Borderlands: The Vault on Prime 7

[PS3rpchick]

Prime 7. From a technical view, the planet as a mother load of natural resources. It was as if all the most valuable raw materials were gathered to make this planet. Not only that, it was a titan size planet. One of the biggest known planets in the universe. There was only one problem... the planet itself. Nasty predators, poisonous areas, hard to maneuver terrain, and stories from the very few survivors about horrible monsters. Only a fool would would come to this planet, seeking a way to get riches or glory...

Enter the first 'fool', Mastiz Yowell. Wanted by several corporations, crime families, and basically anyone smart enough to figure out that her alien knowledge and experience with the Vaults were invaluable tools. She was the only alien on board the transport for Prime 7, hell one of the extremely few sentient aliens know to exist at all. She sported a Maliwan slag revolver on her right hip and a basic Tediore SMG on her back. On the transport, she technically weakest arsenal on board. But Mastiz had a dangerous feel to her. The kind of feeling you get from those who killed before without trouble. She was holding a wooden pendant that was hanging from her neck, a simple kind that was crude, misshapen, and obviously child made. It obviously had some meaning to the alien, but Mastiz had not spoken since getting on the transport. She had been left alone.

[guardj]

He pushed his hat up out off his forehead, and cast eyes around the transport vessel. Lots of crazies on board here. Not that he was worried about any of them. He pushed his hat back down, to keep even the dim light of the inside of the vessel out of his eys, and leaned back against a side wall, and closed his eyes briefly, breathing deep. This had been kind of a repeating pattern for most of the trip, as Dallas tried to balance his cautious need to watch his surroundings and guard his own back, with his very real lack of sleep for the past couple weeks.

The man was tall, that much was obvious even sitting down. Long legs stretched out in front of him, long arms crossed across his chest. And he wasn't exactly slight of frame, but no one would accuse him of being a military type either. That wide brimmed hat he kept pulled down over his eyes wasn't the only part of his outfit that looked out of place. The piece of body armor he wore, looked riddled with bullet holes of its own. Overall, he looked like something left over from a past age. The long coat he wore, no matter the weather, didn't serve well to hide the pair of guns at his hips. A rather small caliber maliwan autoloader on his left side, the yellowish orange markings indicating an explosive weapon, and a big revolver at his right side. The logo on it looked like the Jakobs logo, but the gun had obviously been modified very heavily as it couldn'te be readily identified. The two guns, coupled with what looked like a rifle case next to his seat, containing who knows what, and the lumpy, overstuffed duffelbag crammed under the seat, actually comprised most of what Dallas owned.

After a few minutes, he repeated his pattern of pushing his hat out of his eyes, and scanning the interiour. What seemed like casual glances though, were really a concentrated effort on his part to really guage the people in his vicinity. Each time his eyes swept the room, every person that crossed his vision, he memorized a different detail about them. Their size, shape, appearance, whether they were armed, with what, and most importantly, what kinds of things they were paying attention to. Never did good to let your guard down, but especially around other people who weren't letting theirs down. This time, his eyes lingered for longer than usual on the alien that sat on the opposite side of the transport. He hadn't ever seen anyone that wasn't human. He had heard stories, but it looked like there were going to be a lot of new experiences on this trip. Hell, he might even find out what was REALLY up with all these damn vaults.

[Jyscal]

Walking out of his cabin Alek stretched his shoulders and holstered his gleaming ATLAS assault rifle and incendiary shotgun on his back, after making sure he could pull them out easily he wandered into the main passenger waiting area. Casting his gaze around the room he saw a cautious cowboy taking glances glances around the room. Smirking to himself he walked deeper into the crowd, after pushing a trough a large group of scavengers he starts his search for the Alien vault expert. After finding the vault on Tantalus he started to search for someone to help him close it before someone opens the cave. After following a trail of destroyed and closed vaults he had finally caught up to her. Mastiz Yowell from what he had heard from the locals on various planets she was responsible for finding and opening them. If she could open them easily she could close them also, this was the line of thinking that had caused him to go to planets than he could care to remember. After spotting someone with extremely pale skin he makes his way towards her.

[Assallya]

Elizabett leaned against the bar aboard the transport bound for Prime 7. Really, Prime 7? It must have been named by a corporation. The name made no sense. "Prime" usually indicated the principle planet of a system, that which was most populous, like "Centauri Prime" or "Mandela Prime". Perhaps it meant that the corporation wished for the system to be the most important of all systems, the "Prime" system. It was the sort of twisted mentality that corporations possessed.

Downing the shot glass on the bar Elizabett enjoyed the smooth burning sensation of the liquid sliding down her throat. The wood panelling was a nice touch aboard what was essentially a train moving through the vastness of space. Sliding one gloved hand along the bar she examined the artificial wood. It even had a grain. How did they spin the polymer to gain that effect she pondered. A question to entertain her mind while awaiting the end of this abominably long journey.

"Another," she bade the robot at the bar, wishing that it were a human being. What was the point in a bartender that didn't engage in gossip?

[PS3rpchick]

Mastiz ignored Alec for the time being, acting as if he wasn't coming toward her. She was actually offering up prayers to her goddess. Prayers to finally find an untouched Vault. Ever since those Vault Hunters found those two Vaults on Pandora, other Vaults have been going off the grid. Mastiz had a few theories on the cause, but she had no evidence on the cause. So she made a dangerous wager and came to Prime 7. Her species didn't name this planet. Why name a place they'd never settle? It would be dangerous to go, but she had her own reasons for taking this risk. She NEEDED to find an untouched Vault and gain access to what was inside. It was very important.

Putting her pendant tucked within her bosom, Mastiz pulled out her slag gun and began her regular maintenance of it. Slag weapons tended to get gunked up and jammed a lot lore tan any other type of gun. On had to clean and clear up the barrel and slag injecters to keep the gun from suffering a pressure explosion due to hardened slag build up. Slag weapons were always like that, though Maliwan knew more than others so their design was less prone to this fault. However, this care let Mastiz pass the time. They'd be landing shortly. Of the ones getting off, the one using the heavy machinery was the most likely to die in Mastiz's mind. Getting intoxicated before going to a highly hostile planet... stupid.

[guardj]

His little threat scanning tactic picked something up on his next pass around. A big guy, wearing what looked like fatigues, purposefully showing off his weapons as he stepped into the main room. Bastard had been rich enough to afford a private cabin as it was, which already was enough to set Dallas' mind to questioning. What could someone with that much money be doing coming to a shithole world like P7? Just who was this guy? On and on, all in an instant. But those questions ground to a stop watching the guy openly brandish his weapons in the main room. Dallas' own hand instinctively dropped down to rest near the grip of his revolver, watching the guy check and cock his weapons. If he went to shoulder one of them in here, he'd find himself with a third eye hole. But he strapped them into rigs in his back and Dallas brought his own hand back up to rest across his chest again. The military type made his way pointedly across the room, seeming to deliberately approach the alien lady. And in response to his approach, she made a horrible tactical decision, to begin disassembling her weapon. He just shook his head. What kind of person responds to an approaching threat, which due to his past interactions with miltary types, was all he could classify the soldier walking across the rooom like he owned the place as, by disarming themself? Granted, that looked like a slag gun, so it was basically as functional taken apart as it was together anyway, so maybe she was just readying herself to throw various pieces at the guy, since that was the best way he could see to use one of those things as an actual ranged weapon. The damn things jammed up all the time, and fouled just when you needed them most. He only used any elemental weapon sparingly, the explosive gun he was carrying now being the first he had carried in a while. And even then, more because it had belonged to a friend, and he was taking some part of that person along on this crazy ride with him.

As of yet, he hadn't spent too much time studying the woman at the bar, but on his next quick scan of the room, his eyes settled on the fact that her weapons seemed larger than she should potentially be able to wield. She was dressed oddly innappropriately for a heavy combat situation, or so it seemed to him, but he had seen some different kind of things in his travels, and who was he to say she couldn't cause serious harm in a fancy dress. She did seem to be pretty sure of herself. He watched her order another shot of whatever it was she was drinking, and he sighed a little. It had been a while since he could relax his suspicious nature enough to have a drink in peace. Some people may have disapproved of alcohol, especially before the combat situation they were likely to be going into, but he got it. Sometimes the body's instincts can function better, if they're less restricted by the ramblings of the mind.

[Assallya]

That was odd, field stripping a weapon? Why not simply digistruct a fresh one? Unless of course her digi-pak was completely full. That was a distinct possibility. One could only store so many patterns in their pack before having to delete something to make room for another.

There was so decidedly nothing to do aboard an interplanetary transport and nobody with which to share discourse. To be expected really. The only sort that visited a world like Prime would be either ruffians, prospectors or scientists. The latter two only because there might be something on a vault world to study like deposits of eridium or eridium irradiated critters and the the former mainly to protect the latter people from killing one another.

For a short while Elizabett started playing the guessing game, determining who was a Vault Hunter, who was a scientist, bodyguard, mercenary, big game hunter, famer or some other settler but in short order the exercise became tiring. With a sigh Elizabett consulted her ECHO and perused some more material on this absolutely boorish, unscrupulous world in the hind end of space and transferred the data to the digistructor assembly units contained in her armatures. Within a brief moment she had a small book, an idiot's guide to Prime 7, detailing the most basic fauna and flora discovered so far. She'd read it before and, admittedly, she could have simply read it on her Echo but there was something to holding a book even if there actually was not a whit of pulp used in its construction. There was something to reading by natural light as opposed to a back lit screen.

[Jyscal]

With each step Alek became more sure that this was the person who he was looking for. When she pulled out her Corrosive shotgun it confirmed everything, He had heard some rumors from very talkative drunks on some of her most recent visited planets about her skill with that gun. Easing into a chair across from her he calmly put his hands on the table and started talking.

"Mastiz Yowell you may not know me but I have a business proposition for you, As you are wondering my name is Alek Cross I used to work at ATLAS but I have cut ties with them I discovered a vault on Thrace, when it opened I was unable to close it and had to seal off the cave. It collapsed half the mountain but there is no was for anything to get in or out so i can leave it alone for a while, I would like to know how you have closed so many vaults. Now I won't be expecting this for free I can help you find the vault on this planet if you agree to help me. I have more experience with vaults than the average merc and I have no reason to betray you so how about it?"

[PS3rpchick]

Mastiz kept doing her work on the gun, letting the military man speak without interuption. She had cleaned and put away her weapon before he finished. When she spoke, Mastiz had an accent. English was not the first human language she had learned. "I was under the assumption that you all would approach me about forming a group und I have prepared a satisfactory condition. Ya, I'll help you get to the Vault und upon our parting I will give you the way to fix your mistake. However, if you put me in unneeded danger or try to take my info by force, I'll take appropriate action und think of you as only an obstacle." Mastiz paused to let Alek figure out what she did to obstacles before standing and walking away to check on the transport's progress. She was anxious to get started.

[guardj]

He watched the interactions between the military type, and the alien. If nothing ele this little chat was the only thing happening on the transport at all. Shameless eavesdropping wasn't typically his style, but he was both still curious about the alien, and still suspicious of the military type. The only way he could keep himself entertained was to people watch, so, so be it then. He kept up his suspicious gazing about the room, but now whenever his eyes settled back on something after his scans, it was these two characters. The soldier type was pretty much exactly what he expected, typical all business an bluster. The alien lady, well, she was exactly what he didn't expect. For some reason, it amused him to no end that she had a West-Asian dialect. Russian particularly, or so he'd guess at her accent. To think she'd speak with an accent, he'd first imagine her own native language reflected in her secondary or tertiary languages. Not to see something like a secondary language and its speech patterns reflected so. They seemed to chum up pretty quickly, or at least they reached a business deal. Both of them basically laid out the same agreement to eachother. 'Do what I want or I'll kill you', was the deal they'd both set forth for eachother, which he supposed would work well so long as they both wanted the same thing.

He let his eyes scan back over to the other notable person in the room. The woman drinking at the bar, with all the steel coiled around her frame. She seemed to be doing the same thing he was doing, at least on and off. She was keeping the two in her sights as well. Note to remember for himself then, she wasn't as distracted as she seemed, by that book in her hand. He tried to make out the cover from here, but wasn't able to read print that small at this angle, from this distance.