Chapter Text
Rhys blinks long and slow, frozen moisture fractals forming on his lashes. He drifts, nothing below the soles of his skag-skin boots. Everything is silent, even the explosion billowing from one of the top limbs of Helios, fuelled by the recycled oxygen now pouring into the vacuum of space. Pieces of the satellite’s debris drifts past them. He just has to get close enough to re-connect to the echo-net. The hologram in his palm twitches the spasms of a dying interface. They’re just on the fringes of the grid, just twenty feet from not suffocating to death. Pandora looms to their right, as if setting on the horizon of their existence. Despite everything, Rhys honestly hadn’t expected it to end like this.
Half a month ago, Rhys had been on top of the world.
Rhys had a good feeling about today. Walking the walk had never been easier. His strides were long, his tie longer, his finger-guns quicker, and his game stronger. Rhys was higher than he’d been in weeks. High on ambition, and maybe a little on eridium. He had been working with the stuff for the past fortnight. He’d already outdrawn three of his co-workers this morning alone, and he hadn’t even clocked in yet. Rhys was drawing attention like he was drawing their aim, and he was killing it.
For two months he’d been the lowest he’d ever been. Even rock bottom wasn’t Hyperion’s lowest, and Rhys had been sure he’d have to claw his way up from the beginning all over again. The only reason Vasquez hadn’t demoted him to janitorial was because R&D still needed to produce results, something Vasquez had no experience with. Unfortunately, if there’s one thing Vasquez does excel at, it’s fucking people, because he’s a dick.
For two months, Rhys had handed off everything he’d created over to Vasquez, so the department head could ‘sign off’ on it. It had been standard procedure since before Henderson, but at least Henderson had let Rhys keep his name on the prototypes. For two months, Rhys had been letting Vasquez take the credit for his minor accomplishments, but that was all about to change. He'd created something exceptional, and he wasn't about to let Vasquez take credit for any part of it.
Rhys doesn’t even knock, just pushes straight through the doors. The cool darkness of the office seems less expensive now, as if it had been cheapened somehow. The scent of Vasquez’ new cologne is overpowering, but Rhys isn’t petty enough to comment, especially when it’s the same one he’s wanted to buy for months. Vasquez is in an echo-call trying for the twentieth time to rally together some sort of deal down on Pandora. He’d been trying to keep it from falling apart all month. He lowers his voice, and hastens to put the call on silent.
“Fake?! No, Hyperion isn’t interested. Well, if they're gone, so is your cut”. Rhys doesn’t appreciate this interruption slowing his roll, but accepts the opportunity to look superiorly bored. Rhys feigns examining his nails because he knows how it makes him look. He quickly switches hands when he realises that he’s been looking at the nail-less nubs of his robotic hand. Vasquez pulls his echo comm from his ear, holding it right up to his mouth to shout into it. “Listen, August. You can make like a gust of wind - and blow me!” Vasquez aggressively ends the echo-call. Rhys thinks that the man mouths something under his breath, before turning to Rhys with a rodent’s grin.
“Rhysie, baby”. Rhys clenches his jaw, before he can surrender to gnashing out something that unflatters them both. “What do you want?”
“It’s my latest project, finished it last night. Just need you to sign off on it”. Vasquez takes a seat in his chair. Leaning his elbows on the desk, and steepling his fingers. Rhys wants to tear off that pathetic gold pinkie.
“So? Send it to me, I’ll get to it later”.
“It’s been a week since the last project, we need to at least get it under pending”. The words scrape past Rhys’ teeth on the way out of his mouth. The project has no chance making it to production without the head of R&D’s signature.
“I said, I’ll get to it lay–tor”.
Vasquez stares at him silently, elbows on his desk, index fingers pressed to the thin crease of his pallid lips. Rhys stares back, fingers digging into his hips, as if to hold his own body from lunging forward. Vasquez narrows his eyes. Rhys raises an eyebrow. Vasquez blinks. Rhys’ metaphorical trigger finger itches.
Rhys brings up the files, and reluctantly sends them to Vasquez’ monitor. Before he hits send, he plucks one of the save files from the packet for safe keeping. Anyone who has half a brain would be able to see that there was something missing. Luckily, Vasquez’ skull was so full of hair plugs, there wasn’t much room left for grey matter.
“I’ve already had logistics and accounting run over it for cost of production,” Rhys lies. “With your signature, I can send it straight up to be approved by higher management”. Rhys hopes that the promise of a completed project coming from the department will be enough to convince Vasquez to sign it sooner. Vasquez only pretends to ignore him, and shoos Rhys away when his echo bleeps with another incoming call.
The office doors fall shut behind Rhys with a satisfying clunk, and in a sick parallel of his humiliation a few weeks ago, his bro is waiting for him on the other side.
“How’d it go?” Vaughn looks too nervous to truly pull off the reassuring smile he’s attempting. Rhys lets his shoulders hang for a second as he sighs, but picks himself up again. He just has to remember the work he’s put in. His good mood was still salvageable.
“As well as you’d expect. Vasquez wouldn’t sign the schematics now, because he’s a grade-A dong, but I think he’ll do it before tonight”. He lets that optimism soak into his chest, and he feels his mood lighten even further. He punches Vaughn’s shoulder lightly. “We’re moving on up, buddy. We had a little bit of a setback, but from here on out, it’s straight on up”.
“You designed the schematics, and wrote all the code. You’re going up”. Vaughn laughs, uncharacteristically morose. Rhys cuts that short immediately.
“Hey, who calculated cost of materials? Predicted profit margins, and revenue? Without you, this project wouldn’t have even gotten off the kitchen floor after it fell into the apartment drunk off its ass”. Rhys lays a heavy hand across his friend’s shoulders, squeezing him close briefly, as they walk to get lunch. Vaughn’s guilt and worry softens. “Together we can cut out four whole production departments. Forget the middlemen, once this gets approved by Vasquez and it’s in the system, we can both take it straight up to the tippy-top. To Handsome Jack himself”. Vaughn gives a not entirely mock shiver next to him.
“Can we settle for just taking it to the general board of directors?” Rhys laughs.
“Yeah man, okay. Straight up to the almost top”.
“Bro, When will you admit that your obsession with him is more than a crush?”
“Shut up, bro”.
A day passes without word from Vasquez. Rhys is just about to march to his office to pressure him to sign off on the project when a call comes through on his echo. He tries to ignore it twice, but it’s listed as a high priority, and it connects anyway. Rhys’ heart skips a beat when he sees the caller ID, and with a soft gasp he switches it to silent.
“Hello valued employee”. Handsome Jack’s pre-recorded voice plays straight into Rhys’ mind. “I demand your presence in my office at your earliest convenience. As your employment will be terminated if you do not arrive within the next five minutes, I suggest that now is a convenient time for you, mkay? Handsome Jack, out”. Rhys has had filthy dreams that begin like this.
He takes the express elevator to the CEO’s office, and fiddles with his appearance the entire ride. The elevator is more crowded than he’d expected it to be, but no one is paying attention to anyone else. Among them is a woman that Rhys is sure he’s seen around R&D. She’s reapplying a bright lip that’s the same red as the echo’s critical failure warning. She loosens her updo, letting a few curls hang loose around her face. She looks like she slept her way into middle management, but Rhys isn’t one to judge.
As they all push out of the elevator into the reception, they join even more. All up, there must be about eight people all waiting to see Handsome Jack. Rhys wonders if these others are in higher positions than himself. They don’t look it, but Rhys refrains from speaking to any of them, deciding to save all his schmoosing for the big boss.
He wonders if Vasquez seriously signed off on the proposal with so little cajoling, and spends long minutes fantasizing that his proposal has already caught the attention of the CEO. The designs were inspired, even if he is biased, but the best aspect of them hadn’t even been in the schematics that he’d submitted.
The pretty but emotionless receptionist continued to call people in. One by one, Rhys watched them pull open the large office doors, and step inside. After about half an hour of admittedly distracted patience, he notices something peculiar. A single one had yet to come back out.
“Rhys from Rn’D”. The receptionist calls, and Rhys swallows suddenly feeling a lot more nervous about this summons.
Even the receptionist seemed more heartless than a few minutes ago. He pulls up a holographic of his ID for her, but she only nods and gestures to the doors. They too, looked a lot more imposing. They were huge, and anticipating their weight, Rhys pulls sturdily on the handle. Forgetting his cybernetics.
The door swings open so fast, he almost knocks himself out. He quickly spins out of the way, and into the office. Freezing over the threshold. He grimaces at having already made a fool of himself. Rhys breathes deep, gathering his composure, and pulls the door softly closed behind him. The room is cool, dim, and silent at his back. When he turns, Rhys feels a vacuum spawn in his lungs, as his breath leaves them.
Backlit by the light of Pandora, is Handsome Jack. There is officially nothing, but a seeming lack of oxygen, between Rhys, and his obses– the man that he admires. Rhys feels the urge to fidget when the silence stretches, but it doesn’t feel right that he should speak first.
“Well?” Jack asks, sounding exasperated, but he continues before Rhys can respond. “Get over here”. Rhys startles a little, but manages to cross the office. Jack is leant up against his desk, arms crossed, studying his employee. “Rhys was it?” Rhys can only nod, because he’s choking on the fact that Handsome Jack just said his name. “You been busy, Rhys? Down in,” Jack looks down at a monitor on his desk. “Rn’D?” Remembering his project, and mustering his determination, Rhys finds his voice.
“Yes, if you’ve had time to read my latest proposal, then I’d like…” Jack cuts him off tutting, waving a hand in dismissal, and briefly closing his eyes.
“Says here, you haven’t submitted anything in two months, Rhys. What kind of name is Rhys?” Jack mutters the last part, and Rhys is too busy being awestruck to be offended.
“It must still be pending with my head of department. If,” Rhys chuckles nervously, and he hopes it might just come off as charming. “If not for my prototype, then why am I here?”
“I’m sooo glad you asked that, pumpkin”. Jack pushes off his desk, throwing an arm around Rhys’ shoulders. It felt menacing, it felt like a threat, it was sexy as hell. Jack guides him over to the large window at the back of his office, and for a moment neither says anything, just looking out at the planet below.
“It’s so big”. Rhys’ teeth click shut, trying to stop himself from sticking the rest of his foot in his mouth.
“It is,” Jack chuckles from beside him. “And, it’s all ours”. Rhys turns his head to gape at the CEO beside him. The man’s arm is still wrapped securely around Rhys’ shoulders, and Rhys thinks that he must have gone and brained himself on the door after all, because this couldn’t be real.
Jack speaks while looking down upon the planet with an expression of vague annoyance and disgust. “See, Pandora belongs to every Hyperion employee who pulls their weight, because that’s the only way that we’ll be able to take it from those bandits down there”. Rhys can’t look away from the man beside him, and Jack seems to notice, because he looks at the younger man and smirks. Rhys blushes. “You see Rhysie, I’ve noticed that you’ve been having a hard time lately".
"Yeah, hard," Rhys agrees, swallowing dryly as Jack moves to stand a little more behind him.
"Well, I’d like to take a little of the weight from your shoulders.” Jack begins firmly massaging both of said shoulders. One hand moving closer to Rhys’ neck to avoid his cybernetic arm. “I’d like to help make all your problems drift away…”
“Ah! I mean, thank you. That would be… uh”. Rhys swallows a noise when Jack’s warm hands find a knot in his muscles, and he tries not to melt. When he leans back into the touch, looking over his shoulder at the other man, Handsome Jack is smirking at him. It’s fulfilling so many of Rhys’ fantasies, but he doesn’t understand why he’d deserve this kind of attention if not for his prototype. Rhys looks down, no longer captivated by Jack or Pandora, and he only has a moment to register what it all means. Jack whispers in his ear, and it makes Rhys shiver.
“You see cupcake, you’re deadweight”. By the time Rhys sees that warning-red lipstick, contrasted by her pale lifeless skin, it’s too late. Handsome Jack is shoving him forward, and his body is caught by the pull of air that’s sucked through the sudden break in the glass. Jack’s laughter barely heard over the whoosh of oxygen being sucked into the vacuum with him.
In retrospect, Rhys didn’t have such a good feeling about today.