Angel gazed up at the darkening skies and eased out a breath through the hollow ache in her chest. Funny how two hours ago she'd been struggling to breathe at all. Her tears had long since dried out, and now only a dull throb behind her eyes remained. The hard metal of the truck bed beneath her was starting to dig into her back and the night closing in around them had chilled the air, but the discomfort wasn't enough to distract Angel from her straying thoughts.

The past couple of days - the whole month, really - had left Angel feeling so raw that all she could feel now was drained. Ever since her mother died and her entire life had been torn apart the one thing that remained consistent in her life was her father. He wasn't a perfect man, but he was hers, and now it felt like she had lost him all over again. Her entire life before had been eroded away inch by inch until now she was left with nothing. And now she wasn't sure he had even loved her at all.

Angel heard the faint pop of Timothy's back as he shifted beside her. She had almost forgotten he was there. After a few minutes of soaking the front of his shirt, she'd peeled herself away and hadn't spoken a word to him since. A small part of her wanted to be held again like she was as a child, but a much larger part of her wanted nothing to do with the mirror image of her father. An even smaller and petty part of her wanted to blame Timothy for all of this, but she knew that was irrational. Timothy hadn't planned to stick her in that machine. She wasn't about to thank him from keeping it a secret from her, but compared to what she'd learned it seemed so trivial.

Angel struggled to ignore the empty feeling in her chest as she breathed, "I'm still mad at you."

She heard him startle somewhat as Timothy's awkward attempts to start a conversation between them had dwindled away a while ago. "I deserve that."

"You do," she agreed.

"Look, I uhhhh… I wasn't planning on keeping any of this from you," Timothy stumbled out. "It just kinda... happened."

Angel nodded up at the stars. "Is there anything else you're keeping from me?"

"Nope, that's pretty much the worst of it."

Angel finally looked over at him, and once again there was that familiar twinge in her chest she felt whenever she studied him. It used to hurt to look at him because it made her think about the loss of her father. Now it hurt because she didn't want to think of her father at all. She was just so tired of constantly comparing the two. She was sick of keeping him alive in her mind, and for the first time in her life, she was glad that he was gone. It was time to let Jack die, but there was still one thing she needed first.

"May I see a picture of what you looked like before?"

Timothy stiffened beside her and she knew that he understood exactly what 'before' meant. "It's not like you need my permission."

She could have looked for his picture on the ECHOnet easily, but she honestly hadn't cared to know what he looked like before all this. Now, she desperately wanted to think about anyone else when she saw him, and it would be easier if she could put a face to the 'real' Timothy.

"Maybe not, but I want it anyway." She had looked through the private lives of so many people over the years for her father, but this was different.

"Okay, well-ahhh thanks, I guess. I just kinda figured you'd already looked," he said as he pulled out his ECHO device and Angel watched in silence has he looked through the net for several moments. "I'm not sure I'm gonna find it anywhere and... huh. I guess this'll do," he mumbled. He handed her the ECHO and the screen shimmered in front of her before revealing an obituary of all things.

Angel raised a brow. "'Aspiring actor Timothy Lawrence was killed yesterday in a tragic construction accident after a pipe broke free from its transport trailer,'" she read aloud. "You were crushed to death?"

Timothy shrugged. "Well, I'm guessing the body had to be unrecognizable. Makes me wonder how they fooled the autopsy. You might as well skip the rest; it only goes downhill from there. Kinda pathetic when you think about it; my death was the only newsworthy event of my life."

Taking his word for it, Angel scrolled down to the picture at the bottom of the article. It looked like a casual photo of him leaning against a tree. His ginger hair stood out brilliantly in the sunlight and his pale skin was awash with freckles. The same eyes stared back at her, except these were framed within thin glasses and bright blue instead of the mismatched green and blue of her father's. His jaw wasn't as strong, nor his nose as sharp, but over all...

"You look like you could've been my uncle," Angel said, amazed at the uncanny resemblance. She recalled his real voice and it didn't seem to fit him at all. With the way he sounded, she had been expecting someone a lot less good-looking than her father. "But you looked fine." Kind of cute, even.

"Yeah, more like a red-headed step-uncle," Timothy gave a strained chuckle. "Soooo, that's the real me."

Angel passed him back his ECHO, unsure of what to say. They lapsed back into their previous silence - though this one was more comfortable than the last. Her thoughts had decided to leave her alone for the time being, and she allowed her gaze to lift back up to the stars. Before long, her eyes were drawn to Helios Station slowly inching across the sky. The colossal unfinished 'H' cast its shadow across the surface of Elpis as it glowed softly with the sun's reflected light. She imagined Tassiter sitting in the president's office sneering down on Pandora and the mental image was enough to push a thought to the forefront of her mind.

"We have to tell Tannis about all this," Angel said.

"What?" Timothy said, and she could hear his back pop again with how quickly he turned to look at her. "You really wanna tell the mad scientist about this? 'Cause that's how you end up a science experiment."

"I'm aware of that," Angel said evenly. "Just because I want to tell her doesn't mean I'm volunteering."

"Really? That sounds exactly like what you're doing," he said. "Angel, you know that once this is out there, you can't take it back. Everyone will know that you're a walking power source and someone's gonna try to take advantage of that. We can find another way to charge the Vault Key."

"We have to assume that Tassiter already knows," she reasoned with him. "And I'm not saying that we should broadcast it across the galaxy. I'm saying that we tell the one person who might have a chance at adapting the machine. Tannis gave off the impression that she knew more about Eridian technology than my father ever did, and our only plan to beat Hyperion right now revolves around that Vault Key."

Timothy sighed, "I just want you to be okay."

"I will be," she said, suppressing a shiver at the chill in the air. "We should head back to town before we get eaten."

Timothy groaned as he sat up and stretched. "Yeah, I don't feel like camping out here tonight. How about we sleep on it before we go telling Tannis anything? You might feel different about it in the morning."

Angel knew she wouldn't, but she humored him anyway, "Sure."

Roland was jarred awake by the dull sound of a fist pounding against his door, each hit ringing like a gong inside his skull. Lilith stirred sleepily before grimacing into his chest, "Ugh, it's your turn to check on the kids this time."

Roland threw off the covers and struggled out of bed with a sigh. He had yet to get a full night's rest since New Haven had fallen. There was always something to be done or someone to be helped, and there was always banging on their door. Stepping into a pair of pants, he sluggishly made his way to answer it. He swore that if one more person showed up complaining that there wasn't any hot water left in the showers again, he was going to shoot them.

Fumbling with the lock, Roland pulled open the door to find one of the regulars he posted on guard duty. Squinting blearily at him, Roland struggled to recall his name. "What is it, Soldier?" he settled on instead.

The man nodded awkwardly at the improvised title. "A technical pulled up outside the gates a couple minutes ago. Looks like they're wearing Lance armor."

Suddenly, Roland was far more awake. "How many?"

"Four: two of them tried to approach the gate, and two more are waiting in the truck."

Not enough for an attack, but were they raiders or the real deal? "What were the colors on the technical?"

"Kinda hard to tell in the dark, probably black though. Definitely in good condition."

Lance then. "Thanks, Soldier. Lilith and I will be out in a minute," Roland dismissed and closed the door. Fighting back a yawn, he turned back to the room to find Lilith laid out on her stomach under a nest of sheets. The mattress creaked as Roland sat down at her side and played his fingers through her hair. "Hey, Lil', wake up. The kids need us."

Lilith gave a light groan of protest as she leaned into his hand. "What is it this time?"

"We've got company. I think Lieutenant Davis has an answer for us," he said and reached down over the edge of the bed to pull his boots on.

"At this time of night? You soldiers need to learn how to sleep in," she sighed, giving an exaggerated stretch that caused the sheets to drift lower - a move he was certain was purely for his benefit.

Roland resolutely snapped his attention back to lacing up his boots before she could convince him to keep Davis waiting. Still, it was hard to keep the smile out of his voice as he replied, "I don't think I've ever hard time sleeping in with you."

Roland did his best to ignore the creak of the mattress until Lilith's arms snaked around his chest, making it impossible. Her lips twitched up into a smile at the back of his neck and he could practically hear her smirk, "It helps when I tire you out first."

Roland desperately tried to focus on lacing up his boots as thoughts of exactly how much she tired him out the night before threatened to distract him. Lilith had always been an intense person, and sex was no different. The adrenaline rush that came with life on Pandora always left things passionate between them and it's what had brought them together in the first place. Still, this wasn't the time to get distracted.

Done with his boots, Roland turned and wrapped an arm around Lilith's waist before dragging her into his lap. "I know what you're doing," he leveled his most serious look at her.

Lilith pouted in a way that was probably meant to look innocent, but failed miserably. "Do you? I think you're imagining things. You should probably come back to bed; you're way too sleep deprived."

"Later," he promised before dropping a chaste kiss on her shoulder.

Her poor attempt at innocence turned wicked. "Oh, in that case, let's go," she said and hopped off his lap.

Sauntering around the room with an exaggerated sway of her hips, Lilith gathered up her discarded clothing. Roland pulled on his shirt, adjusted his beret on his head, and tried not to watch Lilith wiggle into her clothes with poor results. He didn't break out of his stupor until Lilith dragged her fingers along his chest as she made her way to the door.

"C'mon, Soldier, let's not keep them waiting."

Gathered in front of the truck's headlights, Lieutenant Davis and his men looked more like smugglers making a shady deal than soldiers looking to negotiate an alliance. Roland felt a sense of bemusement he didn't allow to show on his face as he watched them shuffle uncomfortably under the spotlights that lined the town walls and the rifles of a dozen guards perched next to them. A lone spotlight followed he and Lilith as they made their way out the gate to greet them. An awkward silence ensued as both parties waited for the other to speak.

"Didn't expect you so soon," Roland said at last.

"There wasn't much to discuss," Lieutenant Davis said. "Ya didn't exactly give us much of a choice."

"And your answer?" Roland said, though it was probably just a formality at this point. If Davis had been intending to say no he would have shown up with a lot more men, or not at all.

"We're here, aren't we?" Davis said in a way that suggested long years of impatience. "That should give you all the answer you need. I talked it over with the men, and they agreed to your terms. 'Least, most of 'em did. The threat of death is a powerful motivator," he scoffed.

Lilith caught his eye as she asked, "And the ones who didn't?"

Davis shrugged. "Some took a little extra persuading, but they've all seen the light now."

"They're not gonna be a problem, are they?" The last thing Roland needed was insubordinate soldiers. It only took one fed up person to ruin everything. He was a walking example of that.

"You let me worry about my men," Davis said more defensively than he probably intended. Roland wasn't surprised; he wouldn't have taken well to someone questioning his command either - he did that enough himself. "They're soldiers: at least they know how to follow orders."

Lilith raised her hands disarmingly. "Boy, boys - you're both pretty, but we're supposed to be cooperating now, remember?"

"And we will," Davis' tone left no room for argument. "So what's the plan now, or are you only good for giving threatenin' speeches?"

Roland braced himself and decided to get the hard sell out of the way first. He knew the Lance wasn't going to like his idea of packing up and moving any more than the people of Jaynistown would, but if things turned into an outright war with Hyperion they were going to need a base. And if Brick and Mordecai's scouting reports were accurate, he already had a place in mind. But getting it would take an army, and an army meant the Lance.

"I'm looking to get into real estate," Roland said. "And I'm gonna need your help to kick out the current tenants."

"Really," Davis sounded intrigued. "What kind do you have in mind?"

"The defensible kind," Roland elaborated. "There's a place up north of here called Sanctuary. It's an old converted Dahl mining ship and it used to be a halfway decent town before a group of bandits called the Bloodshots moved in."

"You planning on getting that thing airborne?" Davis snorted.

"I doubt that thing's ever moving again, but that's not why I'm interested," Roland said. "Those mining ships are built like fortresses and that's not even the best part. Dahl built an entire shield grid around the outside to keep out the wildlife. That system is sturdy enough to take a hit from anything, even Hyperion."

Davis glanced doubtfully around at his men. "Seems like a lot of trouble for something you don't even know still works. If you need to get your people to a safer place, why not move them to Old Haven?"

"Have you forgotten how we took the place from you after you took it from bandits?" Lilith reminded him. "Old Haven isn't exactly a bunker and Hyperion attacks from the air, which makes that wall of yours pretty worthless."

"And you don't have to worry about the shield grid," Roland added. "I've already had a couple of my men scouting it out for the past few days. The grid is still functional aside from a few minor repairs. The real difficulty is gonna be keeping it powered, but we'll deal with that when we come to it."

"It still seems like a helluva lotta risk," Davis said. "And my men'll be the ones doin' most of the work. If you Vault Hunters and some untrained civies were enough to save this lot at New Haven, then you should have no problem defending Old Haven with trained soldiers backing you up."

"We didn't win at New Haven, we barely made it out alive," Lilith stressed. "Hyperion had us dead to rights. The only reason anyone of us survived is because of a fluke."

"Yeah, and that fluke won't be happening again," Roland leveled at Davis. "Look, Sanctuary isn't just for us; it's for you too. If we're gonna be fighting Hyperion, then we need a safe headquarters to do it from and Sanctuary is the best place this planet has to offer." It was almost enough to make him wish they hadn't leveled the Crimson Armory.

Roland waited in uneasy silence for an answer as Davis considered their proposal. He knew that the Lieutenant could recognise the importance of having a base of operations Hyperion couldn't just wipe off the map, but if he wasn't willing to risk the men to capture it they were dead in the water. Still, Roland was hoping that Lillith's reminder of just how precarious their position in Old Haven was would be enough to convince him.

"And you have a way to keep this shield powered?" Davis clarified.

"Not exactly, but I figure the only ones on this planet with the tech to keep that thing going are Hyperion, and we're going after them anyway."

"Never thought I'd see the day the Crimson Lance become raiders," Davis sucked at his teeth. "Well, it's not like the men couldn't use some action and nothing gets the blood pumping like a good siege. You let me know when you have a plan together and we'll be there."

Roland let out a very large internal sigh of relief. "Alright, I'll let you know as soon as I hear back from my men and we can draw up a plan of attack."

"Well, I'd say it's a pleasure to be working with ya, but I'd be lying," Davis tossed over his shoulder as he and his men made their way back to the idling truck.

"Likewise," Roland muttered, glad to be rid of them for now.

"Yeah, 'enemy of my enemy' and all that jazz," Lilith waved at the truck as they pulled away. "You two will get over it eventually," she reassured Roland, though he wasn't feeling particularly assured.

"I hope so."

As Roland waved up at the guards to stand down, Lilith mentioned offhandedly, "So, back to bed? It is 'later' y'know..."

"So it is," he agreed with a smirk, and there was a slight pulse in the air as Lilith disappeared. Roland tried his best to resist breaking out in a jog as he headed back to their room where Lilith would be waiting.

The room was deathly silent except for the ever present creak of the lopsided ceiling fan circling above and the intermittent hiss of paper as Tannis poured over Jack's notes. Despite Timothy's advice that she shouldn't tell the first mad scientist she saw about her condition, Angel remained convinced that this was their only option. And so Timothy impatiently stood in Tannis' new lab where she'd spent all of thirty seconds listening to Angel's explanation before snatching Jack's notes away in the name of 'something a little more informative'.

"We could come back later if you want?" Angel awkwardly offered.

"Nonsense. If I wanted you gone, you'd know it," Tannis replied curtly, not bothering to look up from the page, and the room lapsed back into silence. A stifling silence that had been going on for almost fifteen minutes.

Angel breathed out a resigned sigh and Timothy took the opportunity to study her as she began to chew at her nails. After the life-shattering revelation of last night, he'd expected her to be an emotional wreck. And she had been - for about an hour. There had to be some underlying issues there, but whatever they were, she wasn't showing it. Timothy was hardly a psychiatrist, but even he knew that probably wasn't healthy. This wasn't the first time that particular train of thought passed through his mind, but this time he stopped himself.

The last month of Angel's life hadn't exactly been a cakewalk and it wasn't every day that someone had their entire existence ripped out from under them. All things considered, she'd handled everything pretty damn well - a lot better than he'd been expecting. Maybe that's what made him so doubtful of her. Anyone else in her position would be falling apart right now, and the fact that she wasn't bewildered the hell out him. Then again, Angel wasn't most people.

Maybe he should give her a little more credit.

Looking for a way to distract himself from his increasing boredom, Timothy slowly wandered the room. Tannis hadn't wasted any time settling in. Stacks of papers and datapads took up every available surface that wasn't already dominated by strange looking equipment whose purpose eluded him. Drawn by something particularly shiny hovering in a stasis field, he couldn't restrain himself from reaching out to touch it.

"Though your childlike tendencies may compel you to do so, I would ask you to refrain from touching anything," came the drawl of Tannis' voice. "Everything is this room is the culmination of a decades worth of research and it is meticulously organized."

Looking at the haphazard mess around him, Timothy highly doubted that. Resigning himself to continued boredom, he was relieved when Tannis finally looked up from Jack's notes and set them aside. "Your father was an interesting man, Angel," she began. "I'm having trouble deciding whether he was an incredibly smart idiot, or an incredibly stupid genius."

"I'm not sure I follow," Angel mumbled past her nails.

"Your father's design for this machine and the research behind it suggests a very high understanding of Eridian technology, while at the same time being almost completely ignorant of the fundamentals it was built on," Tannis elaborated. "Simply put: it seems like he was copying something down rather than inventing it. But that's absurd because I'm the only person with the knowledge to translate the Eridian language this side of the galaxy."

Timothy slowly raised his hand as several thoughts fell into place. "Oh, I uhhh might have an explanation for that. See, Jack kinda went a little weird after he connected - or something - with an Eridian artifact on Elips. Maybe that had something to do with it?"

"Really?" Tannis' eyes lit up at the prospect. "What happened to this artifact you recovered? It could accelerate my research by years - maybe decades!"

"Lilith kinda sorta smashed it into Jack's face while he was using it, sooo yeah. It's gone." Timothy tried not to wince at the look on Tannis' face - which was a good impression of what you'd see if you kicked someone's puppy into a grinder.

"I see," Tannis sighed and seemed to take a moment to compose herself before continuing. "In any case, Jack's machine was trying to achieve a result in the most hilariously brutish way imaginable. It looks like rather than take the time to develop a new piece of technology, he planned to use you as a shortcut instead."

"Wait, so you're saying that Jack could have charged the Vault Key without me?" Angel clarified.

"In time, yes," Tannis said. "The technology already exists on a small scale; it's how all Eridian technology is powered. It seems like Jack just didn't have the patience - or more likely the knowledge - to scale it up to a level necessary to charge the Vault Key."

Oh, that probably wasn't what she needed to hear right now, Timothy internally sighed as he glanced over at Angel. For her part, the only outward betrayal of her emotional state was the tightening of her jaw and the clench of her fist at her side. He needed to change the subject and quickly.

"Buuut you can do that, right? 'Cause you're a lot... smarter than Jack?" he finished lamely.

"Of course not, I'm woefully unprepared for such a project," Tannis laughed. "And even if I was, I'm still uncertain how Angel was even supposed to serve as this 'catalyst'. Is it unique to her abilities, or simply something all Sirens are capable of? I need data, lots of data." Tannis' gaze lingered over Angel as she added, "And I think the two of you can provide that for me."

"And how would we do that?" Timothy prompted, dreading where this could be headed.

"I'll need two things: refined eridium and Angel's cooperation as a test subject," Tannis stated as simply as if it were a shopping list.

Timothy balked. "Woah woah, wait a second here. Angel's not -"

"I'll do it," Angel cut him off.

Timothy stared at Angel dumbfounded, before turning back to Tannis. "Could you excuse us for one moment? We're just gonna go over…" Timothy didn't care enough to finish that thought before hooking his arm into Angel's elbow and prompting her to follow him. She reluctantly allowed him to lead her into the corner of the room where he immediately hissed, "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out a way to charge the Vault Key," Angel said flatly. "We need to awaken the the Warrior before Tassiter does, remember?"

"You said you weren't volunteering for any science experiments, and lo and behold, that is exactly what you're doing!"

"It's my choice to make," Angel countered, and the coldness in her tone hit him like a slap across the face.

Timothy silently seethed as he cut a glance towards Tannis patiently waiting behind them, and back to the determined look in Angel's eyes. Why was she doing this? Was it some sort of rebellious phase because he kept all this from her? A roundabout way of lashing out at her father? Why couldn't she just listen to him when all he'd ever tried to do was look out for her?

"You think this is just about you?" he said, just barely above a whisper. With the hairsbreadth of distance between them, the fact that she wouldn't look him in the eyes irked him to no end. "Listen," he insisted, gripping her shoulders. "Your choice affects everyone and Tassiter won't be the only one interested in you. I know you're ticked about your dad's plans to screw you over, but painting a target over this town isn't gonna make it better."

Angel shrugged out of his grip. "Exactly, this isn't about me. We don't have any other options and I know the consequences of all this getting out better than you ever could, or did you forget the part where I spent my life in a box? I understand what's at stake, so do me a favor and quit treating me like a child."

Timothy was sure he about a dozen comebacks to that, but he couldn't think of any of them right now. Angel held his gaze expectantly for a moment before cooly brushing past him as if they hadn't been secretly arguing in front of an audience.

"I know the nearest eridium refinery is in Lynchwood," Angel picked up their suspended conversation with Tannis, ignoring him completely. "But I don't know how you expect us to steal any without getting caught."

"Don't look at me, I'm just a scientist," Tannis said matter-of-factly. "Menial tasks sit comfortably in your realm of expertise."

Angell finally looked over at him and said, "Any ideas?"

"Oh, now you want my input," Timothy pouted from the corner. "Gee, that's a problem 'cause I don't really agree with this scheme of yours." He was painfully aware at how petty he sounded at the moment, but he was too frustrated to care.

Angel shrugged indifferently, "That's fine. I guess I'll have to figure it out on my own."

And she'll do it, he realised. She'd actually do it. However, whether or not she'd succeed was up for debate. "Look, you can't do this..." he began before catching Angel's death glare. "What I mean is: you can't do this on your own. This'll be at least a two person job, maybe more."

God I have no will! Angel may have won this round, but the subject was far from dropped. They'd have a pow-wow about it later, far away from prying eyes. The last thing they needed was a nosey Vault Hunter finding out that he and Angel weren't exactly thick as thieves.

Angel's lip twitched up into a not-quite smile as she said, "Anymore ideas?"

"Not really, but I've watched a lot of heist sims," Timothy said. "And the thing they all have in common is an inside man."

"We don't need one, I can get us in," Angel pointed out.

"Yeah, that's not gonna be enough," Timothy reminded her. "You can get us past any security cameras and locked doors, sure. But there are dozens of people working there and unless you plan on mowing them all down - and not to mention their reinforcements - then we still need someone inside."

"Which we don't have," Angel countered impatiently. "Am I going to have to start putting your ideas in the suggestion box, 'cause you're not helping me here."

"Au contraire bonjour," Timothy said in his most debonair tone. Angel's nose crinkled and Tannis' scoff went unnoticed as he went on. "We just need to contact Rhys again. I'm pretty sure my biggest fan will be jumping at the chance to help us out."

"Rhys?" Angel puzzled. "Who's Rhys?"

Timothy deflated slightly. "Rhys - y'know, the guy that helped us escape Lynchwood. The guy Nisha punched in the face?"

A flash of recognition crossed Angel's face. "Oh, that guy. His face looked like it hurt. I don't think he'll want to help us now considering that everyone at Hyperion knows you're a fake."

"Then I'll just have to convince him that I'm not." Timothy tried to project much more confidence than he actually felt.

Angel looked unconvinced. "How?"

Timothy flashed his best jazz hands at the pair to empathize his point and said, "With acting!"

Tassiter leaned back into his chair, an empty wineglass hanging limply between his fingers. It was a custom between them to open a bottle whenever Lawrence De Quidt called, and he'd already emptied his half an hour ago. It wasn't often that the two of them had time for pointless chats, but they still tried to make a monthly event out of it. Of all The Board members, Lawrence was the only one Tassiter had ever cared to be friendly with. The two of them shared a lot in common, not the least of which was a good taste in fine wine.

The conversation this time around had been a little more strained than normal, mostly due to the reaming Tassiter received from The Board days ago about the New Haven fiasco. Not that he held it against Lawrence - he'd been the most understanding of the three. As yet another silence stretched away between them, Tassiter's mind wandered around the relative calm of his office.

"You know…" Tassiter's thoughts scattered for a moment before pulling themselves together again. If he were in less than friendly company, he'd never risk getting this drunk. "You know, if there's one thing I can thank John for, it's his removal of Claptraps from Helios Station. It's just so… so peaceful and productive without them."

"You just don't appreciate their genius," Lawrence quipped and took a long drink from his glass. The view of his lab depicted a chaotic mess, although he always managed to clear off a table when it was time for their calls. Tassiter never could've functioned in such squalor, and had said as much on multiple occasions.

"I'll never understand how you consider those rolling annoyances your greatest work," Tassier accused, yet another aspect of the man he never understood. "Ever going to patch their personality flaws?"

"See, that's what no one understands," Lawrence drawled. "There's nothing wrong with them. They're perfect: a near exact copy of human consciousness. Everything I've done since then has been nothing but parlor tricks." Lawrence must've had a very low opinion of humanity - a trait the two of them shared. Then again, he always did start waxing poetical the more he drank. "Speaking of parlor tricks… I was curious if you've found out more about what happened in New Haven."

Tassiter had been expecting this. Of the three board members, Lawrence had been the only one to express any interest in why their bots went haywire during the battle of New Haven. Maxim only cared about the blow to the company's bottom line, and Alma had never been a fan of using loaders for combat to begin with. As the head of their A.I. division, Lawrence had a very personal stake in discovering what went wrong. At the meeting, Tassiter had been intentionally vague on what caused the combat loaders to turn on their soldiers. Of course he knew it was Angel's doing, but he wasn't about to reveal her existence to The Board until she was firmly under his control.

He lifted the glass to his lips in an effort to stall for time before realising the futility of the gesture. "I already told you at the meeting that I've a got team working on it."

Lawrence gave him a long stare over the rim of glasses. "I know what you said, and I also know when you're being evasive."

Tassiter should've expected that too. "That depends. Am I speaking to a board member right now, or am I speaking to my friend?" The list of people he called friend wasn't very long and Tassiter preferred it that way; his confidence came in short supply and his patience even less so.

"Your friend, of course," Lawrence said, although they were both well aware that 'friend' was a conditional word in their positions. "So what exactly happened down there?"

Tassiter hesitated on how much to reveal; it had to be enough to satisfy Lawrence's curiosity, but not enough to make him dig any deeper. Still, Lawrence's expertise could prove useful and right now Tassiter needed all the help he could get. As his muddled mind tried to piece together a convincing narrative, it was almost enough to make him regret drinking so much wine. Almost.

"Let's say - hypothetically - that someone was able to hack into our network and switch all of the loader's friend or foe tags simultaneously," Tassiter said. "What would you make of that?"

"Then I'd say to start looking more closely at your staff because you have a mole in one of your departments," Lawrence said after a moment's consideration. "I'm confident in your ability to show a little more tact with the situation than Jack did."

The relief in Lawrence's voice was obvious and Tassiter could understand why; personnel problems didn't reflect badly on his department. Too bad that relief would be short lived. "Actually - again, hypothetically of course - what if we think the source of the hack came from a downed constructor bot on the field?"

"Well, I'd say it's a good thing we're speaking in hypotheticals here because what you're suggesting is impossible," Lawrence's scoff fogged his wineglass. "Do you know just how many defenses and fail safes are designed into our network to prevent exactly that kind of scenario? That would be like expecting to hack into Hyperion from a vending kiosk - it's just not possible."

Tassiter briefly considered opening another bottle to put off the inevitable headache this conversation would bring. "But if it was possible, how could we hypothetically prevent that from happening again?"

Lawrence slumped back into his own chair and exchanged his glass in favor of drinking straight from the bottle. "Pull the plug, I guess," he chuckled sardonically. "Look Harold, I know that computer software isn't exactly your area of expertise, but what you're suggesting sounds like magic." You have no idea just how right you are.

"Then it's a good thing this is all hypothetical. Maybe I should wait for the report from the people who actually know what they're talking about," Tassiter shrugged. Hopefully his nonchalance would be enough to satisfy Lawrence and if wasn't, the wine would make it hard for him to remember the exact details tomorrow.

"Y-yeah it is," Lawrence thoughtfully hiccuped, nearly splashing his collar. "That would be an absolute nightmare."

Tell me about it. "Well Lawrence, it's been a pleasure as always, but I really do need to get some sleep tonight. We need to do this more often."

Lawrence hummed in agreement. "You're the one with the busy schedule."

"Heavy is the head and all that," Tassiter waved away as he stretched out in his seat, spine popping all the way down. "Give my regards to your husband, and I'll be sure to send you two something nice for your anniversary."

"It better be coming from you," Lawrence toasted the screen with his bottle. "Goodnight Harold."

"Lawrence," he toasted back and the call disconnected. Settling back in his chair, he massaged at his temples in an effort to quell the headache that had been slowly building throughout the day. The wine had taken the edge off, but what Lawrence had said was threatening to bring it back.

He'd been told point blank by the most capable man he knew that blocking Angel's power was all but impossible, and the news from the engineers working on John's Siren countermeasures hadn't been much better either. Some smartass on the team had informed Tassiter that development had ground to a halt on the basis that they had no way to test whether or not the devices were working. When he questioned the man's ability to flip on a switch, the engineer reminded him that turning them on wouldn't help any. The problem lay with not having a subject to test them on and, considering the only two Sirens he knew of were both on the planet below, they wouldn't be making any progress in the foreseeable future.

So for the time being, Tassiter was left with a Siren he couldn't stop and a countermeasure that may or may not actually work. He wasn't a betting man; he preferred dealing in absolutes. But Angel was never going to be the absolute that Pandora was and it was starting to look like he would be forced to choose between the two. That choice was a foregone conclusion. He wouldn't the sacrifice the company for anyone's gain - not even his own.

It was all rather depressing really.

Needing an outlet to vent his frustration, Tassiter grabbed the wine bottle from his desk and lobbed it into the trashcan with an underwhelming muffled crack of glass. He knew it would've been far more satisfying to chuck it across the room, but he just couldn't bring himself to make such a fuss. In his current mood, even the relative silence of the station was beginning to feel oppressive. He wondered at the possibility of getting another bottle, before deciding instead that he just needed a distraction from his self-pity.

Waking his terminal, he decided to check on Pandora's deportation status. In less than than an hour, his one week deadline would expire. So far, progress on relocating the majority of its natives had been disappointing to say the least. The inbred peasants had proven surprisingly fond of their hovel. Not that it mattered now; he'd deal with them soon enough. But where to start?

As if in answer to his thoughts, a pair of animated breasts startled him as they popped up in the middle of his screen. Attached to the breasts was a kiss blowing caricature of the infamous Mad Moxxi beckoning him to 'come in her Underdome for a good time'. He'd seen enough ads around the station to recognize her, but never bothered to pay any attention before. Sneering in distaste at the outfit she wore, he wasn't impressed. My god, what a trashy woman. Clicking on the advertisement, he knew exactly how he was going to cheer himself up.

Glancing over the site, it seemed that Moxxi had no intentions of leaving the planet judging by the venues scheduled well into next month. Barbaric and gratuitous, her bloodsport had no place on Hyperion's Pandora. The Underdome would serve as the perfect example. It took him only a few minutes to type up the requisition forms and forward them to the docks. While he waited for confirmation, he decided to amuse himself and looked up Moxxi's contact information. Punching them into his terminal, he waited for the call to connect. He chuckled to himself at the thought that he was actually drunk dialing Mad Moxxi, but figured she was probably used to that.

Moxxi answered on the second ring, her breasts briefly dominating the screen until she sat back into her velvet lined chair. The room behind her looked like a dimly lit red womb shadowed in hanging silks and upholstered in even more tasteless velvet. The backdrop wouldn't look out of place at a cheap brothel. Amazingingly, he had finally found someone skankier than the Cowgirl!

"Well hello there, sugar," Moxxi greeted sweetly. "What can I do you for?"

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Moxxi," Tassiter began, doing his best impression of a straight face. "My name is Harold Tassiter, President of the Hyperion Corporation. I'm assuming you recognize me from my planetwide broadcast last week - the one that's been playing regularly."

"Honey, I'm sure everyone does at this point," she smiled. "You might consider turning it into a jingle."

"Oh, that's cute," he laughed. "I suppose I can see where your appeal is."

Moxxi's smile hardened just a hair, but otherwise she remained as pleasant as ever. "So is this call business or pleasure? In my experience, the two tend to go hand in hand."

"Maybe I just found your number on a bathroom stall and figured what the hell." Tassiter was having too much fun with this. "Unfortunately, this call is all business."

It seemed that he had reached the end of her patience as her forced smile fell away and any air of pleasantness between them disappeared. "Look, my Underdome is doing well without any corporate sponsorships at the moment, so I'm afraid I'm not interested in anything you have to offer."

"I think you'll be interested in this," Tassiter smirked just as a confirmation email for his request blinked across the screen. "The Hyperion Corporation takes a firm stance against bloodsport and other such barbaric practices. Seeing as how Pandora is now property of Hyperion, I'm afraid we can't allow such events to continue. This is a courtesy call to inform you that the Hyperion Corporation has decided to terminate your small business enterprise."

Moxxi nonchalantly leaned into the camera. "Let me tell you a little secret, sugar. Dahl and Atlas both had the same plans for this place, and look where that got them. The inmates are running the asylum now and there's nothing you and your corporate suits can do about it. So you'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly shaking in my push-up."

Defiant til the end. Despite the clown makeup, Tassiter found himself slightly impressed. He couldn't fault her logic either, but things were different now and he was about to give this planet a very rude awakening. "In my experience, sometimes when the inmates take over you have to burn the prison down. Which is why we're delivering ten tons of high explosives to your coliseum. I'm sure it'll make for quite the spectacle."

"Hold on a second," her cool indifference shattered. "Let's not do anything drastic here. I have a lot to offer you. Maybe we could work out something mutually beneficial?"

"I'm sorry to say that's impossible," Tassiter didn't even try looking contrite. "I've already ordered the destruction of your dome. As I said: this is just a courtesy call. I hope you can run in that ridiculous outfit because you don't have much time."

He watched as the stages of shock washed across Moxxi's face. He had seen the same expression on countless employees he'd fired over the years and it never ceased to be entertaining. His enjoyment was short lived however, as she hastily cursed him before terminating the call. Not wanting to miss anything, he pulled up a satellite view of the coliseum and waited for the fireworks to begin.

This was by far the best stress relief he'd ever had.

A/N: Hey, we're not dead! Sorry about the long absence, life has been really weird lately and things have finally started to stabilize, which means - fingers crossed - that we should finally get to a regular updating schedule.

Not much to say about this chapter since it's mostly just plot setup. Thanks for your support while we were gone.