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Best Diesel Truck Mechanic Services and Cost in Omaha NE | Mobile Mechanics of Omaha

More information is at: http://24hourautotruckrepairomaha.org/diesel-truck-mechanic-near-me/

Diesel Truck Mechanic Services and Cost in Omaha NE: Are you looking for Diesel Truck Mechanic services near Omaha NE? Mobile Mechanics of Omaha, works on all sizes and classes of trucks and trailers plus diggers, loaders, bulldozers, large motorhomes, horse floats and farm equipment. Cost? Free estimates! Send us a message or call us today. Best Diesel Truck Mechanic Services around Omaha NE. We serve Omaha NE and other areas. Get a Free Quote Now!

DIESEL TRUCK MECHANIC SERVICES IN OMAHA NE

OMAHA DIESEL TRUCK MECHANIC

Bring your heavy duty diesel vehicles to the truck mechanics

Diesel Truck Mechanic Services and Cost in Omaha NE: Need repairs now? Is your fleet due for servicing? Engine had it? Bring your vehicle or machinery to Mobile Mechanics of Omaha- the only diesel-exclusive mechanic in Omaha NE

The heavy duty diesel mechanic at Mobile Mechanics of Omaha works on all sizes and classes of trucks and trailers plus diggers, loaders, bulldozers, large motorhomes, horse floats and farm equipment.

All work is carried out in our purpose-built workshop but if you're stuck and need a tow, Mobile Mechanics of Omaha will organize a pick up for you. Your one stop shop for diesel mechanical services and engine reconditioning

Like any good mechanic workshop, Mobile Mechanics of Omaha are well equipped to carry out:

● full fleet servicing of diesel vehicles and heavy machinery

● total rebuilds and reconditioning of any type of diesel engine

● diagnostic tests on all computer automated control units using an advanced scan tool called Joltiest

● Certificate of Fitness (COF) checks, repairs and sign off.

Instead of pits, all heavy duty trucks are hoisted using hydraulic column lifters. Any new or specialty parts not available on-site are ordered and installed, with your prior consent.

Need specific welds or joints engineered? Mobile Mechanics of Omaha certified welder can take care of your engineering needs including welding and steel fabrication.

Full diesel mechanical servicing

Diesel Truck Mechanic Services and Cost in Omaha NE: All diesel machinery booked in receives a thorough service with additional checks and tests given to vehicles with high kms on the odometer.

The same standard applies when you book in your single vehicle or fleet for an on-site service. Our mobile mechanics specialize in brake disc and brake drum machining and will travel throughout Waikato to complete brake repairs.

Service tier A

● Grease vehicle and check drive line.

● Jack up front axle(s). Check wheel bearings and grease kingpins.

● Check all shackles, pins and bushes.

● Take weight off rear suspension trunnion and grease.

● Check rear suspension for wear.

● General chassis check and brake adjustment if necessary.

● Check all fluid levels - including all potential oil leaks.

● Check the condition of all springs and report.

● Check and adjust clutch if necessary. Lube bearings and cross shaft.

● Check the fan belt, make necessary adjustments and conditions.

● Check all coolant hoses and radiator conditions.

● Check the air cleaner restriction indicator.

● Check fuel water separator and drain if required.

● Check battery water level and terminal condition.

● Check all lights, electrical fittings and wipers.

● Check tires for damage, wear, and match.

● Check brakes, make any adjustments and fix all leaks in brake hoses.

Service tier B

Everything in A service, plus:

● Change engine oil and filters.

● Change all fuel filters.

● Remove all fuel water separator and clean filter gauze.

● Check all belt tensions, adjust spring and bearing.

● Check idler pulley bearings where fitted.

● Check radiator additive level and record reading percentage.

● Check the air induction system.

Service tier C (mandatory every 100,000 km)

Everything in B service plus:

● Change gearbox oil and filter.

● Change diff oils and filter.

● Retorque manifold bolts.

● Change power steering oil and filter.

● Dismantle and service air drier if fitted.

● Replace air cleaner elements as required.

● Carry out top tune.

● Change coolant.

Has an error code reading stopped all movement? Run a diagnostic test with Mobile Mechanics of Omaha and get back on the road or farm in no time

Fast diagnosis is the key to getting your machinery in working order again. Mobile Mechanics of Omaha has invested in Joltiest for this job - an advanced technology electronic diagnostic scan tool that connects easily to all heavy duty, registered, diesel vehicles including trucks, motorhomes, trailers, vans, agricultural and special vehicles.

The system quickly and efficiently troubleshoot faults, describing them in full detail. It also guides needed repairs, identifies additional parts required and produces in-depth reports for your business compliance needs.

With Mobile Mechanics of Omaha service's skilled diesel mechanics on task, your vehicle/s will be back on the road performing in top condition before you know it.

TIPS

Diesel Truck Mechanic Services and Cost in Omaha NE: When it comes to proper maintenance of your work trucks, it’s important to hire a reliable & reputable commercial truck repair shop that offers high quality service. Choosing the right service provider is not easy, especially with so many service providers competing in the marketplace.

Here are some important tips to keep in mind when looking for a commercial truck Mechanic:

● Industry Experience

Experience in commercial truck repair is the most essential requirement. Inexperienced providers could result in delays and mistakes that could cost more in the long run. You should search for a service provider that has experience with different manufacturers and has experience with additional accessory improvements that could benefit your business.

● Wide Array of Repair Services & Parts Inventory

Find a service provider that offers numerous types of service and repairs so you can get all your maintenance done in one place. This will help you save time and get your vehicle operational as soon as possible. Make sure that you choose a shop that carries a selection of parts for different kinds of trucks. You don’t want to wait for weeks for your parts to arrive because the shop had to special order them from a different supplier on what would normally be commonly used repair parts.

● Accessible Location

Make sure that the repair shop you choose has an accessible and convenient location and is within a reasonable proximity to your office or warehouse. This will help manage delays and costs in transporting your truck to the shop.

● Good Track Record

Always ask for reviews and referrals from other companies that drive commercial trucks and find out which service providers they frequently visit and trust. If you want to find out more information, check out the reviews for the company online.

Your trucks are an essential part of your business. Maintenance and repair issues should be addressed promptly to avoid a small problem becoming a larger, more expensive problem. Always find the best quality mechanics that you can trust and work with a professional commercial truck repair shop.

COST

Diesel Truck Mechanic Services and Cost in Omaha NE: Our mobile diesel truck mechanics charge as low as $40-60 per hour plus parts. Most independent repair shops charge between $70-$90 per hour and most dealerships charge between $80-$125 per hour. If you find a good mobile mechanic repair shop that you can trust to do great work and give you excellent service, then be happy to pay them their rate and invite them or take your cars to them whenever you need them serviced.

Looking for mobile mechanic pricing? Your Omaha NE mobile mechanic charges only the base cost of parts, plus our flat rate $30-60 per hour labor fee.

There are several main factors that determine labor rates. Dealerships are generally more expensive than independent repair shops. One of the main reasons is because consumers see them as being more qualified to work on their cars. In some cases this might be true, but in some cases it isn't. Dealerships generally have brand specific diagnostic tools that are very expensive and this adds to their labor cost as well.

Another determining factor for labor rates is where the shop is located in Omaha NE. Where it is located in the city and which city it is located in both play a role. If it is in the middle of town where building lease rates are high the labor rate will probably be higher. If they are located in a small town they will usually have lower labor rates. Some cities have higher rates than other similarly sized cities.

As far as a reasonable rate, there are also several factors to consider here as well. The main thing to think about is are you getting good service and quality work done on your car? If the answer is yes, then you should be willing to pay a premium for that since it is so hard to find.

Most independent repair shops charge between $80-$90 per hour and most dealerships charge between $80-$125 per hour.

Get Peace Of Mind With Our Easy To Understand, Transparent Quotes.

Diesel Truck Mechanic Services and Cost in Omaha NE:Getting an instant price is just a few clicks away. Simply provide your car make and model, desired service, your location and we’ll provide you with a fair, transparent quote before you schedule your service.

Our easy to understand quotes show the detailed cost of labor, parts, and taxes (if any). You'll know exactly what's included in your service so there are no surprises.

You're always in control. If your mechanic discovers that your car doesn't need all the services you requested, we'll remove those services and lower your bill, right on the spot. If your car needs additional repair services, your mechanic will provide you with an itemized list of what you need. You can always decide to add or decline any additional services.

Low Overhead Means Savings For You.

Our mechanics are mobile. Not only do we have significantly lower overhead costs compared to the local shops, but as a national brand, we are able to negotiate better prices from the auto parts vendors. We pass these savings to you! The bigger the job, the more you save.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

What is a Diesel Truck Mechanic?

Diesel Truck Mechanic is the new way to get your vehicle repaired at home, on the side of the road, at your office or anywhere else. Instead you take your car, truck or van to an auto shop. They come to you.

Do Diesel Truck Mechanics Charge a Fee to come you?

Depending on the Diesel Truck Mechanic service, sometime if they come and tell you what is wrong with your automobile and you let them do the repair. They might waive the fee for you or the best way to find out is Click here and just ask them.

Can a Diesel Truck Mechanic Service Fix My Automobile Anywhere?

Yes, a Diesel Truck Mechanic service can repair your car, truck or van anywhere, at your house or home while watching them doing their work or you could be doing whatever you please while they are working in your vehicle, at your job while you are working, at your office while you are taking care of your business or on the side of the road.

Do I Buy My Parts or the Diesel Truck Mechanic brings their parts?

Majority of the time you purchase your own part so you can keep your parts warranty or you could let them buy the parts for you. If you think it is going to be cheaper, if they use their commercial account they have with auto parts stores.

What is the method of payment for Diesel Truck Mechanic Service?

All mobile mechanic services prefer cash as their method of payment while some of them will take a credit card or check as a payment and others will not take them. Go to https://www.carhelpout.com/location/ and ask them right of front.

Can Diesel Truck Mechanic Service complete larger repair work on site?

Professional Diesel Truck Mechanic Vans or Truck are fully equipped workshops so we can conduct most repairs on site. For select larger jobs we may take vehicles to a partner workshop, but we’ll do the running around for you at no extra charge so you can get on with your day.

Can a Diesel Truck Mechanic service fix any types of vehicles?

No, some Diesel Truck Mechanics can only work on gasoline vehicles while others can work on both gasoline and diesel automobiles.

Can Diesel Truck Mechanic Service repair my motorbike, scooter, or commercial vehicle?

Yes and No. Some others may not. All you have to do is ask. Even do the odd tractor, caravan and trailer.

Do Diesel Truck Mechanic services provide guarantee for their work?

Most of them do give guarantee for the mechanic work they do on their parts they install or replace.

What is the open hour of Diesel Truck Mechanic Service?

Most Diesel Truck Mechanics are open as early as 6 AM to 10 PM depending on the location and auto part store hours while some of them operate 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The simple way to find out is to find your mobile mechanics service at your location and give them a quick call and ask.

Do Diesel Truck Mechanic Service Work on the weekend and Holidays?

Some Diesel Truck Mechanic work on the week and holidays, while some of them only work on the weekdays; the best way to find out is to call and ask.

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BEST DIESEL TRUCK MECHANIC SERVICES IN OMAHA NE

MOBILE MECHANICS OF OMAHA

REQUEST MORE INFORMATION. CONTACT US NOW!

Mobile Mechanics of Omaha

24-hour mobile mechanic roadside assistance services in Omaha NE!

CALL (531) 233-6154 MOBILE MECHANIC

CALL (402) 401 7564 TOWING SERVICE OMAHA

CALL (402) 590 8094 ROADSIDE ASSISTANCE

WEBSITE:

www.24hourautotruckrepairomaha.org

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SERVICE AREA:

Communities we serve: Omaha, Carter Lake, Council Bluffs, Crescent, Bellevue, Boys Town, La Vista, Papillion, Honey Creek, Offutt A F B, Bennington, Fort Calhoun, Washington, Elkhorn, St Columbans, Underwood, Kennard, Mc Clelland, Mineola, Waterloo, Springfield, Missouri Valley, Treynor, Cedar Creek, Gretna, Blair, Valley, Neola, Pacific Junction, Plattsmouth, Silver City, Glenwood, Louisville, Yutan, Arlington, Minden, Modale, South Bend, Logan, Murray, Ashland, Mead, Persia, Memphis, Manley, Magnolia, Macedonia, Malvern, Fremont, Carson, Oakland, Herman, Murdock, Nickerson, Shelby, Weeping Water, Hastings, Mondamin, Henderson, Ithaca, Hancock, Nehawka, Tabor, Union, Greenwood, Thurman, Portsmouth, Woodbine, Colon, Wahoo, Avoca, Emerson, Winslow, Avoca, Elmwood, Little Sioux, Cedar Bluffs, Pisgah, Tekamah, Alvo, Randolph, Ames, Hooper, Panama, Craig, Waverly, Ceresco, Percival, Otoe, Imogene, Malmo, Sidney, Uehling, Walnut, Harlan, Westphalia, Eagle, Lincoln, Dunlap, Moorhead, Red Oak, Morse Bluff, Weston, Griswold, Blencoe, Earling, Davey, Dunbar, Nebraska City, North Bend, Unadilla, Elliott, Lewis, Prague, Syracuse, Marne, Scribner, Oakland, Palmyra, Pilot Grove, Walton, Riverton, Farragut, Shenandoah, Valparaiso, Lorton, Essex, Soldier, Hamburg, Defiance, Kirkman, Raymond, Dow City, Stanton, Atlantic, Decatur, Bennet, Elk Horn, Snyder, Lyons, Kimballton, Irwin, Arion, Malcolm, West Point, Panama, Roca, Dodge, Manilla, Yorktown, Northboro, Coin, Hickman, Denton, Bancroft, Aspinwall, Sprague, Clarinda, Martell, Blanchard, Manning, Beemer, College Springs, Shambaugh, Braddyville, 50022, 51432, 51446, 51447, 51454, 51455, 51501, 51502, 51503, 51510, 51520, 51521, 51523, 51525, 51526, 51527, 51528, 51529, 51530, 51531, 51532, 51533, 51534, 51535, 51536, 51537, 51540, 51541, 51542, 51543, 51544, 51545, 51546, 51548, 51549, 51550, 51551, 51552, 51553, 51554, 51555, 51556, 51557, 51558, 51559, 51560, 51561, 51562, 51563, 51564, 51565, 51566, 51570, 51571, 51572, 51573, 51575, 51576, 51577, 51578, 51579, 51591, 51593, 51601, 51602, 51603, 51630, 51631, 51632, 51636, 51637, 51638, 51639, 51640, 51645, 51647, 51648, 51649, 51650, 51651, 51652, 51653, 51654, 51656, 52648, 68002, 68003, 68004, 68005, 68007, 68008, 68009, 68010, 68015, 68016, 68017, 68018, 68019, 68020, 68022, 68023, 68025, 68026, 68028, 68029, 68031, 68033, 68034, 68037, 68038, 68040, 68041, 68042, 68044, 68045, 68046, 68048, 68050, 68056, 68057, 68058, 68059, 68061, 68063, 68064, 68065, 68066, 68068, 68069, 68070, 68072, 68073, 68101, 68102, 68103, 68104, 68105, 68106, 68107, 68108, 68109, 68110, 68111, 68112, 68113, 68114, 68116, 68117, 68118, 68119, 68120, 68122, 68123, 68124, 68127, 68128, 68130, 68131, 68132, 68133, 68134, 68135, 68136, 68137, 68138, 68139, 68142, 68144, 68145, 68147, 68152, 68154, 68155, 68157, 68164, 68172, 68175, 68176, 68178, 68179, 68180, 68181, 68182, 68183, 68197, 68198, 68304, 68307, 68317, 68336, 68339, 68346, 68347, 68349, 68366, 68372, 68382, 68402, 68403, 68404, 68407, 68409, 68410, 68413, 68417, 68418, 68419, 68428, 68430, 68438, 68446, 68454, 68455, 68461, 68462, 68463, 68501, 68502, 68503, 68504, 68505, 68506, 68507, 68508, 68509, 68510, 68512, 68514, 68516, 68517, 68520, 68521, 68522, 68523, 68524, 68526, 68527, 68528, 68529, 68531, 68532, 68542, 68583, 68588, 68621, 68633, 68648, 68649, 68664, 68716, 68788

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bastardsunlight · 6 years ago

Text

A flash of light deposited the strange pair in the middle of what looked like a wasteland of dust, stone, and corrugated steel. Everything was rusty, dusty, and appeared to be held together by bolts that were older than the structures—if they could have been called that—themselves, ancient even when first employed. Chris could have sworn he spied something precariously perched atop a pole, adhered thereto by at least half a roll of duct tape.

He noted, too, the parts of the landscape that appeared somewhat newer. They were pipes, whole networks of them, stretched out across the vista, running right through what he had always imagined the old Hooverville pop-up homeless towns to resemble, but with a Quonset hut or two to offset the utter fragility of the place. There were tires embedded here and there, and between those were rudimentary crosses—clearly this was a graveyard—and what was not covered in dust had accumulated wide puddles of hissing, purple sludge.

“Welcome to Fyrestone,” rasped Chris’s tall, slender companion, tossing his arm out in a wide arc to indicate the place. The sign was hanging by a bolt or two, but the word “Fyrestone” was clearly emblazoned upon the piece of whatever-it-was that had once proclaimed the town’s name. Again, Chris found the idea of calling this place a “town” a bit dubious, but he supposed that, in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. Their purpose here was simple and twofold. The first object had been to test the portal’s integrity going the other direction. The spark of energy which had brought Mordecai to them might have backfired on them when sending the hunter and Chris back over to the side Wesker had conceded to call “Pandora”, on account of that being the name of the planet. A raucous howl resounded from somewhere down a nearby hill and Mordecai whistled sharply.

A beast crested the rise, coming up from the ditch and presumably its den. Its face opened to either side, revealing a ravenous, vertical mouth, lined with teeth and slobber. Two more followed closely behind, smaller than the first, but no less ferocious. Chris went for his weapon, but Mordecai’s hand on his shoulder stayed him. “Lunch,” he said, not without the ring of dark amusement in his voice.

Presently, and utterly without warning, a blur of feathers and violence divebombed out of the sky, landing squarely atop the first beast’s head. It did not stay long, however, as it had already brained the thing, ripping through its armored flesh and setting it ablaze. The thing howled, but the flying creature was not finished. It bombarded the second and third things—skags, Chris would soon learn was their name—and rained a similar method of destruction down upon them as well. Led by some invisible force, it continued its path back down into the ditch, toward the source of the skags, divebombing anything that moved and leaving it a smoldering heap of crisp wreckage.

“That’s the bird you were telling me about?”

Mordecai nodded and stuck his arm out. It was a twiggy thing, wrapped top to bottom in bandages and leather armor, a patchwork, much like the rest of the man, but the arm received the thing which was not quite a bird with ease. It shrieked in a tone Chris could not decipher as pleased or irritated at his presence. Mordecai clucked at the beast and it lowered its head until their foreheads were touching. The feathers ringing its face were a light gray, lined with black outside of that, making for a striking contrast with its pool-of-blood eyes. The bird clucked in return and then spread wide wings that, while partially feathered, were also leathery webbing, like those of a bat. It took off and alighted atop one of the skag corpses, beginning to feast as the two men watched.

“Talon,” said the hunter finally, crossing his skinny arms over his narrow chest and turning toward Chris. “These’re the borderlands, man…every little bit helps.”

Chris nodded. “I can see that.”

What a desolate waste this was. The industrialization had not done much to improve the view, Chris sensed. As if reading his mind, Mordecai gestured to the piping.

“New lawn decorations, gifts of the Hyperion corporation,” he said, the acid in his voice making Mordecai’s disdain for this company readily apparent. “Y’know,” he added after a moment, “They shot the components and workforce down from Helios to build these ugly-ass things…”

“Helios?”

“Big H-shaped space station,” responded Mordecai, gesturing toward the massive moon, hanging over the planet almost casually in the midday sun. “Used to float between us an’ Elpis, Pandora’s moon.”

Chris’s green eyes bugged. Space travel, when spoken of so casually, seemed wildly out of place in this land which seemed as if it could only support inbred hillbillies and skags. The fact that it did both of those things, in addition to house items such as digistruct rent-a-car kiosks and the ability to travel between planets (and now dimensions) was never going to cease amazing him. He resisted the urge to explore and focused himself upon the details of their return.

“So, how do we get back?”

Mordecai shook his head. “I dunno—I’m hopin’ your boss has a better idea than we do. I gave him all the information I had, swear on the—on… well I did, anyway.”

Chris nodded. He believed the hunter. He didn’t see any reason for the man to lie, in either case. Wesker was paying him plenty to assist Chris in his mission. For some reason for which none of the three could account, Pandora used the same currency as Chris and Wesker’s home dimension. Mordecai himself had never heard of Earth, claiming to be from a planet called Artemis, but the money was good, so he had eagerly accepted the job. He was an opportunist, Chris had gathered, some sort of mercenary, which would have been obvious from his garb, even without speaking to the man. When Mordecai had named himself a Vault Hunter, however, Chris had lost the track entirely.

He inquired after the Vault, or Vaults, as they walked. Mordecai followed the train of his own thoughts as easily as they followed those massive, purple-leaking pipes. The ground was poisoned with it. Chris could almost smell the decay, but it wasn’t a regular sort of organic rot; it was strange and stuck in his nose, prickling at it. This stuff, Mordecai told Chris, was the raw form of Eridium, the fancy rocks Wesker sought; much like the byproduct of its refinement, or Slag, this unrefined sludge had a potent effect and the hunter suggested they avoid contact with it.

“I’d use a fast-travel station, but I don’t think you want your DNA mixed up in all this,” Mordecai said at one point. Chris recalled the hunter’s tales of the New-U stations and how they worked, assuming fast travel stations were similar, or part of that same network. “Besides,” Mordecai added, “there’s a refinery near here anyway. After we cracked the Vault and made calamari from the thing that popped out, the planet sorta exploded with the stuff.”

Chris was following but not following. It was not that he was slow, or that Mordecai was expounding too much. It was simply that the set of information that the hunter had to go on, as far as life experience went, was entirely outside the circle of Chris’s knowledge and experience. It was so vastly different, but just similar enough to pique his irritation—at himself, of course—for not being able to grasp it all at once. He desperately wanted to. There was something familiar about Mordecai, as if they’d met before. Perhaps it was his mannerisms, or the way he moved. Chris couldn’t place it, but despite the man’s somewhat shady occupation, he wanted to befriend him. It was an odd urge, and one Chris had not felt in a very long time. It made his heart squeeze a little.

“Exploded?” Chris was full of questions today, but was also oddly unbothered by it. He wanted to know more about this place. Wesker did, too. That was part of his mission here, to learn as much as he could about Pandora, its inhabitants, the native flora and fauna, and bring that back to him. Strangely enough, Wesker had not shared his motives in asking this of Chris, but Chris was not stupid. He knew how Wesker’s mind worked and while he figured it would not be for a terribly nefarious purpose, he could have almost guaranteed it had something to do with the viruses they were constantly creating, testing, and modifying.

“Yeah, man, you can see it from space, I guess… haven’t been up there to see it myself, but when Lilith an’—when Lilith visited Elpis, she said she could see the crack in the planet’s surface, all glowin’ an’ shit…”

Lilith and whom? Chris wondered peripherally. He didn’t ask, assuming the stoppage had been because whomever the other person may have been, they were no longer. It clearly pained Mordecai, much as his goggles and stony poker face attempted to hide the fact. The set of his narrow shoulders had changed and he seemed to collapse in on himself a little when not-mentioning that other person.

“Must be a helluva view,” said Chris as they neared a strange post, or pillar. It was clearly manufactured and the name upon the device was Hyperion, though Chris noted that the name had been besmirched with what he prayed was red paint. Mordecai accessed the terminal and suddenly, out of nowhere, a vehicle materialized—no, the word was digistruct; Chris recalled this from one of Mordecai’s stories.

The hunter climbed into the driver’s seat and jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate a rotating turret atop the vehicle. “Hop in.”

The ride was surprisingly smooth, given the gradation and unevenness of the terrain. Mordecai was not an awful driver, but more than one beast fell prey to the vehicle, crushed under and sometimes caught up in the wheels. They moved, Chris noticed, on separate shocks, which probably accounted for the smoothness. This engineering made operating the rocket-launcher much easier, something he never thought he’d say again in his lifetime. But Chris Redfield and rocket munitions were close friends. It seemed destiny, at this point.

Soon enough, they were on an uphill approach to a massive facility. The pipeline that had disfigured Fyrestone fed into it, along with many, many others from all different directions. The place appeared abandoned, but Mordecai warned of potential bandit squatters, or rakk infestations. Chris did not know what a rakk was, but got an idea that they came in swarms when Mordecai handed him a shotgun with a fairly wide spread and told him to keep his eyes on the sky. They left the vehicle behind at the entrance and headed in, the hunter in the lead, a revolver perched comfortably in one hand. The mess in here was similar to that outside, with shattered glass, and what looked like various picture frames pulled from walls and utterly splintered.

“It’s quiet,” Chris commented. Mordecai nodded.

“Didn’t used’a be,” said the hunter. Bloodstains marked the walls where unfortunate humans met their end, oil had soaked into the earth where robots—Loaders was the Hyperion designation—had been disassembled. It was quiet carnage, with not a body to show for the effort. Burn marks, gouges, and rubble lay strewn about, but there were no bodies. Chris shuddered, wondering if any of them were walking around. He did not see Mordecai shuddering similarly, for the same reason.

“I see,” Chris confirmed, nodding even though Mordecai was not looking at him. This must have been one of the sites of the battles Mordecai had described, the all-out war between the violent-yet-free people of Pandora and the Hyperion corporation, specifically Handsome Jack. That guy sounded like a megalomaniac in the worst style and Mordecai’s grudge with him was understandably personal. Losing two friends to the machinations of a charismatic madman was not a phenomenon with which Chris was unfamiliar. Except I reconciled with mine, he thought. Sounds like this madness wasn’t curable.

They reached the doors without incident. These were large, thick, and metallic, bearing the same color scheme as most of the rest of the building, garish yellow with black, white, and red splashed someplace upon it. The word Hyperion was stamped in white paint across the doors, but split due to their yawn and Chris thought it was a fitting metaphor.

“What happened to the station you mentioned?” Chris gestured up, indicating Elpis and the lack of a giant H in front of it. Mordecai made a whistling sound, like bombs in old cartoons and followed it up with his best impression of a massive explosion. Chris couldn’t help smiling at this as they passed the threshold. The emergency lights were on, but the place was eerie. It gave Chris the creeps and Mordecai wasn’t feeling exactly comfortable himself. He kept his revolver at the ready, sharp, goggled eyes scanning everything.

“Shipping an’ receiving’s further in,” Mordecai told him, “but I’m betting we find smaller chunk of the stuff in the R&D labs, below.”

R&D labs was not a phrase Chris liked much. It reminded him too much of how Leon had described the Hive. He was accustomed to Wesker’s new, spacious labs inside the mountains. Sure, they were covered in tons of rock, but there wasn’t a living, breathing city full of innocent people atop it as well. If something leaked, the safety protocols and disposal teams were trained to handle it. Without a million, human carriers, it would be much easier to contain. Sometimes, it still made Chris nervous, but he trusted Albert Wesker. He trusted the man had no more ill intentions of assuming a deity’s throne than he himself had.

“I hate this shit,” Mordecai growled, punching the button for a lift to take them down into the bowels of the facility. “You know Jack used the Slag to experiment on people?”

The way he said it suggested the hunter had personal experience with one such situation, maybe more. He did not mention his bird, Bloodwing, and the specificity suggested that some folks he’d known had fallen victim to Handsome Jack’s machinations. As the doors slid open, a portrait grinned out at them from the back of it.

“That him?” He gestured to the handsome man in the portrait, clearly a painting, but very photorealistic. He had a square jaw, mischievous brows, a troublemaker’s hairstyle, swooped and unruly, but somehow utterly under control. More than that, however, Chris marked the two colors of the man’s eyes, blue and green. That was a rare combination, indeed, and added an air of charisma and mystique to him. Chris felt his heart beating a little faster and sort of hated himself for it. This was a portrait and if it was, indeed, Handsome Jack, it was the portrait of a mass-murdering, cold-blooded, narcissistic maniac. All the same, he was handsome.

“Yeah,” hissed Mordecai. His free hand shot out, snagged the bottom of the portrait, and whipped it out the doors of the lift, into the hall with a frisbee motion. Before it hit the ground, he’d emptied six chambers into it. Chris saw with rapt fascination that not a single shot missed. The shattered portrait danced on its way down and this seemed to satisfy the hunter.

“Remind me not to get into a dual with you,” said Chris, doing his best to lighten the situation. Mordecai punched the “sub-basement” button and nodded, grunting his agreement.

“When I was seventeen,” he began, “I won an intergalactic sniping competition, the biggest one out there.” He didn’t bother naming it. Chris wouldn’t know and it damn well didn’t matter anymore. “I used a Tediore revolver.”

He spun the firearm in his hand and holstered it—which in this world mean allowing his hip-mounted storage deck to de-digistruct it as he released his grip upon the weapon. That he kept the same firearm from his younger years did not surprise Chris. Mordecai seemed like the romantic type, the sentimental, wrapping himself—literally and figuratively—in calloused uncaring and a sharp sense of humor to protect the soft warmth within. Chris answered the story with a low whistle.

“What was the prize?” The elevator began its descent.

“A kick in the cajones,” Mordecai responded. He did not look at Chris, instead focusing on the door and their slow progress downward. There was no need to relive that. Chris watched the hunter, observing his posture and the way he withdrew into himself. He was beginning to get the feeling that this tournament had been what might have started Mordecai down the path of the treasure hunter. If it wasn’t the single factor, it was a heavy contributor.

“I took the money an’ split, but they didn’t wanna give it to me,” the hunter continued, sensing Chris’s mouth opening to press. It was an easy story to tell if he left out the details. “Plen’ny of guys thought I was cheating, accused me of unsportsmanlike conduct. Man you ain’t seen a sportsman like me… Anyway I was a dumbshit kid an’ it ruffled my feathers. I never looked back.”

Chris could understand that. He was not a cool cucumber at seventeen. And now, he felt as if he owed the hunter a story in return.

“I ah… joined the military right out of high school. Airforce.” When Mordecai gave him a funny look, Chris was forced to recall that in this reality, or sector of space, or whatever it was, corporations openly controlled whole planets and it was they who had the standing militaries. “Ah, where I’m from, the government has a standing military to protect its interests and citizens.”

“Sounds plenty like Atlas an’ the Lance,” Mordecai decided. Chris nodded.

“In a lot of ways it is; they just pretend they aren’t… The guys in charge, anyway. People down below, they don’t know any better. People join the military to escape, ‘cause they don’t have any other prospects…. Because they’re desperate.”

Mordecai remembered Roland, what he’d said of Promethea, his home planet, and why he had joined the Crimson Lance. The word “desperation” had been part of Roland’s explanation too, and like Chris, it was simply that. It was no justification, no excuse. It was simply his story, the reason he had done it.

“You didn’t join ‘cause you thought it was a solid career path, I take it,” surmised Mordecai, his eyes still on the counter next to the elevator door. They were almost to the bottom, but he was curious. He wanted to know more, all of a sudden. Chris shook his head, grinning.

“And I had a problem with authority.” He recalled the orders he had refused, on the grounds of his own moral code, of course, but refusal was refusal. Mordecai guessed the military did not take kindly to disobedient cogs. Chris confirmed this by continuing. “They ah, discharged me…. But y’know, I still had all the skills, and I honestly don’t think I lost much. Wesker picked me up shortly after that, for a group called STARS… kind of an auxiliary law enforcement, for tough situations.”

Mordecai could understand that well enough. He was about to ask for more when the elevator made a pleasant dinging noise and a female voice welcomed them cordially to the sub-basement and listed off a series of sectors they could visit. Each was more horrifying than the last and Mordecai stepped out of the elevator so as not to absorb too much of it.

“I thought it was creepy upstairs,” Chris whispered, unsure why he was doing so. This space just seemed to beg for quietude, as if disturbing it would bring some kind of dark wrath down upon them. The auxiliary lights down here were not in good shape, flickering now and again to add to the drama. Mordecai signaled that quiet was the right idea. They didn’t know what was down here, except that it was making their hackles stand up. “So, how did you end up coming through to our… y’know, side?”

Mordecai shrugged. “Brick an’ I were checkin’ out the damage… near the Eridium scar, where the original vault was. We got separated an’ I found the site. The place was hummin’, man, a lot like it did when—y’know, when we opened it the first time.”

“I wonder if that’ll be our way back,” Chris mused. “Weird that it didn’t drop us there, though.”

The hunter nodded, conceding that point. He didn’t understand interdimensional travel, but guessed that if the portal on the other side had not been calibrated with that energy signature in mind—and how could it be, given that Wesker didn’t know it—they could have landed any old place. Thank god it was Fyrestone. “No complainin’,” he said after a moment, “since it coulda dropped us into some nasty shit.”

Chris agreed, of course, but was still intrigued as they made their way deeper into the facility.

They wandered for what seemed like hours, but according to Chris’s watch, which worked but made little difference with the planet’s 90+ hour cycles of day and night, it had been ten minutes. Down the hall—the dark hall, as the auxiliary lights had given out in this section—there was a dull, purple glow issuing from a door which had been left ajar. “There,” Mordecai said, pointing. “Grab whatcha need an’ let’s go.”

“You’re not coming?” Baffled, Chris turned his attention away from the violet glow, which he realized was also creating some kind of low, sub-aural hum. Mordecai shook his head.

“Ain’t gettin’ near that shit.”

“Why not? You said it wasn’t unsafe…”

“It’s safe,” Mordecai shot back, “jus’… not… for me.”

Now, Chris was suspicious. Why did it suddenly feel like something, some vital detail, had been kept from him. Wesker would not have sent him if he thought it was radioactive in such a way that would actually harm Chris. He had all the facts, didn’t he? Mordecai had told him everything… hadn’t he? Chris snagged the slender hunter by the top of his scarf-like collar—or maybe it was a scarf; the man was so wrapped up, it was hard to tell—and pinned him against the wall.

“Th’ fuck does that mean?” Chris’s face was inches from Mordecai’s. It infuriated him that he could not see the merc’s eyes, could not tell what he was thinking.

“It means I can’t touch that shit, okay? I can’t get near it—not in those quantities. It ain’t unsafe. You’ll be fine.”

“And you won’t?” Chris did not release Mordecai, green eyes narrow and staring up—he wasn’t used to looking up at anyone—into the hunter’s goggles. Mordecai started to shake his head and then stopped. He swallowed hard and sighed.

“I’ll live,” he relinquished. “Look, you keep this shit to yourself, man. I’m only sayin’ this ‘cause I know I won’t ever see your ass again.”

“Fine.” Chris released his hold and Mordecai reached up to adjust his collar. “Talk.”

Once more, the hunter sighed. Chris could not see in the dimness, but the man’s leathery cheeks had gone a deep red. His heart was pounding. This, too, Chris could not hear, but Mordecai was sure the entire facility could detect it. The blood pounded in his ears as he began unraveling the cloth bandages that covered his left arm. He pulled up one edge and realized, with heart-stopping horror, that even this close to what was almost certainly a massive pile of Eridium, his markings had begun to respond.

“It’s easier if I show you first,” said Mordecai, voice low. He continued to unravel and a fantastic array of dully illuminated patterns revealed themselves, all the way up his arm. The bandages went right to his shoulder. He tugged off the rest of the wrappings and held the entire pile in one hand. “Remember the Sirens I told you an’ the boss man about?”

“Wesker,” Chris filled in, “and yeah. Six of ‘em in the universe at a time.”

“And…?”

“Six and…” Chris paused, racking his brains for the strange information which did not want to stay put, because it was so foreign. “All female.”

“Yeah.”

The silence between them was palpable. Mordecai breathed deeply, stowed the bandages, and brushed past Chris, hoping that would be enough. If the guy wanted to see him walk in there so bad, he’d do it. Obviously, Mordecai knew that this was not the point of the argument, but he was feeling petty. He’d seen Lilith use the stuff to supercharge her power; maybe he could do the same, but he didn’t want to.

“Mordecai!” Chris jogged after the man. “I get it, you don’t have to go on… I—”

“No, man, you don’t. You don’t get it. All my life, I’ve been this way. Y’know other people can… y’know, be what they’re s’poseda be, but I got this shit.” He thrust his arm out, which was now glowing much more brightly. “This shit that will always remind me that I’m not… that I can’t.”

Mordecai stalked into the room. There was a sizable pile of the ingots on a table, in addition to smaller pieces littering the place and all over other desks and various examination stations. The quantity of it explained the magnitude of its glow in the hallway. Chris stopped cold at the threshold, amazed by the stuff. He’d never seen anything like it. Mordecai stood in the middle of the room, his tattoos glowing violently. He turned toward Chris then, tugging his goggles down so they dangled about his neck like some grisly hangman’s noose. The hunter’s eyes were glowing a vicious violet and in the light, Chris swore he saw tears.

“See what it does to me—to us… Sirens? It… Feels so good. It’s like I need more, like I’m addicted… But I’ve been down that road. I don’t want more. I wanna be… I just wanna… I’m a Vault Hunter.”

He hated the quavering of his own voice and the weakness in his heart. The room was becoming faceted like diamonds, and blurring. The view was spectacular and he began to feel a strange, forceful euphoria. This was what Lilith had described when she’d told them how it felt to absorb the power of refined Eridium. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, irritated by its presence.

“Just because you’re a Siren… doesn’t make you less of a Vault Hunter,” Chris observed, “or a man.”

“But—”

“No, I really think there’s no but,” Chris shot back, approaching the hunter with measured, but bold steps. “There’s just you and five other people in the universe who can do… whatever it is you all do. That they’re all women is kind of up for debate too, if you think about it.”

Mordecai had not considered it that way. Never in all his life had he been able to divorce his Siren status from his sex. It simply did or could not separate. Or perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps it was within himself to do this and it had taken Chris’s sharp reminder to bring that to him. He was still a Vault Hunter, still the best marksman in the galaxy and probably beyond, but he was also a Siren. Lilith herself had brought up the advantages of it. In fact, she’d named his ability, once he’d consented to show her: Phasestep. She said it sounded cooler when you put the word phase in front of it. He’d laughed at that, and he was laughing now… a little at first, and then the laughter bubbled up to something cathartic and almost wild.

“Shit,” he gasped, “would ya lookit that…”

“Yeah,” Chris agreed, grabbing a piece of the Eridium and stowing it in one of his packs. “So let’s get out of here and then you can show me what your power can do.”

Mordecai nodded. He was not ready to overclock himself with Eridium, but he was, he supposed, ready to show Chris how Phasestep worked. “I can do you one better,” said the hunter, focusing his energy. He lifted his hand and with it, a tear seemed to form in the center of the room, rounding itself out to a hole about seven feet tall and four wide. On the other side, the familiar vista of Fyrestone shimmered and shifted. “I’ve never gone this far before,” he admitted, “so it must be the Eridium.”

Chris gave a low whistle. “Is it safe for both of us?”

“Sure,” said Mordecai, not without humor. “Man, hell if I know. I’ve only used it a couple of times… which I guess is pretty stupid, given what I do for a living.”

He stepped toward the image, but it wavered unsteadily, crackled and flashed once, before switching to another familiar scene.

“Is that… the lab?” Chris’s brows knitted together. On the other side of this tear in space-time, he could see the wavery form of Albert Wesker, standing near a console, punching numbers. He straightened suddenly, as if he’d felt eyes upon him, and turned. The surprise on his face was blurry, but Chris could see it, and it pleased him. “It is!”

“Go on,” said Mordcai, “I’ll follow.”

Chris was not sure he would—in fact, he was positive he would not see Mordecai again, but he had his sample and was more than pleased to see his lover. Mentally, he wished Mordecai luck and stepped through.

written for @tyrant-chris-redfield whomst I cannot tag because life is awful but I love them v much, bish u know who u r

#awwjeezbrick #ficlet #my writing #writing #i have no idea what my tagging system is #re crossover?#idk here u go

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