MESH

[Samus Aran]

“You want to join the army?” He shrugs. “Okay.”

I’m a little surprised, to say the least. My impressions of Camelot, from what I’ve read on the Dataverse and what little I’ve seen, had been that of a fairly, well… backwards society. “Do you get many female soldiers?” I ask, turning my head ever so slightly.

The recruiter smiles mischievously. “Just every once in a while.” He leans his bulk against the wooden counter and studies me. “Tell me one thing … are you a prime?”

I avoid his gaze. I hadn’t been planning on making my status public knowledge, but I also wasn’t in the habit of lying. What the hell, I reason, “Yeah.”

“Hah! I knew it,” he says, taking a triumphant puff on his cigarette.

He says nothing else as I go through the form and sign at the bottom. I push it over and watch him closely for a reaction, but he says nothing. Only a slight squint, perhaps faint recognition – or perhaps my handwriting just isn’t that good. He looks back up and motions with his thumb. “This way.”

The quarters are essentially as I would have expected, or perhaps a little better. It’s grey stone brick, like the rest of Minas Tirith, but I notice how smooth the surface is. Of course, they must have primes to help out and repair with summoning where necessary. It’s cold but not freezing. I’d come prepared for much worse.

As I wander round, the soldiers aren’t shy about looking at me. I stare them straight back in the eye and most of them avert their gaze as soon as I do. I notice that there’s a lot of commotion, a lot of people seem to be suited up despite it being the evening. “What’s happening?” I ask.

The recruiter, whose name I’ve learned is Lunch, answers me: “Today’s the day all the successful recruits get inducted officially. You’ve joined at a good time.”

“Oh?” I try my best to make conversation.

Luckily, Lunch seems happy enough to talk about his responsibilities here at the barracks. “I trained ‘em myself,” he says boastfully. “There was even another prime among them, name of Kyrer or something or other.”

Interesting. I can’t think of anything else to say so I stay silent until he’s done. When he finishes the brief tour, he rounds on me. “So what you think? Will this live up to what you’re used to?”

I make no change of facial expression. “It’ll be fine.”

He smirks. “Well then. Training starts dawn tomorrow. ‘Til then, why not watch the ceremony? It’s probably starting soon.” He glances up at the stone ceiling, looking for a sun that isn’t there.

I smirk before realising I don’t have my helmet, and quickly cough. I’ll have to watch that.

* * * * *

Hundreds of soldiers are piled into the ceremony room, which is impressive considering the cramped nature of the city and its barracks. Just how many soldiers come through here? Is it enough to match the might of the Empire? What are swords and steel against guns?

… Is what my logic says. But my experience thus far in the Omniverse has told me not to rely on traditional logic. After all, I used a sword in Dante's Abyss, and-

A painful flash of memory surges through me and I double over, feeling it all over again. The sword of lightning piercing my heart. Killing me. The most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.

I catch myself and stand hastily back up. A few people have glanced around to look at me, but I’m less concerned with what they think than I am about my sudden loss of control. I temper my frustration and push the memory back to wherever it came from. I don’t need that right now.

In the crowd, I notice a woman, and as I look across she somehow glances my way and we catch eyes. Or at least I think we do — it’s hard to tell from this distance. I want to ask for her advice. There must be so much she could tell me. I make a mental note to find her after the ceremony.

But I never do.