For those who want more Timothy: A Story

STORY IS FINISHED! So here you go people, have one massive, giant text dump for those who want more story for Timothy!

   ** This surveillance footage is restricted use of the Hyperion corporation only.**


“Just hooold on- Theere we go! Perfect!” Jack spoke that as he
finally pulled that small blowtorch off of the little ‘canvas’ he was
working with. Tim’s screaming, shaking face. There wasn’t even any blood
left behind from the long wound he’d burned into the doppelganger. Just
a bright orange, crisped and deep gash of a mark that Jack thought of
as ‘art’ right now. And when he moved away, only then could Tim stop
screaming… To look up from the bed he was clipped down to. A surgical
bed, and that was never anything good.

Above him he saw the scar that Jack had chosen to cover up so long
ago. Only now he was wearing it… A mirror that hung above him to show
him the ‘work’ that was just burned into him forever. A perfect
depiction of the symbol of the Vaults. Wrapped up from one side of his
jaw, over his face and right back down through one eye. A perfect mirror
image of the original man who wore it. Only now instead of anger, it
only held sadness. Despair. A willingness to just die…

“GGhnUhn… HhAhu… Wwh-…Wwhy do you even have to do this? No one can even see your scar!”

“My GOD you never stop complaining! Y-Y’know the only reason I
haven’t killed you yet is because you’re my FIRST double right? That
makes you special. To me. I’m sentimental.” Where Tim was sobbing, and
barely able to make out a word, Jack spoke freely, happily and
sarcastically as always. Turning around from where he left. With two
things in hand as he approached the whimpering victim at his table.

Even with one eye now burned right through and unusable and the other
one nearly blinded from a rush of tears and pain, he knew exactly what
he could see the sick new CEO approaching him with. In one hand, a
medical stapler used usually only for the heaviest jobs. And in the
other?.. Another mask. A perfect little mask made to resemble Handsome
Jack himself perfectly down to the last pore in detail. A newfound burst
of energy had him tugging, struggling in his binds to the table.
“I-I-I-I don’t wanna have this job anymore! Can’t we just talk this
over? A severance package or something?!”

Begging and pleading was only met with a sick grin from Jack that
only showed pleasure in his work. Not even sadism. Just a pure joy in
what he did that had come to the surface long ago. Already leaning
forward, leaning overtop of Tim with tools already approaching his face.
“Think of the benefits, come on! Like being me!” Just a little laugh
was all that followed.

And the more black shadow that mask made, the more Tim struggled in
his seat. Until Jack suddenly seized him by the chin. That once
psychotic smile suddenly twisting into a true rage. Voice snapping out
loudly. “QUIT frickin’ squirming! You want me to screw this up and have
to do it again?!”

… Reluctantly, Tim held still. He shook, and bit his lips. But he
held still. Even as he felt the weight of that mask press down against
his face to settle in a newfound fear of claustrophobia. To see Jack
smile again, and feel the end of that industrial stapler press to the
side of his skull. Ready to seal that mask deep onto his skin.

And Jack just licked his lips as he focused. “That’s better! Now just… hold…”



Most of the Claptrap’s life had been particularly uneventful… He
was created halfway across the galaxy in a Hyperion factory as an
assistant steward bot. One of the unlucky ones to be shipped off to
Pandora. Where all he could see for miles, and miles were sand and
rocks. A constantly dry land. Both in its physicality, and in its life.
What few maniacs ever decided to live there were either just that -
maniacs- or trying to get by without giving anyone so much as a nod of
their head, lest they spend too much energy and collapse to
exhaustion… A cruel environment that only encouraged the growth of
rust between his joints. A smell that attracted the barren wastelands
most iconic creatures to use him as a chew toy whenever the chance
arose. That combined mix of an aged and bloody scent, with the sharp
sting of metal taste was perfect for Skags to come barking at Fyrestone
doors whenever they decided the day was good enough to play with their
food. And his code only forced him to hold his head up high and
optimistically through it all. Claptrap had been repaired so many times
in a row by people that didn’t care about him, that he probably wasn’t
even made of any of the original parts anymore. Just a few years into

But that wasn’t just his life. That was every Claptrap’s life who was
thrown down to this rotten hellhole in the bottom of the universe. But
this Claptrap?.. This one was special. This very office - Jack’s Office

  • was the place he was transformed from a meaningless, rage-inducing
    box of ‘hellos’ and ‘come visits’ to a machine with at least SOME
    purpose. To fight, to save people, to discover things, to make
    friends… Maybe that was just how he justified it inside his mind at
    first, but it gave him something to think about besides letting routine
    depression set in again… And the very same man who had transformed him
  • Jack himself - was here too! A person he once looked up to as his
    engineer, a genius code-worker and his new life-giver!

… But now, the little robot was going to die in that very same
room. Every other one of his brothers - his entire product line of
CL4P-TP were killed mercilessly. A single press of a button sent all
their mainframes fried until there was nothing left. Just doing what
they loved when suddenly everything went black, and they weren’t
thinking about anything anymore… But this Claptrap was spared that
same fate, to be given something more personal. More cruel. But at least
he wasn’t being killed by the same man.

He was going to be killed by Handsome Jack… Jack himself was long
gone now. Any shred of heroics or decency were thrown away the moment
that mask went onto him. And the psychotic CEO was just staring down at
the robot. With a wide grin on his face, and one arm lunged out towards
the robot from his desk. Iconic blaster latched to his wrist and ready
to go. Sure, wrist lasers looked cheesy. But as it was now, it was the
same as any other gun. But Jack wasn’t alone. Around him were all of
Claptrap’s ‘friends’. The people who berated, and ridiculed him…
Wilhelm and Nisha. They were just laughing and shouting, trying to
scream so loudly over eachother that they weren’t even comprehensible.
But they both sent the same message. Egging Jack on to do it… even
Aurelia - the woman who had never put a single ounce of care into her
adventure besides her own amusement - was just cackling off to the side.
Eager to finally see the source of her unending irritance be
obliterated! Athena? The cold, quiet mercenary?.. She was just that.
Not a single emotion to her face. She was always good at hiding that.

But what about Timothy? The OTHER Jack?.. Normally he was good at
keeping in character. Claptrap expected him to just be acting as a
second Jack now. As he always did. But in the doppelgangers face, he saw
utter confusion. Confliction… Was this finally the one time that
Claptrap couldn’t talk? When everything was crashing down around him,
and he was left just silently pleading for his life?


“AAAHAAaAaHAAhaAhhaa!! HAAhaOOooh OHoho God!.. OOhoohoho!..
PhOooo!” The moment the steward bot fizzled out of consciousness and hit
the floor in a dead CLUNK of metal, Handsome Jack was sent into a fit
of laughter right away. Joining Aurelia’s cackling voice, with Nisha and
Wilhelm not too far behind him. Those two even smacked eachother for
high fives just in celebration of getting rid of that irritating little
scrap waste! … And Jack? By now, he was bent over almost at the waist
just trying to catch his breath. On the verge of tears of joy. Wiping a
single finger up into the eye sockets of his mask to scrape away a few
tears that welled up from that great past time of murder. “OOohOooho…
wwwWow. SUPER glad I saved that for me! You know, I should do that more
often… Personal things. Feels… Cathartic. Feels good!” His voice was
as cheery and ‘friendly’ as ever. He almost never broke that.

But then Jack looked over at his body double. And his grin started to
falter. Just in the very, ever so slightest. Timothy was left just
staring at Claptrap with at first, a blank gaze… Then a little tilt
upwards of his brows as he let those thoughts sink in. A quirk of the
brows that spoke for sympathy and sadness. The Handsome one at first,
kept his cool. A single pat on Timothy’s shoulder sent the doppelganger
reeling back into reality with a terrified gasp. “Hey, kiddo!.. You
feelin’ alright?.. Come on, don’t look so down! This is a time for

Timothy’s mouth hung just slightly open, and his jaw could be seen
shuddering as he turned to stare Jack right down into his eyes.
Struggling for words to say. To push his emotions aside for now.
“UUh-YYeh… Yeeah! Go us, right? HAahah…Hah!” He didn’t want to say
much at all. He just wanted Jack to leave him alone. Forever. But his
minimalist, dishonest smile only made Jack’s smile go away entirely…
Sighing out from his own frowning lips, and dragging his hand back off
of the body-doubles shoulders, to cross arms at his chest. His face went
right from joyously happy, to condescending and serious. In an instant.
He was irritated. Just slightly.

“See, this is the problem with you being my body double right now. I
don’t believe you… I don’t feel like I’m looking in a mirror. Do-Do
you know what that means?.. It means you’re not doing your job.” Every
word he spoke made Timothy tense up further and further. Just nodding at
his boss with his teeth gritted in a weak, feeble little grind of the
whites. He tried to grunt, to start a few words. But all that the
doppelganger managed was to just mumble agreement to his superior. “…
You gotta work on your acting skills alright? You’re startin’ to slip.
Anyone who actually wants to get close to me’ll see right through you.”
On and on he taunted the paper-skinned Timothy… But then he subjected
his victim to a stare. He’d gone from serious, to a dooming glare. The
type of piercing eyes that seemed to shut off all the light in the room
to spotlight someone into that gaze. It was fear-striking enough to suck
the air out of Timothy’s lungs.

And again, he spoke. “… And if that’s going to be a problem, then
you’re not any use to me anymore.” His voice fell so quiet, and so
grumblingly low that it wasn’t echoing around that vast office anymore.
The acoustics couldn’t pick up his low tone… Not being any use didn’t
mean Timothy would finally be free of this miserable job. It’d mean he’d
be dead. He’d already learned that lesson many, many times. And once
more just a minute ago. Still he couldn’t talk… just gulping down his
throat. He would have looked away from those eyes ages ago if he wasn’t
scared of what they’d do if he couldn’t see them… Then Jack rose a
single hand. Not even a foots length of movement before Tim was jostled
out of his deer stare to finally speak back again.

“UUH-YEEs… Ss-Sirr… I-I understand… Ja- Handsome. Jack… Sir…
Ss-Sorry.” With that, he seemed to finally push Jack off, for now. The
CEO taking a step back to give the double a bit of room to breath his
own air for once. Arms still crossed his face still scowled in
displeasure. And even behind him, Nisha was just grinning sickly wide.
She’d have no problem taking Timothy out back and filling him full of
holes if she was told to. He was surrounded by things that would kill
him in a heartbeat.

And again, Jack spoke. “… Good.” He offered only one word. Before
he just sighed to himself, and retreated back to his desk, to his
favourite new chair. “Alright! Everybody dismissed! And someone get this
trash outta here before the sulfur fumes make my office smell like
ass!” Handsome Jack wasn’t new to low-brow humor. But even Timothy
couldn’t enjoy that now.

As he walked out of that office, trailing behind everyone else so
that he didn’t have to look anyone in the eyes, he was left only to his
own thoughts now… He wasn’t just a slave now, or a mindless dummy
target for some suit with fat pockets.

He was coming closer to the end of his life with every second he spent in Hyperion.




Timothy couldn’t believe the sign he saw fly by him. For the fifth
time since he’d started his big escape… He’d absolutely had enough of
this ‘job’. He’d had enough of everything. His entire life had been
spent as an anti-social, unappealing nerd with no goals and no one who
ever cared for him. He got the sick end of every single unfair straw of
like he could have pulled. And it only got worse when he just wanted
‘student loans’. He got sucked into becoming a puppet for the
up-and-coming worst psychopath the universe had yet to know… Here he
was trying to break free from that trap finally. What good timing for
all his plans to start as well. Jack was getting more and more furious
by the day. And Jack’s willingness to preserve his ‘original’ double
would soon become overtaken by his impatience with Timothy becoming more
and more disobedient.

And when Timothy was finally told to board a ship, and go massacre a
settlement that wasn’t giving into Hyperion, while Jack was too busy?
That was the fork in the road. He had to choose between accepting
becoming a monster, or risk his own life entirely just to break free
again and into a life of his OWN for once… But he wasn’t running into
this blindly. He’d been planning a grand escape for months. An
explosive, fast getaway. It was all he wanted… But now he was playing
the part of a hero. Before he dared try to leave Helios without Jack’s
knowledge he started to download EVERY confidential Hyperion file he
could into his own ECHO. With him wearing Jack’s face, his voice and
biosignature? It was easy to pilfer into the companies deepest, most
sensitive secrets and take them ALL for his escape.

But now it was seeming like the worst idea he could have ever had.
He’d been caught halfway through his data copying and that was the final
straw. Timothy’s escape had gone from a ‘quick, fast and silent’ plan
to one that was guns a-blazing. The entire station of Helios was sent
into absolute PANIC. People were screaming left and right. Scientists,
workers and citizens running rampant to get out of the way of the hordes
of armored Hyperion soldiers that ran through its halls as fast as they
could. The only things that drowned out the sound of shrieking,
terrified people and the sounds of metal war husks clunking around on
every solid surface was the sounds of the sirens and alarms wailing
through the air constantly. A constant, violently-red shine from every
light on Helios transformed every once-optimistic yellow shade of color
into a rage-inducing crimson shade that hurt the eyes.

So why did he even try to steal all that information for himself when
THIS was the result? When everyone on Helios was gunning for him?.. He
could have sworn he remembered ‘being a hero!’ and ‘needing leverage!’
but he’d be bashing his head off of a wall by now for such naive
thoughts. If he wasn’t so busy running. He was MILES away from where he
needed to be - the escape docks. It would be a trek straight THROUGH
heavy forces if he couldn’t cut them off fast enough… Everything was
looking dark. Bleak for him. And to only seal it in even further, one
more loud sound rang out. A voice over the echoing announcement systems

Jack’s voice.

“How have none of you have found him yet?! How do you lose a body
double in a freaking space station?! You need me to give you all
incentive? Whoever finds that ■■■■■■■ and puts a damn bullet through his
skull DOESN’T get their skin made into a bathroom rug!!”

He just needed to rest. GOD did he need to rest. He’d been left
unfound for the past ten minutes save for a few close scrapes of squads
of soldiers running past his hiding places. Tim scampered himself around
a corner, into a dark wall of a room where red shining lights just cast
only flickers of shadows over himself. And he fell against the wall.
Hand splayed against it, his forehead cracking into the steel out of
absolute frustration. His own sobbing voice struggling to even gasp in
for air through his strained lungs. The only thing that stopped the
fearful crying he made was the toy in his right hand. A thick,
beautifully-black pistol with a bright star on its bulbous, curved
sides. A Torgue pistol. The highest quality he could have found. Timothy
just dragged that pistol close to kiss it. It was insane to love a gun.
But it was the only kind of friend he had right now. And the smell of
explosive gunpowder on its barrel was far better than the smell of old
blood, and hair-burning acid that stained his clothes right now. From
soldiers, from robots, some of it was probably even his OWN blood. He
didn’t even know anymore.

Around he turned to drop his back to the wall again. Head reared
back, his eye turning right up to the ceiling just to stare and GROWL
out in frustration to himself through teeth gritted almost tight enough
to shatter. “God, DAMNIT what am I doing?!” He was thinking so many
things, every sense in his body was being overloaded and the only option
he even had was to break himself down further, and further. Hands
gripping into those locks of hair atop his head - locks that were dyed
to be dark. They’d long ago gone grey from stress and panic. And his
hands just ripped and tugged uselessly at them as if he could tear his
anger right out.

Again, Jack screamed over the speakers… He wasn’t even charming,
clever or charismatic anymore. When Jack was this angry, his voice and
its content was nearly feral. It was terrifying. Every word of it.

“I know you can hear me out there!! How hard was it to just take
another big freakin’ bag of money and do your job?! How hard was it to
just go down there, wipe out a pathetic little bandit town and plant a
flag, huh?! Well I hope, I HOPE you have LOTS of fun playing ‘hide and
seek’, cause when I find you, I’m gonna make an EXAMPLE out of you
ripping your ribs out with my bare god damn hands!”

‘Pathetic little bandit town’ of families and children that just
wanted to say no to Hyperion. And Jack would have had no problem killing
off every last one of them just cause of that small fact. THEY were the
bad guys, he was the holy savior of this new universe!

And here Timothy was, wearing his disgusting, demon face.

He muttered to himself. A throat-rumbling, boiling growl of words
that could barely even be legible as English, let alone well understood.
But they were cathartic. The same words he told himself every single
night when he looked in a mirror.

“I’m… not you, Jack!”

His hands were suddenly working by themselves. They dropped from his
hair, to suddenly bend his fingers and clutch his nails right into the
top of his mask. Digging hard against his skin, hissing random pains of
breath as he tried to claw underneath that fake veil just to get a grip.
The mask itself PEELED off from his skin from how long it had been
there. So tightly-bound to him that even in the slightest tug against
it, he could feel the staples at the sides of his face pulling at where
they were hooked into. But still his fingers kept going. Gripping with
his fingertips and thumbs, his hold constantly slipping off and smashing
the heels of his palms into his face with just how hard he was trying
to pull… But finally, he got his fingers in. Right up to almost the
knuckles. His palms braced against his anger-twisted brow, and his
thumbs digging hard enough into his temples to give himself a headache.

Then he pulled. He pulled VIOLENTLY down. The entire sides of his
skin coming with it as that mask finally started to pry away from him.
That second, fake brow peeling off of sensitive skin like prickling
needles. But the mask was easy… Pulling till he could feel it
plucking out of the dips of his eyebrow, and pushing his thumbs through
the eyesockets of the mask, squeezed in alongside his own face to form
FISTFUL grips against Jack’s plastic face. This was it. All he had to do
was PULL. And so he did. Again, and again and again. Those metal
latches in the sides of his face, he could feel them trying to scrape at
bone every time he moved. Slowly slicing through thin, sinewy strands
of muscle underneath his skin as he ripped at it so violently. His
entire head jerking back as his hands worked. And he was just snarling
and growling under his breath. Silencing every blinding pain he was
giving himself, drool seeping from his clenched jaw.

“GGhnHUUhh!! CCUHUU… CCoome OOoOON!!”

Then finally, the trickle of blood. Skin separating, peeling off of
his skin bit by bit. Red starting to pour down the cheeks, down the jaws
of both him and the mask. Just when he started to shriek, to fill the
room around him with his wailing voice, one of those staples finally
RIPPED free. Tearing with it a chunk of flesh that almost wrapped around
to the front of his skull. Mask left dangling from one side of his
face. It was working. Even if the anguish in his nerves was telling him
to drop unconscious right there, the taste of independence only spurred
him to clutch harder and pull again. The other side split off from
himself even easier, but it made him hiss, and yelp only louder,
dropping to his knees as the second bind came undone… Now only the
last one. Hands digging underneath the red-splotched mask to wrap right
around it like a handle, and rip it downwards violently. One long,
victorious pull of his fingers.

"GGHNnh… HHnRRhrr!!..HHrrRrA AAAAAaaHAAAuuh!

And then, the loudest noises he’d ever heard in his life. The sound
of that final staple suddenly scraping free from the grin in his jaw
bones, and pulling his skin right with it till it ripped like paper off
of him. He could feel his throat tug with it, and his tongue pull down
into his mouth even further before the mask was plucked free. And he
SCREAMED. Dropping that mask to the floor, and his entire body
collapsing to the ground in a writhing, kicking and arching display of

A scream of freedom.

He felt at his face… Who cared if it was in the shape of Jack’s. It
was HIS. The skin had long ago turned pale, and soft - almost wet - to
the touch from being sealed under that mask for so long. Sensitive to
even the tiniest scrape of his fingers. But he manhandled himself like
he would never be able to again. He could feel his OWN skin again! He
could feel the air brushing across him, the claustrophobic feeling of
his face being suffocated was FINALLY lifted off from him. It was
beautiful. His fingers even dug into the deep scar that wrapped over his
entire visage. Clutching into its curve, into its edges. The tissue was
still old, and hardened from recovery… It was here. Holding himself
for comfort as he cried, and bled onto the floor below that he could
share just a few moments of pure, blissful happiness with himself.
Mumbling incoherently.

“GGHnUuh… AAHuuhHhg… GGhAAuuh… HH’Ooh tthn… Thank god… Thank… god… It’s over.”

It wasn’t over, not by a longshot. But his slavery was over, and that
was all that mattered in the very second that he said that… When
hands finally left his face to free his vision again, he stared forward
at the mask dropped onto the floor. It’s hollow eyes just smiled back at
him. He didn’t even care. Timothy just picked up his gun, and scrambled
himself to his feet. One hand wiping the blood that tried to trickle
into his eyes, and his entire body took him forward again. Running once
more. Sure, he was still fighting for his life. But… he was smiling.
For the first time in years, he was genuinely smiling on that ugly,
despicable face of his. Running on to victory, or death. Live or die, it
didn’t matter anymore. He was free.

And when Jack finally found where Timothy had become Timothy again,
the Handsome Bastard reached down to clutch that mask into his own
fingers, and stare at it… Seething with anger. Never once in his life
was he speechless. But he couldn’t put this kind of betrayal to words.
All he could do was imagine how long he’d spend torturing and maiming
the doppelganger if he ever got his hands on him again…

“HHh’okay okay okay, just… Reroute that circuit into here, power
the whole thing on… Careful with the sparks…” He was mumbling and
shaking as he spoke to himself every step he had to perform. Sweating
constantly, and his fingers so clammy that he could barely even hold on
to what he was trying to wire together. Timothy was so close to escape.
He was AT the exit from Helios he could take - the escape ship decks.
But he couldn’t just take one of those ships for himself. It’d be
remotely commandeered by the space station in an instant. Timothy had
plans for someone to come and pick him up… But he couldn’t just sit
and hide and wait for them either. If he left those escape ships alone,
they’d be after him in a minute. For the past… who knew how long, he
wasn’t keeping track. And who cared. He’d armed a DOZEN of those ships
with enough explosive to blow a hole in them and make then uninhabitable
for the vacuum of space. But even now, on his thirteenth ship, he was
panicking and trying to remember every last step down to the details of
almost every dust particle.

If he had just decided to leave Helios quietly, he could have done
this part of the job much, much easier. Without anyone coming after him.
But of course, he had to be smart and set the entire area into
red-alert. He didn’t envy his pick-up driver who wouldn’t be expecting
this mess when they got here either… With a single hand reaching up,
he pushed his palm right up the length of his forehead, and ground it
across the front line of his hair. Sweeping those dusty, tangled locks
back and then wiping the sweat that slathered onto his hand just back
off onto his jeans. Finally pulling his hands off of the explosive
charge to just step back. Holding his hands forward still as if it might
fall off on its own. “…Okay, good! Next!”

With a quick turn of his body, he faced yet another ship. Only three
more to go. Then he could just hide and wait. As he ran for the next
target, his hand tapped down to the small, glowing pack that was
strapped to his thigh. Fingers wrapping around a piece of air that had
become solid, before a bright, shining blue light filled his hand bit by
bit. Another explosive kit digistructed into his hand. Already opening
its top, and skidding down to his knees before he even reached the next
ship! But the sudden sound of metal marching, and shouting voices
through the doors that lead into the docks sent him reeling all the way
over onto his side. Turning his head all around. Eyes going wide open at
the worst case scenario… Dozens. DOZENS of them were starting to
surround him from every perceivable side. All armed, and all gunning for
him. The moment the first bullets started flying, Timothy dropped that
charge down, to dance his fingers over to his left wrist. A quick flick
of his hand across the watch on his left arm. “Come on come on, back me

Just like that, he was supported. Quickly phasing into reality from
the ground up, were two near-identical clones of him surrounding him on
either side. Save for the computerized vibrations in their voice, the
constant flickers of light that occassionally twisted their forms to
betray their solid place in reality. And the colors they held. Both of
them were massively tall. Maybe eight feet high. And a blazing red in
color… Timothy wasn’t going to play with just his small-fry clones. It
didn’t matter how risky it was, he brought out both badasses right
away. He just went to work. Faster now than ever as his clones kept
their cool. Hands lifting to each and every enemy that dared come in
sight, and bursts of burning, exploding balls of lightning erupting from
the cannons affixed to THEIR wrists as well. While hundreds of bullets
flung towards Timothy, his digital doubles were busy trying to send back
an array of explosive light back to them tenfold. Even if they WOULD
fail. But he was done here, he started to run away. On to the next ship.

Good timing for him too. Enemies had already started closing in on
his position. Loaders and soldiers. Hyperion’s usual fair now. And just
as he was leaving his last set-up kit, both DigiJacks - no. They were
Digi-Tims now - simply smirked at their assailants. One of their cocky
voices ringing out into the air. “I’ve got looks that could kill!”


It rattled the entire docks. Both digital clones erupted into a
violent explosion that not only sent fire flying everywhere, and
engineers flinging miles back to where they started, but they set off
the bomb charge on that plane early. And even bigger explosion that
sent Timothy tumbling to the ground right in front of the next plane.
Whatever, that was fine, he’d work from here. Laying down flat, and
gripping another charge from the seemingly endless hammerspace that
technology offered him. But his eyes quickly caught on to what else that
explosion sent flying. The squealing, flaming husk of the escape ship
he was last at was sent flying far overhead. To crash into the very last
plane… And dragging it right off the docks with it. It would be
impossible to get now. Two birds killed with one stone.

“… Huh… bonus!”

But no time to celebrate now. A new pair of Tims constructed
themselves next to him, and he crawled back up to his knees. Halfway
through his work, now he shoved that charge back up against the hull of
his now LAST target. Just as he was starting to put in the last few
keystrokes to set off its timer, he looked to the ever-growing flood of
an ARMY that came after him.

Then he froze. He lost the air in his lungs, trying desperately to
gain it back when he couldn’t believe his eyes. Out of the crowd of
yellow that was forming towards him, he saw the LAST thing he wanted to
see. Handsome Jack. That angry face locked on to him instantly…
spurring newfound energy in Timothy to just keep going. Even when his
muscles were sore, and even when his lungs felt like they were trying to
strangle him from the inside. Because even if he overworked himself to
exhaustion and death, it would be NOTHING, compared to what Jack would
do to him.

Jack spoke regardless. He always wanted to talk and scream even when
it wasn’t neccessary. “There you are you insufferable little ■■■■■! Your
esophagus is gonna be my new bottle holder, you hear?!” Over all the
bullets, over all the explosions still surrounding him and the sounds of
heavy, thumping metal feet from every dozen robot that filled the air
around him, he could hear that voice. But he tried to ignore it. Just
for a few seconds. FINALLY, he was done planting that last bomb! And he
stood up, to face Jack again… Only for his last decision to deploy his
full-powered clones to backfire on him.

They both only spoke half a word before the digital friends he had
disintegrated into thin air. Leaving Timothy, ONLY Timothy left to face
the wrath of Hyperion. Staring down to the watch on his wrist. Charging.
Two percent.

Jack screamed at him again. This time with a sick little smile
joining his preemptively victorious words. “HAH! And to think I even
CONSIDERED giving you an upgrade package for those pieces of garbage!”

Timothy snarled as he turned to run from that monster. But he wasn’t
going down without a fight. Bullets focusing in on him as he ran.
Sending sparks flying off from the ground around him, and occassionally
bouncing right off from the sides of his head, and across his chest as
he scattered to save himself. Thank GOD he was wearing a shield to stop
them from coming through. His hand raising as he ran. That same Torgue
pistol he was holding dear to his heart earlier, was about to save him
again. The Unkempt Harold… Jack didn’t even give him enough money to
buy something like this.

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!!” It was a desperate plea as he fired. One
massive, brightly-shining bullet that plunged out of the tip of that
pistol, before it split into a half-dozen handful of smaller bullets to
scatter explosions EVERYWHERE in front of him. Blowing limbs off of
flesh and metal alike every single time he shot that weapon. And he
didn’t stop shooting till it was entirely empty. Buying himself maybe a
few SECONDS worth of time with the enemies he just put out of
commission. Behind an array of metal crates is where he dove to take his
safe haven. Reloading desperately fast, just to pluck his arm and his
head out to unleash another hail of explosive bullet fire again… But
that struggle could only go on for so long. As he sat back down into
cover once more, he just stared out at Pandora… At the emptiness of

“God DAMNIT, where is she?!” She was supposed to meet him right here!
Right now! His gun just wasn’t doing the trick now. He simply dropped
it back down to his hip to snap it into its holder. Raising both his
wrists to stare at the beam cannons affixed to them… A simple nod to
himself. These things were ready to go. With a scramble up to his feet,
he stood straight up from where he was, and both fists aimed forward…
Right for Jack, even if that handsome demon was so far away from him,
these beams would reach. The moment he fired, two massive arcs of pure
LIGHTNING started erupting from the cannons on his wrists. Sending
Handsome Jack diving to protect himself - as embarassing as it must have
been - and sending every single thing it touched into a twitching,
epileptic frenzy. Both hands splitting apart from eachother, whipping
and swinging those lasers to every single side independant of eachother
to push every foe back until the barrels were burning hot and they both
ran out of juice. Dropping down into cover, staring out into space
again… His most powerful options spent, and time seeming to finally
catch up with him… This was going to be it. He was going to just die
here. Never knowing how close-

But finally, he saw it. A bright blue, curvishly stylized ship that
WHIPPED around the side of Helios and made an absolute beeline for him.
It filled him with glee just to see that. His escape plan! It pulled
right up next to him, doors already open and Timothy clambering forward
to both feet to run up that open ramp as fast as he could. Bullet after
bullet still pinged off of his shield. Sending sparks flying off of his
cheeks, his arms and legs. But the shield was holding out, he was going
to get to the ship before they got to him!.. Till one BLAST of green
splattered across his entire left leg just as the ships hull closed.
“OOoh nonononono-”

His shield finally caved in just as he got inside. And the burn of
acid ate through his pants instantly to start singing away at the flesh
underneath. Flooring Timothy in an instant with him hissing and growling
to try and fight right through it, to let that strong liquid wear
itself out on him. A voice shouted out to him. A strong, but feminine
voice that was SHOCKED to see the state he was in, and the ruccus he

“Good LORD, what did you do?!”

He looked right up to see just who he wanted to see… blue, designer
coat with a plume of fur around the neck clung to her body. A swirl of
stylish dark hair with streaks of white, and strong defined facial
features that even Handsome Jack might fall jealous for. Aurelia
Hammerlock… one of his least likely allies.

"Just go! GO GO GO!!"

They made it… Barely, they couldn’t be considered SAFE. But they
made it… In front of them, all that they could see was the bright
surface of Pandora as they circled it in orbit. And behind them, the
Helios station was gradually dissapearing behind the planet itself till
it couldn’t be seen in the slightest. All its main escape ships
destroyed, and the little personal vehicle Aurelia and Timothy used was
too small to be shot out of orbit by any Hyperion tech that might have
still been down on Pandora. They were long gone for now, even Jack knew
it, and he was regrouping himself back on Helios. Furious… But he’d
give this betrayal its payback another day.

As for Timothy? He was shaking. Barely able to breath, the
occassional strike of lingering pain causing his air to catch for a
moment as he forced out a grunt. But he would be fine. Finally, he was
somewhere he could call ‘friendly’. Or at least as friendly as anything
had been for the past few years. Hell, the past his entire life. Almost
no one had ever decided to do him a favour. Here he was slumped into his
seat next to Aurelia, and just a couple feet back. Off to the side of
the main ship pit. While the Hammerlock sister manned the controls.
Keeping the ship stable. Ensuring that she could prepare for where
they’d go next. … Timothy finally stopped his heavy huffs of breath to
relax. The air around him absolutely dead silent save for the constant
rap of Aurelia’s fingers on her own computer screen. He broke it with
just a single, silent word.

“… Thanks.”

All she responded with was a simple little hum of her voice, before
one of her arms swung out from a pocket in her coat, and held it back to
the boy. Old, sturdy parchment paper with an absolute slew of unbroken
fine print all over it, with a single signature line at the bottom. Her
name already on it… And the pen he was expected to sign with was
clutched between her fingers… That’s right. This wasn’t some favor she
was doing for him. This was something they’d agreed on. He was supposed
to sign himself over to servitude. Why him, and why such a massive risk
just to get HIM?.. He had Jack’s face. With that man rising up to be
one of the most influential universal figures known to man, having
someone who was an exact clone of him would no doubt be useful…
Though, this was her thought process before Timothy decided to forego
the mask and bare his scar. Still, she’d come all this way, she would
work with it.

With a sigh on his breath, he snapped out a single hand to grab that
paper out from her fingers. Pen caught between his pointer and middle,
and dragging both items back into his seat. His free hand took the pen,
and then he just lounged his wrist across the arm of his chair. Other
wrist draped over its own resting place to hold that contract paper in
his lap. Upright for him to read, while Aurelia flew and prepared. …
But the fact that Timothy was already ‘damaged goods’ for his purpose
was making the rich woman shaky already. And now that he was spending
his time? Doing nothing at all?

Aurelia finally got curious enough to look back at the disfigured,
handsome double behind her. One brow raised as he just… stared to that
paper. Her regal, always-sharp voice ringing out loud enough to sound
over the gentle hum of engines around them. “What are you doing?”

“… I’m reading.”

That worried her. Lips cringed back, tensed against her own teeth for
a moment. “What is there to read? I saved your life out of my own spare
time, and you sign that contract! It is as simple as that!” There was a
clear sign of rising irritance in her voice. But Timothy finally wasn’t
reacting to that. Normally, he’d be pulling back away from an angry
person. Receding into a shell of fragile, weak defense mechanisms. But
he stayed stoic now… Still glaring across that paper. It took him a
few agonizingly long seconds to respond.

“… We’re negotiating. I’ve had one bad boss already. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

She couldn’t believe the nerve of him there. Turning her head almost
entirely around to stare at him, mouth hanging open in utter disbelief.
She even scoffed out at him! A heavy shock of her voice to exclamate
just how… displeased she was that he dared to be so disobedient. And
her voice was rising. Word by word she was getting louder. Till it began
to echo off of the plastic and metal walls around them. “We already
negotiated that I give you an escape, and you give me a signature! If
you’d like I can turn this whole ship around, and I’m sure they’d be
MORE than glad to take you right off my han-”

She stopped dead silent the instant she felt a hand - not Timothy’s -
grasp right around the top of her skull. Simultaneous to the touch of
cold steel that butted against the side of her temple. And just as she
was about to react, her vision seemed to shatter like glass for a
moment. Flickers of white light that danced across her entire body in an
almost skin-tight MAZE of the stuff. Her shield! It had just been
ripped from her! And Timothy still lay silent and statuesque in his
seat… Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see a rather familiar,
bright-blue glow filling her peripherals.

When her eyes turned to look to the glass reflection in front of her,
she confirmed what she thought had happened… Both of Tim’s personal,
digital clones were recharged and deployed without her noticing. One of
them was far off to her side, juggling her shield in his hand with a
bright smirk across that still masked face of his. A physical feature
Tim would take off later. But the second DigiJack was the one that was
holding onto her head. With the loud end of his wrist-strapped gun
planted right into the side of her cranium… Without her shield, a
single shot would kill her instantly. Send her splattered all across the
room… Timothy meant business this time.

After her voice calmed, she looked over to see Tim again… The hand
that held a pen was now armed as well. Was he using a Torgue pistol?
Lord, even if he MISSED her she’d be exploded into pieces in such a
small space. She was trapped with no options now but to listen to him.
But even now, when he had her at his mercy, he was still just reading
that contract. As if it… still interested him. Once more, Aurelia
spoke. Following a deep, shuddering sigh of her breath. “… You’ve
grown up quite a bit, haven’t you.”

“… You could say that.”

… Wow, that was starting to smell pretty good actually. Every
single time he shook the pan, a new waft of deep-cooked smells arose
from the broccolis, the chunks of beef, carrots… The whole works.
Timothy was particularly glad that he imported Venusian-grown onions.
Apparently the difference in atmosphere and gravity has a different
effect on certain vegetables that can grow there. Aurelia was already a
fan of anything that seemed like civilized food being pan-fried. She was
surprisingly decent to cook for. But she’d probably LOVE this tonight!
His free hand put that spatula down, and left the pan to sizzle for the
moment as he walked himself across the kitchen. Wandering towards the
steel door that opened to a massive walk-in-fridge and freezer. Perhaps
eggs? Maybe if he put all these ingredients together into some sort of
omelet as a side dish, he could roast up some heavier steak slabs with a
marination of barbecue sauce and spices on top as a main dish. Some
wine on the side… Yeah. That sounded nice.

Timothy had been spending the better part of the last couple years
now underneath Aurelia Hammerlock’s service. After agreeing to terms
that he felt his morals could withstand, he upheld his end of the
bargain to hand himself over to a reasonable servitude. By now he’d
learned to cook just the way she liked, helped her when she went out on a
shopping trip or went off to do it himself when she couldn’t. He’d
learned to dry clean expensive clothes properly, how to shine shoes.
Later into his work, he’d even learned how to properly be a masseuse for
her royal highness. And of course, he was a permanent bodyguard and
gunhand for her. He’d proven himself so capable that, even after
Handsome Jack’s death, when his face was no longer useful as a big
corporate bargaining tool, she kept him on board. It might seem like the
work of someone lower than a butler. Why would he agree to practical
slavery for himself when he had the upper hand, to escape for

On one hand, his morals just weren’t made for the likes of Pandora
and Elpis. After she agreed to save his life - even if he did alter MANY
terms of their contract - he felt he still owed her a heavy piece of
that life. And he was willing to uphold that bargain… But the truth of
the matter was that he was actually enjoying himself! It was satisfying
work to please, and be praised by someone that he started to look up to
in a way. Someone who didn’t treat him like a really useful
paperweight, and wasn’t a complete psychopath. He’d gotten quite good at
menial tasks… Besides. Where else would his life take him? As he was
now? His college education was just useless. He was legally dead as the
original Timothy anyway. Even if he did keep the name for himself. No
one would care about the degrees of a dead man. This work certainly came
with benefits anyway. Like a glorious, high-price living… And style!

Timothy had fallen into wearing much more regal clothing these days.
Finely-shining, well-fitted black shoes on his feet that cost more than
his first car. Dark brown, slightly rust-colored pants hanging from his
hips and a black belt. A long-sleeve shirt on his upper body that he
always kept the sleeves rolled up to three quarters. He quite liked that
style, buttoning it in place there. The shirt itself, often times it
was either just plain white or a very, VERY light color of coffee.
Nearly a beige in tone. Of course, he almost never went anywhere without
his vest. A tight-fitted, eye catching bright orange of color with
strong gold buttons to keep it locked on to him. Intricately designed
across every single inch of the garment… He’d chosen these firey, warm
colors to compliment the cooler, blue tones that lady Hammerlock often
took to.

… But his face. It was still technically Jack’s. With him forever
being an enemy of Hyperion, there was never any chance he’d get the
disarming codes to the bomb planted behind his face. It wasn’t part of
the data he’d stolen… Unfortunately. It was the same reason he could
never get his burned eye replaced and fixed. Facial surgery was just too
risky for Tim. It saddened him. That he’d never feel the admittedly
pudginess of his old cheeks, or the slight rough texture of his
freckles. But he’d get past it. There was one part of that face that
he… surprisingly never chose to cover. The massive scar that wrapped
up around his face. Permanently binding the symbol of the vaults in a
deep gouge in his skin. He could have chosen to cover it up with
make-up, sure. But he preferred to wear it… It was the one massive
thing that separated him from the most well-known look of Handsome Jack.
And Jack himself HATED that scar enough to cover it up with his own
ego. Timothy would gladly wear anything that Jack hated. Even if it was

Suddenly, just as he was cracking eggs on the side of the pan, the
watch on his right wrist gave off a telltale ring of sound to him.
Wiping his fingers off on a cloth before pushing the button, and
speaking out as he cooked away. “Hello?”

It was someone at the front gates of the manor. One of Aurelia’s…
many, many manors. But for now, this one. That watch of Tim’s was wired
right to the front entrance intercoms. And whoever it was spoke back to
him in as casual a voice as ever. “Got a package here for delivery?”

Tim didn’t take it entirely casual either though. He still had a duty
to perform, and a boss to protect. One he cared about now. Just as he
was sprinkling salts and herbs across the slowly-solidifying mix of egg
and stir fry, he questioned. “Who is it adressed to?”

“…Package says ‘Timothy’.”

“Last name?”

“… There… isn’t a name given. Uuuh…”

That sounded about right. Timothy never gave a last name on shipping
orders. It was one of his ways of chasing would-be troublemakers away.
If they just said ‘Timothy Hammerlock’ out of assumption, they’d be
rejected right at the door. With a few shakes of that pan, and his hands
setting the burners to a much lower temperature just to sizzle while he
was gone, Timothy stepped back with his hands wiping themselves off on a
cloth again. Exiting that kitchen, a couple hallways later and he found
the grand, expansive main lobby of the Hammerlock estate. “I’ll see you
out front.”

When finally he met his delivery man, the admittedly confused man
took rather… careful steps up towards the front door. Seeing a rather
serious-glaring man in front of a mansion was a bit intimidating enough.
But that scar - he’d never say anything about it - just sealed the
deepest feeling of worry. Still, he held out a box for the butler. Long,
thin and rectangular in shape. Almost as long as Tim was tall. The
doppelganger just took it with a smile and a nod of his head. Only a
small word of thanks muttered under his breath as he signed… With
package in hand, he turned right back around for the inside. Almost
running up the stairs. This package was for Aurelia directly. But she
didn’t know it was coming… He was excited! Oh, he almost forgot to rip
off the label too. Didn’t want her to know what it was too early!

Knock Knock Knock. “Madam?” His voice rang through the door
of Aurelia’s own personal working space. A much smaller room with
massive windows at her back, shelves of books lining the walls to her
left and right, and a desk that faced the windows. Keyboard constantly
clicking under her fingertips, and her eyes locked to a
brightly-glowing, laserlight display projected right above her desk.

“Come in.” She spoke out simply. To hear the door open wide behind
her, a few heavy footsteps close the distance, and then a single… tap
on her shoulder. With a turn of her head, the first thing she saw was
cardboard out of the corner of her eyes… Turning even further, till
she spun in her chair to face Timothy directly. The doppelganger smiling
dumbishly wide with a long box in both hands. Silently he offered it
forward for her to take. “…O-Ooh…” She just muttered those words as
she took it. Observing the box for a moment before plucking its staples,
its cardboard, ripping out its bubblewrap and peanuts… Till she found
the glory inside. A massive, long construct of gold-painted metal, with
wooden finishings. Handcarved and crafted down to its very last detail.
And before her hands were already reaching in to feel it, Timothy was
speaking again.

“It’s a Jakobs sniper rifle Madam. One of their most expensive, and high quality… A Skullmasher.”

She looked up to him at that name. “Skullmasher?” A quizzical little
hum given as she stared down to the bulky chunk of precise metal in her
lap. “… Isn’t that the one that acts more as a shotgun than a proper
sniper rifle?.. Acts a little sloppy for my tastes…”

But even when she criticized his gift, Timothy just grinned a crooked
smirk on his face. Hands now wrapping behind his back for the sake of
proper posture. “In all fairness, you haven’t left me much choice Madam.
What with you having bought almost every gun in the six galaxies.” His
polite little retort finally earned a smile from the lady herself… A
simple shrug from her was all she gave him. But it meant that he was
right. She was always rather stern about showing how much she ‘cared’
for something. But he tried anyway. Whilst she kept inspecting it, he
continued to speak. Catching her interest with every new detail. “But
it’s not a pure Jakobs. I’ve had it custom fitted with a DAHL brand
stock, and grip. Because I know you hate rifles that kick too much. It
even has an accessory to help give extra bullet velocity.”

He was particularly proud of the gift he’d gotten her. And she could
tell. He customized it right down to fit her tastes even. She never gave
him access to her money… He must have paid for it out of pocket even!
Finally, she gave up. And a wide smile cracked across her cheeks. One
hand resting underneath the barrel of the rifle, the other holding it
around the thinnest part of its stock. “… Well thank you Timothy.”

“Very welcome, Madam.”

Suddenly, she stood herself up, still inspecting her brand new
Skullmasher for a moment. Before handing it forward to him. “Would you
like to postpone supper for now, and take a trip to the firing range?”

He almost went wide-eyed when she offered that. His smile wavered for
a moment as pure surprise took him over. He expected good reception,
but this was exceptional! His hands rather cautiously took the rifle
now. His manners gave the slightest slip. “… Rr-really?.. M-M’lady?

“Of course.”

With her simply nodding to him as he took it, Timothy tried to stop
the little chuckle of joy from escaping his lips. But of course, he
couldn’t. It slipped juuust barely past the grasp of his teeth. Already
he was stepping backwards with a slight bow at the waist. “Gladly! I
shall put the dinner on hold and prepare the training targets Madam!”

They WERE making good progress… up until twenty minutes ago.
Whereas Timothy and Aurelia were quite sure they were closing in on a
Vault, so did two other people. Bullets had been flying everywhere,
random incomprehensible screams and orders echoing all around the little
maze they’d got themselves lost inside. And considering just how
confusing and winding these halls were? The claustrophobic, barely-lit
space they had to work with from wall to wall, twist and turn, door to
door? Every single time they ALMOST caught a glimpse of someone, it was
gone in the shadows already… Timothy was breathing rather heavy in a
panic. Labs just weren’t his thing. Actually, he was downright afraid of
them. The only thing that shocked him with more irrational fear than
that, was masks. Any mask. Halloween, surgery, ceremonial, regal… All
of them made him shake to his bones. For obvious reasons.

Thankfully he had Aurelia here to keep him stable in more ways than
one. She had his back when he was shaking and couldn’t think straight
about the last bullet that whipped past his head, and with her there for
him to try and protect in kind, he had SOMETHING to focus on. Just a
single thread for him to grasp onto for sanity sake.

The both of them were running towards the turn of another corner.
Aurelia in front of him, with Timothy running up behind her just a few
feet away. Handguns in his fingers - in such close proximity, he
preferred something small and versatile - and a constant heavy pant on
his breath… Aurelia herself took a sudden turn of her head to peer
behind Timothy. There was nothing behind them. She just jerked her head
around from hearing the sound of footsteps echoing all around them. Even
SHE was panicking now. The amount of times she’d seen her shield
shatter, and felt the repercussions of bullets barely whipping by her
bare skin as a result. It was fair as to why they were shaking… But
with the turn of her head, she didn’t see what Tim saw. The business end
of a shotgun lurching around the corner in front of them. Four, thin
barrels wrapped inside of a flawless casing of chrome and wood. A
Jakobs, a quad-barrelled mess… And this particular gun had a NASTY
trick up its sleeve. One that had Timothy reacting in an instant.

Without a word, he charged himself forward to tackle into the side of
his Madam the moment that shotgun fired. The explosive sound ringing
and echoing loud enough in the halls to hurt their ears. Timothy
barreling the Hammerlock queen right up against the wall as bullets
splattered off in almost every single direction. Riveting deep holes
into the concrete and metal all around them. The few pellets that DID
hit them were enough to only tickle both of their sheilds… But that
wasn’t what Tim was worried about. The moment all those bullets hit
something, they ricocheted back towards their targets with near PINPOINT
accuracy. If it weren’t for Tim’s quick reaction, Aurelia might have
been filled with holes from that fancy dance of projectiles… But his
save wasn’t perfect. One single, thick bullet had pierced through their
wily dodges and rippled right into Aurelia’s leg. Spilling a deep pool
of red that began to stain down her leg, and causing the woman to SCREAM
out into the air, dropping down to the ground in an instant.


“Madam!” He nearly fell right down with the woman, dropping to one
knee next to her and his hands clutched over the wound. He didn’t even
know what to do now. Everything had gone far too wrong for them to have
any proper escape now! He didn’t even have time to help either. The
moment he turned his head up, both of his eyes went wide open… And he
froze still in place. Only now could he feel the sweat of exhaustion and
fear rolling from his brow. He was glaring right down all four barrels
of the shotgun that had floored his lady. It took him a few moments to
peer past the gun itself to see its wielder… First, the metallic arm
that jutted out from her left shoulder. Following right into the black,
open sleeveless jacket that she wore on her upper body. A skirt and
stockings… God, was this some kind of schoolgirl? But beyond all of
that, the most memorable detail about her was that smirking face. Hidden
just underneath a bright red plume of pigtails. Goggles atop of her
head keeping her locks in place. Was Timothy just beat out by a

Aurelia wasn’t fully out of commission yet though. The instant she
saw her servant staring death down the face, she forced her jaw-shaking
pain away from herself just long enough to regrab the gun that had
fallen to the floor out of her hands… the same Skullmasher that
Timothy gave to her. Bracing its stock against her own hip, turning
herself over entirely onto her back. To keep its barrel pointed straight
up to the young, anarchist of a hunter. Shouting out to their enemy in
a… surprisingly furious tone. “Don’t you DARE!”

Another pair of speeding footsteps skidded to a stop behind Timothy.
Yet another gun joined the mess… An assault rifle with a rather thick
barrel, and a slathering of red paint across it. Decorated almost
personally with a decal of sharp shark teeth painted across its entire
body… That seemed familiar. It was pointed straight for Aurelia now.
Timothy couldn’t dare turn his head to see WHOM wielded it. He was till
staring at a shotgun. Aurelia though, she could turn her head down to
see who had her pinned now… He was handsome. But the usual, normal
kind. A little bit manly looking, rugged, clad in the outfit of a
soldier from his neck to his toes… In fact, nothing about him seemed
very exceptional from the outside. Even his short-cut hair was a
particularly bland shade of brown. Except for his brow… To one side of
his forehead, there seemed to be a marking imprinted on him. Aurelia
was no expert, but it seemed to be military… Sergeant maybe? If she
had to guess, the marking seemed to be made of some type of
flesh-friendly, silvery rubber.

But looks was for later… For now, they seemed pinned and doomed.
But Timothy always had one trump card up his sleeve. His fingers moved
very slyly. Almost without being seen. Thank god these two people had
chosen to come so close to them. Because they were in PERFECT proximity
for his clones… Bright, blue light shone through the entire hall in an
instant. Two more digitized versions of Timothy himself rising up from
the ground behind their assailants. Pointing wrist cannons at the backs
of both the schoolgirl, and the soldiers heads… He wouldn’t order them
to fire just yet though. Any sudden move, or even a bullet to the brain
might cause anyones hand to clench. Then he’d be dead anyway…

A few seconds of dead silence seemed to go on for hours until someone
finally broke it… The man with his rank stamped into his forehead. A
somewhat cheery, and grainy voice speaking out into the air. “… Now
listen. We’re aaaall after the same thing here, right?.. And none of us
here want to end up dead. In fact, we don’t want to have to kill you if
we don’t have to.”

Where he was being serious, the redhead across from him seemed to fit
her punkish looks very well. With a careless attitude. Even complete
with a roll of her eyes. A shrug even! Did she care? “Apparently we
gotta try and keep you guys alive and bring you with us. Some kinda
bullcrap like ‘war is coming’. EEuuuh-”

The man across from her was quick to speak again. “Gaige, can you
just… be quiet for a moment? Please, I’m begging you.” Gaige. The
schoolgirl had a name, alright. Gaige. Now all that Timothy needed was
the mans name, and maybe he’d stop shaking in his boots for a moment.
Aurelia?.. She was interested in talking. But after what spouted from
the redheads mouth, she was MORE than curious. Sounded almost like they
were about to be recruited back to be just plain old armed grunts. That
wasn’t for her! “What does she mean?” Aurelia’s voice was stern. She
meant business, and for good reason.

The man who held her down at gunpoint just sighed to himself. “… We
need all the Vault Hunters we can get, so we heard. Look… There’s a
lot of talking to be done here. So how about we all just put down the
guns for a second, and do THAT?”

… It took a long few minutes of each of them being very cautious.
None of them wanted to give up the advantage that they had. But
eventually, Timothy was the first to give in. He didn’t even want to…
his digital selves had finally run out of juice, and were put back on
recharge. Both clones dissapearing out of thin air. Aurelia followed
suit soon after. Just her having a gun wouldn’t do anything in the
slightest. So she finally put it down. Begrudgingly, but she did so.
Gradually swivelling herself up to sit against the wall, still holding
her leg. It wasn’t a mortal wound, but it hurt. The soldier lowered his
rifle too. A satisfied sigh on his breath… Then Timothy stood. And he
was shocked to see a barrel still pointed right for his face. Gaige
wasn’t giving in.

“… Gaige, put it down.”

She didn’t. Leaning herself over to one side to see past Timothy, to
the man who dared to give her orders. “Have you seen how familiar he

“… What do you mean?”

Gaige just turned her eyes back to Tim, only for the doppelganger to
keep staring right back into her own. Just frozen in place. IT took a
quick jab in the nose from her gun to break his focus. Shaking his head
after that. Cautiously turning himself around on his heels to face the
man who hadn’t yet seen him… The instant that they came face to face,
the still-unknown male had his eyes almost burst out of his skull.
Stepping back right onto his bad feet and shouting out in pure surprise.
“WHOAH whoah whoah! How in the hell-”

Before anything became nastier, Aurelia instantly tried to calm the
situation. Her voice snapping at the backpedalling commando from below.
“Before you try to accuse him of being who you think he is, he is just a
body double. And a retired one at that. So calm yourself!”

That only got more confused looks from the other male. Lifting a
single finger to point up to the man who still looked like Handsome Jack
down to every last detail. “Well tell him to take off the disguise at
least, why’s he still wearing it?!”

“He’s not a product of digistruction, he was transformed surgically.”

“… So, why hasn’t he had it reversed?”

On and on, they just kept talking. Questioning and snapping back at
eachother going absolutely nowhere. To the point where Timothy didn’t
even want to listen anymore… But he was paying attention to something
else. He was taking a closer look at the other mans assault rifle…
Such a massive belt of ammo pouring out of the side of it, with teeth
painted across every detail?.. It looked familiar. Uniquely so. Til
finally it hit him. The only company known for such massive magazine
sizes were S&S Munitions. But they were pushed out of Pandora a long
time ago when the bandits who lived there decided they could do the
same thing even better. That was the kind of rifle this man was holding.
A Pandoran-made rifle! To break their squandering, Timothy finally
spoke up again. His eyes turned down to the lady Hammerlock. “Madam?..
I’d like to talk to them myself if I may.”

She looked up at him rather quizically after that. But they were going nowhere fast. She’d bite. “… You are allowed.”

With a nod of thanks, he turned his head back to the soldier in front
of them. Asking the first and most obvious question. “What’s YOUR

“Axton.” He responded without hesitation. He had no problem disclosing his name. In fact, he expected it at this point.

“You’re Pandoran, aren’t you?”

The commando almost jerked his head back when that was spoken… How
this Handsome Jack clone deduced such a thing just by looking at him, he
was dumbfounded about for now. All he could do was respond. “…
Uuhhyeeeaah. Good… good eye.”

With just a simple nod, Timothy wanted to get one detail out of his
way. He was relaxing bit by bit. Even Gaige was staring to cool down as
well. Thank god that shotgun was pulling away from his head. Now he
could speak in ease. “… I’m sorry that Jack must not have been very
nice to the both of you. What with being Pandoran and Vault Hunters. As
for me, there’s some medically dangerous reasons why I can’t get rid of
my looks the way I am. I left his employment long before his death
however. Believe me. I didn’t endorse anything he did.”

That alone had Axton pouting out his bottom lip, joining a nod of his
head. He understood! “Aah that’s alright. Not like we were nice to him
anyway. Killed him pretty well.”

Both Aurelia and Tim snapped their focus the instant they heard that.
They both wanted to say something. To express incredible disbelief that
such a thing even happened. The doppelganger was the first person to do
so, though. He was on the ball today! “… You must understand, I don’t
believe you. Jack wasn’t a person you could just walk up to and shoot.”

Axton rolled his eyes after that. “Well alright, I didn’t actually do the KILLING part, but I helped take him down.”

“So who did kill him?”

“Don’t think you’d know her. If you didn’t know who I was, the-”

“Who?” He was getting a bit snappy suddenly… All Tim wanted was
facts to make him believe he was standing in front of the defeaters of
his nightmare. And god, did he want to believe!

“… Lilith? That ring a bell? Red hair, attitude. Special powers?”

It did. Timothy had met that very same Lilith. As did Aurelia… She
tried to kill Jack once already. It would make sense that she’d be the
one to finish the job later. If not only for her own sake. “Who else was

“Eehuh… I dunno. Brick?”

He was lost again. No point in chasing around names until he got one,
he wanted to cut the chase. “Just keep talking. Give me names. Lots of

Once again Axton rolled his eyes. But he did as he was told. Counting
rather lazily on his fingers as he listed off name after name. “Krieg,
Salvador, Maya, Mordecai, a Claptrap, Ze-”

“What was that last one?”

“… A Claptrap?”

“Impossible. All of them were killed when Jack was rising to power.
You have to give me something better than that.” Tim’s trust was
suddenly starting to waver. He’d been given a piece of information that
didn’t make sense anymore. Was this Axton character just… very well

“I don’t know, this one was fine!.. Apparentely he wasfound out in
the tundra. Guy named Hammerlock fixed him up when he found him.” Again.
Right back around to plausibility. Even Aurelia’s curiosity rose up a
little bit higher when that name itself was spoken. Timothy decided to
disect that answer a little further.

“What was his first name?”

Axton had nothing for that. He was about to mumble off his ignorance
to that knowledge… Before Gaige finally entered the conversation with a
name. “Alister!” That alone got her strange looks from both their
hostages and Axton as well. The latter one especially looked at her
strange. That wiped away the redheads smile in an instant, to make room
for a more embarassed expression. Hues of red falling into her cheeks.
And her voice nearly going entirely quiet. “… I… May have been
digging around in his personal information in a not creepy way.”

Alright. At least he had an answer. But one thing was still eating at
Tim. It was impossible, but… then again. Everything that had already
happened to him so far was impossible. So why not send out a fishing
reel? See if this one bites? “…What… color was that Claptrap?”


It matched. Was that unthinkable? Timothy was verging on believing
them both now. In fact, he did! All the perfect information lined up far
too well for him to just ignore it. But he wasn’t the one with the
final say. The doppelganger finally pulled his focus down to his lady
still sitting on the floor. His manners returned to him in an instant.
“Madam, does that sound plausible?”

She nodded her head in agreement. Even she was starting to waver over
to their story being true. Even if a little farfetched. “Alister is
particularily gifted with electronics repair. And that Claptrap WAS the
only one given a different and unique demise to him. If any of them were
to surface from their genocide, he would be the exception.”

Timothy nodded one more time. Putting himself at ease. That scarred
face turning back up to stare Axton down once more. All his tension and
stoic attitude was buried now. He wanted now more than ever to ask
questions. To hear a story. To maybe just get closure on the biggest
chapter of his life.

“You have me interested. Go on.”