MESH Part 2

[Samus Aran]

Picking back up One Of The Men from here

It’s midnight when Samus returns to the barracks. The guardsman outside cocks a head. “Samus Aran?”

She simply regards him. Then herself. Then her armour flickers, disappearing into light, and then nothing, leaving her standing several inches shorter in only her gym wear. “Forgot,” she muttered.

The guard is flabbergasted momentarily, which is long enough for Samus to walk through without further question.

Nobody walks the corridors at this time of night, and she’s able to get to her dormitory without anybody else gawping at the futuristic materials she’s wearing.

The door to the bedroom creaks open. Her bed is still empty – Samus’s shoulders sag a little. As she creeps over, she sees R’cheev’s eye open in the near-pitch blackness, and stops.

“Sorry about your nose,” she whispers.

Silence. Then, “Better late than never.”

Samus asks the pressing question. “How long has it been?”

“About two weeks.”

Samus gets into bed.

“That’s it?” R’cheev asks.

“That’s it.” Samus closes her eyes. And they speak no more for the rest of the night.

* * * * *

As breakfast finishes the next day, Lunch catches sight of Samus. “Thought you were gone,” he said.

Samus pauses. “There was something happening I couldn’t ignore.”

“I caught wind of that. But you’re alright?”

“… Better.”

Lunch chews his gum. “Yeah right. We’ll see.”

* * * * *

Swords crossed swords. Spears crossed spears. Crossbows emptied their bolts into straw men, and axes cleaved them in twain.

Samus had changed since her return from the Nexus. The falter in her hands was gone. So, too, was the fire in her eyes. Something had replaced it. Steel.

Day by day the stares lessened. As new recruits rose through the ranks, Samus faded to the back of the crowd. In evenings she would spend her time going over and over the drills. Sometimes she would sneak to the roofs to do her own. Today was one of those days.

R’cheev came at her with the blunt halberd, and Samus deflected. Angel watched from close by as the two warrior women crossed blades. Although R’cheev was by far the taller woman, one could see that Samus was holding back. Her biceps barely flexed as she held up the poleaxe of wood and steel, delicately but firmly pushing back her opponent. Angel’s job was to try and flank. But every time she made a jump to the sides of Samus, the huntress would make a sweeping backward step, managing to keep her weapon between R’cheev while avoiding Angel. As the curly-haired girl made bolder attempts to attack, she finally grazed a hit; her spear surging forward with surprising strength, into Samus’s back–

… Almost. Samus arched her back at the last second and hopped aside, arms and weapon held dangerously high above her head. Instead of hitting Samus, the blunt spear thwacked into R’cheev, intercepting her attack against the Prime hunter.

“Bitch!” yelled R’cheev. “Sorry.” She made a frustrated sound. “You’ve gotten good, Samus.”

And so it continued.