Chapter 65: Crash, Burn, and Teleport
I stood in the main assembly bay with my arms crossed, watching the Constructor hum along like it had never tried to explode on me in the first place. Even though it did. Which I was only mildly bitter about.
The place already looked different—cleaner lines, faster-moving arms, and rows of brand-new loaders standing at perfect attention like slightly murderous chrome soldiers. Felicity’s blue hologram floated above the core, looking entirely too smug for someone who’d only been plugged in for a few hours.
“Production is running at ninety-eight percent efficiency,” she announced, her voice carrying that crisp, superior tone I was already learning to expect. “The first wave of upgraded loaders is ready for deployment. Try not to get them all blown up immediately, Jack.”
“Not bad, Felicity,” I said, genuinely impressed as I walked the line of motionless robots. “Not bad at all. These things actually look like they could win a fight instead of just providing expensive target practice.”
Or suicide-bombing they’re way to victory, with dreams of a digital heaven filled with seventy-two virgin mactops… that analogy got way darker than I intended. Whoops.
Felicity’s hologram gave a little bow. “High praise from the man who nearly turned my new home into modern art.”
I let that one slide.
For now.
“Great. So we’ve got the start of a real robot army.” I allowed. “Question is, how do we use it to take back Helios? Rockets are officially off the table after Scooter’s last death trap nearly killed my pregnant girlfriend. And also Roland.”
“Thanks for remembering I exist.” Roland said, dryly.
“And even if we built a Fast Travel network down here on Elpis, there’s no way we’d get a clean signal up to the station.” I continued my point, immediately ignoring Roland’s existence. “Long-range transmissions are still completely jammed.”
The rest of the team shifted around me—Roland leaning on his shotgun looking strangely annoyed for some reason, Athena scanning the loaders with professional interest, Gaige and Angel already whispering excitedly, and Lilith standing close enough that I could see the faint green tint that kept flickering across her face.
Felicity’s hologram pulsed once, almost like she was enjoying this.
The sick freak.
“That would be because I was the one blocking long-range signals. Dahl security protocols when I was still… shall we say, less than cooperative on the Drakensburg. Now that I’m operating under more agreeable terms, I could lift the block.” She paused, tilting her head. “If you ask nicely.”
I stared at her for a second, then let out a long sigh. “Fine. Felicity, my dear brilliant and extremely generous AI partner, would you please lift the long-range communications block so we don’t have to kamikaze another rocket into space?”
“There. Was that so hard?” she replied sweetly. “Block lifted. You’re welcome.”
Gaige’s eyes lit up like I’d just handed her a legendary. “A dedicated Fast Travel station tuned straight to Helios? Yes! We did wonders with the network on Pandora.”
Did we? All I remember is that we put a proto-GLaDOS in charge… hope I don’t regret that.
“We could set one up right here next to the Constructor—stable connection, high bandwidth, the works.” Gaige was a focused woman, I’d give her that. “Maybe even spin up a smaller support AI to run traffic control!”
Angel nodded rapidly beside her, already pulling out her ECHO device. “We could link it directly to the Constructor’s power grid. It would be so much safer than another rocket. And way more reliable.”
Claptrap rolled forward immediately, arms waving. “Ooh! Ooh! I can help! I’m great with Fast Travel stuff! I’ve traveled all over Pandora! I can be the official Fast Travel Supervisor!”
Felicity didn’t even hesitate. “You are assigned moral support duty. Stand in the corner and look encouraging. Quietly.”
Claptrap deflated with a sad electronic whine but rolled over to the corner anyway, muttering about being underappreciated. To be fair, he did try to overthrow me. Under the circumstances, I’ve been shockingly nice…
Great. Now I can’t stop thinking of Portal references.
“Ugh. So hungry.” Lilith suddenly made a small noise beside me and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I want… pickles. And… engine grease? Why does that sound good right now?”
Siren physiology, maybe? I don’t know!
You know, I never really put much thought into it, but I already had a Siren daughter back before I started sleeping with one. What are the odds that my newest kid will actually turn out normal? Meh. Fuck it, normal’s overrated.
All I needed to focus on was being a good boyfriend and father.
How the hell do I do that?!
I turned to her instantly. “Pickles and engine grease? Okay, I can work with that. There’s probably some pickles in the supply crates and I’ll find the greasiest thing we’ve got—”
“Jack,” she cut me off, looking equal parts amused and nauseous, “you are not bringing me actual engine grease.”
Thank fuck.
“Just… maybe some ration bars or something. This kid is weird.”
Roland chuckled from the sidelines. “Pregnancy cravings are a hell of a thing. My cousin once ate an entire jar of moonshine-soaked bullets.”
Before I could fire back with something clever, Felicity’s voice chimed in again. “Veto on whatever ridiculous plan was about to come out of your mouth, Jack. I saw that glint in your eye. No ‘just strap a Fast Travel beacon to a loader and launch it at Helios’ ideas today.”
I threw my hands up. “I wasn’t going to suggest that… exactly.”
The team laughed, even Lilith, though she still looked a little queasy.
I slipped an arm around her waist anyway, pulling her gently against my side while Gaige and Angel dove deeper into excited technical chatter about the new station. For the first time since we’d landed on this dusty rock, things actually felt like they were moving forward.
We had the army. We had Felicity. And soon we’d have a straight shot back to Helios.
Now all we had to do was not screw it up.
…
Angel wiped a streak of lunar dust from her cheek and leaned over the half-assembled Fast Travel pedestal, her fingers flying across the exposed wiring while Gaige’s mechanical arm worked in perfect sync beside her.
The station sat right next to the Constructor’s main bay, close enough that Felicity’s floating hologram could watch their every move like a very judgmental supervisor. This was exactly the kind of project Angel lived for—building something useful, something that could actually bring their family back together.
“Hand me the phase coupler,” Gaige said, grinning as she reached out without looking. Angel passed it over immediately, their hands brushing in that familiar way that still sent a little spark through her chest every time.
“Careful with the alignment,” Angel replied, bumping her shoulder gently against Gaige’s. “Last time we rushed the calibration on Pandora we accidentally sent a crate of ammo to the wrong continent. Twice.”
Gaige laughed, the sound warm and bright even through her welding mask. “Yeah, but we fixed it. And now we’re building one that can punch straight through to Helios. This is going to be epic.”
Athena crouched on the other side of the pedestal, tightening structural bolts with precise, military efficiency. “Make sure the anchoring is rated for lunar quakes. Last thing we need is the whole thing shaking loose during a fight.”
“Already accounted for,” Janey called from atop a nearby scaffolding, where she was running power conduits. “I reinforced the base with Hyperion-grade stabilizers. Should hold up even if Zarpedon decides to drop another mountain on us.”
Felicity’s hologram shimmered into clearer focus above them, arms crossed. “Initial design is… quaint. You’re using a Dahl phase inverter from 2024? Adorable. Routing optimization suggestion incoming—adjust the third harmonic by twelve percent or you’ll get a lovely twenty percent signal loss.”
Angel made the adjustment before Gaige could even comment, both of them moving like they shared the same brain. “Thanks, Felicity. That’s actually perfect.”
“See? Teamwork,” Gaige said, shooting Angel a quick, affectionate wink that made Angel’s cheeks warm despite the cold lunar air. “My genius girlfriend and our extremely judgmental AI. Best combo ever.”
They worked like that for the next hour—banter flying back and forth, tools passing between hands, Athena and Janey offering grounded, tactical improvements while Gaige and Angel geeked out over the more elegant technical solutions.
Felicity kept up a steady stream of commentary, half helpful optimization and half savage roast.
“That support strut is at a forty-three degree angle. Were you aiming for artistic expression or actual structural integrity?”
Angel bit back a laugh and corrected it. “Better?”
“Marginally less likely to collapse and kill you all. I’ll take it.”
Claptrap chose that exact moment to “help.” He rolled up carrying a massive plasma torch that was clearly the wrong tool for the job, waving it enthusiastically. “I brought the big one! For extra power!”
“No, wait—!” Angel started, but it was too late.
Claptrap bumped the torch against an exposed power coupling. A bright arc of electricity jumped, sparks flew, and a small fireball erupted near the base of the pedestal. Athena yanked him back by the handle on his head while Janey slammed the emergency cutoff.
Felicity’s voice cut through the chaos, dry as lunar dust. “And that is why emotional support rivet guns should never be promoted. Well done, shortstack. You nearly invented a new crater.”
Once the smoke cleared and everyone confirmed nothing critical had melted, they powered the station up for the first real test. Angel held her breath as Gaige initiated the sequence. A low hum built, violet energy swirled inside the arch, and a small test crate sitting on the pad vanished in a clean flash of light.
It reappeared ten feet away exactly where they’d programmed it to go.
“Yes!” Gaige whooped, throwing her arms around Angel and lifting her off the ground for a spinning hug. “We did it! Stable connection, no signal degradation!”
Angel hugged her back tightly, laughing into Gaige’s shoulder. Athena gave a rare, approving nod. Janey pumped her fist from the scaffolding. Even Felicity looked mildly impressed.
“We should link it to the Sanctuary network too,” Angel said once Gaige set her down, still buzzing with excitement. “That way we can coordinate with everyone back home. Speaking of… we should probably check in. See how Acting-Mayor Brick is holding up.”
They patched through on the main ECHO console. Brick’s face appeared, looking surprisingly cheerful beside a grinning Tiny Tina.
“Hey! Vault Hunters!” Brick boomed. “We’re doing great! Just great! No problems at all. Tell Jack not to worry about a thing.”
In the background, Mordecai’s voice carried clearly. “Bloodwing, no! Drop the psycho! He’s not a treat—dammit, not another revolt!”
Tiny Tina waved innocently. “We’re totally fine! Just some minor… wildlife training. Whoops, we’re going through a tunnel! Cshhhhh—have fun on the moon! Cshhhhh—don’t hurry back!”
The connection cut abruptly.
The group stared at the blank screen in silence.
Athena raised an eyebrow. “That was suspicious.”
“Extremely,” Janey agreed.
Gaige winced. “So… who wants to tell Jack that Sanctuary might be dealing with a rogue Bloodwing-led Psycho revolt?”
“Not it,” Athena said immediately.
“Not it,” Janey echoed.
Gaige held up both hands. “Hard pass.”
All eyes turned to Angel.
She let out a long, defeated sigh, shoulders slumping. Why is it always her?
“Fu—” she muttered under her breath, then caught herself. She wasn’t supposed to swear—Dad had raised her better than that. Still, in moments like this, Angel really, really wished she was allowed to.
She rubbed her face with both hands. “Fine. I’ll tell him. But if he goes full overprotective dad mode and tries to rocket back to Pandora immediately, I’m blaming all of you.”
Gaige slipped an arm around her waist and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “That’s my brave big-sister-to-be. We’ll protect you from the dad rant.”
Angel leaned into her girlfriend, already dreading the conversation. At least the Fast Travel station worked. One crisis at a time.
…
The alarms started screaming again just as I was about to suggest we take a five-minute break. Red lights strobed across the Constructor bay like an especially angry rave, and Felicity’s voice cut through the speakers with the calm detachment of someone watching a slow-motion train wreck.
“Incoming hostile vessel,” she announced, sounding far too entertained. “It’s the Drakensburg—or what’s left of it. The Bosun appears to have achieved liftoff.”
… how?
It’s a crashed ship!
“He is currently attempting to use the wreckage as an improvised kinetic missile aimed directly at Concordia.” Felicity continued, pointing out the very obvious and impending flying ship. “Ten out of ten for dramatic flair, zero out of ten for structural integrity.”
I grabbed my sniper rifle and sprinted for the outer observation deck, the team falling in behind me. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How in the holy hell did that idiot actually get the damn thing flying?”
The wrecked Dahl warship loomed in the sky like a drunk, burning whale, shedding pieces of hull plating as it descended in a slow, wobbling arc toward us. The new loaders rolled out in formation, weapons already tracking, while Roland and Athena took up positions on either side of me.
Gaige deployed Deathtrap, and Angel started charging Anarchy shots. Lilith stood next to me, one hand on her stomach and the other glowing with violet Siren energy.
“Target lock acquired,” Felicity narrated cheerfully, like a sports commentator. Worst AI ever. “Current trajectory suggests he’s aiming for the Constructor bay. Bold strategy. Let’s see how this plays out.”
We opened fire.
Loaders poured on suppressive plasma, Roland’s shotgun boomed, and I lined up shot after shot into the ship’s failing engines. The Drakensburg shuddered and listed hard, trailing fire and debris like a comet with commitment issues.
For a second it looked like we might actually have to work for this.
Then the laws of physics remembered it was a half-destroyed wreck held together by hope and duct tape. With duck tape being the stronger element.
A massive chunk of the stern broke off mid-descent, sending the whole ship into a violent corkscrew. It veered sharply and slammed into the lunar surface just outside Concordia’s atmospheric bubble in a spectacular, earth-shaking fireball that lit up the entire crater.
No heroic impact. No dramatic sacrifice. Just a burning pile of scrap metal and regret.
Felicity let out a low whistle. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t attempt atmospheric re-entry in a ship that was already crashed. Beautiful fireworks, though.”
A final transmission crackled over the open channel, the Bosun’s voice strained and dramatic even as flames consumed him on the airless surface. “This… is for the Lost Legion! For glory! For… for Zarpedonnnnn— AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
The screaming lasted longer far than I expected, considering there wasn’t any oxygen out there. Impressive lung capacity. Not sure how that explains the fire, though… meh.
Probably just oxygen tanks blowing up.
I lowered my rifle and stared at the distant inferno. “Is anyone else craving marshmallows?”
Lilith’s head snapped toward me instantly, her eyes wide with sudden, intense pregnancy cravings. “Yes! Do we have any?! I want them. Right now. Roasted. Perfectly golden.”
Before I could even offer to go look, Claptrap rolled forward with way too much pride. “Nope! I destroyed them all! Every last bag! Out of sheer envy for how soft and loveable they were! No one deserves that kind of happiness except me!”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Lilith’s expression shifted from craving to pure, unfiltered rage in record time. Violet energy flared around her like a storm. “You little shit—”
She phase-walked forward, grabbed Claptrap by the handle on his head, and hurled him straight into the air with a burst of Siren power. The robot went sailing out of the atmospheric bubble and into the void, tumbling end over end as he screamed, “Not agaaaaaaaain—!”
I wasn’t entirely sure if she’d aimed him at Helios or straight toward Hell. Either seemed equally likely right now.
The entire team stood there in stunned silence, watching Claptrap’s tiny form disappear into the black. Even Felicity’s hologram had gone quiet for once.
I slipped an arm around Lilith’s shoulders and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She’s handling the pregnancy surprisingly well, all things considered. Mood swings included.
“Remind me never to get between you and marshmallows, babe,” I murmured.
She leaned into me, the rage already fading into exhausted amusement. “Smart man.”
The burning wreckage of the Drakensburg continued to light up the horizon like the galaxy’s worst campfire. One more problem solved by sheer incompetence.
Now we just had to deal with whatever fresh chaos Claptrap caused when he inevitably crash-landed somewhere important.
…
Rhys stared into the glowing vending machine like it had personally betrayed him. The display read “OUT OF STOCK” in big, merciless red letters. Every single slot was empty. Not a single protein bar, cheese puff, or neon-colored electrolyte pouch remained. This was it. The true end of the line.
“Oh no,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Oh no, no, no.”
Vaughn looked up from where he was slumped against the couch, eyes wide with the same dawning horror. “It’s gone. All of it. We’re doomed, Rhys. Doomed!”
The pounding on the reinforced office door had been going on for minutes now—Lost Legion troops shouting demands and slamming something heavy against the metal—but right now the empty vending machine felt like the more immediate apocalypse.
Rhys spun toward his best friend. “Are you absolutely sure? Did you check the back? What about the little flappy thingy at the bottom? Sometimes stuff gets stuck! It has to be stuck!”
Vaughn threw his hands up. “Don’t you think I would have noticed that?! I shook it, Rhys! I shook it like my life depended on it! It’s all gone. Every last crumb!”
Rhys paced frantically, running his hands through his already messy hair. “Okay, okay, stay calm. What about the granola bars? There were still a few left this morning! We can eat those. They’re… edible. Technically.”
“Those are health snacks, Rhys,” Vaughn said solemnly, as if delivering a eulogy. “Health. Snacks.”
Rhys stopped pacing. “So? You drink protein shakes like, all the time. Those are basically the same thing, right?”
Vaughn looked at him with the dead-eyed stare of a man who had accepted his fate. “They were all chocolate flavor. Every last one of them. I have never consumed something completely healthy in my entire life.”
“But the abs!”
“The abs are a lie, Rhys!” Vaughn cried, tears of dispair running down his face. “Just a flimsy product of protein, and exercise! None of it comes from fruits or vegetables!”
In the background, the Legion troops kept hammering on the door, the reinforced plating starting to dent and groan under the assault. Neither of them paid much attention. The snack situation was clearly the bigger emergency.
Without the promise of more food to fuel their survival, hope finally evaporated.
And wordlessly, with just a look, Rhys and Vaughn decided the most important thing… was to die doing what they loved.
Vaughn dropped to the floor and started doing desperate push-ups, muttering “one more rep… just one more…” between gritted teeth.
Rhys threw himself into Jack’s ridiculous executive chair and began frantically button-mashing every control on the desk interface he could reach—random lights flickering, speakers blasting static, chair vibrating wildly.
The door buckled harder. A visible crack spiderwebbed across the reinforced panel.
Rhys and Vaughn locked eyes across the room.
“I love you, bro,” Rhys said, voice thick with emotion.
“I love you too, bro,” Vaughn replied, still mid-push-up.
The door finally burst open with a deafening screech of metal. Lost Legion troops poured in, weapons raised and shouting orders.
Which was exactly when something small, yellow, and screaming crashed through the massive observation window like a deranged bowling ball… Claptrap? Holy shit, it is!
The emergency ray shield snapped on instantly, sealing the breach before anyone could get sucked into space, but the impact sent Claptrap ricocheting off the floor, walls, and two Legionnaires before he skidded to a stop in the middle of the room.
“Ta-da!” Claptrap announced, striking a heroic pose despite the fresh scorch marks on his chassis. “Your savior has arrived! Bow before your new robot overlord—uh, I mean, hero!”
Rhys and Vaughn stared for half a second in pure awe.
“He’s… he’s a god,” Rhys whispered reverently.
“A tiny yellow god,” Vaughn agreed, tears in his eyes.
Claptrap basked in the worship for approximately two seconds before three more Lost Legion troops charged in. He immediately rolled behind Jack’s massive desk with surprising speed. “I help those who help themselves! Good luck, fleshy worshippers! Don’t die too quickly!”
Rhys and Vaughn’s brief religious experience evaporated as they dove for cover, panic returning full force.
The Fast Travel station in the corner of the office suddenly flared to life.
Violet light swirled violently as six figures materialized in perfect formation—Jack at the front with his signature smirk, Lilith glowing with Siren energy, Roland and Athena already firing, Gaige’s Deathtrap deploying with an angry buzz, and Angel unleashing precise Anarchy shots.
The Vault Hunters went to work immediately. Gunfire filled the office in a beautiful, chaotic symphony. Legion troops dropped one after another as the team moved like they’d rehearsed this exact moment a hundred times.
When the last soldier hit the floor, Jack stepped forward over the smoking bodies, holstering his pistol with perfect dramatic flair.
“Daddy’s home.”
Rhys let out a shaky, relieved laugh and practically collapsed against the desk. “Oh thank god. I have never been happier to see anyone in my entire life.”
Vaughn scrambled to his feet, still breathing hard. “You have no idea how long we’ve been stuck in here. The snacks ran out. The snacks, Jack. It was apocalyptic.”
Angel and Gaige rushed over immediately. Angel pulled Rhys into a quick, tight hug while Gaige gave Vaughn a friendly clap on the shoulder.
“You guys okay?” Angel asked, scanning them both with clear concern.
“We are now,” Rhys said, grinning ear to ear as he looked at the group. “Wait—how did you even get up here? That Fast Travel station wasn’t working before.”
“Long story, but,” Gaige beamed proudly. “Let's just say I’m pretty handy. Huh?! Get it? Because we—”
“—both have metal arms!” Rhys finished at the same time as her, with matching excitement. “Yes! Robot arms for life! High five!”
“Noice!”
The sound of metal slapping against metal wasn’t particularly pleasant to his ears. But it was awesome.
“Honestly, though, it’s mostly thanks to our new ‘friend.’” Gaige admitted, with finger quotes.
“Who?” Rhys asked, curiously.
“Systems analysis complete.” A new voice chimed in through the office comms—smooth, clear, and unmistakably digital. “Lost Legion forces are fragmented across seventeen decks. Also, your browser history is concerning, Jack. We’ll discuss that later.”
Rhys and Vaughn both startled at the unfamiliar voice.
“Uh… is that the ‘friend?’” Rhys asked, eyes wide.
“Yep.” Jack waved a hand casually. “Meet Felicity. Our new voluntary AI partner. She’s helping with the robot army situation. Long story.”
Felicity’s tone turned dryly amused. “Charmed. Now if you’re all done with the emotional reunion, I’ve already identified three critical weak points in Zarpedon’s current defensive grid. Shall we get to work, or would you prefer more group hugs?”
Vaughn looked at Rhys, then back at the assembled Vault Hunters, then at the smoking remains of the Legion troops.
“I think,” he said slowly, “we’re going to need a lot more snacks for this conversation.”
Rhys could only nod in exhausted agreement as relief finally washed over him. They weren’t alone anymore. The cavalry had arrived—and they’d brought an angry Siren, a sarcastic AI, and enough firepower to make even Helios nervous.
…
I leaned back in my familiar executive chair, the one that still smelled faintly of panic sweat and vending machine crumbs, for which I will have my revenge. But I let myself savor the moment nevertheless.
It felt good to be back in the captain’s seat.
The whole team had crammed in—Roland, Athena, Gaige, Angel, Lilith, Rhys, Vaughn, even Gladstone Katoa who kept fidgeting with a tablet like he was afraid someone would take it away. Felicity’s blue hologram hovered near the central display, looking every bit the smug strategist.
Things were going pretty well. Not perfectly.
I mean, the place still smelled faintly of gunfire and body odor. But with the Lost Legion corpses cleared out, the blood mopped off the floor, and the door reinforced again, it was starting to feel like home.
Which is why I really hated to ask this next part.
“Alright,” I said, gesturing at the holographic map of Helios rotating above the table. “Give it to me straight. How bad is it?”
I hated working from home.
Felicity zoomed in on several red-highlighted sections. “Zarpedon still controls the command deck, the Eye of Helios weapon systems, and most of the central transit hubs. She has approximately forty percent of the station’s security forces remaining and full access to the orbital laser.”
“Shit.” I said, summarizing the entire situation.
“Quite.” Felicity said dryly. “However, your dramatic return has caused noticeable fractures in Lost Legion morale. They were not expecting the actual Handsome Jack to show up with a functioning robot army.”
Rhys grinned like an idiot and tapped a few commands on the desk. “Speaking of morale… you’ve gotta see this.”
He pulled up a compilation he and Vaughn had clearly recorded.
Hugo Vasquez’s greatest hits played across the screen—zero-G toupee incident, decaf-only coffee machine, the Founding Fathers metal blast, and the chair ejection. The footage was pure gold.
Vaughn puffed up with pride. “We call it ‘Vasquez’s Greatest Humiliations.’ We’ve been looping it on random internal channels for hours.”
The team burst out laughing. Even Athena cracked a rare smile. Gaige high-fived Vaughn while Angel shook her head in amused disbelief. My own morale shot straight up. Nothing quite like watching a sleazy middle-manager get absolutely destroyed to get the blood pumping.
“Beautiful work, gentlemen,” I said, chuckling. “That’s the kind of psychological warfare I can get behind.”
Felicity cleared her non-existent throat. “While the comedy is mildly amusing, we have actual work to do. I’ve identified three critical weak points that, if secured, will let us retake key systems without a full frontal assault. You’ll need specific personnel credentials to bypass the biometric locks.”
She highlighted three locations on the map.
“Dr. Langois in the Stalker Biome—specializes in cloaking technology. Dr. Torres in Aquatic Observation—controls the water reclamation and environmental subsystems. And Dr. Grayson in Robotics Durability and Adaptability Research—his overrides will give us direct access to the production lines still running on the station.”
Gladstone perked up at the mention of robotics. “Grayson? I know his work! We collaborated on a few loader prototypes. If we can get to him, I can help fast-track integration with our new units.”
I nodded, already mentally mapping routes. “Good. We hit those three labs, grab the doctors, and use their credentials to carve out sections of the station. Then we push for the command deck and the Eye.”
I glanced over at Lilith, who was standing with one hand resting protectively on her stomach. The sight made something tight and fiercely protective twist in my chest.
“And you,” I added, voice softening despite myself, “are staying back at the Fast Travel point once we secure a perimeter. No running into firefights in your condition. We’ve got this covered.”
The words were barely out of my mouth before Lilith turned and gave me the look. That specific Siren-powered glare that could freeze a bandit at fifty paces.
I immediately backpedaled. “Or… you know what? You do whatever you want. You’re a grown woman and an extremely dangerous Siren. I was just… suggesting. Strongly. With love.”
Lilith’s expression didn’t soften, but the corner of her mouth twitched like she was fighting a smile.
Before I could dig myself any deeper, Claptrap rolled forward dramatically, arms waving. “Hey! What about me? I demand an apology from Lilith for throwing me into deep space like yesterday’s trash! I could’ve burned up on re-entry! I deserve compensation! I deserve—”
He caught Lilith turning that same look toward him and immediately rolled backward so fast he nearly tipped over.
“Never mind! Apology not necessary! In fact, I apologize for existing! Please don’t phase me again, scary pregnant lady!”
The room erupted in laughter. Even Felicity let out a short, amused chime.
I looked around at all of them—my dysfunctional, ridiculous, unstoppable team—and felt a surge of real confidence for the first time in days. We had the upgraded robot army pumping out more loaders by the minute. We had reliable Fast Travel. We had momentum.
“Alright,” I said, straightening up with a grin. “We’ve got the tools, we’ve got the targets, and we’ve got way too much attitude between us. Time to finish this.”
Lilith met my eyes across the table and gave me a small, determined nod despite everything. The stakes had never been higher—not just for Helios, but for the future we were fighting for now.
It was time to throw the gauntlet. Hard.
…
Tassiter stood at the head of the long, gleaming conference table, his hands clenched so tightly behind his back that his nails dug into his palms. The holographic faces of the Hyperion Board of Directors stared back at him with the same bored, calculating expressions they always wore.
He had rehearsed this pitch for hours, yet the words still tasted like ash in his mouth.
“Gentlemen,” he began, forcing his voice into its most reasonable register, “Jack has become a liability. His unsanctioned actions on Elpis, the loss of control over Helios, the Meriff incident, and now this… personal vendetta with the Lost Legion.”
One that Tassiter certainly didn’t help cultivate by setting the Legion on the hunt. Certainly not.
“He is operating entirely outside protocol. We should terminate his position immediately before he drags the entire company down with him.”
Silence hung in the air for several excruciating seconds.
One of the older board members finally leaned forward, his hologram flickering slightly. “Terminate Jack? After the results he’s delivered? The Vault Hunter operations on Pandora, the increased loader sales, the way he turned that border world mess into a profit center? No. He’s too effective. Reckless, yes. But effective.”
Another director nodded. “The board agrees. Jack stays. Clean up the Elpis situation if you must, Tassiter, but do it without touching our most productive asset.”
Tassiter felt the rejection like a slap. He kept his face perfectly neutral, offering a tight smile and a small bow of deference as the meeting dissolved into static. Once the last hologram winked out, he turned on his heel and strode out of the conference room, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the floor.
Too effective. Of course that was their answer. Jack could set half the galaxy on fire and they’d still praise him for the warmth.
He walked down the sterile corridor, jaw tight, mind racing. Firing Jack through official channels clearly wasn’t going to work. The man had the board wrapped around his finger, charmed them with results and that infuriating charisma. So maybe the problem wasn’t Jack at all, really.
Maybe the problem was the board itself.
Tassiter slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway, a slow, dangerous smile creeping across his face as the thought settled in and took root. Removing the board… now that had potential. A complete restructuring at the top. New leadership. Leadership that understood the value of control.
He stood there for a long moment, savoring the idea, before continuing down the corridor with a noticeably lighter step.
Yes. That could work very nicely indeed.