exo flipped up onto a table and kicked seven smaller people out around him. Grunts of displaced oxygen and pain showed he struck true. Cain turned and began to do a small sweep kick landing a blow to each of their skulls with enough for them to crack and the brain inside to bounce around and cause internal bleeding.
Someone tackled him off his high ground and to the floor atop two bodies. They rained blows that impacted the arms that he sent up to defend himself. He sent an elbow into their gut that caused them to double over with a displacement of air. As they bent low, the disguised Exo crashed his head into theirs and they toppled over, skull dented on the frontal lobe.
Cain quickly peeled himself off the floor and looked around. The bar was full of fights and more than the few bodies that he had done in.
There were still a lot of bodies he didn't touch. It seemed only a spark was needed to ignite this powder keg.
Looking around about half of the bars occupants had been done away with in the brawl.
"I guess it's too late to apologize?" He said as he scratched his cheek. That was the wrong thing to say as several nearby fighter's attention was drawn to him. He sighed, it was definitely a Monday.
Well, Cain thought as he cracked his neck, time to get to work.
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
A body bruised and battered flew through the doors of the saloon and past Nisha as she walked up on where a disturbance had been reported. Nodding to Deputy Winger, she drew one of her revolvers and stepped through the swinging and broken doors.
Taking a panning glance, she saw what could only be described as the aftermath of a large battle.
Bodies laid in various states all across the room, some with limbs bent the wrong way, some with shrapnel in wounds or the body itself impaled was such the case on one. None seemed to draw breath. Nisha growled as she looked over the blood painted room.
Who did this in her town?
A clinking of a glass against wood took her attention to the front of the room. Peering down the sights of her pistol, the Sheriff saw a brown haired man with a metal arm and leather ensemble give a satisfied sigh after he placed a shot glass on the counter that had the body of a woman slouched on it, blood pooling around her partially crushed head. He turned and Nisha saw amber eyes light up as he smiled. "Whoo!" He cheered seemingly not having registered her presence. "That was a much needed drink! All that fighting got me thirsty!~"
"You," Nisha called as she approached, her revolver trained on him. "Mind explainin' what happened?"
He looked back at the new arrival, "Hm?" Upon seeing the Sheriff, he slouched. "Ah fuzzbuckets...Would you believe me if I said it wasn't my fault?" The bullet that shot by his ear and though a loose bit of hair showed she did indeed not believe.
He held his hands up slowly.
She used her off hand to bring out a set of cuffs and clacked one around his wrist as she pressed the barrel to the back of his head. As she bent the other wrist into the cuff, Nisha spoke to the man simply for posterity's sake. "You are under arrest for multiple counts of murder and shall be held until an investigation has been conducted. Do you have anything to say?" She asked as she hauled him to his feet.
God this guy was deceptively heavy.
Cain did not assist her. "I recognize the Sheriff has made a decision, but given its a stupid ass decision. I've elected to ignore it."
...Screw it. Winger could carry him.
Nisha reared back her revolver and whipped it across the back of his head. The man dropped like a sack of potatoes with a strange and almost suppressed clang from where the pistol met his head.
Winger watched his boss with wide eyes. She gestured to the now unconscious convict with her head. "You take him to a cell. I'm grabbin' any testimony from those around."
Winger sighed as he went to do as ordered.
An hour and a half later, Cain was awoken due to a bucket of water being splashed on him. He blinked and saw darkness beyond a single table with a light hanging over him. He went to move his arms but saw that they were tied to the chair along with his legs.
That was annoying.
A door opened somewhere and closed then footsteps followed. They were light, muffled from leather. Cain smirked. "Ah! If it isn't the ever lovely Sheriff. How nice of you to show. I'd pull out a chair for you, but it seems I am preoccupied."
"Quiet convict," Nisha growled as she looked over a clipboard. "You are hear-by charged with 67 counts of murder and assault, one count of destruction of property and one count of insulting an officer. What do you say to these charges?"
"Firstly, I did not kill all of them, maybe twenty. Secondly someone's in a bad mood. Haven't gotten laid lately have you?"
Nisha sighed. He was one of those types then. "Two charges. Moving on, we found seventeen total, seven knives in a bandolier, two in either boot, one up either sleeve, and the remaining six stored on a holster under your shirt, and one pisto-"
"Hand-cannon."
Nisha was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"It's a hand-cannon. Not a pistol. Shoot your pistol. Then shoot that. See if you have a wrist after."
"One hand-cannon, and you were subsequently searched for any other firearms and aside from the cybernetic BFG in your pants, none other were found. We found one wallet with ID, 759, three sticks of gum, and a paperclip. All items have been placed in prisoner belongings and will be returned to you should you be found innocent," Nisha placed a roll of what appeared to be tools on the table and laid down an ECHO device and turned it on. "I am Sheriff Nisha and will begin the questioning of Convict Cainstable O'dindoet." She turned back to him. "Anything to say before we begin?"
"...unless you have fuzzy cuffs in there and plan to use them, the whole kinky cop and prisoner routine is more creepy than sexy."
She sighed.
Today was going to be another long, hard day.
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
Hours passed and various methods were used, but Nisha finally had a confession. What methods were used would not be spoke of for the sake of her own sanity and image.
Nisha watched the corpse swing with the light straining of the rope. She paid particular attention to the grin plastered onto his face. The Sheriff had seen death galore and the ways each walked to it. This...was not a response she expected from the recently deceased. Something about this put her on edge.
She shook her head as the small crowd dispersed. It was no matter.
He was dead now.
Night fell quickly, the grin on Cain's face never leaving. As the moon rose high, his body faded away.
Morning came and went the next day.
As the clock in town struck noon, so began Phase Two.
Cain strolled back into town right as the bell chimed, whistling a random tune as his hands were clasped behind his head.
Oh he knew people were looking and whispering. He knew what was going on when one officer radioed in.
Cain walked to his personal gallows and took a seat. This should be quick to begin.
Sure enough only three minutes passed before he sensed two people enter his field of passive Light.
Nisha glared at him from under the brim of her hat. "How the hell are you alive? You're supposed to be dead!"
"I got better," Cain said as he stood and began to stretch, hopping in place and quickly jabbing the air fast as lightning.
"Dying doesn't work that way!"
Cain scoffed as he leaned down to stretch his right leg. "Not with that mindset it won't. I will say though, death by hanging leaves you with such a," bending his head to a 90 angle, the snapping sound from Cain's neck rang though the area, "crick in your neck. Not nice Nish, and after the time we spent together. Sends a guy mixed messages ya know?"
Nisha's hand clenched tightly around her revolver. Then she whipped it at Cain's head and fired.
He dropped like a sack of potatoes, bleeding from a crimson hole on the corner of his forehead, an oddly almost annoyed expression on its face.
Nisha jerked her pistol to Winger. "Check him for a pulse."
Winger moved forward tensed and very slowly. He cautiously put two ungloved fingers to his neck.
Nothing.
He let loose a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Dead." He plainly said.
"Bury him. Now. Under concrete. I want no chance of him somehow surviving that and coming back. I'm going for a drink," shoving the pistol back into its holster, the Sheriff stormed off.
Winger picked up the strangely heavy body of Cain and began walking. "Why did you go through all that just to die? It makes no sense," he muttered.
As the final shovelful of dirt fell on the deep grave, Winger planted the tool in the dirt and leaned on it. He wiped his brow of sweat and looked at the setting sun. "Huh. Took longer than expected. Though boss wanted all the extra precautions so she shouldn't be too mad." The Deputy's gaze shifted to the grave. "You're an odd one Cain O'dindoet. Never seen Sheriff Nisha riled up so much." He offered a silent prayer to the grave of the departed then he himself left.
Night fell and once again, the body faded from its dirt resting place. The concrete fell, and the grave collapsed.
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
Two days had passed and Handsome Jack had been having a quiet week.
His company was doing well.
He only had to airlock a few schmucks so far.
And the damned Raiders and the Nighthawk had been quiet.
That was the highlight.
Now he was about to call Nisha and do the weekly check up on his girlfriend. Right at their usual time at thirty minutes before noon.
Booting up the ECHOcomm link, he waited. She picked up shortly after.
"Hey Nish...you okay?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
Nisha's eyes were wild and her hair was frazzled. The Sheriff had bags under her eyes and her hands were shaking slightly. She looked like she hadn't slept in the last few days. She was currently holding a mug of coffee with several others around her empty and discarded.
"H-Hey!" Her voice squeaked, almost afraid. She calmed herself. "Hey J. I'm fine. I'm fine. Just bandits being annoying. How's the best CEO been?"
He smiled, "It's actually been a quiet week for once. The Nighthawk and the Bandits have been silent. Anything interesting happen down in Lynchwood?"
"Oh," she started as she thought back to the man that had died more times than anyone, "just a reoccurring pest problem. We have it handled though."
The duo continued talking for a while after, and Nisha's stress melted away slowly.
"You know, I'm so glad I got to talk to you," Nisha said laying her hand on the screen, "I really needed to hear your voice." She gave a dry chuckle. "This week has been hell."
Jack laid his hand against hers from his office and gave a genuine smile. "It's no worry Nish. I'm always going to be here for you. I love-" He was cut off as an alarm went off off-screen. "What's that?"
Nisha cursed, "Shit, it's already that time? I gotta go J. Business appointment."
Jack blinked then nodded. He understood. "Alright. Same time next week?"
"You know it." She smiled and he returned it then the screen clicked off.
Nisha scowled, then grabbed her revolver and stormed out.
The time on the clock read 11:59 a.m.
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
The town's clock rang out the twelfth hour of the day and Cain once again strolled into town, a thoughtful expression on his face.
'Winger actually prayed each time...he ain't so bad it seems. Just a bad boss.' Cain thought, ignoring the chatter around him.
'What do you want to do today?' Came the call over his mental link.
'Oh, I think its time to end the fun. But let's make it more hectic yeah?'
'For a Hunter, you really don't act like one.' Alastor chided.
Cain shrugged. 'What here is really a threat? We faced Atheon, Crota, Oryx, Skolas, and Aksis. We have faced Cabal, Vex, Fallen, Hive and Taken. None of them have snuffed out our Light and even when we had our Light unusable and smothered pursuing Mar'ruon past the Reef we survived. Nearly one-thousand years and some change yet they haven't put us down. If they couldn't, what can here? Even then, we have backup now. We can afford to be loud.'
Alastor blinked, 'That was surprisingly deep and well thought out for you.'
'...First of all, rude. Second of all, I'mma do the thing.' Cain finished as he walked over to the Town Hall and sat on the steps and reclined.
'Just be careful. Remember what Lady E-'
'Yeah yeah, "Even a giant can be felled by an ant if arrogance sets in." I remember Al.' The duo went silent as they waited.
He did not need to wait long. There storming up in all her law ridden self, Cain saw the angry figure of Sheriff Nisha.
He grinned as he stood, "Ah. There she is. Right on time."
She scoffed. "I'm done worrying why you keep coming back. I haven't failed in putting you down yet."
Cain waggled his eyebrows as the hand cannon on his hip had a hand laid on the grip loosely. "Ooooh! Someone's cocky~," he finished in a sing-song. "Care to make a bet on it?"
Nisha raised an eyebrow as she raised her revolver. It shook. She had killed him a different way each day, just to try keep him down.
He just
Kept
Coming
Back.
"What's the bet?"
He smiled, "Just a simple little wager between gunslingers. Duel me. You kill me this time by shootin' me. I stop coming back. Of course," his smile seemed to darken sinisterly, "You're aware of what happens if I draw first." The Sheriff cursed.
That was a tough wager.
She sighed. "Fine. If it'll put my town to peace. When?"
His grin was obnoxiously smug.
"How's about now?" He felt his Light tug. His mouth twitched into a frown as he felt another weight settle behind his right thigh out of sight.
He knew exactly what that was.
He knew that weight.
That feeling.
She looked at the clock which had just passed twenty-nine minutes into the hour. "When the clock hits the half." She stated as she placed her revolver in its holster and hovered her hand nearby.
He nodded, a frown on his face as he debated what to do with this new development. Cain's eye looked down as he saw a handle of wood with black and gold metal above it.
His eyes flicked to the clock.
45 seconds.
Fuck.
Nisha smirked. "Nervous Convict?"
He tch'd. "As if Sheriff."
27 seconds.
She chuckled. "Sure seems like it. Anything to say before you lose? Or are those gonna be your last words?"
8 seconds.
The Nighthawk chuckled hollowly, 'Fate, fuck you.' "Nah. Not mine. Yours."
The second hand hit the minute and the clock rang out a single bell.
Like a flash, they drew and Cain fanned the hammer with the speed of lightning, his hand a blur as eight shots rang out.
And the Last Word barked its death knell.
All was silent as Nisha fell, her revolver clattering to the ground, seven holes in her body, one in her head.
Cain slowly held up the fabled hand cannon. He stared at it and growled.
Was this some sort of fucking joke?
'Cain?' Came Alastor's mental voice, full of worry. 'Where did that come from?'
'I don't know!'
'But how-'
'I! Don't! Know!' He took a moment to compose himself, he was still on business. 'Transmat the head, tell Zed to prepare it for Lesson Two. I'm grabbin' the skagg and gettin' outta here. I'm pissed off.' He shoved the Word into his waistband and stormed off.
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
Cain sat in his home on the sofa without his helmet, electronic eyes set in worry while DJ (Dingles Junior) played with his mother outside. He was back in his armor and cloak after discarding the fake literal meat suit he had Dr. Zed cook up for his little jaunt in Lynchwood.
That was a bitch and a half to gather the necessary components to match his hologram.
That smell wasn't getting out of him until he next died.
Yuck.
And it was almost as annoying as much as
avoiding the question on why he wanted a meat suit to look like him.
His hands rested beneath his unfleshed, metal chin, fingers intertwined. He stared at his coffee table at the weapon currently residing in his thoughts. His leg bounced up and down rapidly.
Cain thought back to when he first put on the gift from the Nine.
Thirty.
Minutes.
Thats how long it took for him to finally settle on...five sets of armor to wear. It was made easier by the fact that he didn't have to choose helmets or cloaks.
Most Hunter helmets...did not look the best in his opinion.
He may have been biased though.
Eh.
Cain had laid out on his bed his old Iron Compatriot set, his set made from materials found after slaying Oryx, his set from his time in the Tangled Shore, the set he had modeled after SIVA, and finally his Icarus Drifter set.
So many to choose from and he still had some to go.
Choose.
Choose!
...aaannnd choose!
Cain sighed, fuck it. He randomly tossed three knives up not looking. He selected the pieces that they landed on. Cain modified the arms to accommodate for his shackles, then put on his new look.
Right when he finished clasping on his cloak, he felt a harsh rip of his Light that sent him to one knee. A consciousness brushed against his own like a ghost, whispering something he couldn't understand.
"Fuck!" He lowly cursed. He took a few calming breaths.
It was a one off feeling.
He looked at the cloak seeing as when he put it on is when that happened, it made it the most likely candidate.
The only difference was the eye.
It glowed a bright gold before settling to a brighter, more alive amber color. The eye seemed to stare back.
Cain took a breath and walked out to get Toles' opinion on the look. He'd have Alastor scan it after she left so he didn't worry her.
This...this wasn't good. First the cloak and now this?
A gift from a man he saved and a curse from a man that hunted him in the past.
What the hell did it all mean?
Cain shook his head and unlaced his hands. He picked up the Last Word and set it in a box with the Tex Machina logo spray painted on it. He walked into his room then set it in his hidden armory.
It would sit there until he figured out what to do with it or until he talked to one of his fireteam members for advice.
'In the meantime,' Cain thought while he walked out, 'its time for Lesson Two.'
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
A most curious thing had happened in Hyperion.
Handsome Jack had gotten mail.
A package to be more specific. No return address. Logic stated that he toss it immediately but he was curious. Which is why he had been staring at it in his office trying to make a decision.
For over an hour.
"Ahhhhhhh," Jack groaned as he ran a hand through his hair and laid back in his chair, leaning it back with a squeak. "Dammit! What am I so scared for? Its just a damn box. I doubt anyone is stupid enough to try to kill me. It wouldn't have gotten through anyways if it was. I'm just wondering why the delivery boy looked ready to piss himself...agh fuck it! I'll open the stupid box then feed Butt Stallion." With a look of determination, he undid the binding on the box.
He wasn't expecting what came next.
The sides fell away and two heads sprung up on springs, wobbling each with a movie title card complete with a ring of lights that progressively lit up and shut off.
His eyes widened.
It was Wilhelm and Nisha.
Wilhelm's cybernetic enhanced head was locked in a permanent expression of shock and fear. Nisha... Nisha had a bullet hole through her head and her lips open from a jaw that was slack.
He felt sick.
The head on the left read, 'Wilhelm in Bitchborg Danceoff.' The right one caught the breath in Jack's chest.
Her card read as 'Nisha in Nisha and the High Noon Gunslinger Duel.'
There was a spot in the center he saw a question mark emblazoned on a mirror showing the man's reflection of shock. Handsome Jack's mismatched eyes looked at the card attached. 'Fugly Jack in Lesson Three: Godfall COMING SOON.'
He grit his teeth.
The Nighthawk.
He took a few breaths to try to contain himself.
He couldn't.
Handsome Jack's roar of rage could be heard all throughout the floors of Hyperion. His workers fled quickly. The CEO took a shaky breath. "Alright Nighthawk," he growled. "You want to take me on? I'll give you a fight for the ages." He pushed a button on the intercom calling Marpol.
He was answered promptly.
"Sir?"
"Ready your boys Marpol, all of them, and recruit even more," Jack snarled. "Time for them to earn their pay. We're going to war."
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
There was a knock at Cain's door.
A small flap opened from the bottom of the door and Alastor flew out and up to eye level.
There stood a familiar cybernetic armed woman.
"Hello Miss Gaige. How can I help you?"
She smiled brightly. "Just who I was looking for! Is Cain in?" Al shook his Ghost shell in what she knew was a 'no.' The Mechromancer gave a small cheer. "Perfect! Just two quick questions and maybe a follow up...three, I have three questions."
Alastor tilted his core in amused confusion. He was still slightly wary of the young woman. "Very well Miss Gaige ask away."
"When's Cain's birthday? All of us have been wondering."
His electric eye blinked. Something so innocent? "Oh, it is coming up in a few days. Though he does not celebrate it. Why?"
She immediately blanched, "N-No reason." The redhead's brow furrowed, "Why doesn't he celebrate it? Bad memories?"
Alastor debated just how much information on his partner to give away. Maybe he shou-annnnd she was using the puppy eyes, his one weakness.
Sighing mentally, the Ghost spoke. "Not entirely. He was an orphan as a child Miss Gaige. Cain never celebrated his birthday. The one time Toles, War Hound, and a few others attempted, there was an attack on the City by the Fallen."
A thinking pout was his response. "I see...okay second question." At this her eyes began to gleam as she came very close to him and began to study him up with her eyes, a strange hunger in them. "How do those pieces float around you? I've seen you have one or two different sets so I theorize they're interchangeable but the metal doesn't seem special. Is it a reverse polarity type deal?" A frown marred her features as she cupped her chin with her metal hand. "No, thats not it. It doesn't explain how it spins and detaches pieces when you make certain expressions. Maybe-" as she began to ramble Alastor blinked once.
Peculiar.
"Miss Gaige."
"Could it be gravity based?...No that-"
"Miss Gaige." He tried to speak louder.
"Could it be something similar to Tediores' tech? No, doesn't digistruc-"
"Miss Gaige!"
The girl stopped mid-tangent and looked at him with a getting caught in the cookie jar expression, her face red. "S-Sorry..." the red haired anarchist mumbled.
"It's no big deal. If you must know, my shell is made from metal that interacts with a paracasual field based on the powers Cain has displayed."
Her eyes immediately began to twinkle. "So would it be possible for you to just take any metal and interact with it?"
Alastor thought for a moment. He recalled the Cat Shell...he shivered then replied. "Yes it would be possible I believe."
"Awesome! Okay. Okay. Last question. Promise." The grin on her face concerned him. "Have you seen Toles or any members of his team around?"
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
Cain was currently frustrated.
What was the reason you ask?
The reason was simple.
The drive to his ship was too damn long.
Even on the speedy Hornet he called his own, it normally took a little under an hour to get to his secure location. Normally, it wouldn't be an issue, but due to Sanctuary now being a floating city far from its origin point it easily doubled the time. Cain would have had Al help him just transmat it, but he felt like having some time to himself.
He regretted that.
The Exo wouldn't have been too upset about the time, but Bullymongs had somehow managed to make the place their home since he was last there.
As he drew his trusty Eyasluna, he sighed at seeing the innumerable dens.
This was gonna be his whole day wasn't it?
Seeing the piles of dung around, he sighed once more.
Yeah, it would be.
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
Gaige had managed to gather up the necessary people in the Crimson Raider HQ. This group of misfits consisted of War Hound, Toles, the Vaulters, Moxxi, Lilith, and Roland.
Claptrap refused to come.
No one was complaining about that.
Gaige clapped her hands together. "So, you're all probably wondering why I brought you here."
Various shrugs and grumbles were her reply.
Without missing a beat, the bright girl continued. "Well then! I found out Cain's birthday and figured we should do something for him." A hand was raised at that. It was Fox if she remembered right.
"Um, lassie not sure if ya've 'eard but, last time we tried it din't end too well."
"I have. Which is why I have a foolproof plan!"
"And that is?" Came the voice of Fox's debatably saner counterpart, Skitter.
"Simple. The guys go and solve problems around the area and Sanctuary to make sure nothing within a few dozen miles will cause any issues. Us ladies having knowhow of party planning and decoration," she waved around to Tannis, Moxxi, Lilith, Maya, and herself, "will set up the party here." She tapped a metal finger to her chin as logistics ran through her mind. "Hm, though gathering materials may take a day or two so we may need help with that."
The blunette among them spoke up, "What're you thinkin' G?"
The nineteen-year-old Mechnomancer smiled and began to explain her plans.
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
/ / \ \
He should of expected this after what he sent Jack.
Cain sighed as he ducked behind a piece of rock that was lit up with a crack of gunfire. The source was many soon to be corpses in yellow ensembles of Hyperion.
But sometimes you gotta look inside yourself and ask, 'What am I willing to put up with today?'
A bolt was pulled in order to check proper loading, and snapped back into place as Cain took aim with the Zhalo Supercell.
'Not fucking this,' Cain thought as his weapon roared and men fell, lighting coursing through them.
The unique weapon quickly made short work of the Hyperion soldiers. How they even found where he was at was beyond the Hunter. Ejecting the empty magazine, he loaded another finding the unneeded action therapeutic and he stood.
"This the spot Al?" He inquired.
Alastor appeared from the ether, green crystal shell shining. "This was where the signal last originated from."
Cain paused to think while scanning the area for any more hostiles.
There had been a strange signal emanating from here that seemed very familiar to them.
Considering he had yet to see anything resembling Darkness or any of its lackey's in this system? It was concerning.
Walking around to a cave that led deeper into the crust of the planet, Alastor quickly opened his core to shed light on the interior. They walked for miles, winding deeper and deeper into Pandora.
Cain was brought from his mind when his foot caught on something and he looked down to see what it was.
It was a shattered Vex Minotaur chassis, the right arm was severed and laying a few scant feet away.
Cain knelt down to examine it and shared a look with his Ghost, the neural symbiosis conveying a long conversation with many emotions and even more questions in seconds.
One thing was certain however.
Pandora and the surrounding systems were now in a whole lot of danger, and they weren't ready.
Not by a long shot.