Chapter 8: Salvage

"Is you never cold, ma'am?", Private DeStepan asked. His voice was muffled by a thick scarf covering his face from the nose downwards, which in cooperation with a furry beanie and earflaps made it absolutely impossible to discern any distinctive features about the soldier's appearance.

"No", Maya replied without lowering her binoculars. She stood in the bow of the craft like a figurehead, tall and unshaken by anything the rough sea and the wind could throw at her. "Courtesy of being a Siren."

"I see", the Private muttered. "So... once this mission's over, me and Burns will be transferred elsewhere?"

"Depends on your behavior during the mission." Maya had picked up DeStepan and his pal Burns at the Ferry Port and now the trio was on its way to the Southern Shelf. By boat. At least they weren't forced to use Claptrap's old barge, but even the Hyperion speedboat had spent three hours at sea already.

Maya's enthusiasm at going back in the field had been severely curbed once she discovered the Fast Travel station in Liar's Berg was marked as inoperable by the network. The quick little salvage run had been growing longer ever since: first, Maya had travelled to Digistruct Peak and asked Tannis for help, but the scientist had been unable to reconnect Liar's Berg by digital means. She had explained something about hardware failure, the effects of cold weather on high-tech equipment and when Maya had eyed the first syringe Tannis was innocently hiding behind her back, the Siren had departed.

With no friendlies left on the Shelf, the only way to the Soaring Dragon was by conventional means: Maya had requested an Outrunner in Three Horns and driven all the way to the Ferry Port, getting into a serious quarrel with a particularly vicious Bullymong on the way. She didn't mind letting off some steam though, and it was shortly before complete sundown that she reached the station.

Ferry Port outpost had been set up next to the old jetty where Maya and the other Vault Hunters had reached mainland Pandora so long ago: A watchtower on the cliff with a thicket of antennae on the roof, a Hyperion freighter that served as living quarters and something that Mordecai had once called "our cute little navy", a name that stuck firmly. The "navy" consisted of Claptrap's ship, the freighter, a fan boat (souvenir from Aegrus), a floating junkyard (a number of small barges and rafts tied together in which the flotsam piled higher and higher) and three small speedboats the salvage crews had found in Opportunity.

The outpost had been constructed solely for surveillance purposes: the three men here kept an eye on the seas from the smoldering remains of the Wildlife Exploitation Preserve to the Southern Shelf, assisted by some equally salvaged drones. Nobody knew how many ships roamed the icy seas and if any of them tried to make landfall, Lilith deemed it beneficial to know well enough in advance.

Over time, however, Ferry Port had developed a secondary purpose. On a planet with omnipresent mortal danger, the threat of death or pain just wasn't original enough to keep people in line on their daily routine. Laziness, sloppiness and small-scale insubordination had originally been punished by tying the culprit up and locking him in a room with Claptrap for an hour or two. Sending them off to Ferry Port to freeze and pall for a week while still doing generally useful work had eventually been considered a far more humane method of punishment by everyone (the culprits included and Claptrap excepted).

Naturally, the soldiers had been jumping at a chance to leave the station.

"So, what we're about to do", DeStepan started out, "we're making a quick run to the Soaring Dragon, mark capital weaponry, tie it to the coastline and leave again. Oh, and reconnect the Fast Travel in Liar's Berg if possible. Did I miss anything?"

Maya would have smiled, if the soldier hadn't been going on and on about the mission's objectives ever since they had climbed aboard the speedboat. On one hand, she could understand him: this was his chance to cut his time at Ferry Port short and he didn't want to screw up. On the other hand, he was starting to get on her nerves in biblical proportions. "No, Private, this is everything and now shut up, before I staple your lips together."

DeStepan opened his mouth to answer and decided just in time to nod, rather than to say another word. He was originally from Overlook and had enlisted the moment Dr. Zed had declared his skull-shivers to be healed. As a native Pandoran, he was a good fighter and absolved Digistruct Peak with honors, but he wasn't too fond of the strict hierarchy within the Raiders. After a number of arguments with higher ranking officers and on one occasion even with Mordecai, he had found himself at one of the colder spots on Pandora's surface.

"I've got the coastline on the radar", Burns announced through an open window on the bridge. "And a thermal image of something big and hot. Five degrees starboard. I'm just going to presume it's the Dragon and not a leviathan in order to sleep better."

"Leviathan?", Maya inquired, while pointing her binoculars in the indicated direction. Yes, there was a solid black shape on the horizon, visible even in the scattered light of Elpis and the stars.

"Ever seen any of those big fish skeletons on shore?", Burns retorted. "Now, imagine those being alive and thriving and circling under your keel. Or, the more I think about it, don't. Do not, and I repeat, do not think about huge, monstrous fishes for your personal comfort."

Maya sighed. "Too late now. Anyway, it's most probably the Dragon. Alter course accordingly."

"Copy that." The speedboat turned without slowing down, jumping over a wave in the process. The craft shook violently, when it slammed back into the water, and DeStepan toppled backwards onto the deck. Maya remained upright.

"Burns?"

"Aye, ma'am?"

"You seem to know a bit about maritime life. What's a sharay?"

"Cross-breed of a shark and a steam roller. 'Bout as big as a human, huge, flat fins, poisonous tail and a lot of teeth. Normally not in these waters, though. They prefer it warm."

"Thanks."

"Always a pleasure."

The Soaring Dragon was now clearly in sight. The flamethrower in the figurehead was still active, but lacking intensity and reach. Probably running out of fuel. The sails had fared badly in the winds, they were ripped and torn. Most notably, the freighter had tilted aft. It was still stuck firmly in the brash ice, meters above the waterline, but the stern was lower than the bow. Maybe Scooter was right and the ice was melting. Or maybe something had caved in below the stern or another one of over a dozen possible explanation immediately provided by Maya's vivid fantasy.

"Right, drop me off at the ship and move on to Gateway Harbor", the Siren instructed the soldiers. "Fix the Fast Travel, if you can, and come find me afterwards. Tie down Big Bertha on the Ice Sickle on your way. There's a SDU full of chains and cables below decks."

"Yes, ma'am!", Burns said. DeStepan remained silent, probably still fearing the stapler.

The speedboat slowed down a bit. Apart from the regular flamethrower bursts, the ship and the settlement along its destroyed starboard side were wrapped in darkness. Burns carefully maneuvered the boat closer towards the frozen surface, until Maya could jump ashore.

"Don't keep me waiting!", she called over, as the speedboat turned in a tight circle, heading out of the bay.

"Don't worry, ma'am, we'll be back in a heartbeat!", Burns shouted. The subtitles read: After all, we'll need you to put in a good word for us with Lilith, so she lets us leave Ferry Port.

Maya entered the settlement through the big, sheet metal gate. Some discarded weapons lay around alongside a psycho in full body armor which apparently had proven too thick for the Rakk to chew through and too heavy to carry away. All other corpses were gone without a trace, but Maya knew were they had lain. She couldn't help but smile: It was here they had first fought together as a team. Out of necessity, but nevertheless. She remembered her anger at Salvador, because he had just rushed into the enemy camp without any precautions, her annoyance with Axton, because he had constantly tried to shield her from harm, as if she couldn't defend herself, her awe at Zero's unparalleled skills, her worry about Gaige who had hardly ever shot a gun before and her nervousness about Krieg, who was only with the group because she had told the others to let him come along, a thought that didn't seem too good once she saw again what he could do to human beings.

Maya passed below the figurehead, remembering how at this very spot Axton had tried to inject Gaige with an Instant-Health, only to break the needle at her robotic arm in the hurry. She could almost hear him defend himself: "If in doubt, inject in the left arm, always the left arm, that's what they taught me! By the way, Badass over... ah, never mind." Then she heard someone whistle a tune and banned any memories from her mind.

A man stepped out of a dark hut, carrying a large crate with both hands. He had taped a flashlight to his hat, but the light of course didn't shine on him and made it in fact harder to see him. Maya ducked behind a barrel. Despite everything that had happened, she had massive scruples about shooting an unarmed person. Nevertheless, she drew a pistol. The man veered away from her position, walking in the direction of the ship's starboard side. Maya followed him, silent as a cat (though not as silent as Zero). The constant whistling of an oddly familiar tune droned out every crunch of snow under her boots anyhow.

Eventually, Maya was close enough and jabbed the barrel of her pistol against the stranger's neck. "Don't move. Hands in the air."

The man complied immediately, dropping the crate. "Oh, Mariajesusandmoses, please don't shoot me, I've got a family at home, five kids, a cute little kitten..."

"Shut it. Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm just looking around... sorry, really sorry, I didn't mean to take your stuff, this whole site has been abandoned ever since we came here..."

"We?"

"Oh sure, the rest of the crew is up ahead... wait a sec, you know what, they're surely waiting for me, because I was supposed to look for some provisions, so they'll come looking for me any moment now and you don't want to stand up against the big lads, trust me, so you better let me go..."

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"I'm originally from Cerberus, yes. What gave me away?"

Maya paused for a moment. This man appeared very sane to her. Decidedly no Ripper, probably not even a bandit in the common sense. He was walking around the settlement without a weapon at the ready, which indicated he and his peers had been here long enough to get comfortable.

"Can I go now?", the man from Cerberus asked, when Maya remained silent for too long.

"Not quite yet. Did you demolish the Fast Travel in Liar's Berg?"

"No! I didn't! That was Pete and Sickles, they disconnected the generator and removed the solar cells..."

"And why all that? What are you doing here?"

"We're trying to get the ship seaworthy."

"In order to...?"

"Pillage, plunder and earn enough to get out of here. We came for Captain Blade's treasure but now some Vault Hunters took it. So, we are a bunch of broke, demoralized and lost treasure hunters who just want to get off this planet, back to our families, and did I mention the kitten...?"

"Who is your leader?"

"Torben!", someone shouted up ahead. Flashlight rays and the sound of booted feet on snow were drawing closer from the dark huts and shelters crouched beneath the massive hull of the Dragon. Another voice called: "Torben!"

"That's my pals", Torben from Cerberus explained. "Mind to let me go now?"

"All right, we'll go. Slow and steady. No sudden movements. Let's talk to your pals, shall we? And you still owe me an answer concerning your leadership."

"Oh, we just call her the Captain. Missing eye, prosthetic leg, prosthetic arm with an enormous hook, red hair..."

"Scarlett", Maya muttered.

"Eh... no? Her hair is red, not scarlet and how would you know in any case..."

"Torben!" The first man of the search party had spotted his companion and his predicament. He whistled piercingly and one by one the remaining members of the gang appeared and formed a semicircle around Maya and her prisoner.

"Thanks for coming!", Torben shouted happily. "See, lady, I told you, didn't I?"

"Shut it!" Maya assessed the men gathered in front of her. Until now, six had arrived, but she heard the shuffling of more coming. They were outfitted like DeStepan, lots of coats and scarves, and each carried a weapon, mostly rifles and shotguns. One guy in particular stood out: He was huge, wore crude steel armor on his torso, a helmet with a faceplate and leaned on a long harpoon.

"So... what now?", one of the adventurers broke the silence.

"Where's the Captain? I'd like to have a chat with her."

"Not 'ere, lady", the harpooner replied in a deep and hoarse voice. "Not even on board now. Ye want te talk, ye gotta talk te us."

"Fine. You lot are treasure-hunters, aren't you?"

The men exchanged glances and murmured approval. Even the harpooner nodded.

"And you want to get off this planet?"

"Why're ye interested, lassie?!", the harpooner boomed

"Because in that case, I'm certain we could make a deal. I'm a member of the Crimson Raiders, we have sure and safe off-world connections. If you work with us, you'll be on your way back home within less than a year. No need for you to repair this ship or risk your lives as pirates."

"Hey, that's the witch!", a newcomer shouted. Maya recognized the paunchy, black bearded figure by the voice: It was Mercer, the ship's cook from the Buccaneers Bacchanal. "She's the one that killed half our crew at Magny's Lighthouse AND the one to take Blade's treasure!"

"Is that true?", Torben asked and tried to turn his head, in order to get a glimpse at his captor.

"Does it matter?", Maya responded. "Sand under the bridge. As it is, you want to go hunt treasure somewhere else and I have the means to help you..."

"Release Torben!", another man demanded. "No need for you to keep a hostage, if you want to help us."

Seeing the murderous glare in the eyes of Mercer and a small number of other adventurers, the Siren shook her head. "I'm sorry, but unless you disarm Mercer and his mates there, I wouldn't feel too safe without some leverage."

"Safe?!", the cook spluttered. "Are you kidding me? You could kill all of us with a thought, if you wanted to! Don't listen to her singing! She's a goddamn Siren! And as an honest sailor, I don't intend to repeat my ancestors mistakes!"

"Oi, calm down, mate!", the harpooner intervened. "Did ye notice, she 'asn't killed us with a thought yet? She jus' wants te talk and I really want te 'ear 'er out."

"Thank you." Maya gave the huge man a gracious nod. "Now, it's really a simple matter. The Crimson Raiders could always use a number of tough, sane, resourceful and battle hardened gentlemen like yourselves. You've come here as treasure hunters, maybe even Vault Hunters, haven't you? You don't need to become bandits in order to get off this world. In fact, you don't deserve it. Join the Raiders. All our men get paid handsomely, board and lodge are free and since Hyperion is gone, the mortality rates are at an all time low."

"What would we have to do, if we joined up?", someone asked.

"Whatever you prefer: Salvage Hyperion facilities, patrol the territory, pull guard duty, if you're in for some ... excitement, you can join the hunter squads and track down rampant Threshers or Stalkers."

"Where's the catch?", Mercer asked slyly.

"Well, there is still a risk a getting killed, but I take it you're all familiar with that risk", Maya replied, shrugging. "It's your choice. Repair this wreck here and..."

And in that instant she felt something slam against her head. She impact knocked her off her feet and even before she fell to the ground, she felt her shield collapse with the usual electrical sting at her hip. She saw Torben fall to the ground as well and wondered why, but once she was lying backwards in the snow, the treasure hunter jumped to his feet and ran over to his colleagues.

Sniper. Someone had managed to score a headshot on her. Without her shield, she would have been dead now. In any case, it had been an incredible shot, given that Torben was fine.

Before Maya could get back on her feet, a grenade landed neatly between her spread legs, trailing a thick cloud of smoke. Within a heartbeat, the Siren found herself inside a protective cocoon of white, odorless haze, while chaos and shouting erupted over in the pirates' camp. More shots rang and while Maya rolled backwards and came up on one knee, she could see wisps of smoke curling when bullets went through.

"Witchcraft!", Mercer yelled at the top of his lungs. "I told you, I told y..."

"Ye lousy, greasy... can opener!", the harpooner roared. "Ye understand what ye did there?!"

"All right, ma'am?" Burns and DeStepan appeared out of the mist, their weapons at the ready. Both had donned their Crimson Lance integral helmets, as the infrared goggles inside would allow them to see through the smoke.

"I'm fine", Maya proclaimed, while her shield recharged with a soothing, humming sound.

"Shall we engage?", Burns continued. "And if so, who? There seems to be some infighting going on."

Without waiting any longer Maya ran out of the smoke screen, armed with only a pistol. She assessed the situation automatically, the way she had been taught over and over: By now, the numbers of the pirates had swelled to a whooping two dozen, but nine of them, including Torben, were standing back and nervously watching the show, while the rest was quite equally divided: Mercer and a gang of six were arguing and in some cases already brawling with the harpooner and his friends, eight men in total.

"Oh, there she is!", Torben cried, once Maya appeared out of the smoke.

One of Mercers men immediately made a dash for her with a huge Torgue-shotgun, but she didn't even flinch, raised her pistol and was pleasantly surprised by the burst of automatic fire, coming from the smoke, that dropped the attacker.

The harpooner, who had lifted Mercer off the ground by the lapel with one hand, turned towards the Siren. "Lady, let me explain, these bilge rats 'ere were trying to off ye, which I'm personally terrible sorry about..."

Maya noticed one of the brawlers lifting a sniper rifle and pointing it in her direction. Not this time, sucker. The tattoos on her left arm glowed, as her hand felt for the place beyond places and ripped a part of it through the barriers of space and time. A blue sphere closed around the sniper and yanked him bodily into the air, his weapon lost on the ground. Flexing her fingers, the Siren adjusted the gravity she could pull from that other place, directing the force to attract the remainders of Mercer's gang, excluding the cook himself, who remained in the harpooner's grip.

"Now, that's what I call witchcraft", a man on the ground croaked, who had been in a fistfight with one of Mercer's comrades.

"And you are going to trust someone who can pull off shit like that?!", Mercer roared, unfazed by his own awkward situation.

"I'm trusting her as far as the muzzle of my sawed-off!", one of the adventurers replied. "But at least I want to hear what she has to say."

"Because right now it sounds a whole fucking lot better than what the Captain has to offer", another man chimed in.

"Little help!", someone in the tangle of bodies high in the air piped.

"Speaking of your Captain", Maya intervened, "do you know about her long record of betrayal and backstabbing? Mercer, why don't you tell your colleagues here about what happened to Sandman? To Big Sleep? Herbert? Didn't she send her last crew into a fight against six Vault Hunters, while she herself raced towards Blade's treasure?"

Mercer was staring daggers, but everyone else looked reasonably distrustful. Including the men in Phaselock, wherefore Maya released them. They piled up on the ground, moaning and grunting and not daring to disentangle themselves.

"Anyhow, you can still stay here and patch up this ship, before the ice breaks. Your decision and I thoroughly respect people who want to try their luck with Pandora on their own." Maya stepped forwards. No one lifted a weapon. "But if you want to join the Raiders, feel free to come to Sanctuary."

"And give up our freedom, eh?!" Mercer was nothing if not fearless.

"Don't know about you, but I actually prefers people who pay me for putting my ass on the line", a man with a bionic jawbone said.

"Here, we even have to scavenge our own provisions!", Torben added.

"Aye, I'd prefer myself some solid mercenaries work te this mess 'ere", the harpooner said.

"How are we supposed to fix this ship anyhow? The whole damn right half of this wreck is ripped open like a gutted fish!", a small fellow with a high fur cap and a long moustache complained.

"Oh, go to hell you weak, foolish, fearful..." While continuing to list pejorative adjectives, Mercer drew a pistol, quicker than Maya would have expected of the paunchy cook, and shot a dent in the harpooner's faceplate. The huge man collapsed and the freed cook immediately turned on Maya, holding his finger down on the trigger. The Siren shifted through the ringing shots, an easy feat, as they were all wildly off-target, and returned fire.

As did DeStepan, Burns and three of the adventurers.

Mercer staggered under the onslaught, but somewhere on his way he must have come across a very powerful shield, because he kept on shooting, while quickly withdrawing towards the ship. Then the harpooner got back on his feet. Blood was running from under his faceplate, but he roared and threw his lance. The massive, vicious harpoon finally broke the shield. The tip pierced Mercer's shoulder. A nova of electrical energy blasted outwards with the cook in the middle, but it was too far away to hurt anyone. Maya curled her left hand into a fist and space performed its little dance for her. Mercer was dragged back towards the crowd of mercenaries and died suspended in mid-air. When Maya released the corpse, the harpooner immediately went over to reclaim his weapon.

"Hank, are you okay?!", Torben cried.

"Been worse", the harpooner gnarled. "Bastard! And couldn't cook for shit."

"So, I take it you all want to sign up with the Crimson Raiders now?", Maya asked.

Some men immediately answered: "Aye", others merely nodded and one or two quietly slipped away. They wouldn't pose a problem, though, in contrast to Scarlett herself, wherever the hell she had hidden away. She would probably find out just by waiting for her.

"Alright then, I'm sure you didn't hoof it all the way from Wurmwater, so grab your stuff and we'll get out of here via Liars Berg's Fast Travel!", Maya continued, naturally taking charge of these men.

"Ma'am!", DeStepan spoke up shyly, "what about the guns?"

The Siren turned sharply and the Private staggered backwards, hastily covering his lips. "The guns have frankly slipped my mind. Thank you for reminding me, DeStepan. And don't worry - I don't even have a stapler with me."

"A stapler?", Burns asked bewildered.

"Never mind. Hey, Torben, come here! Did you find any capital weaponry on board this wreck while trying to repair it? If so, lead the way. We're going to need it."