Assembly
Two weeks earlier...
Samus Aran has been many things over the past decade of her life. A hero. A destroyer. A savior. A killer. But always at her core, a hunter. Solitary and self-assured, plunging into the breach alone time and time again. It's become so easy for her she doesn't question her ability to brave the dark sea by herself. But it has left her with one glaring weakness she's only just come to address.
And so she finds herself here, in the office of psychiatrist Dr. Kaia Jha, facing a new and uncertain challenge. The warm, earthy decor is meant to foster a sense of comfort and ease, and yet it still puts her on edge. It's trying to calm her, and that only raises her guard. Samus has gotten more used to sharing her innermost thoughts and concerns over the past weeks with the doctor, but it still feels like she has to force herself to speak sometimes.
"I'm glad you keep showing up for our sessions, Samus. Sometimes the veterans I've treated in the past have been evasive." Dr. Jha is older than Samus by a wide margin. Wrinkles in her caramel skin show the decades of wisdom and experience she carries with her. Her warm, welcoming brown eyes do little to put Samus at ease.
"It helps to have a different perspective on things sometimes. You ask the right questions, see things from angles I can't. But I'm not a veteran," she replies, sitting rigidly on a long, elaborate couch. "I'm just a bounty hunter."
"I fail to see the distinction. More than a decade of combat experience still leaves its scars, officially serving or not." Dr. Jha's smile veils her insight, her soft yet insistent kindness pushing through the hunter's walls. "Now then, last week we ran out of time before we could finish our conversation about your recurring nightmares. Shall we continue?"
"I suppose." Samus crosses her arms and leans back into her seat, her body language speaking volumes of her discomfort.
"You mentioned that Ridley routinely appears in your nightmares. The infamous ringleader of the Space Pirates. Unfortunately, I am rather uninitiated in that infamy. I left the service long before his reign of terror. Tell me more about what happens in these dreams." Dr. Jha picks up a small tablet she uses for note taking, ready to jot down her thoughts.
Samus' brow furrows. "They're confusing and nonsensical, mostly. I follow him across solar systems, engaging in combat and chasing him, but I never seem to get any closer to him. Then I'm in the pits of Zebes again, or back on K-2L. Everything is on fire... and he's there. Flying above me, watching. Sometimes I have my Power Suit, but none of my weapons work. Sometimes I'm just in my Zero Suit, or I'm naked, or I'm a child again. No matter what, I'm completely helpless. Then... he kills me."
"That sounds quite distressing. How do these dreams affect you?" Dr. Jha leans forward, attention focused.
"I've woken up screaming before. Apparently, I lash out in my sleep. Only found out about that part recently." She shifts a little on the couch, her eyes tracing the details of the room to occupy her mind. She tries to shift the topic. "There's actually something else I wanted to talk about today, something I've been thinking about doing for a long time now."
"Oh? Well, please go ahead then." Dr. Jha gives Samus the floor to speak, motioning toward her with an open palm.
Samus looks up at the ceiling, folding her hands on her stomach. "After Lirahad station, I did some reflecting. I've been doing this on my own for almost ten years now. Maybe I should change things. Try something different. Maybe I should work with a crew."
"A crew, you say? That's a big shakeup from being almost entirely solitary." Dr. Jha sits back in her seat, tilting her head at Samus. "What inspired this choice?"
"Well, you said I should change my usual routine, but also... my time with Cernan." Her expression ever so slightly tightens at the mention of his name before falling back into its taciturn standard. "Back at the BSL lab on XT3, leading the security team felt... I don't know... fulfilling. Working with the crew of the Izanagi to fend off Chimera and her cult, having the crew defer to me in a critical situation, I felt the same way again. And when he and I worked together to stop McAlvoy, we synchronized so well. I think... maybe I had forgotten what that felt like. Someone having your back." Samus lets out a sigh. "I think I want to feel that again."
"Hmm," Dr. Jha places her notepad down in her lap and thinks for a moment, tapping her fingertips together. This is an extreme swing for a patient like Samus, especially considering the length of her self-imposed solitude. The doctor is concerned it might be too much. "That sounds like an interesting thought. Let's explore it. Tell me, what sort of people do you think might comprise this team of yours?"
"Well... I've already assembled most of them."
So much for easing into the idea. She doesn't lack for confidence.
"First, I knew I'd need a second-in-command."
000
Adrian Vespen likes this little diner a lot. Tucked away in a small corner of XT3's floating colony city, it gives her a quiet, comfortable place to enjoy a moment by herself. The food is old-fashioned and simple. She likes it that way.
The past year has been a roller coaster of highs and lows. Ever since the insane night of the parasitic breakout back at the BSL facility, she's found herself distracted and distant. Captain Anoleus gave her a raise for her service in that incident, but when he offered her a promotion, she rejected it. She still doesn't understand why. In the moment she just answered.
The team already regards her as a bit of a hard ass and gives her shit for it. Maybe she didn't want to create more degrees of separation between them and her. God, why does she always sabotage herself like that?
She blows out a breath in frustration. "You doin' okay?" the waitress asks as she approaches, plate in hand.
"Sorry. Just a bit out of it, that's all." Adrian smiles at her sheepishly.
"Well, here you go, hon," the waitress says with curt hospitality, placing down a plate of hash browns, scrambled harla eggs, and toast. "Lemme know if you need anything."
"Thank you," Vespen replies as she picks up a fork to poke at her food, disinterested. The one thing she's not fond of here is the toast. They can't get actual flour out here, so they use a fungal spore with similar properties. Tastes funny.
Her mind wanders to her encounter with Samus. Vespen wonders if she should have done something more with that opportunity. Maybe if she had proved her value in some way, it could have... no, that doesn't make sense. A freelance bounty hunter doesn't have a lot of pull in private security.
Still, she can't help but feel like she missed a chance to do something productive for her career. It's too late to consider enlistment; she's already twenty-six, she's too damn old. She sighs deeply. Should have ignored her parents and just done it right out of high school. Some bright-eyed, childish part of her fantasizes about the idea of working with Samus again. The idea of another adventure, of being a part of something bigger than herself, excites her. In her deepest daydreams, she hopes someday the legendary bounty hunter might remember her, or reach out to her again.
But what are the odds of that?
As she sinks into the calorie-laden meal before her, she gets so lost in her thoughts that she doesn't respond when someone takes the seat across from her. As she lifts a speared cluster of egg to her mouth, she looks up. Her face goes slack and her mouth opens in disbelief, the eggs falling from her mouth.
Samus sits across from her. The bounty hunter looks disgusted by what she just witnessed, glancing from Adrian's face to the mess of partially salivated eggs that's dropped onto the table, then back. "Is... this a bad time?"
Vespen looks down at her mess, grabs a napkin from a nearby dispenser, and wipes it up in a rush, pushing her plate to the side. "No! No, not at all! Uh... heeeey! Ahem... good to see you again... Ma'am!" She smiles a manic smile as she tries to compose herself in front of her unexpected visitor.
"Adrian, right? I'm glad I could track you down," Samus says, trying to gloss over what just happened.
"Oh, sorry... I didn't know you were coming. Didn't... I mean, you're welcome at my table, of course! What brings you here, Ma'am?"
Samus shakes her head. "You don't need to call me that. Not yet, anyway."
Adrian's panicked energy fades at that comment. Yet? "What does that mean?"
Samus pulls a folder and datapad from a sling bag she has draped over her shoulder. She lays the datapad flat on the table and turns it on, turning it toward Vespen. "Lieutenant Adrian Vespen. The security certification course you graduated from stated upon your graduation that they had never seen a trainee more suited to the job. You've served under several teams, and less than a year into your career, you attained an officer position working for Ballas Galactic Private Security. Even after switching employers several times, you've held nothing less than an officer's rank since you were twenty. Every employer you've worked for, public or private, has said they were sad to lose you and that they had never seen someone so good at leading a group and following orders to a T. You're described as forthright, uncompromising in your duties, and an all around consummate professional."
Adrian listens, mouth agape. A whispered "W-What?" escapes her. Her eyes rattle a little in her skull as she wonders what kind of fever dream the harla eggs have inflicted on her. A moment ago, she was questioning if she was making the right career choice. Now a galactic hero is sitting across from her, reading from a full dossier of her accomplishments and singing her praises.
"I have a question for you," Samus says, halting her history lesson. "Given the promise you show, why haven't you risen to a leadership position beyond middle-managing an on-site team? Are opportunities like that not offered to you? Or have you just never taken them when they are?"
Owwwwch. Nail, meet hammer. It's like the universe itself is trying to grill her. Adrian scratches at her scalp, messing up some of the red locks upon her head. She takes a moment to formulate her thoughts, running her tongue over her teeth as she ponders on the question. Samus sits there, awaiting the answer. "Yeah, well..." Adrian stammers, "The problem is... I just..."
As she struggles to find the words, Samus narrows her eyes at the younger woman. "Let me put the words in your mouth and see how they fit. You don't take greater leadership positions because you're afraid of failing." Good lord, she's sharp. Guess she'd have to be. But there's an odd clarity to being so accurately pinned down like that. Faced with that, Adrian's embarrassment doesn't feel so bad.
"Well... I think... I think the idea of being in charge is kind of scary. When things go wrong, everything is on your shoulders. You have to be conscious of your team and their strengths, and apply them right, because if you send them into something they can't handle... that's on you. But sometimes you don't have a choice. Hell, sometimes you have to make a choice that will get your people hurt... or worse. I... I'm not sure I can do that sometimes."
Samus nods. It even sounds familiar.
"But being in charge in the field means I get to be in my element. When things are critical, I just... fall back on the book, I guess. Like it's second nature. So I guess I don't want to be in charge because that doesn't put me right next to my team, and I don't want to be just another member of the team because then I feel like I'm not using my full potential." In a strange way, it's gratifying to be forced to put it into words. She looks back up at Samus, her eyebrows pinching together in curiosity. "What is this about?"
Samus gives a half smile. "I have an offer for you."
000
"A good place to start," Kaia muses. "This Adrian woman seems the competent sort, by your description. But I assume one person does not make a crew."
"Yes. In fact, I'd scouted out all my initial choices ahead of going to meet them. But I wasn't expecting someone to offer themselves to me out of the blue..."
000
Chowa Wuulaka can feel eyes on them. It's easy to see the justification. Until recently, the Egenoid Stratocracy did not get along with the Galactic Federation. Even now, the relationship is strained.
So seeing them, a Vorminian, a race employed by the Empire for subterfuge, walking amongst the peaceful Federation races, unabashed and in the open... they understand why their presence is... disquieting.
Even here in a hunter's haven, among the many varied races of bounty hunters, Chowa is unusual and avoided. But they are used to this. It is lonesome, but far preferable to their prior life in Egenoid space. They tug at their rather plain shirt, making sure it doesn't ride too high.
Hunters refer to places like this as a den, though it is formally a Federation bounty post. While bounties are posted and collected at GFP stations throughout the galaxy, this is a particular breed of facility in which hunters commune while collecting their pay. In addition, it provides several services standard GFP stations do not, such as license registration and renewal. Several bounty hunters walk about and chat with each other in this common ground for their trade. They discuss recent bounties earned, potential big fish still at large in the galaxy, Federation sponsored missions, and private contracts. Many size each other up in good spirits, trading stories and recent accomplishments.
But none of them approach Chowa. Sitting alone, in the center of it all, creating an unintentional repelling sphere of influence none of the others cross.
However, there are advantages to being ignored in such a way. It lets Chowa hear things many of their peers say unguarded and unaware. Such is the case when they are one of the first to notice the eerie quiet near the entrance of the building. Chowa hears it move like a wave over the others, getting closer, until they see the source of the disturbance.
Samus Aran.
Chowa has been in this line of work in some fashion or another for longer than she's been alive, yet they could not dream of being as accomplished at the same young age. Samus Aran single-handedly elevated the nature of bounty hunting to where it would be no overstatement to say every hunter here has benefitted somehow.
If the silence and the stares bother her, she does not show it. Her stride is even and unbroken, eyes forward, mind on her own business. Chowa has learned to be observant in their many years. They always imagined such a figure would be imposing... the reality does not disappoint. Despite the frail and small bodies humans have, her stature is every bit as formidable as her reputation, and all the hunters here must recognize it considering how their eyes follow her.
She makes her way over to the registration desk, and the din rises once more. Chowa listens close, intensely curious about what the others have to say about her.
"See that? The rumors are true. She's registering a group license."
"You can't possibly know that for sure. She could just be renewing hers."
"No, really, she hired some security officer right out from under BSL to join a crew."
A crew?
"A security officer? Psh. Of course she's not actually going to hire anyone who might take the spotlight from her. Probably just a gullible meat shield."
"Shit, if I didn't care about my life, I'd offer to join up, but I don't feel like becoming one with an asteroid field. She probably blew up all those planets for fun, and my knees aren't good enough for that much running. Not anymore."
"Yeah, bet the pay would let you retire after one job. She keeps getting those fat Federation contracts, literal millions of credits per job."
Interesting. This is worth investigation. Chowa rises and strides toward the registration office.
000
If there's one group of people Samus enjoys dealing with less than military fanboys and girls, it's other bounty hunters. The only time she ever runs into them outside of places like this is when they're trying to kill her. And the ones that don't want her dead either loathe her or want to be her.
She talks back and forth with the registrar about setting things up for her crew. "No, I haven't finalized the number of people on the crew yet. I'm just here to settle the fees for their individual registration up front and log my new ship with their names attached."
"It would be more effective to come back once you have your entire team settled," the registrar states in a droning voice.
"I'm here now. I want to get this out of the way ahead of time."
"I see. Does your potential team consist of registered Galactic Federation citizens?" the registrar asks. His noncommittal attitude is par for the course of bureaucratic civil servants.
"Yes, all of them will be."
"And how many of them are there?"
"Currently two."
"Give me one moment."
He turns his attention to the computer in front of him. Samus waits, pretending she can't feel eyes boring into the back of her head. A minor change in the way sound reaches her alerts her to a presence just behind her. She turns, expecting to see someone waiting in line, and is surprised to see a pitch-skinned Vorminian looming above her, long neck arcing over her, staring intently. It's unusual that she runs into someone taller than her, even among other civil species.
"Do you need something?" she asks, a faint edge to her tone. The intense look they're giving her is unsettling.
"Yes. I had a question, Samus Aran. Several of the hunters here claim you are forming a crew. Is this true?" they inquire.
"I don't see how that's your business," she replies defensively.
"My name is Chowa Wuulaka," Chowa states, bowing with closed eyes. Despite the gesture, their head still doesn't dip under Samus'. "I am an accomplished bounty hunter. I have worked with teams and alone for the past several decades. Other hunters say you acquire very lucrative and exclusive contracts. I am interested in working with you, if you are truly forming a crew."
She's stunned silent. She observes the Vorminian, half annoyed, half intrigued. It's rare to see a lone Egenoid out on their own in Federation space. The last one she encountered tried to kill her and someone close to her. Her gut reaction is to refuse them... however, there's something in this one's demeanor that speaks to her. "... what skills do you have?"
"My people are commonly associated with our talents in stealth and reconnaissance."
"That's not what I asked. What skills do you have?" she reiterates.
Chowa pauses and reevaluates their statement. "I previously served in the Egenoid hierarchal military as an intelligence operative. I have operated in a military or bounty hunting capacity for over thirty Federation standard years. I can lift roughly one thousand standard pounds, have senses far keener than your average human, and specialize in infiltration and close quarters combat."
Samus stares at them, looking them up and down warily, evaluating them. She doesn't think they're lying... but senses tension in their tone. She refocuses on the point of their conversation. "I only intended to recruit people I know. The rest of my crew will be human. Why should I take on someone from a region of space hostile to my kind, let alone a complete stranger?"
"I will gladly expose my entire professional history to you, Samus Aran, if that puts your mind at ease. No part of my past is a secret I am unwilling to share."
"Then let's start with why you want to join me to begin with."
"I... I am getting too old for dangerous work like this. When I came to Federation space, I had already lost everything my prior life earned me. I had to build a new life, and it has not been fruitful. To put it bluntly, I need money. And you, as I have heard, are quite successful in that regard."
Money. Of course. Any bounty hunter would want to work with her for the payout. While she can't claim it with certainty, she's sure she's the top paid hunter in Federation space. Yet a few things stick out in Chowa's story; losing their former life, and the shirt they're wearing... for any other species, that article of clothing would be unassuming. But for an Egenoid race...
"You're an exile."
"I... yes." Despite being an alien, their expression is simple enough to read. Shame.
They both fall silent. Samus turns away from Chowa, facing the registrar's desk. Their heart sinks. Of course. Upon learning that, anyone would turn them away. They prepare to leave, however what Samus says next stops them.
"I need to update the number of crewmen I'm registering."
000
Dr. Jha's eyes widen with surprise. "A Vorminian. How unexpected. I remember the final years of the War of Tides, at the time they were not particularly friendly with humans."
"I know. But I had to round out the team. One person isn't enough, especially if I have to operate separately from them. But when I went to see my second pick... this is where things got complicated."
000
Finally, his assignment is over. Michael Struthers stretches wide, letting out a massive yawn as he walks down the city street toward his apartment building. J-VS 67 is a fairly deserted colony out in the middle of Federation space. Very few people care to live here given how arid it is planetwide, and it doesn't have much in the way of creature comforts. Supply freighters bring in goods once a month and their selection would make most average Federation civvies unhappy.
But for a soldier like Michael, what appeals the most about this planet is the quality of the people on it. Honest people who keep to themselves but form real, lasting bonds with their neighbors. People who aren't afraid of a harder life that gives them relative solitude and a few good friends.
He turns onto his home street and sighs, getting his card key out ahead of time to unlock the door. Michael flips it deftly back and forth in his cyborg hand with deft precision; he's gotten very used to the new appendage in the past few months. Almost like he never lost the arm at all. After a long day of debriefing, he's looking forward to getting a little quality time to himself.
As Michael approaches his front door, an older neighbor, the apartment manager, hangs out on the patio walkway and waves at him. "Hey Michael, why didn't you ever say you had such a hot girlfriend?"
Michael's laugh booms with hearty candor. "Okay, what's the punchline?"
His neighbor looks at him in confusion. "What are you talking about? You know, the girl with the key to your apartment!"
Michael stops smiling. "... what?"
"The blonde lady! Tall, pretty? She's been inside your place for like half an hour now waiting for you!"
"Ah... right. Sorry, we just started dating. Didn't wanna go jinxing things."
"Awright. Makes sense. Well, enjoy 'er while you got 'er!" the old man says with a laugh, going back into his apartment.
Michael unlocks his front door without opening it and pulls a personal sidearm from within his jacket. He takes cover behind the wall beside the door, then throws it open. When nothing happens, he leans in gun first, spying with one gleaming red eye past the doorframe.
The apartment is dark and silent. Michael walks inside, slow and cautious, looking for any sign of movement or sound, only seeing an empty living room. A shelf with some personal items, a couch, and a small table are all that's here. There's a tinkling sound coming from his kitchen. He presses up against the corner wall, then rounds it, gun drawn-
"Wait a second... Samus?" He drops his gun and walks in, holstering his firearm. "The hell are you doing? How did you get a key to get in here?"
Samus stands at his kitchen counter, sipping a warm cup of coffee she just fabricated. It's strange seeing her in civilian clothes. She wears a thick-looking jacket despite the fair temperature outside.
"Your management here is bad at their job. Or manager, I guess. Really lax. Said I was here to see you and he started assuming I was your girlfriend and I was here to surprise you after your tour. Honestly made a lot of lewd comments and assumptions." She blows on her coffee to cool it down.
"Of course. Sorry about him. He's mostly harmless. Still, didn't have to break in." He moves over to his fridge and grabs a beer from a depleted six pack. It's old, but he doesn't care. Any concerns about her intrusion leave his mind.
"It was cold outside." She turns around, leaning back against the counter to face him as he pulls the cap off his drink with his metal hand. "I'm building a team. I came to ask you to be on it. As of the moment, I'm lacking an experienced combat veteran."
He takes a deep swig. "Well, that's the last thing I expected to hear. And I'm sorry to turn you down."
"Hear me out. It's going to be a small team. I can take care of all the hunter registration fees, and with your experience, you'll automatically pass the vetting process-"
"Nah, I'm good. Though I appreciate you thinking of me," Michael answers, kind but firm. He walks past her into his living room.
"The pay is better than anything you'll get in the GFA-"
"Samus," he interrupts more forcefully, turning around and placing his beer down on the kitchen counter. "There is nothing you could offer me that would convince me to become a bounty hunter. I already know what I'm doing next."
Her shoulders fall. "What is that?"
He smiles wide. "I'm taking the career path. Gonna finally get a degree and make officer."
Samus returns his smile despite her disappointment. "You're gonna go far."
He nods and raises his eyebrows as he prepares another swig. "Oh, I know it." A thought occurs to him mid drink, and he brings the bottle back down in front of him, considering if he should voice it. "You know... there is someone I know who would probably make a better candidate than me. I'm not too proud to say he's a better soldier than me by a pretty wide degree, despite some behavioral issues."
"Oh? And who is that?" Samus takes a sip of her coffee. No one comes to mind. He gives her a knowing look over his shades, eyebrows held high and mouth pursed shut. Her expression instantly hardens. "Oh no, absolutely not."
"Look, I don't know what happened between you two, but all he's said to me is that he did something stupid and takes responsibility for it. I'm not gonna sit here and make you take him, but if you're looking for someone who has the training, the experience, and is looking for a change in career, Arrande fits the bill pretty well. And I know he's trying to find work that will be flexible with his needs, so he's not going back to the GFA."
Samus leans back against the counter and sets her cup there, crossing her arms and scowling ahead. "He crossed a line. I don't trust him."
"I believe you. He does that. But in the field, he'll have your back." He finishes his beer and tosses it into a nearby recycling receptacle. "He's living on the other side of the planet right now. And I know he'll say yes to you."
"Of course he will, he just wants-"
"He wants to make things up to you. Whatever happened between you, it still bothers him. And I know that man pretty well. If he's determined to make amends, he's as good as his word."
Samus grunts and picks her cup back up, glancing at him over the rim once in silence, her face a tense scowl.
Michael continues. "I know he's got a difficult personality sometimes, but he's good in the field. Fantastic, actually. And he needs work just like this pretty badly right now."
"Why is that?" she asks, glaring with suspicion.
He looks away and adjusts his jaw. "Well... it's not my place to say."
"Then why doesn't he sign up for another assignment?" she presses.
"Come on, you know he won't pass for that at his age. They'll tell him to take officer track, and he can't do that right now."
"Why not?" she demands.
"Again, not my place. Look, I didn't want to pull this, but I'm asking you to do this as a personal favor. I stood by you up on the Izanagi, fresh off of losing an arm," he holds up his robotic prosthesis to illustrate his point. "Please. He needs this."
She looks away from him again, tightening her jaw. There's no chance. No chance in hell, not after the stunt he pulled.
000
God damn it.
They made a field trip of it, Samus bringing Michael along on the quick jaunt to the other side of J-VS 67.
Arrande opens the door to his meager suburban home, freezing in place once he sees Samus alongside his old friend. "... what the fuck is this? You told me you wanted to come over and discuss job opportunities."
Michael nods. "This is the opportunity. Came knockin' at my door today."
"He's here to make sure you don't make an ass of yourself. Again," Samus deadpans, hands in her jacket pockets and a cold, distant look in her eyes.
"Ah... well... please, come in, by all means," he hesitantly offers, stepping back and waving them in with an open arm.
000
Arrande sits in an armchair, legs spread wide and hands on the armrests. He occasionally taps his fingers against them as he looks between Samus and Michael. "So, a crew? Why? You've been a solo act since you left the GFA. What changed?"
Samus stands against the opposite wall, arms also folded in front of her, eyeing Arrande's every movement and facial twitch. "I have my own reasons. None of that matters to you. Are you in or out?"
His nose twitches as he inhales, thinking about her offer. "I don't see that one guy here. What was his name? Does he have something to do-"
Samus huffs and pushes off the wall, turning toward the door.
"Wait, nevermind! You're right, it doesn't matter." He's quick to change the subject. "So bounty hunting work... I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of it. But it seems risky to go it alone. I'm so used to my brothers having my back in the field. But on a team... especially a team with you!" Arrande exclaims, motioning to her. "Well... now that sounds like good money and a much safer job."
"It's not safe," Samus corrects with a glare, "Or do you not know how many exploding planets I've had to run from?"
Arrande raises his hands and lets out a forced chuckle. "Please, I didn't mean it as an insult. No, you're right. It's not safe work. But it doesn't hurt to consider it along such lines."
"You being considerate, that's a change of pace," she mutters, her voice thick with venom.
Michael stands between them in the middle of the living room, mouth shut, unwilling to interject.
"Fair point," Arrande concedes. A thoughtful look crosses his face. "So you would be my commanding officer...?"
Samus stares at him from under her brow. He withers a little under her glower. She sighs and pulls herself up from the wall. "I would be one of your commanding officers, the captain of the ship. You'll also be working under a fireteam leader directly. I've already recruited her."
She pulls closer to him, radiating menace and looming over him.
"But if I give you this chance... if you make one fuck up. Just. One. You're off my ship. If you disobey an order, you're gone. If you shirk your responsibilities on the ship, you're gone. If you so much as look at me in a way I don't like, you're gone."
She leans in close, placing her hands on the armrests of his chair, trapping him between her arms. The intensity in her eyes makes him shrink down into the seat, and her voice lowers to just above a whisper.
"You breathe even a word of any... old history... in passing, as a joke, by accident... you're gone. Clear?"
Arrande sits up straight, finding his ground again. "Yeah. Of course. Crystal," he agrees. "But before that-"
Samus prepares herself to hear the reason she needs to turn right back around and leave.
"You can be as angry as you like over what I said in that bar. I stepped out of line and I deserved what I got. But don't pretend for a second like I'm not exactly what you need for this team. I understand why you did what you did with me, and that means I know I've seen you at your lowest point, Samus. I never judged you for it, not even now. More than that, I gave you what you wanted. Don't think for a second the reason why went unnoticed. So yeah, if I'm going to take this job, I'm going to be a professional. I'll have to be, if I'm going to work around you."
She wasn't expecting that. Dressed down so thoroughly, she feels a begrudging respect for Arrande; it couldn't have been easy to say that to her face. But on some level, she understands what he's saying. She used him and treated him as disposable, and he apologized for it. In a sick way, it makes him the ideal soldier. She holds a firm stare at him. He meets it with equal intensity.
Samus looks back at Michael, who shrugs. She hates this. She doesn't want to do it. The thought of sharing a ship with someone who treated her so callously in the past is nauseating. But her eyes travel down to Michael's mechanical arm. She groans and shakes her head. "I shouldn't be doing this. I don't even know you well enough to be doing you favors."
Arrande interjects. "Hey, I'll beha-"
Samus' hand jumps up and covers Arrande's mouth without even turning to him. "Don't talk over me. Michael, he'd better be every bit as good as you say."
000
"Oh my. Well, while it is good of you to offer some forgiveness to those who have wronged you in the past, bringing him onto your crew may be... unwise." Dr. Jha rarely rebukes Samus' choices. Hearing her state her misgivings about recruiting Arrande gives her pause.
"Maybe. But if it turns out to be a bad idea, I'll find out soon enough, and then he won't be my problem anymore. And I think I made my terms firmly enough that I've maintained a sound position over him. That should help keep him in line."
"One can only hope. Well, it certainly seems like you have quite the capable crew. This is an enormous challenge for you, Samus. I'm proud of you for taking such a major step." The doctor beams, impressed with her patient. Ever since taking her on, Dr. Jha recognized the sheer fortitude of will the hunter possesses. Opening up is difficult for her, but her willingness to improve herself has been admirable.
"Thank you," Samus replies, a soft blush rising in her cheeks at the praise. "You've given me a lot to think about."
"Of course, my dear," Dr. Jha laughs. "Now then. We've discussed how you've recruited your new team. But what worries or concerns does this choice raise for you?"
"Actually, before we get to that, there's one other thing. I'm not finished recruiting everyone I want." Samus sits forward and folds her hands.
"Who else did you have in mind?" Dr. Jha asks.
"You."
Her eyes widen. "Me? But... I mean... thank you, but... I am no soldier."
"But you know soldiers. Through our talks, I've realized how helpful you've been to me. I want to make sure the entire crew has someone they can talk to since... well, I'm not great at that."
The doctor takes a moment to collect her thoughts. "Samus, I am an old woman. I gave up my days of gallivanting around the galaxy long ago. I'm settled. I know some peers who might be able to-"
Samus shakes her head. "I need it to be you. I know there will be some amount of danger involved, but you're a specialist in dealing with combatants."
"There are others-"
"And I've seen others before you. Ones Anthony recommended. You're the only one I'm still seeing. I trust you."
Dr. Jha looks surprised Samus would level such high praise at her. "I... I don't know what to say."
"Can you consider it?"
She says nothing, deep in thought.
"Doctor."
"Hm? Oh. I... Yes. Of course. I'll consider it."
000
Samus stands aboard the bridge of the Crosshair, her brand new crew ship. It's a good degree larger than her gunship, which is now locked to the top of the vessel. Hefty armor plating makes the ship less maneuverable but far better defended than the gunship. Several mounted cannons sit at every angle of the ship, displaying its power as a clear warning to any aggressors.
Samus checks the heading of the vessel, still in dock on Earth, prepped to leave. Sitting in the captain's chair, she wears one of the new crew uniforms she had produced. Rugged, shiny new combat boots with magnetic locks in the heels, just in case the G-diffuser ever gets damaged. She learned her lesson the last time someone shot her down. Tough but comfortable grey canvas pants, suitable for everyday wear. And just for her, the old, beaten, hunter green jacket she's held on to from her army days, her distinguishing marker setting her apart from the rest of the crew. Her cyan Zero Suit peeks out underneath the jacket, always ready to launch straight into danger.
Sitting behind a clear polycarbonate shield, looking out the forward viewport, Samus analyzes her surroundings. Her dock faces the GFA headquarters here on Earth. She recalls the first time she saw a view like this, the first time she came to Earth, ready to make her mark in the galaxy. She was young and naïve, but eager to set out into the unknown on a brand new adventure. Now, looking back on this same view again, she ponders the implications in this fresh new moment.
"I'm ready," she says to no one in particular.
"Captain?" she hears a voice from behind her. Clearing her throat, she rotates her seat around and stands on the elevated platform overlooking the bridge. Down the ramp before her, her crew stands assembled. She stands with her feet wide, shoulders back, hands clasped behind her, and addresses them one at a time, sweeping her gaze over each of them as she does so.
"Lieutenant Adrian Vespen. Arrande Santino."
Samus maintains her composure as she looks them over, but searches Arrande's face for any sign he's not taking this as seriously as he should. If anything, it looks like he's trying too hard to stay on his best behavior. Perhaps he is taking this seriously. Vespen, by comparison, makes it look easy, standing stiff, staunch, and attentive.
"Chowa Wulaaka," she says, sweeping her gaze over to the tall Vorminian.
The custom uniform made for them stands out by comparison to the rest of the all-human crew, but looks sharp nonetheless. They stare with rapt attention at their new captain.
"And Dr. Kaia Jha," she finishes with a small smile, happy the good doctor elected to join them.
She smiles back, her posture far more relaxed than the rest of the crew, dressed in her own clothing by Samus' permission.
The four of them stand at attention, awaiting their captain's word. Samus feels warmth welling up inside of her. Is this nervousness? Excitement? After all the times she's braved the dark reaches of the cosmos alone, how she's lost that spark that sprung from the sense of new, wild exploration, is this what enlivens her again?
"I'd like to thank you all for joining me on this endeavor," she says, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "We'll be departing for the Typhon Expanse in a few minutes. Several shipping vessels have gone missing, and we've taken the bounty to investigate."
She pauses. Perhaps she should say something more meaningful to mark their maiden voyage.
"Many know my reputation. Precious few can say they know me or have been alongside me during a crisis. Some of you are among those few. I've chosen you because each of you shows your talent in your fields and can supplement my strengths or compensate for my weaknesses."
She steps down the ramp to the bridge's main platform.
"It's been some time since I worked with a team, and this is my first time commanding one of my own. I ask for patience from you as I adapt to this new challenge, but I demand your obedience when on mission. We will encounter both the familiar and the unknown out in the depths of the galaxy. Trust in my experience and I will get us through every obstacle."
Some of of the crew shift uncomfortably under her stark, stoic assertiveness. She stops, considering that maybe she's being too impersonal.
"However, this is not just about me. This is a chance for all of us to grow and evolve into better people, to discover and learn new things, to break ground in our respective fields and make names for ourselves. I know every one of you has the potential within you to make a lasting impact on our understanding of the galaxy and our place within it."
They all relax somewhat at that statement. Samus hides a smile to herself and returns to the captain's chair before turning back to face them.
"Now prepare for takeoff."
"Yes, captain!" Vespen responds with loud, clear respect. She heads to the navigator's seat before anyone else can move. The other members of the crew find their seats on a circular path surrounding the captain's platform, fastening themselves in. Samus takes her seat and pulls her chair forward toward the ship's piloting controls. Several holographic displays pop up before her, and mechanical steering and throttle mechanisms rise to meet her. She grasps them in both hands, feeling her pulse pounding in her chest. That rush, that feeling of expectation and exhilaration, cascades through her body. Everything feels new again.
"Lieutenant! How do the engines read?" she barks.
"All clear, Ma'am!" Vespen responds dutifully.
"Brace for takeoff." The engines behind the Crosshair roar to life, a surging noise that reverberates through the entire ship. Cones of atmospheric condensation form across the outside of the vessel as it accelerates higher into the sky. The feeling of the building thrust presses on the crew's bodies, then eases away as the G-diffuser kicks in. The vessel's upward arc gradually tilts until its path heads outward into the upper stratosphere, toward its destination.
Toward the new, the frightening, and the unknown.
00000
Chapter notes
If you have a moment, please consider answering one or both of these questions for me in a comment!
1. Are you able to follow the transitions between scenes well?
2. Do the motivations of each crew member joining the team feel strong?