06-02-2015, 07:10 AM
And that was that.
It hadn’t taken long for Samus to revert to her old habits. It was as though her time with MESH … as they’d so fondly come to refer to themselves, was all just a nice dream. This was the reality. This was what she knew. And unfortunately for her enemies, this was what she was good at.
Gildarts ducked under her hail of flak fire, advancing with a step and a rising fist. Samus could have backed off more, taken him apart with the flak cannon. But she didn’t feel like being methodical right now. She felt like breaking this man apart with her bare fists. It could have been anyone, but he was here, and she needed someone to take this frustration out on. So she let the punch graze the side of her visor, rearing her arm cannon back. Then she threw it forward, like a hand-guided missile, into her enemy’s gut. He reeled. She wasn’t done. Her left leg came upwards, swinging with centrifugal force. Credit to the man; he blocked, both hands coming upwards. The hunter noted a wince, the slightest indicator of hesitation, and his bloodied right hand. A shark’s smile loomed on her face. With her left foot still braced against the man’s hands, Samus jumped upwards, twisting in the air and bringing her right leg around. A ballsy, stupid move, but it paid off, connecting with the man’s head and sending him spinning into the trees. Samus caught herself and landed on the ground in a semi-crouch, one leg extended to the side.
That felt good.
She waited for the man to get up. He looked almost offended, and he clearly hadn’t taken that kick to the side of the head in good humour. He cracked his neck with a solid glare and came again, taking his weapon — a sword with some type of gun affixed to the hilt — from where it had previously fallen on the forest floor. He swung and Samus danced around his attacks, the speed of the Predator suit making it easy. He was strong, but not quick. She wondered who was more skilled?
As that almost-unconscious thought slipped her psyche, she found herself having to bend at an awkward angle to dodge an incoming stab. And as she reached for the floor to brace herself, she suddenly felt it vanish beneath her. Her opponent had hooked his foot around hers and pulled backwards. She collided with the floor and rolled just in time to avoid his sword. It let loose a BANG! as it connected with the solid landscape, sending up a spray of dirt and leaves in its wake. In the next moment they’d wheeled round to each other and were facing another assault. She raised her flak cannon and he his gunblade. But for some reason, neither moved to attack. Slowly, the tension in the air began to change.
“Who are you?” asked Samus Aran.
The man stuck his sword in the ground, crossing his arms. I didn’t ask him to lower his only defence, thought the hunter. “Gildarts.” He said.
Samus lowered her weapon, cautiously. “Samus.” She said.
The silence now was palpable. This ‘Gildarts’ didn’t seem to want to fight, nor did Samus, but friendliness was far from close by. So the bounty hunter shot a question instead. “What were you talking about back there? Kids? Retreating?”
Gildarts grumbled, scratching the back of his head. “I uh … I thought you were someone else.”
“No shit,” snarled Samus. “You might wanna be more careful where you point that sword.”
Gildarts mumbled something about blood in his eyes, but didn’t argue. “So you weren’t there?”
“There where?” The bounty hunter enquired. “The Easter egg event? Is that why I suddenly got teleported away from my group?”
“Seems everyone did.”
“So it’s back to square one. I suppose Karl wasn’t happy with us being so safe.” The bounty hunter was extremely annoyed. She’d gotten complacent, she knew that, but how could she have expected to be teleported away from her allies? The competition thus far had been unpredictable, but at least it had stuck by its own rules. It seemed that Karl Jak didn’t care for integrity or fairness, so long as he got his blood and — Samus felt her stomach coil — ratings. Making it out alive would be a miracle now.
Anger made the choice for her. “You wanna team up?”
Gildarts looked dubious. “You’ve got a strong kick, I’ll give you that. Still, I’m not sure I can trust someone who doesn’t even show their face. What even are you?”
Samus whipped off her helmet. Her blue-green eyes struck Gildarts like lasers. Then she put the helmet back on. “I’m human. Happy?”
Silence spoke for agreement. It was good enough for now.
It hadn’t taken long for Samus to revert to her old habits. It was as though her time with MESH … as they’d so fondly come to refer to themselves, was all just a nice dream. This was the reality. This was what she knew. And unfortunately for her enemies, this was what she was good at.
Gildarts ducked under her hail of flak fire, advancing with a step and a rising fist. Samus could have backed off more, taken him apart with the flak cannon. But she didn’t feel like being methodical right now. She felt like breaking this man apart with her bare fists. It could have been anyone, but he was here, and she needed someone to take this frustration out on. So she let the punch graze the side of her visor, rearing her arm cannon back. Then she threw it forward, like a hand-guided missile, into her enemy’s gut. He reeled. She wasn’t done. Her left leg came upwards, swinging with centrifugal force. Credit to the man; he blocked, both hands coming upwards. The hunter noted a wince, the slightest indicator of hesitation, and his bloodied right hand. A shark’s smile loomed on her face. With her left foot still braced against the man’s hands, Samus jumped upwards, twisting in the air and bringing her right leg around. A ballsy, stupid move, but it paid off, connecting with the man’s head and sending him spinning into the trees. Samus caught herself and landed on the ground in a semi-crouch, one leg extended to the side.
That felt good.
She waited for the man to get up. He looked almost offended, and he clearly hadn’t taken that kick to the side of the head in good humour. He cracked his neck with a solid glare and came again, taking his weapon — a sword with some type of gun affixed to the hilt — from where it had previously fallen on the forest floor. He swung and Samus danced around his attacks, the speed of the Predator suit making it easy. He was strong, but not quick. She wondered who was more skilled?
As that almost-unconscious thought slipped her psyche, she found herself having to bend at an awkward angle to dodge an incoming stab. And as she reached for the floor to brace herself, she suddenly felt it vanish beneath her. Her opponent had hooked his foot around hers and pulled backwards. She collided with the floor and rolled just in time to avoid his sword. It let loose a BANG! as it connected with the solid landscape, sending up a spray of dirt and leaves in its wake. In the next moment they’d wheeled round to each other and were facing another assault. She raised her flak cannon and he his gunblade. But for some reason, neither moved to attack. Slowly, the tension in the air began to change.
“Who are you?” asked Samus Aran.
The man stuck his sword in the ground, crossing his arms. I didn’t ask him to lower his only defence, thought the hunter. “Gildarts.” He said.
Samus lowered her weapon, cautiously. “Samus.” She said.
The silence now was palpable. This ‘Gildarts’ didn’t seem to want to fight, nor did Samus, but friendliness was far from close by. So the bounty hunter shot a question instead. “What were you talking about back there? Kids? Retreating?”
Gildarts grumbled, scratching the back of his head. “I uh … I thought you were someone else.”
“No shit,” snarled Samus. “You might wanna be more careful where you point that sword.”
Gildarts mumbled something about blood in his eyes, but didn’t argue. “So you weren’t there?”
“There where?” The bounty hunter enquired. “The Easter egg event? Is that why I suddenly got teleported away from my group?”
“Seems everyone did.”
“So it’s back to square one. I suppose Karl wasn’t happy with us being so safe.” The bounty hunter was extremely annoyed. She’d gotten complacent, she knew that, but how could she have expected to be teleported away from her allies? The competition thus far had been unpredictable, but at least it had stuck by its own rules. It seemed that Karl Jak didn’t care for integrity or fairness, so long as he got his blood and — Samus felt her stomach coil — ratings. Making it out alive would be a miracle now.
Anger made the choice for her. “You wanna team up?”
Gildarts looked dubious. “You’ve got a strong kick, I’ll give you that. Still, I’m not sure I can trust someone who doesn’t even show their face. What even are you?”
Samus whipped off her helmet. Her blue-green eyes struck Gildarts like lasers. Then she put the helmet back on. “I’m human. Happy?”
Silence spoke for agreement. It was good enough for now.
![[Image: 0bwAI3j.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/0bwAI3j.jpg)