The Stars Over Elpis

The days were long, The sun was hot, and the snow was cold. They trekked through all sorts of environments, the 6 of them, across stretches of land where people were never meant to tread, the landscape cruel in its lack of air. They slept in their clothes in dirty motels, in the backs of rovers, on the cold ground of the floors of their allies, and woke with stiff necks and sore muscles, still tired. There was always a watch, always someone who sat awake with claptrap to ensure that they wouldn't all be killed while they rested. The chores kept coming: from Jack, from Concordia, from anyone desperate enough to look to a ragtag team of almost-heroes, and so they ran themselves ragged, killing and stealing and infiltrating for the greater good; whatever that was.
Some adjusted better than others, Nisha and Wilhelm taking it all in stride, killing for the pleasure and looting for the joy of it, spurred on by the aching in their muscles, from the thrill of dodging bullets, from the promise of some ill-gotten cash. Athena was all business, as usual. She spoke little and complained less, doing what was asked of her with military precision. The baroness Aurelia carried herself with pride and with dignity, her skills sharpened from the hunt. Claptrap rolled along in his own sort of stride, wielding guns without caring for the consequences, taking bullets without feeling pain. Tim had it the worst, but he kept up, looking up to the station in a silent thanks for the slight enhancements that made it just that little bit less painful.
For a while, all seemed well, at least as well as expected, with high morales and the assurance that in a few days their job would be over. Those few days turned to weeks, then to a month, the rough terrain of the moon matching the rough terrain of scars, which began building up on their skin. They began to question and they began to doubt, some more than others, if this was really worthwhile; If the sight of scav brains in zero gravity could be corrected with money.
Things went wrong and things turned bad, and they began to speak with one another, sharing stories of distant planets that they would only see in memory. They began to wonder if every planet in the system was a hellhole like this, if every planet in the galaxy was a hellhole like this, and couldn't decide if it was better to live in the only slice of hell in a peaceful universe or to be a normal planet in a hellish one. For the most part, they didn't care, as it didn't change the gunshots and the calluses and the senseless killing.
The days rolled by and they were tired, but they got stronger, toted heavier guns, packed bigger punches, and took down anything in their way. Jack took Helios, and the dynamic changed. They killed the evil, the indifferent, and the innocent alike, watching as allies turned away and the jibs slowly stopped trickling in. The echo messages from the station became more frequent, more demanding, and they finally tracked down the vault, watching helplessly as Jack was branded. They wondered, for the most part, what it had all been for. They wondered if they had lost. Only Wilhelm and Nisha stayed in Jack's Employ after that, the rest leaving, getting as far away as they could. They never spoke after that, the silent question of what had come between them lingering in the empty spaces between planets. Somewhere, in memory, they would always have Elpis, another place surrounded with starts that they could only revisit in spirit.