7: Evaluation

The Sun was hideously bright, burning his flesh even through the swathes of bandit-rags he'd dug out of the corner of his bunker.

It would be his home no longer. Like hell he trusted the man with the new face. He was a slippery one. Lies came as easily as breathing to people like him.

Ganam had fled as soon as the hum of the loader had vanished. He hadn't had much time, so he'd only taken a small bag containing the last of his dried rations and a handful of high grade Crystalisk shards he'd once taken as payment from some Atlas research jobsworth. He'd dug out his red-tinted dune goggles, designed to cut down the Sun glare on particularly harsh planet surfaces. They were old, the seals cracked. Sand blew in on the stormy gusts that threatened to turn The Dust into a blur of orange. It was already getting difficult to be sure of what direction he was heading in. Towards the Hodunks, he hoped. Towards the closest thing he had to friends in this place. They could help him. Provided they didn't take it upon themselves to kill him. Provided he even found them. He hadn't set a foot outside in about 3 years, content to hide beneath the dunes. Paid in food, water and solitude, it hadn't mattered to him. Now his sheltered life could cost him dearly.

The mechanic cursed, tapping the top secret prototype Dahl HUD he'd attached to the damaged goggles. Questionable bandit work may have been his bread and butter, almost literally, but the occasional off-the-record visit from unspecified corporate parties hadn't been a problem either. Their payment methods tended to be a little more… exotic.

The map flickered on the edge of his left eye's vision, refusing to stay still. It looked like he was heading North, and he hoped it was right. With the Sun directly overhead, the slightly buggy piece of kit that legally didn't exist was all he had to go on. For a man who distrusted these new-fangled electronic gizmos, it wasn't very reassuring.

He tried his best to keep optimistic, although it was hard to break the habit of a lifetime. Once he got off this rock, maybe he could find something better to do with his knowledge. Something less life threatening. A nice, anonymous research job somewhere they wouldn't ask too many questions. If he remembered rightly Eden-5 was supposed to have a big technology college, and their government was as corrupt as they came. An average looking man with enough cash to buy off the more astute members of planet population control should have no problem blending in. The belt pouch of Crystalisk shards bounced reassuringly against his thigh.

No problem at all. Just as long as he could-

He stopped in his tracks. Beyond the howl of the wind, Ganam heard something. A growling rumble, reassuringly mechanical. A technical.

He saw the shape of it fly over the barely visible dunes, swerving as one of its occupants pointed towards him with a shout. There were three of them, all uniformly male, wiry and wearing similar eye shield goggles to Ganam's own. As they approached, the man on the gun turret swung it towards the mechanic. Sand sprayed from the sharply breaking wheels.

"What you doin' out here, old man?"

The second passenger, a younger male wearing a red bandana and an assortment of bandages slammed his fists down on the dashboard. His face broke into a wide, excited smile that didn't speak of any great intellect.

"Shall we shoot him? I been wantin' to try out my new shotgun."

The driver stood up, taking one hand from the wheel to lift his goggles ever so slightly.

"Gun-man?" He squinted against the stinging sand, recognition entering his deep set eyes. "Hey, everybody, it's Gun-man!"

"Gah, prickerbushes. So no shootin' then?"

The driver cuffed his young companion on the head, hissing at him in a low tone.

"He's Gun-man, you idiot!"

While the two bandits bickered, Ganam racked his brain for something that could help him. That face was familiar. He'd met the driver before, done business with him. What was his name? He pulled back a little of his face covering, forcing himself to use his friendly business transaction smile.

"Well, if it isn't Kyle Hodunk. Scope repair and augmented corrosion... How's she holding up?"

He wasn't sure if bandits did pleasantries. Wasn't sure if anyone did anymore. It was a shot in the dark.

Kyle Hodunk reached down, bobbing as the engine thrummed beneath his feet, and produced a familiar piece-of-junk gun that had been given the Matronic treatment. He held it up, eye to said repaired scope, and levelled it.

Mercifully, he didn't shoot. He lowered it again, staring at it in a way Ganam had seen parents look at their offspring.

"Works like a charm. She's a beauty." He turned his attention back to the mechanic. "So whatchu doin' out here? I thought you was all loner-like."

Ganam wondered just how much he could trust these young bandits. About as far as a loader could spit most likely, considering it was a physical impossibility. But the turn of phrase reminded him of another all too present danger. He didn't have much choice.

"I need help. A lift. I need to leave The Dust."

The bandits looked at each other.

"Can't we just shoot him? I really wanna try-"

The boy got another cuff on the head.

"You always been good to us Hodunks, Gun-man. I'll take you back to camp then see who's goin' where. Hop on." Kyle sat back down, elbowing his passenger once more. "I ain't letting you shoot Gun-man. I didn't get that shotgun dolled up special only for you to kill the guy what made it!"

Ganam hobbled his way round the side of the technical, hoisting his protesting body up its side and into the back area designed for luggage. Whatever that normally was, he didn't want to know. It had a particularly metallic tang that stuck in the back of his throat and made him wince. The boy in front swung round to look at him, eyes wide beneath the goggles.

"You make guns?" He whispered reverently. "Are you like God?"

Ganam sighed, resigning himself to the bandit's company.

He was jostled awake as the technical swerved, undoubtedly caused by the incoherent shouting of the bandit on the turret.

"Holy macaroons! I ain't never seen anything like that!"

"What you seen, Kenny?"

"Can I shoot it?"

Ganam shook the lethargy from his head, taking the opportunity to look around. Blank dunes still blurred past. The sky had turned a shade of purple peculiar to nights after dust storms. It was almost beautiful.

What he caught sight of in the sky was anything but.

"It's some kinda angel outta Hell, man!" Kenny the turret man shrieked, aiming it up into the sky but holding back from firing. "It's come to rain death and despair on us all!"

"I don't care if it's your own mother taking flyin' lessons! If it gets too close, shoot the damn thing down!"

Kyle put his foot down. The technical engine sounded close to exploding. Ganam was thrown around as his bandit rescuer's driving technique tested the vehicle's suspension to its very limits.

"It's still coming!"

"Now can I-?"

"SHOOT IT! BRING IT DOWN!"

The air was filled with the steady crack of gunfire, sparks flying as the bullets ricocheted off of the great black thing that floated downwards out of another gargantuan leap. Ganam felt cold as he heard a familiar modulated voice.

"Increasing aggression."

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, cold spreading out across his body despite the warmth of the night air. His premonition had been correct: the faceless man would be the death of him.

Then the technical crested a high dune, landing awkwardly with enough force to fling Ganam from where he had hunkered down. As he flew through the air, he caught sight of the yellow and black loader leaping again, jets of fire bursting from its ungainly feet.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe it would disregard the bundle to rags and bones that had fallen from the vehicle. Sorry Kyle, but that's life. That's business.

He landed hard, rolling inside his own miniature sandstorm before coming to rest in a gully between two enormous dunes. Ganam groaned. He was definitely too old for all this excitement.

Before he could stand, a foot landed mere inches from his head. Although it wasn't a foot. It was a bent square of black metal welded to pneumatic piston-driven legs with a familiar brand name emblazoned on it in bright yellow letters. The madman in a yellow shirt, the gun he'd had so much fun using to inspire fear, they hadn't been lifestyle choices but clues.

"Hyperion bastard." Ganam hissed through cracked lips.

He curled up and waited to die.

"Activating phase shift."

A voice. A girl's voice, young and wavering a little but definitely there. The loader towering above him made a strange clanking noise as it inexplicably froze, glaring down at him with one foot lifted and ready to crush.

"Mission suc-succe-success-"

The tinny voice lowered as it ran out of steam. The light in its red eye flickered and went out.

Ganam shivered in the sand, barely able to breathe, let alone move. His HUD display crackled with static before clearing, and in front of his eyes was a young woman. She smiled at him.

"It's alright. I've shut him down for now. He'll start up again in two minutes and head to his drop point with clearance showing he's finished his assignment. I'd move away from his feet before then."

She sounded cool, calm, collected and so very, very young. A child's voice. It didn't match the face.

"Who are you? How did you-" Ganam broke into a fit of coughing, breathing in too much of the fine sand. His chest burned, and he was fairly sure he'd cracked a rib or two.

"It doesn't matter. I just... I didn't want you to..." She cleared her throat, erasing the emotional edge to her words. So professional. "I've been watching you, and I didn't want to see you get hurt."

"Saved by my very own guardian angel." He coughed again although he'd tried to laugh. Probably for the best, as it would have sounded borderline hysterical. "Thanks."

"Really, I'd move now. He's going to come back online in T -30."

"Oh. Right."

Shaking, Ganam rolled himself the right way up. A fire seemed to be burning up his left side, but the fear of the balancing loader kept the adrenaline going enough for him to start dragging himself away.

He'd made it half way up a dune by the time the whirring sound indicated the monstrous loader starting up. Ganam cast it a nervous look over his shoulder. It teetered for a moment before lowering its raised leg.

"-successful. Bandits eliminated."

It turned away, fire bursting from its feet as it launched itself into the air. Only the squared off indents from where it had landed proved it had ever been there, and even those were filling in with the steady creep of desert sand.

"See? You and your friends are safe for now."

"For now?"

"Mhmm. There's something..." The woman kept smiling despite the worry in her voice. Her expression and all her mannerisms just seemed to loop infinitely. "There's something big going to happen here. On Pandora. You should get as far away as possible."

"Well girly, that ain't going to be very far now is it?" Ganam fell back into sarcasm like it was comfortable body armour. Not very good against loaders mind, but against life it was invaluable. He probed his ribcage, wincing as his fingers found a little too much give in his bones. Damn, he should have kept some of the madman's Anshin for himself.

"Your friends have already doubled back to pick you up."

"How do you know all this?"

The girl's voice laughed a child's laugh.

"Easy. Eyes in the sky." Then all humour fled her face. "I gotta go. Work to do. Stay safe, Mr Matronic."

And then she was gone.

Ganam lay back in the sand and tried to breath. He had no idea what had just happened, but it seemed that fate had given him a second chance (although it was probably a few more down the line than 'second', but it was a figure of speech).

In the distance, a familiar engine roared.

"Gun-man? Gun-man, you out there?"

"I sees him! Over there!"

"Where'd that thing go? Did... Did he make it go away?"

"Haha, Gun-man is bad-ass."

"Woah. He really is like God…"

Ganam looked up to the sky. There were a hundred million twinkling, shining worlds out there. There had to be one better than this. He wasn't going to stick around to have his monster come for him again.

"I think it's about time I retired." He whispered to the stars.

.

.

A/N: Well, that's my first full length fan fiction in rather a long time, and first on this site. It's been a place for me to drop a whole load of my headcanon for Borderlands into, the coming up with of which kept me sane through many long bus journeys. Thank you to any readers out there for taking the time to do so. I hope you enjoyed it :)