09-02-2016, 09:12 AM
Samus has a look of calm collection as she exits from the Nexus gate. She places a hand on either side of her helmet, begins to lift … and then returns her arms to her side.
Stepping from the standing stones that enclose the gate, she sees the orange sun drifting westward. It was night when she last left Camelot. Perhaps it has been less than a day since she snuck away to observe the fight at the Nexus. Perhaps longer. She wastes no time in heading to her ship.
It’s where she left it, hidden a small ways away from the gate in a small alcove. She checks it. There are no signs of any intrusion. She kicks her legs off the ground, twitching her feet just enough to boost herself up to the roof of the ship, before descending through the roof-hatch into the ship’s cramped cabin compartment. She reaches a hand towards the controls.
She stops.
A moment later she touches a hand to the side of her visor. It shines blue and begins to emit a ray of light that sweeps across the interior of her ship, permeating through the reflective surfaces. Her gaze casts downward, into the ship’s belly.
And then in one fluid motion, she spins around the captain’s chair into the exit compartment, her suit tightening into an organic blue appearance. The hatch opens and she leaps out into the sky as her suit continues changing, speeding upwards. She lands some distance away as the ship explodes.
Her visor captures the full blinding light of the white explosion and she shields herself from the tiny bits of shrapnel that burn her suit. There’s no time to take stock.
The Stalker is behind her.
A blast of blue light engages the Hunter as she dives to her left, turning and shooting as she lands. The Stalker tumbles in turn to shoot; Samus strafes and tracks her shot, landing a couple of trifling explosions on her adversary’s monstrous form. In retaliation the Stalker charges up a shot, the light at the end of its cannon swelling from pebble to shotput in a half-second. Samus grits her teeth and responds in kind.
The two blasts collide in the matter of meters between them, and the light elicited grants them each a moment to reposition. Samus takes her stand behind some rocks, holding her gun arm aside to charge. The Stalker takes the high ground, its head and cannon poking out from an observing cliff edge.
As the light fades, Samus spies her opponent and lets her shot loose. In the moment it takes the Stalker to dodge and respond, Samus has vanished beneath the low rocks. The Stalker flares her arms in rage as her body lights up. Myriad missiles begin to form themselves upon the wretched suit – the shoulders, the kneecaps, the waist, its sternum – and as they do they begin to fire themselves outward in an awkward arc, blue lights tracing their rise and their fall.
A small blue ball less than a metre in diameter boosts from the exploding wreckage. The light within the sphere emerges into Samus Aran, who tumbles, hitting the ground and rolling to a stop.
She stands and meets the eyes of her opponent. In Coruscant’s bowels, it had been difficult to get a good look at the Stalker. She now sees why. Its armour is an inky silver, almost black, that seems to absorb the light. It moves forward upon two-clawed boots with an animalistic gait; the top half of its body is slightly hunched towards its prey.
“What are you.” Samus demands, her voice bare of intonation.
Stepping from the standing stones that enclose the gate, she sees the orange sun drifting westward. It was night when she last left Camelot. Perhaps it has been less than a day since she snuck away to observe the fight at the Nexus. Perhaps longer. She wastes no time in heading to her ship.
It’s where she left it, hidden a small ways away from the gate in a small alcove. She checks it. There are no signs of any intrusion. She kicks her legs off the ground, twitching her feet just enough to boost herself up to the roof of the ship, before descending through the roof-hatch into the ship’s cramped cabin compartment. She reaches a hand towards the controls.
She stops.
A moment later she touches a hand to the side of her visor. It shines blue and begins to emit a ray of light that sweeps across the interior of her ship, permeating through the reflective surfaces. Her gaze casts downward, into the ship’s belly.
And then in one fluid motion, she spins around the captain’s chair into the exit compartment, her suit tightening into an organic blue appearance. The hatch opens and she leaps out into the sky as her suit continues changing, speeding upwards. She lands some distance away as the ship explodes.
Her visor captures the full blinding light of the white explosion and she shields herself from the tiny bits of shrapnel that burn her suit. There’s no time to take stock.
The Stalker is behind her.
A blast of blue light engages the Hunter as she dives to her left, turning and shooting as she lands. The Stalker tumbles in turn to shoot; Samus strafes and tracks her shot, landing a couple of trifling explosions on her adversary’s monstrous form. In retaliation the Stalker charges up a shot, the light at the end of its cannon swelling from pebble to shotput in a half-second. Samus grits her teeth and responds in kind.
The two blasts collide in the matter of meters between them, and the light elicited grants them each a moment to reposition. Samus takes her stand behind some rocks, holding her gun arm aside to charge. The Stalker takes the high ground, its head and cannon poking out from an observing cliff edge.
As the light fades, Samus spies her opponent and lets her shot loose. In the moment it takes the Stalker to dodge and respond, Samus has vanished beneath the low rocks. The Stalker flares her arms in rage as her body lights up. Myriad missiles begin to form themselves upon the wretched suit – the shoulders, the kneecaps, the waist, its sternum – and as they do they begin to fire themselves outward in an awkward arc, blue lights tracing their rise and their fall.
A small blue ball less than a metre in diameter boosts from the exploding wreckage. The light within the sphere emerges into Samus Aran, who tumbles, hitting the ground and rolling to a stop.
She stands and meets the eyes of her opponent. In Coruscant’s bowels, it had been difficult to get a good look at the Stalker. She now sees why. Its armour is an inky silver, almost black, that seems to absorb the light. It moves forward upon two-clawed boots with an animalistic gait; the top half of its body is slightly hunched towards its prey.
“What are you.” Samus demands, her voice bare of intonation.
![[Image: 0bwAI3j.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/0bwAI3j.jpg)