Silence. A cylindrical void; a journey through incomprehensible data. I felt myself floating, or flying or something, but it wasn't really me; at least, it didn't feel that way. Then – light! The familiar, drab, sepia landscape appeared again in digital blocks, just as it had before. I exhaled slowly, inspecting my body for imperfections and running through complex formulas in my head to test mental capacity. Normal. Cuts and bruises gone, no blood, no scars. Clothing still damaged. Damn. So Hyperion could rebuild a human completely but when it came to some rips and blood stains, you're out of luck? Fascists.

Okay, trial two of mysterious immortality machine: successful. It was hard to believe that the secrets to life unending had been perfected by a freaking weapons manufacturer out in the boonies of the galaxy.

I pulled out my ECHO recorder and rubbed it as clean as I could with my right hand (my other hand only makes trails through the dust - some things even robotics can't fix). "Test," I spoke into the mic, surprised at how rough my throat had become. Mental note for water. "Test," the recorder played back. Good, that still worked. I wondered if it was still linked to my ECHOcast. Maybe. Was there even a signal out here?

Even if the recorder didn't broadcast, talking to no one had to be better than staring at rocks, dirt, and more rocks, right? And eventually I would run into some kind of town, and that town would have water.

Right?

Anyway. It was better to put as much distance between myself and the shuttle wreckage as possible. I clicked on the recorder and started out, sticking as close as I could to the rocky walls of the canyon. Canyon? Basin? Whatever.

"Hel-loo, subscribers! I can't see how many of you there are cuz my screen is slightly broken, so I'm gonna say thirty million. I've made it safely to Pandora! But, uh, I probably should've studied its geography a bit more because...uhh...okay, I'm lost. So lost. I think I'm in some kind of desert, but who the hell knows! It's Pandora. For all I know, this could be the whole damn planet. But I've already learned a valuable lesson!" I took a deep breath, pointlessly scanning the horizon again for civilization. But the same dark bit of landscape that looked like a town last time was still just a big goddamn rock. Actually, that could be the first rule of Pandora: even if it looks promising, it's a rock. No matter what you're looking for: rock.

"The lesson I learned is that you should not rummage through random boxes you find. Because they have money, and a bandit WILL shoot you in the face for twenty bucks. Sad truth, people. Value of a human life here is twenty bucks." I thought I heard the faint sound of engines revving in the distance, but couldn't be sure. "But at least I can't die! Pandora has these neat little immortality machines that just...build you back up again. I dunno how it works. Seems kinda like digistruction but with people. Hyperion science is very intriguing-" Okay, that really sounded like engines. I crouched behind a boulder, hoping its meager cover would be enough to hide me from whatever those engines were powering. Because it sounded big. Quickly, I whispered into the recorder, "I may be in legit danger here, subscribers, so I gotta go."

Three vehicles crested one of the many sand dunes; two smaller ones seemed to be escorting a larger one, and the small ones had really big guns mounted on them. And the people inside were definitely bandits. I ducked quickly behind the boulder, hoping that none of them had seen the speck of bright red against the brown land.

"Shit shit shit shit," I muttered, pulling a small pistol out of my belt. It was arguably the most puny gun ever; my dad had a bigger pistol on the sterile, crime-controlled Eden-5. I was doubtful of its power to deter the bandits, but it was better than nothing, right? Plus it had been free. Just laying around in one of those boxes you should definitely not be seen rummaging through. Apparently they either contained money or disappointing weaponry, but you can and will be shot in the face for it regardless.

The sound of engines grew closer and closer – and damn what was the likelihood that their stupid bandit route passed right by my hidey-rock – until it seemed like I could reach around the boulder and feel metal, but then they stopped. I started to curse my unholy luck until some of the bandits started yelling. Out of the corner of my eye, an even smaller vehicle roared over a sand dune, spitting machine gun fire at the bandits. They retaliated, forming a protective semi-circle around the big car and trying to get a lock on the attacker. But the little car was much faster than their bulky ones, and in no time their vehicles were reduced to scrap metal. The bandits themselves became little more than beef stew under its wheels. It was pretty impressive. Kinda like watching a slasher movie except you might be next.

Once all the bandits were dead, a sleek black figure jumped down from the fast car, and in my retarded curiosity I leaned too far out of cover to see what manner of badassery I had just witnessed. Its head turned almost imperceptibly, but I was mostly definitely sure I'd been seen. A guy like that, who'd just slain like ten bandits in the freaking Batmobile? Come on. There was no way I could hide from that. Plus my clothes were like super anti-camo for this place.

But after a few tense moments of waiting, nothing happened. Nobody appeared around my rock, no blazing guns, no death. I poked my head out cautiously, only to see the guy approaching the big car - the one the bandits were guarding. He vaulted onto the top of it and a chest I didn't even notice before opened up for him. I guess there was valuable stuff in it; glaring down at my janky ass pistol, I mentally reprimanded it for not being more awesome. But when I looked up, the mysterious man was gone, the chest empty.

Mild sense of foreboding. I was probably screwed. Before I could turn around, powerful arms clamped around my shoulders; a shining blade was poised at my throat. One rough hand covered my mouth. Again, pretty impressive. But definitely screwed.

"Bandit?" A low, angry, filtered-sounding voice prompted.

The hand momentarily left my mouth. I gasped for air, panicked, and really really meant to logically plead for my life, but instead all my mind gave me was absolute bullshit nonsense. "Hey! Uh, please don't kill me, I've already died once today and it really sucked! I can pay you! Er, that was a lie, but still-"

The hand clamped back over my mouth and the arms tightened. The filtered voice sounded again, strange and poetic,

"I will ask once more,

Since you look out of place here.

Are you a bandit?"

"N-No." The arms released me. I stepped away, rubbing the feeling back into my shoulders, and added as a confused afterthought, "Was that a...haiku?"

The man (I assumed it was a man) walked slowly around to face me, making sure to keep me within arm's length. He was wearing some sort of mask, completely black, so I couldn't tell if he was about to kill me. So I decided to hope for the best, even though he showed no sign of answering my question.

"Uhh...I'm Gaige." I extended my right hand for a friendly shake, but it just hung out there in the empty air. "I uh, I just got here. To Pandora, I mean."

He tilted his head to the side, and a digital red "?" appeared on his mask. He offered no words, just stood regarding me in silence. After a while, he slowly reached out and shook my hand briefly. "Zer0." I noticed that his hand had only four fingers.

"Weird name." I laughed nervously, rubbing palm sweat off on my skirt. "So I guess you're not gonna kill me, right? Hahaha..."

He grabbed my wrist and started walking back toward his vehicle. "They call me Zer0. We depart."

"You can speak normal sentences!" I blurted out, immediately regretful. Damn my near-Tourette's lack of verbal control! And why was that my first reaction to being kidnapped?

He paused and turned toward me. "Yes." He stated plainly, as if I were an imbecile to think otherwise, and started walking again. I let myself be dragged - hell, it was better than wandering through the desert.

"So, since I'm here, I thought I would try Vault hunting - I mean, I don't have any experience Vault hunting, and uh, heh, I've never seen a Vault Hunter, but-"

"Now you have." He hoisted me up into the gunner seat of the car – did he expect me to use that? – and hopped into the driver's seat. I tried to articulate my raging excitement (it was raging), but he put one finger to his mask for silence. "Bandit land."

We met no more resistance out in "bandit land" (I assume Zer0 killed all the resistance before we met) and I still had no idea where we were going, or even if I was safe at that point. He seemed nice enough, if a bit awkward, but I wasn't so sheltered that I didn't know how to recognize an assassin. They were hired by lots of galactic governments. Quiet, fast, efficient, disposable. I guess some of them were bound to end up on Pandora. And, even if it was a little bizarre, at least one of them decided to try Vault hunting. Which was, by most accounts, better than facing an execution at the hands of some tightwad government official who's lost his use for you.

"Hey, can I stop being quiet now? There aren't any bandits arou-"

"No."

I tapped my fingers impatiently on the turret. "I get the feeling you just don't want to talk to me."

He offered no response, but a bright red "..." flashed on his helmet.

"Okay, fine, so you're the silent type."

I heard him sigh; it sounded just as filtered as his regular voice, as if he were speaking through one of those joke voice changers.

"Silence can reveal

What is not commonly seen.

Please stop that tapping."

I fully prepared myself for louder tapping – robo-hand and everything, really all-out tapping – but the car stopped suddenly and I had to practically hug the turret to keep from falling. Pretty low on my physical trauma list for the day, but I really think he did it on purpose, which placed it pretty high on the emotional trauma list.

When I climbed down, Zer0 was typing something into a tall machine that looked almost like the immortality stations, but it had never occurred to me to use one like a terminal. He saw my confused look and grabbed my wrist again – and I think he was trying to be gentle, but it still had the whole kidnapper vibe. "Different. Travel." he paused, then added, "Causes nausea. Don't puke."