Timothy took in the view of the distant sunrise peeking over the towers of junk that surrounded New Haven. It was almost charming in a dilapidated sort of way. He hefted the sacks of food into the back of the truck and made space amongst the jugs of water he'd bought earlier. The price gouging around town for stuff was ridiculous, but it wasn't like they didn't have the money. Angel hadn't even argued the need to rip off another vending machine in order to get enough supplies for their trip this time.
If fact, Angel had been surprisingly cooperative ever since the sudden news he shared yesterday evening. After dinner, they'd gone out for another impromptu shooting lesson where he'd informed her of the planet's change of ownership. Okay, so maybe dropping that piece information on someone while they were shooting a gun with live ammunition wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, but she'd taken it rather well all things considered. Once the initial shock wore off, Angel had also found it strange Jack hadn't thought to do the same thing. Efficient, she had called it, and Timothy was inclined to agree. Once the conversation had turned to what they were going to do about it, Timothy was pleased to discover that she had no more intention of trying to fight a losing war than he did.
Her reaction had honestly surprised him. Angel seemed to genuinely care about the people who lived here and he hadn't expected her to be ready to leave them so easily. Then again, this was Jack's daughter after all. After their conversation yesterday evening, it was hard to deny that he'd been a big influence in her life. That conversation had been all kinds of fucked up. The fact that she'd barely bat an eye over it made it all the more disturbing. The relationship she had described with her dad sounded more like Stockholm Syndrome than a wholesome family dynamic. On the other hand, Timothy had never had to worry about accidentally killing people with his mind, so he might've been a bit biased.
Timothy might have also been more than a bit biased since he knew what Jack's ultimate plans for Angel would've been. Regardless of how Jack had treated her for the rest of her life, he had still intended to strap her down to some sick torture device. But when Angel had insisted that her father had truly cared for her, Timothy realized that he was never going to tell her the truth. He knew he'd made a promise. He knew it was wrong, but he didn't want to be the one to crush her completely. He'd already been the one to kill her father; he wouldn't be the one to kill his memory too.
Deciding to tune out those less than pleasant thoughts, Timothy made his way back into town to meet back up with Angel. They had until morning to pack up and go, and he wasn't about to overstay his welcome. By the time he climbed the stairs up to Angel's room, she was just locking the door behind her as she wrung out her wet hair. It was the last shower she might see in a while and Timothy couldn't blame her for taking advantage. He certainly had.
"Ready to go?"
"Yes," she nodded and the two of them made their way out of the hotel and into the dusty street. As they crossed the center of town, Angel hung back for a moment to take a slow look around. "You know… I'm really going to miss this place."
Timothy couldn't say he felt the same. "Why? We were here less than a day."
"For you maybe, but I've spent so long watching over New Haven," she sighed. "The town, the people… it feels like home."
Aaaand now I feel like a jerk. Timothy fished around for something inspirational to say that would break her funk, but came up dry. "Well, uh – look on the bright side: we can find a new one."
Angel fell back into step at his side. "And where would that be?"
"Anywhere but Pandora," he shrugged. "I'm not really into the 'kill or be killed' thing," he answered absently. He really hadn't given much thought to the idea or where they might go if they could get off the planet. As he considered it now, Timothy realized that there was really only one place that he'd wanted to go ever since this whole mess started.
"...Actually, I was thinking about going home," he said once they reached the truck. "It'd be nice to see my family again. I mean, it's gonna be awkward as hell since they all think I'm dead… buuut I'm sure they still kept all my stuff in my room."
Angel furrowed her brows at this. "That... must have been hard on them."
Timothy settled into the driver's seat. "Yeah, but now I'll be coming back – and debt free – what's not to love?"
"How will they even recognize you?"
"They don't have to recognize me, I know them," he countered. "Once we get the whole emotional trauma thing sorted out, I'll introduce you to my mom and we can ahhh… put together a puzzle or something."
"So you're just going to waltz up to your family's doorstep – after they think you're dead – looking like a complete stranger with some random girl on your arm... and we're going to have a family night?" Angel smirked.
"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds so... y'know, I'll just say it my way – with more enthusiasm and less snark." The engine rumbled to life beneath them and he glanced over his shoulder to slowly pull out of town.
"Not to stifle your… enthusiasm, but how do you intend to get us there? I don't think Tassiter's free ride extends to us."
Timothy slowly navigated through the junkyard as he thought over their options. None came to mind. "We'll figure it out when we get there."
Out of the corner of his eye, he was surprised to see her lift her shoulders in a slight shrug. "I assumed you'd say that."
Ouch. Okay, so maybe his idea of planning – wasn't, but it's not like they'd know much until they got to Tartarus. "Y'know, it's actually kinda funny that we went through so much to avoid going to Tartarus Station and now we have to go there anyway."
"Yeah. Funny," she said offhandedly, her attention now focused on her ECHO device. She really could stand to have a slightly better sense of humor about everything.
Well, maybe he could still get a rise out of her regardless. "But you are driving later – and no powers, that's cheating."
That seemed to have worked since Angel lowered her ECHO device with a frown. "I don't think that's a…" she trailed off, her eyes locked on the far horizon.
"Nooope, not letting you weasel outta this again," he wagged his finger from the steering wheel. "Hey. Hey, you listening?"
Angel pointed toward the sky. "Do you see that?"
Timothy glanced up and did a double-take as their truck lurched to a halt. What began as something the size of a finger on the horizon was getting larger – and quickly. As they pulled closer, he could make out three distinct shapes and the bright yellow of Hyperion glinting in the sunlight.
"Those don't look like transport ships," Angel said.
"No shit. Those are Hyperion assault barges. Let's get out of here." Without hesitation, Timothy buried his foot on the accelerator and the truck kicked out a cloud of dust as it roared through the junkyard.
Angel righted herself in her seat from the sudden jolt. "We're just going to leave?!"
"Yeah, that's exactly what we're doing." Timothy checked the side mirror to assure himself that they were a fair distance away from the town. Hopefully, Hyperion would be too busy with whatever it was they were doing to care about a single vehicle.
"We can't just leave them," Angel insisted as she whipped around to face him.
"Yes, we can – easily! Remember how we said we're not going to get involved? This is us: Not. Getting. Involved." Timothy struggled to control the truck as they flew around a corner at full speed.
"But they'll die."
Timothy tore his eyes away from the road for a moment. "Look, if you want to do something, ECHO them a warning. But we're leaving."
"No." Angel slammed her hands onto the dashboard and the steering wheel went stiff in Timothy's hands as the car powered down and skidded to a halt. Unprepared for the sudden stop, Timothy rebounded off the steering wheel.
"W-what the hell are you doing?" Timothy coughed out as he rubbed his aching chest.
"There are innocent people there. Families. Children. We are not going to leave them to die. You said you got into a fight with my father because he was going to destroy New Haven. You killed my father because of New Haven. Don't make that be for nothing now."
Timothy seethed in silence as Angel's words tore into him. What had begun as an angry tirade had taken on a near pleading quality by the end. The same way he had pleaded to Jack…
She was right.
Timothy knew she was right. He was angry and scared and cowardly and everything she said was true. He slumped back in his seat and knifed a hand through his hair as he considered the girl – the woman – opposite him. Angel's jaw was locked and her hands clutched at the dashboard as her entire body shook with anticipation of his response. And she was beautiful. She sat ready to fight him for the lives of people she barely knew – that had all but abandoned her – and he knew he'd already lost. Jack had always prided himself on being a hero, but across from him sat a person half his size and ten times as courageous as he'd ever been and Timothy was in awe of it.
"You know this is insane, right?" he smiled ruefully as he restarted the car. "We're prooobably gonna die."
Angel waved him off, "I guess we'll figure that out when we get there."
Huh. That really didn't sound all that reassuring now that he was on the receiving end. Maybe she had a sense of humor after all.
New Haven was falling. The sounds of battle and bloodshed reverberated around Roland as he barked orders to the fleeing civilians. The constant chatter poured from his ECHO as the town's defenders tried to coordinate a defense against the sudden invasion. Only Angel's warning had given them a chance to prepare for the coming onslaught. Even then, things were looking grim.
This wasn't some disorganized bandit camp he and his friends were ambushing, these were professional soldiers. They hadn't fought a battle like this since their days against The Lance, and The Lance hadn't been this well equipped. Combat barges slowly circled the battlefield below as snipers on board took pot-shots at their positions. The fact that the barges hadn't opened fire with their own guns was the only reason the town was still standing.
But why hadn't they? The cannons mounted on them would have been more than enough to level every building in town, but even after their initial assault had been repelled, they still hadn't used them. They wanted something. It was only only explanation that made any sense. Hyperion's deadline had given everyone a week to get off planet and they were attacking them after only a day. There were only two things they could be here for: the Vault Hunters themselves, or Angel. And only the latter involved leaving anyone alive.
Roland slid back into cover as bullets ricocheted off the windowsill. They'd been forced to retreat to the second floor of Helena's office as the soldiers streamed in through the front gates. Brick was defending the lower entrance to the building while Helena crouched at another window a few feet away, her machine gun perched on the sill as it vomited rounds into the town square below. He leaned out of cover just in time to catch sight of a shockwave rippling through the air in front of Scooter's Catch-A-Ride.
Lilith emerged with a gout of flame and even more filled the air as her SMG rained fire into the group of soldiers still alive after her entrance. She flashed Roland a thumbs up moments before her voice came over the ECHO, "This side's clear for now. I'm heading over to the other side of town!"
A body suddenly plummeted out of the sky, dead before it hit the ground, and Mordecai's laughter filtered over the ECHO. "Another one for ol' Bessie! Me and Blood can handle the snipers, you guys make sure no one's creepin' up on my ass."
That went without saying. The was a certain harmony to the way the four of them fought through the chaos. They'd worked together for so long, there was little need for words between them. Each knew what they needed to do and Roland never doubted their ability to do it, but there were still only four of them. The rest of the town may be armed to the teeth, but they weren't soldiers.
An explosion shook the surrounding buildings and Roland immediately grabbed his ECHO: "Report in!"
"We got trouble, Roland," Mordecai's voice was the first to respond, almost drowned out by the sound of gunfire. "We got bots incoming – lot's of 'em!"
"Brick – Helena," Roland barked. "Defend the courtyard. I'm going to support them."
Helena nodded, "I'll lay down cover fire once you get to the door."
"Hold down the fort," Roland called out to Brick as he rushed by.
"You know it," was Bricks only response and the giant of a man hefted the rocket launcher on his shoulder. Leaning out the doorway, Brick sent a salvo of rockets into the courtyard. Roland shut his eyes against the explosions as the advancing troops were turned into a flaming inferno.
The sound of Brick's laughter followed Roland out into the street. Ducking low to the ground, he scrambled from building to building as he slowly made his way through the backstreets of the town. Passing by a doorway, he met the eyes of the family huddling inside. The father held a gun pointed towards him with a shaking hand as he and his wife clutched their daughter between them.
"Stay inside," he cautioned and the mother had to pull the daughter closer as the girl tried to squirm lose.
Continuing past the building, Roland tried to shake off the feeling of discomfort he felt at leaving the family behind. The streets were littered with families, and he knew each and every one of them. He'd talked to them; worked with them; lived among them. New Haven was his home and these people were depending on him to keep them safe. He wouldn't let himself fail them.
As he finally made it to the site of the blast, his eyes were met with a scene of utter destruction. The gate that guarded the north side of town had been utterly demolished. Pieces of debris and body parts were scattered over the ground and a thin cloud of dust stifled any attempt to see what was beyond the edge of town. New Haven's militia scrambled over the area attempting to drag the survivors to safety. Suddenly, a burst of gunshots rang out and two of them collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
Slowly emerging from the settling cloud of dust, the large forms of Hyperion's loader bots stomped into view. Behind their line, a giant constructor bot spewed forth a constant stream of reinforcements. They immediately opened fire on the entrenched defenders and several more people instantly dropped. Roland threw out his turret and the gun began firing at the advancing bots.
"Get behind my turret," he yelled to the others around him and the remaining survivors crouched behind its energy shield.
Joining them on the impromptu firing line, Roland poured fire onto the advancing robots along with the other survivors. His combat rifle kicked heavily back against his shoulder as burst after burst was sent downrange. The storm of fire they released would have been enough to suppress any human attack, but their enemies weren't human. Bullets slapped effectually off of the bot's shields, and even the ones that broke through mostly pinged harmlessly off of their armored chassis. Even when they did manage to drop one, the other bots simply walked mindlessly on as they continued their relentless advance.
They were being overrun, and Roland knew it. "Lilith, I need you here now," he called over the ECHO.
"On my way," came her response. He didn't have to wait long. With another explosive entrance, Lilith appeared and scattered the attacking line of bots with fire before disappearing once more. Roland felt a wash of heat over his back as Lilith suddenly appeared next to him. Breathing heavily, she bent nearly double as she struggled to stand.
"Roland, I can't keep this up much longer," she huffed out gasping for breath.
"None of us can," he paused to return another burst of suppressive fire. Looking around at the last of New Haven's exhausted militia, Roland knew there was no way they could keep this up. "We need to get these people out of here."
"That ain't gonna happen, Roland," Mordecai's voice cut through over the ECHO. "I've got a good view from up here, and there's no way we can break through that line."
Roland racked his brain for another way out. Well, if they couldn't get out, maybe they could leave from within. "Brick," he barked into his ECHO. "Tell me the fast-travel station is still running."
There was a pause over the call until Brick responded, "Looks like it. But there's an awful lotta open ground in that courtyard."
"We'll have to manage," Roland didn't see any other way. "Helena, I need you to gather all the survivors in the alley behind your position."
"On it," came her clipped reply.
Roland locked eyes with Lilith, "Grenades." She nodded, and the two of them primed a couple grenades and hurled them into the incoming wall of bots. Roland recalled his turret and joined their group as they ran towards the back alley. Roland didn't dare look back as the whump of the grenades going off interrupted the sounds of gunfire behind them.
Following after the bloody group of survivors, he could hear Lilith's voice calling out to the hidden civilians. "Alright, everybody let's go! We're leaving. Get moving or get left behind!"
Roland was relieved to find the family he'd seen earlier still alive as they poked their heads out their door. He gestured them over to their growing pack, "Hope you can use that gun. We're getting out of here."
Shots rung out from the rooftop as Mordecai provided cover fire followed by the dull slap of another body hitting the ground. Coming to the end of the alleyway, their group joined the growing throng huddled at the back of Helena's office. Roland took a moment to look at the haggard faces around him. Less than half of New Haven's people remained and they'd likely lose more before the end. Wading through the couple dozen that left alive, he found Helena at the end of the alley barking orders.
"Glad yer still holding on to yer insides, man!" Scooter flashed him a thumbs up from the crowd.
"Likewise," Roland agreed. He'd never been so glad to hear one of the man's nonsensical greetings.
Helena looked around the remaining survivors with a frown, "Is… this everyone?"
Roland nodded grimly, "Where's Brick?"
Helena made an exasperated sound, "Getting his damned dog."
Seems about right, Roland thought to himself with amusement. "How's Dusty?" he ECHOed their absent friend.
"Hidin' under the bed," came Brick's nonchalant response.
"Sounds like him," Roland snorted. "We need you in the courtyard in thirty seconds."
"Got it."
"Oh... and Brick? Let's give 'em a reason to keep their distance."
Brick's throaty chuckle filtered through the call, "With pleasure."
"Helena, Lilith – with me. Mordecai, once we have things under control I want to you to abandon your position and get down here." Roland turned back to the last of New Haven's armed forces. "The rest of you stay behind and protect the civilians. We'll ECHO you when the courtyard's secure." There was a murmur of agreement among the group before Roland took point and led the way.
As they rounded the edge of the building, they got their first view of the courtyard. Brick's rockets had left a cratered mess of smoking debris and charred body parts. No surprise there. But as they cleared the corner, the troops on the other side of the divide opened fire on them. Roland threw out his turret, and they dived behind the energy barrier.
"Lilith, get on top of the building next to Scooter's garage and lay down some fire," Roland directed, and he knew without having to look that she had phased away. "Brick, where are you? I need you to flank them on the other side."
"Already on it," Brick responded between panting breaths.
Moments later, Roland heard the screams of Hyperion soldiers mingle with animalistic yells as Brick bore down on them like a freight train. Their attempts to shoot him were in vain as the bullets were harmlessly turned aside by the forcefield of the hammer he wielded. Crashing into their position, the hammer boomed loudly as its' power field discharged into his unlucky target. The soldier's body practically exploded from the impact and the resulting concussive blast was enough to bowl over a couple others that had been standing nearby. Howling with enthusiasm, Brick continued to smash apart the survivors. For as many times as Roland has seen Brick go to town with Sledge's old hammer, it never stopped being disturbing to watch. He was glad that he'd never see the other side of that hammer again.
"Coast is clear," Helena confirmed as Roland recalled his turret. Approaching the fast-travel station, she activated the console. "Something's wrong…"
Instead of the usual display, a red no access symbol flashed in front of them. When Helena tried to punch the panel, a sickly sweet female voice emanated from the speakers. "We're sorry, the Fast Travel station at this location is currently offline due to – " the voice suddenly shifted into a computer monotone"- imminent destruction. If you think you have received this message in error, please contact your nearest Hyperion representative. Hyperion would like to thank you for your cooperation and apologize for any inconvenience this situation may have caused. Have a nice day!"
Helena cursed at the screen. "Hyperion shut down the dammed station. We have no other way to get these civilians out."
Lilith looked down at them from the rooftop, her SMG gripped tightly in her hands. "Roland, we can't let these people die because of us."
It wouldn't be because of us, Roland seethed with an irrational surge of anger towards Angel and Timothy. If they had never come to New Haven, Hyperion wouldn't be here now and these people would still be alive. Roland admonished himself with a sigh. It wasn't fair to blame them. The two of them had done the same thing that all of them had: come to New Haven looking for something safe. Angel couldn't help what she was and he wasn't about to begrudge Timothy for succeeding where they had failed. He'd be damned if that moment of anger hadn't felt good though. They were all dead now. Roland wasn't about to leave these people to die and Hyperion would never give up as long as they thought Angel was here.
But what if she wasn't... "We don't have to get the civilians out. We just have to lead Hyperion away."
"Explain," Helena looked unconvinced.
"Hyperion is either here for Angel, or for us," Roland began. "They don't care about New Haven. If they see us leave, then maybe we can draw them away."
"You mean to leave us here -"
"No," Roland corrected. "We'll split our forces. You, Mordecai and Lilith stay will behind to lead the civilians out to safety. Brick can come with me."
"And how are you supposed to lead them away?" Mordecai's voice came through over the ECHO. "You've got an entire blockade to break through."
Roland spared the group before him one of his rare slow grins, "We'll take my car."
Angel picked her way carefully through random junk and scrap piles behind Timothy. They had abandoned their truck a hundred yards back and she couldn't help feeling exposed as they crept over the piles of refuse towards Hyperion's battle line. The sounds of gunfire were slowly becoming louder the closer they approached. She gripped her gun tightly with shaking hands, afraid that she'd accidentally shoot Timothy in the back. Her dread during her training sessions were about to soon become a reality and she didn't think Timothy would appreciate being the first casualty.
Could she kill someone? Maybe. It certainly seemed like she'd have to. But what if they were shooting back? She didn't think the beat up shield Timothy had given her would hold for more than a few shots. Still, it would probably be easier to shoot at people that were shooting back. But what if they were shooting at Timothy? Would that still count? Wait - Angel had never practiced against a target that shot back. And they're going to be moving! This wasn't going to be anything like target practice.
Angel pulled at the back of Timothy's ridiculously oversized shirt. "What do I do if they're moving? You never taught me how to shoot a moving target!" she hissed.
"Well, you shoot at it," Timothy stated the obvious. "It's exactly like shooting a non-moving target. Except it's moving and it uh… it's trying to kill you."
Angel rolled her eyes, "That doesn't help at all."
Timothy turned back to face her to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, you don't have to hit anything. I just need you to keep them on their toes so we can do our thing."
"And what is our thing?" Angel flinched as a giant explosion rocked the ground.
"We need to get inside the town," he glanced over his shoulder with a grimace. "We're no use to anyone out here. Alright, you ready to go?"
No… "Yes," Angel reluctantly nodded. She didn't like that Timothy's plan wasn't much of a plan at all. Her father had always had a plan and working with Timothy was a lot like working with the Vault Hunters. Everything was always improvised – annoyingly so.
Resigning herself to the fact that they had no better option, they continued navigating their way through the towering junk heaps until they crested the final pile overlooking the town. A column of smoke billowed upwards from the far side of town that gave Angel a good idea of where the massive explosion moments before had happened. Soldiers scrambled around the walls as they poured into the town's entrances. Outside of the walls, constructor bots slowly churned out combat loaders. Unable to see past the walls, the sounds from within didn't inspire any confidence.
"Thaaat… doesn't look good," Timothy voiced her thoughts aloud. "Getting past all those guys is not gonna be easy."
Angel internally agreed. "You still want to go in there? "
"Having the Vault Hunters at our back is the safest place to be," he explained. "If I'm gonna be fighting for my life, I wanna have the four biggest badasses on Pandora fighting beside me."
Angel eyed the distance towards the wall and judged the number of enemies in their way. "We'll never make it."
"Well, I'm open to suggestions," he spat out in frustration. "I don't like our odds either."
Desperately, Angel scanned the battlefield for something – anything – that could help them. Her eyes landed on the distant constructor bot and the beginnings of a plan started to form in her mind. "Okay, I have an idea."
"Great, I'm all ears. How do we get in there?"
"We don't."
"Oookay, that's a bit counterproductive."
"No, listen," Angel waved off his protest. "We're not going to be able to do much inside even if we do manage to make it in. Instead, we can cut off Hyperion's reinforcements. If we can get to a constructor bot, I should be able to use it to hack into Hyperion's battle network. From there, I might be able to shut down the bots."
"You're using words like 'should' and 'might'," Timothy frowned. "There's a lot of ifs in that scenario."
"Trust me, it'll work."
"Welp, I'm not questioning space magic," Timothy sighed. "Okay, we'll go fooor… that one," he pointed towards one a good twenty yards away surrounded by engineers. "We'll circle around and hit 'em from behind."
Angel nodded and followed closely behind as he lead the way. With things silent between them, doubts once again crept toward the forefront of her mind. What if it didn't work? What if she couldn't shut down the bots? What if she got them killed? She was so caught up in her thoughts, she stumbled over the detached door of a washing machine and into Timothy's back. Why are there so many washing machines on this planet?!
Timothy checked her over. "You alright?"
Not even remotely. "Fine," she assured him.
If Timothy noticed her unease, he thankfully didn't bring it up and the two of them stealthily ducked behind an overflowing dumpster. Peeking around the corner, they caught their first close up view of the constructor and its attending engineers. A couple of them operated panels built into the bot's side while the rest loosely surveyed the surrounding area.
"Wow, that thing is really big up close," Timothy whispered to her. Popping back behind cover, he waved her closer. "That looks a wee bit too bulletproofy, so here's what we're gonna do," he handed her a couple of grenades he phased into his hand. "We're gonna prime these babies, and then we're going to hit that thing with all of them at once. Hopefully, that's enough to drop the big one; then I'm gonna run in and finish off the survivors."
At least throwing a grenade would be easier than shooting someone. "Well, what do you want me to do?"
"You hang back and give me cover fire. Make sure you keep their heads down so I won't get blasted running in there," Timothy glanced around the edge again. "Alright, prime them." Angel pressed the activation switch. "Ready… and… throw."
Angel lobbed the grenade over the dumpster and immediately ducked back into cover again. She hoped they had landed where they were supposed to since she hadn't had much practice tossing well... anything. She slapped her hands over her ears and heard the muffled cry of 'Grenade!' before the resulting shock wave shook the dumpster at her side. Shaking off the slight ringing in her ears, she could vaguely hear Timothy's shout of 'Cover me!' before running into the spreading cloud of dust kicked up by the explosion.
Scrambling around the dumpster, she could hear the exclamations of surprise followed by gunfire as Timothy engaged the remaining survivors. Suddenly, Angel heard the sound of Timothy's voice from multiple directions as she nervously waited for the dust to settle. Spotting a shape in the dust, she bit back her dread, pointed her gun and squeezed the trigger.
To her horror, she heard Timothy's voice cry out, "Ahh! I'm hit!"
Oh god. Oh god ohgodohgod. She shot Timothy. She killed Timothy. What am I going to do?
Her horror swiftly turned to annoyance as the dust cleared to see the flickering form of Timothy's clone crossing its arms at her. "What the hell? Teamkill!"
Angel nearly screamed in frustration.
"Angel, get over here," the Not-Fake-Timothy called. "It's clear."
She arrived on the scene to find the scattered remains of the nearby engineers surrounding the twitching frame of the constructor bot. Its bright yellow husk was torn up by the blast, but it remained intact enough for her needs. Angel tried to ignore the bodies and not think about the fact that it might have been her grenade that caused this. It could just as easily have been Timothy's.
Timothy recalled his clones, one still complaining about team killing as it came back. "What'dya think that was about?"
Angel shrugged. "I dunno. They're always taunting." She'd never live it down if Timothy found out.
Timothy frowned down at the sphere in his hand. "True. Still weird though, don'tcha think?"
"I dunno." Looking anywhere else but at Timothy, Angel tried to look nonchalant. That's when she saw it. An engineer pushed himself up from the ground, clutching his bleeding side. Before she could form words, he raised up his assault rifle and pointed it at Timothy's back.
Angel didn't think. She immediately shoved Timothy aside, raised her gun and pulled the trigger. It happened in a heartbeat. He was standing one moment, and the next, he dropped heavily to the ground. She stood frozen in silence. Her own heartbeat in her ears began to rise to a pounding rhythm before Timothy's hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality.
"Thanks for saving my ass," Timothy said with a soft squeeze. "He had me dead to rights. You uh… you shouldn't have had to do that. I should've been paying attention."
Her knees started to shake and Timothy was forced to help lower her to the ground. "I.. I killed him."
Timothy kneeled at her side, "Yes," he said bluntly.
"I-I probably killed those guys with the grenade, I thought I killed you, and then I killed him." Angel couldn't hold back the tide of words that flooded out of her. "And I killed all those scientists over the years – and they were helping me. And my mother. I killed my mother. I've killed so many people!"
"Angel. Angel," Timothy's hands clasped either side of his face, forcing her to look at him. "Yes, you killed those people. Yes, you killed that guy. But he was going to kill us and you didn't have a choice. Right now, you can't think about that." Timothy nodded towards the distant gunfire ringing through New Haven. "Right now, there's a town full of people counting on us – counting on you. I need you to pull yourself together because we need you."
He was right. They needed her. They all needed her to be strong now. She could cry later. For now, Angel had a job to do. It took a few seconds to remember just what that job was through with the fog of adrenaline clouding her mind. She braced herself on one knee and shakily stood up.
"Okay. I'll… I'll be okay," she managed to say, mostly for her own benefit if nothing else.
Angel clenched her hands as she approached the constructor bot. Pressing them against the mangled chassis, she extended her consciousness into the machine. Ignoring the failing AI of the constructor, she instead focused on its connection to Hyperion's battle network. The network contained and organized all battlefield telemetry data in the area. In particular, Angel was interested in the control algorithms for the loader bots on the field. If she could isolate the override command, she could use it to shut them all down. Without bot support, Hyperion couldn't hope to beat the Vault Hunters.
As if from a distance, she vaguely heard Timothy answer his ECHO. "Yeah, we're here."
Roland's voice called back, "We're getting slaughtered in here. I have a plan to lead Hyperion away from the town, but I need you to punch a hole in their defensive lines so we can make our getaway."
"There are only two of us you know," Timothy replied.
"I need you to find a way," came Roland's clipped response and the line went dead.
"Did you hear that?" Timothy called to Angel. "I don't know what more he can expect expect from us. Let's hope shutting down the robots will be enough."
It wouldn't be. With her mind connected to the network, Angel could easily see the bigger picture. Their ECHO communications, their orders, their tactical data: Angel had access to it all. Hyperion already had reinforcements on the way and shutting down the bots wasn't going to be enough. They didn't have time to fight their way through the remains of Hyperion's forces. They needed to make a hole now. Combing through the system, Angel looked for another possibility. She found it in their targeting network. She could reset the 'friend or foe' identification tags for all the bots on the field. With no directions for what to fire on, the bots would resort to shooting anything around them… including one another. Hyperion soldiers would be too busy fighting for their lives to bother with anything else.
It would be a bloodbath. She wouldn't be the one pulling the trigger this time, but countless people would be killed either way. Angel hesitated for only a moment before sending the command. Between the people in the town and the soldiers attacking, the choice was easy.
There was a momentary lull in the gunfire as the command overrode the bots previous settings, then the screams began. The cries of all the soldiers streamed over their ECHO communications network… and she heard all of it. Dragging herself back out of the system, Angel pulled herself away from the constructor bot as if she'd been burned. Panic gripped the battlefield in front of them as Hyperion's entire force began to crumble in on itself.
Timothy's jaw hung slightly open at the scene before slowly turning back to Angel. "What did you do?"
Angel could almost hear the accusation in his words. "I… made a hole."
Timothy seemed about to say something before Roland's voice cut through over his ECHO: "Whatever you did, it's working. Meet us at the south entrance of the town. We're picking you up."
Timothy fumbled at his ECHO, "We'll meet you there." Looking back at her, he gestured for Angel to follow. "Come on, let's get going."
As they began to trek down the surrounding heaps of junk, Angel wondered if Timothy's voice had always sounded so cold.
A/N: Yeah. Fall of New Haven. Still happening here. Anyway, if you're wondering where Wilhelm and Nisha are through all this, your questions well be answered soon enough.
Alright, quick explanation: we know that in the game, Loaders were just another type of enemy. But think for a moment how truly terrifying a robot army would be. They don't feel pain, they don't miss, and they never stop advancing. Combined with their inherently sturdier construction compared to us meatbags, this makes them one hell of a dangerous enemy. Hopefully, we did a good job of conveying that.
Another thing we want to explain is Brick's hammer. We know that punching things until they explode is a thing in the game, but realistically speaking, no one brings their fists to a gunfight. To still keep him true to his melee style, we decided to science up his hammer (Sledge's old one). It constantly generates a much more powerful shield so that bullets won't matter too much in the battlefield, and he can also discharge it to actually blast people apart with it.
Okay, that covers it. If you have any comments, feedback, questions or suggestions, feel free to let us know in a review or a PM. Like, for realsies. We won't bite. Thanks for reading!