Chapter Text
Having driven for a while, David is starting to get the hang of how to handle the massive weight of Skagzilla. The key seems to be in pushing the boosters whenever he found himself losing speed, such as on a climb uphill or through a pack of bandits.
Speaking of bandits, the Edgerunner was starting to feel much less conflicted about wiping them out. After seeing what they were propagating, both him and Becca agreed that anyone running COV colors was probably best wiped from existence with extreme prejudice. Maelstrom might actually be more stable than these guys, and you know it’s bad when you prefer dealing with those borged-out boosters.
But for the most part, their drive back to Boomtown was a peaceful one. When they arrive, Mordecai is waiting for them at the entrance.
“Great work out there. I hashed things out with Chef Frank, managed to convince him to not serve us his secret recipe. He’s working on a new, non-secret recipe that actually has meat in it to supply the Raiders with.”
Both of the new Vault Hunters breathe a sigh of relief at the news. Knowing that they’d be eating something actually edible would be a damn relief after everything they saw today. Mordecai grins at their reaction, then waves someone on the other side of the gate. Out come Tina and Brick, both dressed in what likely passes for party attire. Even looking at Mordecai, he seems to be dressed in the same style as usual, but it cleaner and less packed with hunting essentials.
“If you’re willing to drive, we got somewhere to be. I’ll navigate. And don’t worry, it ain’t a job.” Mordecai makes his way over to Skagzilla, whistling appreciatively as he looks at the car. “Ellie wasn’t kidding, you guys claimed yourselves a nice set of wheels.”
The two cyberpunks look at each other, then shrug and get in. Notably, they climb up inside the truck bed. David pipes up at Mordecai, who was about to get into the turret seat. “Honestly, I’ve been driving all day, so I’d rather kick back in the trunk this time.”
Mordecai shrugs, then looks at Tina. “Shield-Grenade-Shotgun for the driver’s seat?”
“You’re on, Birdman!”
The two proceed to do three rounds of what Rebecca guesses is the Pandoran equivalent of rock-paper-scissors (grenade breaks shield, shield blocks shotgun, and shotgun uses a grenade as a clay pigeon, apparently), and Tina seems to be the one who wins. With a deep, suffering sigh, Mordecai climbs into the turret. The Hunter turns to David and Rebecca, smiling apologetically. “Sorry for what’s to come, Tina’s still learning. She’s figured out how to not crash though!”
Brick, for all his apparent recklessness and utter disdain for safety measures, was buckling up in the back by tying himself to the car with a thick rope.
That didn’t instill a lot of confidence in the young demolitions expert and her car-wrangling skills.
Both of the cyberpunks were used to really reckless driving – Falco was a damn crazy chauffeur when he wanted to be. But there was still a big difference between the car wiz Nomad and the insane bomb-maker, and so David made sure to hold really hard onto the cage surrounding the driver seat. Rebecca, meanwhile, grabbed onto the next most secure thing – David’s arm. Gorilla Arms boasted a near-unbreakable grip (Brick notwithstanding), and there was no reason to think that reckless driving would be the thing to change that.
Course, there was nothing to be done about their already-tortured stomachs. All they could do was try not to hit Brick with a face-full of stomach acid. The drive wasn’t even that long, Tina’s driving was just that awful.
Once the hellish voyage through the sea of sand that was Devil’s Razor was over, David and Rebecca all but rushed out of the car in horror. Hurling one more time and panting in pain, the two take a few seconds to catch their breaths. Then they look up ap the three Vault Hunters that accompanied them – Brick seems to be no worse for wear, while Mordecai was unsteady on his legs, looking for all the world like an old doe that had a freight train ran on it due to mating season. As he looks apologetically to the cyberpunks, he can only shrug as if saying ‘I tried to avoid this’. The two then turn to Tina, who almost seemed refreshed – as if the ride they’d just experienced had been a massage for her.
David is the first to speak up, pointing at Tina: “Next time, either you get your own car, or I’m walking.”, to which Rebecca replies with a muttered “Same”.
“Aww come on, ya wusses! I wasn’t that bad, ya just need to iron up them stomachs. Look at Brick-” the girl points to her massive friend “-he’s completely fine!”
Mordecai cuts in on that one: “Brick could lose an arm and still lift stuff with the stump, if he doesn’t just grow a new one altogether. Can’t count him.” Then he starts walking up a set of stairs leading to a sizeable statue of a man. Looking up at it, David can tell it’s some kind of soldier, but not much else. Next to it is a smaller statue, this one of a familiar-looking bird.
Brick notices him staring, then gives him a pat on the back that nearly sends the younger man into the wall from pure force alone. “This here’s Roland’s Rest. Main digs of the Crimson Raiders for now, and also the final resting place of a couple good friends.” Brick has a nostalgic smile as he says this, and something sounds familiar to the Edgerunner. Then it clicks.
Becca beats him to the question though.
“So that’s Roland?”
Tina, who’s usual hyper personality seems dampened, nods. “One of the few heroes this planet has. Lotta people miss him. And next to him is Bloodwing, Mordie’s previous partner in hunting.”
Still looking at the statue, David feels an odd stirring in his chest, muttering to himself. “So that’s how they remember people who die as legends…”
Becca looks at him, then scoffs and elbows him playfully. “Damn sight better than getting a drink in a bar named after you. Think the David Martinez is selling well?”
“Sure hope so, cause I never drank any of it.”
“Why’d you have it topped with NiCola if you hate the fizzy stuff?”
David shrugs. “You think you’d tell Rogue Amendiares she doesn’t know her alcohol if you were a greenhorn? Or at all?”
Becca thinks about it, then nods. “Good point. Now come on, we’ve been staring like gonks so long, we got left behind.” She starts scaling the stairs, a pep in her steps as conversation becomes more audible. David follows close behind, looking at the statue for the first few steps before he checks out the people who’re talking.
First thing he notices is a common attire – military fatigues with pieces of armor painted in dark crimson, mostly on the forearms and shins. On a table he can see some helmets, again in mostly red. Those must be some of the Crimson Raiders that were mentioned. They seem to be relaxed right now, with beer bottles in most hands, skewered meat in all others. A short rectangular robot is rolling around on one wheel, singing… some kind of dubstep? David can see a few people looking at their skewers, then the robot, then back at their skewers, as if wondering if the small stick could be used as a weapon.
Mordecai and Brick pat a few of the Raiders on the backs. Maybe those ones are veteran members?
There are also a few people who catch his eye. Ellie stands out, and the person she’s talking to is no less notable – a tall, lean man with a noticeable prosthetic right arm and leg, which are… well to say “resourceful” would probably be the way to put it politely. Aside from that, he looks downright dapper in with his hunter outfit and wide-brimmed hat. He could even see a pair of fancy glasses glinting on his face, though the right glass had been broken out and behind it is a cybereye. A bit to the side is a woman with short-cropped black hair, sitting behind the bar. And also wearing a bandit mask. And she seems to be having an argument with… David can’t tell if he’s seeing things correctly, is that a desk lamp she’s pointing at? Too much drinks, maybe? He can’t hear the argument because it’s not being shouted, but damn does she get really animated in her movements.
Rebecca is also looking in the same direction, and she shares in the confusion. “You think she can even serve drinks while, uh, occupied like that?”
“Oh don’t worry sugar. She’s not the one pouring the co*cktails today.”
A voice as smooth as silk and as sweet as honey comes from behind the cyberpunks as gloved hands land on their shoulders. When the two turn around, neither can help staring.
“See something y’all like, cuties?”
Mad Moxxi
Hobbies: Make-up, Mixology, Massive Battle Royales
David isn’t new to attractive women – Lucy was his output, after all, and even before they became a solid couple, Falco and Pilar brought him to BD Clubs on more than one occasion. Yet somehow, the woman in front of him gives off the same aura of experience and allure, but on a whole different level. It isn’t even her (very open and pronounced) cleavage. It’s the look she is giving him and Rebecca as she (very openly) checks them out. It gives off that same daredevil feel that first attracted him to Lucy, just… more natural. Like it isn’t a mask.
“Name’s Moxxi. Crimson Raider, bartender, and the best ringleader for battle royales in the galaxy. You two must be the new Vault Hunters Mordecai brought into the fold. Mind sharing your names?”
Even Becca can’t help hanging off of every word that the woman speaks. She answers almost without realizing it. “I’m Rebecca… Just Rebecca. And you… wow you raise alarms that I never thought I’d ignore.”
David nods in agreement. “Same… Uh, I’m David, David Martinez.” Every instinct in his body is telling him to both run for the hills and get closer to this Moxxi woman, and given his love of adrenaline rushes, that is a helluva weird feeling. Hell, he can hear Rebecca of all people swallow audibly – she doesn’t get intimidated by damn near anything that she can shoot, so that was definitely not an attempt at pushing down fear. Then he realizes he can hear her do something so subtle – seems Moxxi’s entrance has the effect of quieting things down.
That’s when Ellie’s voice cuts through the building haze - “Quit makin’ the new Vaulters drool, Ma! Desert’s good enough if you need someone dehydrated.” - bringing the two back from their deliberations about the buxom drink-slinger.
‘Ma?’
David looks at Moxxi more carefully, then glances at Ellie. Then back at Moxxi and sure enough – she looks no older than mid-twenties. “How-” he starts, but then Rebecca cuts him off:
“How do you look no older than 25?!”
Moxxi giggles into the back of her hand, and the sound makes the tips of the Solo’s ears turn blue. “Oh that’s mighty kind of you to say, sugar. The secret is a skin-care routine I’ve perfected over the years. But don’t ask about specific numbers – a woman’s gotta have her secrets, after all.”
Saying that, the woman saunters off with a sway in her hips towards the bar. “Tannis, sweetie, mind giving me more space to work? Also, the new Vault Hunters are here, you came to make your acquaintance with them, right?”
The woman with the bandit mask - whos argument with the desk lamp appears to be about bacon being a plague upon the world – turns to Moxxi, then to the cyberpunks. “Oh right, that was the only reason I decided to risk human interaction.” With a cheery voice, she hops over the bar and approaches the duo. When she takes off her mask, her expression seems… weirdly giddy.
Tannis
PhD In Eridian Tech, Minor in Insanity
“Hello there, new gun-toting mass-murderous recruits! I am Tannis, the leading expert on Vaults and Eridians on Pandora. I hope you’ll be ready to work in exchange for blood money, because that’s the only kind I possess at any given time. Oh, and I’ll pay handsomely for any records you can find of Typhon DeLeon, the first Vault Hunter.”
She speaks a mile a minute and by the time she pauses for breath, she’s already shook both David and Rebecca’s hands. “Now that the formalities have been properly dispensed, I should let you know that although Lilith has forbidden me from detaching your cybernetic limbs without your explicit consent and presence of mind, I have a deep and mildly sexual interest in them. So if you could make time to allow me to give them a thorough check, I’d gladly take you up on the offer.”
David doesn’t exactly like the sound of that, so he pulls his arms back from the scientist. Rebecca is more blunt in her rejection of the idea. “You near my arms with so much as a penny for a makeshift screwdriver, I’m making sure there’s one less eridian expert.”
Tannis freezes, then puts her hand in her coat pocket. David can’t help but notice the penny she was holding in her hand. “I don’t suppose that means you’ll be getting rid of the competition for me, does it? Standing offer, pays reasonably, extra if you bring me the head intact.”
David shakes his head. “We’ll pass. Maybe try acting less gonk.”
Tannis doesn’t seem to take offense at what David says, just kind of waving it off with a small laugh and her odd inflections.
“Oh, that would be completely impossible, assuming that gonk is some slang term for “mentally insufficient” which I’m not – between my immense intellect, Asperger’s, extensive catalogue of traumatic experiences, and hyperfixation on my scientific research, I’m more likely to ride a giant fish at the signal of five barrels than be normal. Though it bears mentioning I was a much more severe case when I first joined up with the Crimson Raiders, I mean I was popping blood vessels in my nose every time someone approached me. Anyways, that’s about all the social interaction I can tolerate at once, so you’ll be excusing me.”
Saying her piece, Tannis slides her bandit mask back on and makes her way back to the bar, where she disappears in the back room. This just leaves a dumbfounded pair of cyberpunks in her wake. Mordecai approaches them with a grin. “I find her kind of hard to deal with sometimes too, but she’s good people. No worse than any of us, at least. Now come on, there’s more people to meet with, like Thorn-”
The evening was short introductions for the most part. The present commanding members of the Crimson Raiders, as it were, include First Lieutenant Thorn, leader of a platoon of what basically seemed to be scouts, hackers, and ninjas; Staff Sergeant Cappy and their four medical teams (which were trained personally by some guy by the name of Zed, who also apparently maintained the med and shield vendors); and Major General Monarch, who was a robot. A sentient robot leading 5 companies of combatants, which was the majority of the battle force of the CR. That alone was a pretty crazy revelation - David had thought the mechanical body was being remotely piloted by someone else but nope, she was just a robot who became sentient for no apparent reason, and chose to be French.
They don’t meet the square robot yet, who is apparently named Claptrap (Rebecca isn’t sure if the exasperation his name was said with was part of the pronunciation), since someone had sent him off to collect… something, under threat of telling Tannis what the robot had done with her echo recorder while she wasn’t looking.
The gentleman with the hunter outfit and cyber right side introduces himself as Sir Alistair Hammerlock, hunter of great beasts and naturalist. He claims to be someone with a keen love for nature, and a keener love for preserving said nature as wall-mounted trophies. He leaves them with his ECHO contact so that they can check through his catalog of rare and legendary beasts, and also contact him in case they ever encounter said beasts and subsequently turn them into trophies.
Something that David notices is that no one seems to be this oft-mentioned “Lilith” that spooked him and Rebecca earlier in the day. He saw glimpses of her when she spoke, nothing concrete but enough to tell she wasn’t here. He flags Moxxi down for a drink - turns out there’s a lot you can do with rakk-ale aside from drinking it neat, and the buxom bartender is an expert in turning piss into gold. When the she passes him a glass of something called a “Gut Punch” (he half-expected someone to do just that once he finished the first one), he flags her to wait a second. Taking a gulp, he relishes the weirdly-pleasant burn of the drink. Then he asks her:
“So, I kinda expected we’d meet Lilith here. No one’s come up claiming to be the Commander of the Crimson Raiders yet, that by plan?”
Moxxi shakes her head. “Can’t say, sugar. Pandora’s the kind of place where you want to finish your work on time, lest bandits or the fauna complicate everything. She’s likely tying up wildly-wriggling loose ends, and that has held her up. But trust me -” Moxxi leans forward, closer to David’s rapidly-reddening face “-You’ll know it when she arrives. She has a certain… flare for cool entrances.”
The barstool next to David creaks, and the Edgerunner sees Rebecca planted on it with a barely-visible pout. “Yo Moxxi, mix me up one of those Blue Fairies you recommended, and make it strong.”
Moxxi giggles, then gets to mixing the drink with all the theatrics they’ve never seen from Claire, the Afterlife bartender. Rebecca elbows her friend, getting his attention back from the dancing mixologist. “So,” she says, “how you holdin’ up?”
David doesn’t expect that question, and he answers as such with a simple “Huh?”
“You know, how’s it sinking in? New apartment is usually a thing ya need a couple of days to get used to, but this is a whole new planet – f*ck, it’s a whole new galaxy. Ain’t barely anything but humans, guns, language, alcohol, and corpos that is the same as back home. We’re probably the only ones here who use “gonk”, “choom”, “SCOP”, any of that slang from Night City. Even the chrome’s completely different – I doubt people even know what Realskinn is, and I don’t know if it’s just that this planet’s sh*t to live on, or if it’s the case everywhere, but everything’s either retro or futuristic and-”
Rebecca is paused by the appearance of a tall glass filled with a slightly-sparkly light blue liquid. Moxxi gives her a smile, something… slightly gentler than the sultry curve her lips usually rested on. “Here, sugar. Made sure it’s the right balance of sweet, soft, and alcoholic to relax your nerves. Do make sure to breathe as well, okay? I’ll give you two some space.”
As if only now realizing she’d started rambling, Becca turns as blue in the face as the drink in front of her. Biting into the straw at the top of the glass, she sips it for a long moment to collect her thoughts. But then her thoughts are interrupted by the realization that holy sh*t this drink is good and she instead tries to place what kind of taste it is. Reminds her of RealFruit blueberries crushed into Ab-Synth, but not as herb-y as green alcohol was. It was weird.
“That taste good?” David speaks up from beside her, sipping on his own drink.
“Kinda like a fruity ab-synth. I like it, wanna try?” The Solo pushes her glass closer to David, who shrugs and passes her his own drink. Biting into the straw, he pulls a bit of the Blue Fairy, then goes wide-eyed. “Woah, that goes down smooth.”
Becca makes a sour face as she sips on David’s beverage. “Ugh, and yours feels like getting punched in the ovaries, what the hell?”
“Well it’s in the name – apparently it’s called a Gut Punch.”
“Sure fits it.” She pulls back her Blue Fairy, cleansing her palate of the bitter burn.
David down the rest of his Gut Punch, then sighs. “You know, Becks…” he start, then pauses until Becca looks at him again. “I don’t know if I’ve gotten used to it yet. Hell, I don’t think I had much of a chance to get used to the Edgerunner life – thangs were just always changin’. One day I’m a straight-A problem brat at a ‘Saka school, with my mom pushing herself hard enough to barely get four straight hours of sleep. Next thing I know, she’s bleeding out on the highway, then next thing I know she’s in a coma in the hospital. “She’ll make it”, I was told. Then she didn’t.” He stops here for a moment, just staring at the melting ice in his cup. “Then life just starts falling apart, I chip in the Sandy, get back at an asshole from school who was my biggest enemy at that time. After that, wander aimlessly and meet Lucy, almost get zero’ed like, 10 times in a 20 hour timeframe. Then I’m part of the gang. I learn, I work, I start getting friendly with y’all… then it all goes to sh*t in the span of a week.”
He doesn’t elaborate on what that meant. The arms he has chipped in are plenty explanation. Rebecca raises her glass, as if in a salute, then sips.
“I never got used to being a leader, either. I just did what felt right and made sense. Learned some things along the way, mostly copied Maine.”
Becca frowns. “Copied him right into becoming a chrome-jock.”
If he feels anything at the accusation, he doesn’t show it. “Guess I did. Point is, can’t say the whole feel of being on a different planet has registered that hard. Just another massive change in my life that’s happened in the last few months, ya know? Honestly how I feel about it right now. You seem to be taking it worse than me, if anything.”
The Solo takes another long sip from her drink and stays silent at first. David expects she’ll reply, so he doesn’t urge her to.
“…I always thought I was ready to die, ya know?”
He didn’t expect that for an answer. While he’s still caught off-guard, Becca finishes off the last half of her drink in one go, slams the glass on the counter and just lets the alcohol buzz push it all out.
“It’s the Solo end. We take a job and can’t finish it. We get into a firefight and ain’t the last one breathing. We make a gonk mistake because we’re too confident, too tired, or just because sh*t hit the fan and we were on the other side of it. That’s how bro died, that’s how Maine and Dorio flatlined. We bite off more than we can chew and choke. But I lived, again and again. Guess I got used to it, so when I zero’d… I realized I wasn’t ready at all. And just as I’d gotten used to it, I’m suddenly surrounded by gangoons lookin’ at me like I’m a whole roasted pig, in the middle of nowhere, Pandora. Even the familiar things are just… so different. Gunpowder doesn’t smell the same, alcohol tastes… I dunno, it’s like someone moved the taste a few inches to the left, it’s basically the same but not. And all that before I can even process what happened at Konpeki - I haven’t felt relaxed enough to actually take it in since there was the whole test thing, and just staring like a bennie at a nomad camp at everything that ain’t like Earth... You’re basically the only thing that’s stayed the same, and I was so f*cking happy to see you alive, but apparently sh*t here’s just as likely to bite your head off as Night City is, and… sh*t, choom- ” Becca turns herself fully towards David, frowning. He can tell it’s not so much at him as it is at the situation as a whole. “-I wanna make sure I ain’t gonna lose you for the umpteenth time, and this f*cking bitch that’s supposed to be our boss being f*ck-knows-where ain’t filling me with confi-”
Then they hear it. An explosion, coming somewhere in the distance. Their ECHOs, along with every other person’s device lights up, and from it they can hear the sounds of screaming.
“WE KNOW YOU’RE THERE, GRINDERS! THE HERETICS WHO KILLED THE BLESSED MEAL-MAKER, MINCEMEAT! WE SHALL HAVE OUR VENGEANCE, AND COOK YOU INTO A MEAL IN HIS MEMORY, ALONG WITH ALL THE HERETICS CELEBRATING YOU!”
Moxxi doesn’t answer, instead looking around the camp. “So… who are these bandits talking about? I’ve killed plenty of crazies in my time, so I can’t say I remember their names much.”
David sighs, then raises his hand. “Me and Becca flatlined a guy by that name. Part of the job that Mordie used to test us. We’ll take care of this, it’s basically clean-up.” He gets up off the bar stool, his Solo companion following him with a sudden soberness. They check weapons as they walk, swiping past the ammo vendor to do a quick top-up before they reach the entrance to Roland’s Rest.
They can see a mass of bodies running towards their location. Looks to be at least 50 people, mostly carrying buzz-axes at the front and guns in the back. David gets into Skagzilla, Rebecca following closely and jumping into the turret.
Mordecai’s voice pops out of the duo’s ECHOs. “I’ll let you have your moment, but I’ll also be keeping an eye on you from a perch. Go wild.”
David nods, then answers with a confident tone as he starts up the truck: “Never hurts to show off a bit more-” before getting interrupted by another voice.
“Maybe, but I need to show off too, ya know? Let me handle this one, killers.”
David and Becca recognize that voice. It’s the same one that spoke to them after they finished the job earlier.
Suddenly, a pillar of orange light appears in the middle of the raid party, followed immediately by an explosion that envelops the entire group. There is nothing but a few stray limbs left, and in the epicenter sits a figure, crouched down with massive wings of fire extending behind her. Her left arm is covered in tattoos glowing in a bright, burning orange. As she straightens up, the wings spread to the sides and dim, until they completely disappear and her tattoos stop glowing, turning a vibrant, barely-shining blue.
She looks to the two cyberpunks, then raises her ECHO. All the duo hear from their own devices is a single word:
“S’up?”
Lilith
Commander of the Crimson Raiders
The redhead starts approaching the duo in their car, twirling the device on a finger. The two get out, still stunned but doing something akin to a salute – neither had ever been in the army, so it was definitely sloppy.
“At ease, and ya don’t need to salute. Vault Hunters are outside the hierarchy, so don’t worry about being too uptight.”
Relaxing in their stance, the pair still stay silent. What were they supposed to say in this situation?
“Sheesh, you two look like you’re staring down a Rakk-hive. Relax!” She puts her arms around the duo’s shoulders, moving them back towards the party. “Remember what I said? You’re here to get welcomed officially into the Crimson Raiders. You probably had your introductions, but that’s no celebration!”
As they reach the top of the stairs, the people in uniforms salute (David and Rebecca take note of the proper form), to which Lilith just makes a gesture, causing them to drop the stance. “Moxxi! Pass me a bottle, will ya?” she calls out to the bartender, earning a bottle flying towards her. Catching it deftly out of the air, the Siren raises it into the air, causing everyone to go silent.
“Everyone, I’ve gathered you all today to welcome some of the first in a new generation of Vault Hunters.” She waves to David and Rebecca. “Pandora’s the kind of place that’s always been a magnet for dictators - first it was Atlas, General Knoxx, and the Vault of The Destroyer, who were stopped by myself and those on my side – Mordecai, Brick, Roland. Then came Handsome Jack and Hyperion, trying to take over Elpis first and then Pandora by waking up the Warrior. We lost important people in that war, but we also gained something irreplaceable – the Crimson Raiders, the resistance against the assholes who’d use this planet to fill their pockets and sate their psychotic bloodlust. If no one had stopped them, they would’ve turned this planet into even more of a hell than it already is.” The Firehawk receives nods of approval from the people present, most of them having been present during said events. “And now, it’s the Children of the Vault – mass-murdering cult psychos who came out of nowhere, uniting most of the bandit clans on Pandora into one massive tidal wave of an army. This is gonna be the biggest threat we’ve seen ever – bigger than Knoxx and Atlas, bigger than Jack and Hyperion. Pandora has billions of bandits, and they’ve got a reach even beyond this planet. We need every fighter willing to fight. And wouldn’t ya know it-” Lilith looks towards the cyberpunks “-we got some. They proved themselves prime badasses, vetted by one of the deadliest men I know. I’m proud to welcome David and Rebecca to the Crimson Raiders, as the first of the next generation of Vault Hunters!” She raises her beer for a toast, and everyone (sans the duo being talked about) follows suit.
“CHEERS!”
The two have to admit-
It feels nice to be celebrated like this.
