| GCB Fanfics: The Fanfiction Project |
August 19th, 2003Preshow: "The Lion and the Hedgehog / Winning Hand" It seemed that every day, the Hero's Haunt was more empty than the day before, and tonight it was as empty as it had ever been. The sun had long since set, blackening the windows until they blended into the shadows along the walls. The place was silent save the clink of glasses behind the bar and the rhythmic shuffle of cards from the back. In the corner, at the endmost of the row of empty tables lit by lonely hanging lights, sat one of the three patrons of the bar. The emptier the Hero's Haunt was, the more likely one of the few inside was Squall Leonhart. The man sought out solitude almost aggressively, and these days there were few better places to be alone than a dark corner of the 'Haunt. Squall didn't eat the food in the bar, and rarely drank anything they had to offer--and that was when he was with Cloud and Aeris. Alone, Squall seemed reduced to a statue. Squall was sitting in brooding silence when something blue burst through the door. The blue blur skidded to a halt and leaped up to stand on a stool at the bar, slowing enough to be identifiable as Sonic the Hedgehog. "Hey, bartender, what's a guy gotta do just to get some water around here? I've been running all day, and it gets hot out there!" Sonic paused briefly, tapping his foot on the seat of the stool that had become his perch. "Hurry up!" The bartender mumbled something about how tap water was more popular than the beer tap these days, but did as he was asked. A swig of water later, Sonic was on the floor, dashing toward Squall's corner. "Whoa, Boring Black, almost didn't see ya there!" Sonic lied blatantly. Squall turned his head to look at the hedgehog, but made no reply. He stared out over his crossed arms at the hedgehog. "Guess you're worried about your big match tomorrow, huh." Sonic seemed perfectly willing to carry on a one-sided conversation, and Squall was perfectly willing to let him. "I'd be worried too, if I was you. That Samus, she's one tough lady! She's almost good enough to beat me," chattered Sonic as he paced back and forth in front of the table. "She did beat you," intoned Squall. He loathed unfounded arrogance. "What, last year? That? I lost on a technicality!" Sonic waved his arms in frustration. "It's not my fault she's so tall she even falls down in slow motion!" Squall buried his face in his palm and shook his head slowly. "Man, we hit each other and it was like, BOOM! And I knew I'd beat her, see, 'cause it felt just like whooping on one of Robuttnik's robot dudes... 'cept she's a chick... and not a robot... Anyway, I knew it was over," Sonic rambled. Squall's face showed no sign of making a reappearance from his palm. "And I was tired, so I was like, 'man, I'm done with this,' and I lay down. "Now you know me, Boring Black,"--Squall didn't, and didn't want to--"when I'm gonna lie down, I just do it. So I hit the dirt, and everyone's all 'whoo, Samus wins!' and I'm like, 'what?' so I open my eyes, and BAM! That's when she falls down next to me." Sonic opened his arms wide in a pleading gesture. "I mean come on! How hard is it to just hurry up and fall over!? I guess her seven-foot-tall butt was so far away from it, she couldn't find the ground." "Did you have a point?" asked Squall when the hedgehog had finished his tirade. "Yeesh, what a downer. All I was gonna say was you'd better be in your best shape when you're up against her, man. Sitting here thinking about it isn't gonna do much for ya. Come on, I'll race ya over to the arena!" Squall didn't budge. "Go on... I'll catch up." "Whatever, man. Later!" Sonic sped out the door. Squall leaned back in his seat, having no intention of following through on his promise. He had been through his training regimen for the day. He was ready to meet his fate head-on. Squall's gaze drifted to the back of the bar, where his soon-to-be opponent sat immersed in her card game. The recently restored silence was broken by the faint ripping sound of a riffle shuffle. ---- "Seven-card stud's the game," rasped Solid Snake, shifting in his seat. "What, not five-card draw again?" Samus kept her voice low as well. She too had been coming to the Hero's Haunt with increasing frequency. "Nah. The pot doesn't get big enough with just two of us... it's time we did something a bit more risky." The poker table, as it had come to be called, was as sparsely populated as the 'Haunt itself. Of the mixture of daredevils and card-counters that frequented the table in the back corner of the bar, two of the latter were the only players tonight. Many of the regulars had already been defeated, most recently the flashy and high-bidding Dante. The two at the table tried their best not to think about what had happened to the demon hunter. Where Vercetti was tonight, God only knew, and that left only the red-haired secret agent and the blonde bounty hunter to keep the cards shuffled. There were two kinds of talk at the poker table: combat and cardplay. Actually, upon listening to it, one would more likely conclude that it was a single kind of talk with two subjects. Conversation, when there was one, shifted fluidly between the two. Samus lifted the corners of her two face-down cards and reached for her chips. The ace and jack of diamonds, not a bad start at all. Snake glanced at his own cards and quietly called her opening bid. Snake flipped a face-up card from the deck to Samus, and one to himself. Hers was the jack of clubs, his the deuce of hearts. "Thinking about your match with that kid tomorrow, aren't you," muttered Snake as Samus contemplated her bid. The bounty hunter hadn't played at the table enough to know whether Snake was asking honestly or whether this was some form of gamesmanship. But he read my mind. "Yeah, but it shouldn't be so hard." Samus dropped a few more chips into the pile. Snake followed suit. Snake dealt a second face-up card to each. Samus got the three of diamonds, Snake the seven of spades. "Don't sell the kid short. If it wasn't for me, he might've been a real threat last year. Jack bets." A pair of jacks, three diamonds. Looking good. "Check." "Check," said Snake, dealing Samus the nine of diamonds and himself the six of clubs. One more diamond... but I wouldn't want to scare him off. Samus dropped another modest handful of chips into the pool. "I'll see your ten and raise you fifty." Snake stared at Samus as he said this. What? This is a bluff, and a bad one at that. He's got nothing. Is he trying to lose so we break even if I go home tomorrow? Doesn't he know I wouldn't bet on four to a flush without something else as well? Samus met Snake's raise, turning back to the topic of conversation. "But who's he beaten to get here? Whats-her-name, Duke's girlfriend," the pair both smirked at this, "and some plumber? And people didn't even expect him to do that? I'm not impressed." Snake flipped Samus the four of diamonds and himself the ten. "That plumber's brother made the finals last year, they tell me. You were there, weren't you watching? And Valentine didn't do any better against this kid than she did against the champ. Got your flush yet?" Yes, I do. But let's see if I can't milk you for a bit more. I do appreciate the gesture, losing it all back to me, very chivalrous and all, but I'll be here again tomorrow night. I don't need your pity. Samus said nothing, and put another handful into the pool. "Raise you to a hundred," said Snake nonchalantly. I know you're bluffing. Why do you do this to yourself? thought Samus, seeing his raise. "Seventh street, end of the line," said Snake, dealing the final card face-down. Samus received the seven of hearts. "Jack still bets." He probably doesn't even have the sevens! Well, he's only come this far because I haven't bid high enough to scare him off. Let's see if he knows what's good for him. "Check." Snake looked at his opponent's pile of chips. "Well, I'd better leave you some pocket change for M-Mart. I'll go seventy short of all in." You've been bluffing since the beginning, and that's not going to scare me. "Call," said Samus, pushing most of her stack into the ring of light the lamp overhead made in the center of the table and revealing her face down cards. "Flush, ace high." "I would've been disappointed if it was any less," Snake said. The stealth operative took a drag on his cigarette with one hand and dropped his hidden cards face-up with the other. The deuces of spades, diamonds, and clubs landed in a neat fan next to his deuce of hearts on the table. "Next time, keep your head in the game." Battle: "The Finest Money Can Buy" The drizzle that had lingered since the early morning hours had matured into a steady rain, soaking the great coliseum and its environs. A few loyal fans had taken their places in the stands, enduring the dampness to cheer their champions in the coming battle. The miserable conditions would have turned away all but the most determined of fighters from a match that was not their own--yet the only faces absent in the players' booth were those of Bowser and Aeris Gainsborough. Beneath the slate-gray sky, two competitors stared at each other across the broken dirt floor of the stadium. In minutes, any camaraderie they might have shared in the past weeks would be forgotten, pitted in unfelt but not unwilling enmity against one another. It was a situation to which both had become accustomed. At the eastern end of the great proving ground stood a black-clad man, stern-faced and distant: Squall Leonhart. Raised an orphan, a young Squall had always been reliant on the companionship of one and only one person--his sister, Ellone. When fate had conspired to take her from him also, he sunk into a depression that lasted throughout his youth. Life taught him friendship always ends in pain and separation, and he learned his lesson well. A mercenary by training, Squall's exceptional skill thrust him against his will into the most crucial of roles in the prevention of the Ascension of the Sorceress. Through his experience he came in time to appreciate companionship, and even love, though the previously stifled emotions still didn't come easily to him. Here in the contest, however, he felt at more at home than in his peaceful homeland. Without the friends he had come to rely on in his journey, especially Rinoa and "Sis," the old Squall had resurfaced, tempered by experience but resolute in its frigidity. The phrase that had become his childhood mantra rang truer than it ever had. In the end, you're on your own. That was why he had beaten the plumber. It wasn't about tactics, or SeeD training, or the myth people called luck. Luigi needed the approval, or at least the appreciation, of his brother, his steed, his girlfriend... Squall needed no one. The mercenary unholstered his weapon, a utilitarian merger of pistol and broadsword. His left hand went to the single non-functional adornment he wore. The ring he bore on a chain around his neck was fashioned in the likeness of a leonine monster, and its damp metal felt cold against his palm. He tucked it away lovingly in the soaked and flattened fur of his jacket collar. Opposite the SeeD towered the imposing anthropomorphic metal colossus that was Samus Aran, intergalactic bounty hunter. Samus was also an orphan, the sole survivor of a merciless bloodbath that depopulated her homeworld. At the time she was too young to remember, and had only heard of the attack as a story told by her saviors, the technologically supreme avian race known as the Chozo. During her youth among the birdlike beings, she had never known another human. Her fiery warrior's spirit and hardscrabble background were responsible for Samus' meteoric rise through the ranks of the Galactic Federation Police. Disillusionment with bureaucracy and Federation apathy toward the particularly vicious breed of piracy that cost her biological family their lives led Samus to quit the police force just as abruptly. As a bounty hunter, she had the opportunity to pursue pirates in the poorly-regulated fringes of the galaxy. Upon arrival at the contest, Samus had become fast friends with fellow fighters Mega Man and Zero, whose technological savvy and overt goodwill reminded her instantly of her Chozo benefactors. Recently, though, she had found herself preferring the less invasive company of one with whom she herself could identify better: daring and battle-hardened covert ops agent Solid Snake. The full suit of body armor which Samus wore into combat was the pinnacle of Chozo military technology. Wearing it transformed her from a mere human such as Snake into a one-woman army, the famed and feared elite pirate hunter on the Federation payroll. Where Snake relied on stealth, Samus relied on the firepower and physical strength of the suit to augment her innate grasp of tactical combat. There was no job too hard, no quarry too dangerous for Samus Aran. And winning this contest was just another job. Samus checked to be sure her suit was operational at 100% efficiency one more time. She listened to the rain ring on the exterior of her armor like a muffled alarm bell, putting a voice to the pre-battle tension. Squall's stare matched the featureless visor of his opponent in emotionlessness as he nodded his readiness to begin the fight. The hand at his chest rose to his face, not in his standard mannerism of annoyance but instead covering the mouth with the flat of the palm. His eyes peered over his fingertips through the rain as he watched Samus give her answering nod. This was a matter of honor, of pride, of duty. The crowd was as distant as their homelands--for the two fighters, there was only each other. Samus raised her weapon swiftly to fire a quick blast at Squall. The mercenary lifted his gunblade to deflect the shot as he flicked his left hand from his face, extending his arm palm-forward toward Samus. Wisps of black smoke streamed past Samus' shot, borne by an artificial wind that whispered "Pain" in imitation of Squall's voice. As the bounty hunter's initial attack broke against the flat of the gunblade, the magical trails of smoke widened and coiled into a great lightless cloud enveloping her head and torso. Samus' vision, even aided by the mechanical enhancements in her helmet, was nothing but blackness. Then swooping out of the inky dark that had blinded her came a pair of bright specks. On instinct, Samus ducked, and she caught a glimpse of serrated black snake-like fangs slash over her head, their tips sparkling with a cold light. One scraped along the top of her helmet, leaving a trail of bilious venom that washed away in the rain. This had all happened in little more than a second. Squall had only taken the first few strides of his dash to close the distance between the combatants when his foe sped out of the inky cloud, tearing a hole in the opaque magical construct. She was curled into a compact ball and accelerating to an incredible speed, throwing up a wake of mud and water. Squall lowered his gunblade by his side and gripped it with both hands, preparing for an upward arcing slash that would cleave his opponent in two. The tip of the weapon slipped along the ground as it had before Squall had drawn first blood from his longtime rival with the same stroke in the Garden where he was raised. Where Seifer had been too intent on the offense to protect himself however, Samus was far more clever. She veered across Squall's path as his attack met nothing but air, dropping a flashing spherical bomb at his feet. Squall had seen the explosive devices Samus used in battle and in training, and was not fooled by the innocuous appearance of the thing she had deposited as she hurtled past. Using the momentum from his failed sprinting slash, Squall planted his right foot and spun around, kicking the bomb with the left foot as he did so. Samus rose from her roll to find her bomb bouncing to a rest next to her. The round package went off with a brilliant flash and a thunderous boom, making a small blackened crater in the field. The Chozo armor was built not just to handle explosive blasts, but to make use of them. Even at such proximity, the detonation was harmless. Samus suffered no damage, but was knocked backward and blinded by the spray of dirt and smoke. Knowing her opponent would surely be attempting to close with her again, she fired a salvo of missiles in the direction from which she expected his charge. Squall half-ran, half-crawled along the ground, keeping his head low and dragging his gunblade through the dirt. The bounty hunter's missile fire scorched over his head, the projectiles erupting in clouds of flame and smoke against the ground behind him. Squall rose to his feet and dashed at full speed. Samus wiped her visor clean only to be greeted by the sight of the charging SeeD bringing down his gunblade and yelling a battle cry that was drowned in the rumbles of the explosions whose round, fiery clouds served as a backdrop. The bounty hunter raised her weapon quickly, with the intention of answering the inescapable blow with a missile to her opponent's stomach. Squall's gunblade swung downward, biting into the metallic exoskeleton of the power suit. The harsh, high-pitched clang of metal on metal rang throughout the stadium. The weapon, sharp and deadly against most armor, had failed to penetrate the Chozo power suit. As the gunblade came to a rest lodged in the upper arm of the suit, Samus fired her counterattack and Squall pulled the trigger. The percussive force of Squall's attack sent a shudder through Samus' suit that echoed in her bones. The jolt to her arm, where the gunblade had driven into the armor, threw her aim off badly. The missile intended to blast the SeeD's torso flew wildly aside, straight for the stadium wall. Squall tried to jump forward, but he was too slow and his opponent blocked his way. The errant missile exploded with deadly force against the wall at the mercenary's back. Tongues of flame and the blast wave from the explosion struck Squall's unprotected back at the same instant. The force was equivalent to a brutal blow from Ganon's hammer, throwing the SeeD into the air and setting his soaked jacket ablaze. Bits of the wall, blown free by the detonation of the missile, ripped through the thin fabric and embedded themselves in Squall's flesh. Before the blast, Squall had been positioned directly between Samus and the explosion, shielding her bodily from the brunt of the punishment his back now suffered. Squall was dimly aware, through the blinding pain, of being launched into his opponent, toppling her and flinging himself back out toward the center of the battlefield. Squall landed face-first with an awkward thump, barely clinging to consciousness. He crawled over the lip and slid down the muddy slope into one of the craters formed by Samus' earlier attack, seeking what shelter it provided. The cooling rain washed the wounds on his back, but did little to alleviate the pain. Squall brought his hand to his mouth to cast another spell. "Curaga," he forced out between clenched teeth, unsurprised to see his hand redden with flecks of blood he spat along with the incantation into it. Squall raised his hand feebly, seemingly tossing the word over his shoulder. His vision still swam and his breath was still short, but the pain was diminished. Meanwhile, Samus rose to her feet. The front of her suit was only cosmetically damaged from the blast, in part thanks to Squall serving as a human shield. The gaudy yellow and orange that had been obvious, even through the storm, to the few spectators was now grayed out and mud-caked, but the suit was still functioning at near-peak effectiveness. She spun around, expecting to see her opponent enfeebled if not defeated. She saw no one. Samus surveyed the turf, once level but now torn by the ravages of this battle and those before. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Keep your head in the game, she told herself. You've seen this guy come back from the dead before. The bounty hunter crept sideways cautiously as she charged her wave beam, expecting an ambush attempt at any moment from behind the natural cover. Samus had the advantage of height, and Squall knew it. It would not be long before she had found his hiding place; the lip of the crater was neither tall nor thick. He readied another magical assault, undaunted by the seeming impenetrability of his enemy's armor. Squall listened for the whirring sound of the mechanized joints of the suit to locate the bounty hunter. Out the corner of her eye, Samus caught a flicker of motion and quickly turned to face it. She briefly saw the scarred visage of her opponent peering over the lip of one of the many blast craters. Again his palm was raised as if in a deceitful display of peace. For an instant, through the rain and the translucent green faceplate, the two fighters' gazes met. There was an understanding in their stares, the knowing grimness of those for whom war is an occupation. Two combatants, a mercenary and a bounty hunter, who would once have merely fought for the highest bidder but who had since come to appreciate the difference between just and unjust causes, glared with purpose at one another. In another world, I might have trusted my life to one such as you. The moment flashed by as Samus instinctively fired her gun into the pulsating whirlwind of energy that burst forth from Squall's hand. She thought she heard the word "Meltdown" rumble ominously on the wind as the pinkish cloud of energy washed over her. Squall had raised his gunblade to ward off the snaking discharge of the wave beam, but it was of no use. His yell harmonized with the sizzle of the electric pulse grounding itself through his weapon, his arm, and his body. Warnings flashed by on Samus' visor, superimposed over her view of Squall falling back into the burnt basin of the blast crater. WARNING: Toxic Radiation Levels WARNING: Power Suit Structurally Compromised The first alert faded as quickly as it had appeared, to Samus' relief, but the second lingered. Whatever her opponent had done, it had apparently been effective. Squall seemed in no position to capitalize on this though. Samus strode forward, leveling her gun at her prostrate foe, prepared to force his surrender or his demise. We are two of a kind. He will give no quarter, and expect none. She was caught completely by surprise. Squall flipped to his feet and leaped into the air in one fluid motion, channeling the anger and the pain he had thus far endured into an offensive strike at once physical and magical. His gunblade gleamed despite the lack of sunlight as he lifted it high over his shoulder. Samus' reacting fire passed harmlessly below him. Squall brought his gunblade around in a great arc as he fell from the sky toward the bounty hunter, rending a hole in the air itself. A shockwave thundered toward Samus, throwing her from her feet. Squall pulled the trigger, and flames erupted from the tear he had sliced in reality. A ring of fire blossomed outward from the circle his blade had carved in the air, engulfing the stadium floor. The SeeD landed on his feet as a thunderclap signaled the sealing of the wound in the sky. Samus rolled on the ground to extinguish the flames, feeling her suit give uncharacteristically under her weight and its own as she did so. The bounty hunter was back on her knees as Squall charged with renewed vigor, swinging his weapon in a horizontal arc. She aimed low, hoping to break the charge. His swipe, aimed for her head, connected with her right shoulderpad. The gunblade cut through the weakened metal effortlessly. What before had been a nearly impenetrable reinforced metal structure, the pride of Chozo engineering, was now reduced to a leathery sheath that offered little resistance to the SeeD's weapon of choice. WARNING: Suit Breached Samus watched as the rounded shoulder of her suit peeled off and rolled into the dust, feeling the strange sensation of rain on her flesh. She felt the blade graze her shoulder, wincing in expectation of a gunshot blast that never came. Her shot struck home as Squall had cleaved the armor from her shoulder. Instead of following through with his attack, the mercenary pitched forward as the blast seared his ankle and knocked his foot out from under him. Squall would have fallen chest-first onto his opponent's gun-arm, but he thrust his hand out to break his fall. He grabbed onto the exposed and blood-slicked shoulder of his opponent. Samus had her opponent practically falling into her lap, and she twisted her arm around to fire the incapacitating shot. Squall, aware of the danger and of his opportunity, shut his eyes in concentration. Samus felt his hand clamp down on her shoulder as he whispered, "Firaga." ALERT: Internal Damage--non-essential systems offline Pain wracked the bounty hunter's body. Raging orange flame roared from the palm and fingers of Squall, which felt like a cattle brand on her shoulder. The opening in her armor had proven disastrous. Fire rushed in through the breach, burning down the side of her body within the suit. The same armor designed so effectively to keep harmful elements out was now serving to trap them inside, and Samus suffered the full agonizing energy of Squall's magical conflagration. A crippled Squall limped to his feet as a scream escaped the confines of his opponent's armor-turned-oven. Samus fell backward into the mud in a contorted position, favoring her right side. Squall leveled his gunblade to the bounty hunter's face, preparing to force her surrender. Samus was not finished. Her gun arm, thought burnt from within, was still functional. No... I can't...lose... As Squall opened his mouth to demand she acknowledge his victory, Samus fired a desperate attack. A missile rocketed from the barrel, catching Squall completely off-guard. The projectile detonated against his stomach with a muffled blast, a freezing cold numbing the pain of the wound. Squall was thrown high, landing on his injured back. There was a pain in his stomach, frozen to a dull ache by the icy casing in which Samus' ice missile had sealed his lower body. The mercenary didn't dare inspect the damage. Samus pulled herself to the cover of a rocky projection jabbing out of the ground, artifact of some previous battle. She was no stranger to pain--she was the consummate survivor in a galactic backwater where kill or be killed was the way of daily life. The bounty hunter accessed her suit's spare energy tanks to begin repairs. As for myself, that will have to wait. Squall's spell seemed to have done damage at the molecular level, leaving her doubtful whether any meaningful progress could be made on repair before the end of the match. This will be over soon, one way or the other. He can't take much more... and neither can I. Squall was on his feet again, hobbled and frozen at the waist. He stared with fevered desperation through the pouring rain. There was no one to help him now and, had he been aware enough to understand it, he would have seen once again the folly of wishing that upon himself. There was only one thing on his mind now--swift victory. He knew he couldn't last much longer. Squall limped as fast as he was able toward the fallen bounty hunter, who looked nothing like the invincible metal titan that had stood before him at the beginning of the match. He felt his desire--no, his need--to win welling up in him, driving him like never before. Samus, in her weakened state, could only watch as Squall charged yet again. Where she often seemed a human trapped in a robotic body, he now gave the impression of a robot within a man's. In his face there was no emotion at all. He had reached his limit; the end was coming. She raised her arms in a feeble defense. Squall swung his gunblade wildly, the pistol firing at seemingly random intervals, only occasionally adding its intended bone-jarring force to a strike. The attack was, at best, barely worthy of a rookie's attempt at a Renzokuken, but against Squall's crippled opponent, it was effective. Most of his attacks missed, but where they connected, power suit and skin alike were sliced with ease. The barrage paused for a second, and there was not even recognition in Squall's face. Pain, desperation, fear, love--the combination had reduced him to a machinelike state. The SeeD raised his gunblade high. A powerful aura seemed to make it shine from within, and the blade followed a fully circular arc as, with one great lifting swipe, Squall knocked his opponent high into the air. Samus curled as best she could to survive the coming assault. Squall, on the strength of only one leg, leaped up to follow her into the sky. The gleaming gunblade whistled in stroke after stroke, muzzle flashes from the pistol reflecting off the clouds above like lightning. Samus used her arms and legs as shields to defend herself, the myriad gunblade swipes lacerating her limbs and driving her to the brink of unconsciousness. Squall's final strike was a vicious vertical overhead chop, sending the bounty hunter plummeting toward the ground below. Samus hit the ground hard, bouncing like a dead weight. She found herself staring upward at the SeeD falling blade-first toward her, the same chillingly blank expression on his face. She could feel the sticky wetness of blood pooling in her boot, undoubtedly from the deep gash cut into her thigh. She couldn't feel her left hand at all. Burning pain met any contact with the right side of her body. A memory flashed in the bounty hunter's mind, her final before defeat in the last year's tournament. Déjà vu. A black-clad swordsman was falling from the sky as she writhed in pain on the ground.... He had descended on her, with every passing second looking more and more like a ravenous Metroid parasite, the sole beings in the galaxy she had ever feared. She was powerless to stop the attack. Long, silver, knife-edged tentacles reached out....Powerless to stop...NO! Keep your head in the game! Snake's words rang in her head, sounding violently out of place in their almost-comical understatement. She had underestimated her enemy, and paid dearly, but yet... This attack could be used as an opportunity... Squall was nearly on her now--and she was on her feet. With all the strength left to her, Samus leaped into the air at her foe. She curled tightly, tucking her head between her knees and ignoring the pain as she prepared to intercept Squall in midair. The SeeD could not alter his descent, and the rolled form of Samus hit him. The plates of her armor fanned out as she flew toward him. Electric discharges leapt from tip to tip, crackling with raw energy. Samus appeared transformed into a flashing yellowish thunderhead. Every ridge of her suit was raised, every edge sharpened with deadly purpose. Samus whirled bodily into Squall, a spinning electrified thresher. The gunblade fell to the ground with a splash. Jets in Samus' boots fired over and over, propelling her again into the air with a short burst each time gravity threatened to end her attack. Squall was caught in a swirling frenzy of shredding plates and sizzling electrical jolts as he was carried through the air above the arena. At the wall of the stadium, the bounty hunter stopped her attack. Samus Aran fell to her hands and knees in the mud, her vision blackening. No thoughts of her upcoming battle against the champion crossed her mind, though some part of her was aware she had won. The ring of rain on metal, previously tense, now seemed calming. It had been there all along, and would continue to be. The body of Squall lay at the foot of the wall, legs crumpled under him, his arms spread-eagled in the mud. His bloodied clothes were shredded and his eyes open, staring up into the downpour. Electrical burns showed through the holes torn in his attire. Squall's gaping mouth could only noiselessly form the words, "Sis... I'm sorry," over and over. As the medical staff rushed to the aid of both fighters, Squall gingerly moved his left hand to his chest. His fingers tightened stiffly around cold, wet metal. I needed you, Rinoa. Aftermath: "The Face of a Fighter" The fight had gone off without a hitch, for once. No attempted acts of mass destruction, no bizarre transformations, and no corpses to mop up this time. The two fighters had both been rushed off for medical attention, but that was to be expected. The crowd probably would have been disappointed if they had not. The fighters themselves had no intention of giving up before their bodies forced them to, and so the battle had continued until it had nearly passed the point of no return. Squall and Samus were taken back for whatever physical and magical care the healers could offer. But Samus's wounds went far deeper... her suit was had taken a lot of damage, and had ruptured in several places. And she had a fight with the champion approaching... a champion who just yesterday had apparently revealed his true nature, with an attempted murder. It was none of the other fighter's concern of course, other than their own worries about being the next to fall to Link's sword. So technically that meant it wasn't Solid Snake's concern either. The former secret agent had made his way onto the ground floor, lurking in the shadows as the maintenance team began touching up the arena. Jets of water sprayed onto the ground, wiping away smears of blood so that they could be replaced by new ones for the next day. Robotic automations traveled in circles around the arena, sweeping up and purging whatever lay in their path. One of the machines making an outer circuit stopped next to him momentarily, twitching its sensors in its direction. "How many robots does it take to change a light bulb?" Snake commented to no one in particular. The robot blinked, its auditory sensors registering a human presence. It squirted a jet of water in the area around Snake, and scooted around him. Snake shook himself out quickly, more than a little annoyed at the robot's failure to feed him a line, as well as recognize what to do around a human. But he had little cause to complain... the little things had managed to clear away cracks, scorched concrete, and practically rebuild the structure overnight when they had to. Every day the arena looked more and more like a battlefield. The whole thing reeked with the chaotic energy of war. Hundreds of years before Snake's time, people had sat on hills to watch armies fight each other, cheering for one side or the other, depending upon their own mood swings. Apparently they didn't have any other forms of entertainment back then. And the crowd that was gathered here loved the destruction, the fierce pace of the battles... even when the most evil of the competitors achieved a bloody victory, they were quick to cheer him on. The battles were still unpredictable and chaotic... pitting two individuals against each other, leaving neither with any choice but to fight until one person capitulated, or was no longer capable of making any decisions at all. And to think, we all got ourselves into this willingly. Thinking we're the best. We're all the best at what we do. But straight battle like this without any catches or complications is no real test of what life is like. Thousands of years earlier still, gladiators had fought in an arena much like this one. Back then, a thumbs up or a thumbs down meant the difference between life and death. Here... apparently no one cared. The self-titled "good" fighters seemed to kill as often as their "evil" counterparts. They had all entered under the assumption that such minor things like death would be dealt with somehow, by the unseen management. But either way, that's no way to end a battle. Killing an opponent you beat in a contest is simply ridiculous. It suggests cowardice, it means you think they're a threat to you. Leaving them alive, you might create an enemy. Try to kill them, and fail... and you'll create a nemesis with a grudge they'll never forget until they return the favor. There seemed to be no logic to it all. Snake himself had beaten Squall without much difficulty, but the woman who had enough firepower to rival an army... she had not fared nearly as well. Ego didn't even enter the picture for Snake... he knew he couldn't take credit for a superior performance. They had just been two very different battles. Snake watched in disgust as a piece of Samus's suit made it into the path of a robot, and was turned into ashes with the rest of the waste created by the fight. There goes that idea... but she has to repair her suit as well as her body. The thing is, she may not be able to... and she'll need it if she wants to so much as stay alive. Snake grinded his teeth and growled to himself. Why do I care? Why do I bother? What has she ever done for me? Aside from graciously losing a few hands in poker. I didn't waste my time on any of the other fighters. Why Samus? Why her... Unbidden, a vision of the blonde haired woman with a smile on her face appeared before his eyes. He remembered what she had looked like when she was trying to pump him for information about Vercetti... even smiling so sweetly when she had won... Snake forced his attention back to reality as another robot tried to spray him with water. This is just ridiculous. Wake up and smell the plasma, Snake. She's practically half robot. She's another emotionless fighter, like you…. just like me... Snake found himself walking out of the arena, in the direction of the medical ward. At least it's no longer raining. I might as well get out of this place anyway. See what she's up to... I would have done the same for Max or Vercetti. Come to think of it, he had done the same for Vercetti, only his mafia friend had been unable to appreciate Snake's company. What else was new. The beds in the medical ward was empty. Snake overheard a couple nurses chatting about the dark magician who had failed to make an appearance to request their services. "He must have wanted to get out of here in a hurry. Don't know why, he seemed like..." Snake gestured for their attention impatiently. "Where are your patients?" "Oh, they were out some time ago. We're very good at what we do." Apparently between Snake's reflections and stealthy trip to the ward, he'd wasted enough time to ensure that Samus would have already left. Wonderful. So much for that idea... "The woman... do you know where she went?" "Samus? We healed her up... but her suit was in pretty bad shape. She said that if no one heard from her by tomorrow, we should look for a corpse in the training center." What the hell does that mean...? "Thanks." The nurses resumed their idle gossip, and Snake quickly made his way to the door. "Oh, Mr. Anaconda?" The second nurse whispered in her ear. "I mean, Mr. Snake?" Snake sighed. "What do you want?" "You are Mr. Snake then? Samus said to thank you for stopping by." Didn't think I was that predictable. Snake shrugged his shoulders and tried not to think about it too much. He knew whatever he said he'd be the topic of discussion pretty soon anyway. "Tell her thanks for not dying." Snake bolted through the door, letting it slam shut behind him. He began pacing himself, taking time to look at the grassy path he was following... Samus's damp metal footprints could be seen on the ground. I'd better not be too late... ---- Snake swung open the doors to the training center and peered into the enormous room. The facility was devoid of targets for once... Samus looked like she had set up a raised platform for a similar use to a medical bed. Snake cautiously paced towards it, practicing his stealth skills by not making a sound as his boots met the bare concrete floor. He could see Samus lying down on the platform, the rips in her suit evident... Snake squinted at the platform. The tear in her shoulder was still there, but he couldn't see anything underneath it. Snake halted his advance temporarily, unsure of what to make of the new situation. A purple blinking light began to flicker softly from on top of the suit, then speed up rapidly. "GET DOWN!!!" Snake rolled onto the ground, bracing himself against the wall. Years of combat training clicked into place as he threw his arms in front of his face. The bomb detonated several feet away from him, pouring destructive purple energy through the air. Snake felt himself pressed against the wall as his body warmed up from the heat. The blast grew until it hit a critical mass... but then it gradually began to subside, shrinking down into a purple speck, and then disappearing. Snake picked himself up, trying to calm his nerves and not act like he was in the middle of an all out gunfight. Samus had to be around here somewhere... The strikingly beautiful woman appeared in front of his vision almost before Snake sensed her presence. She was wearing a skin tight one-piece black leotard, that revealed her feminine form a little more clearly than her robotic shell. She carried herself with confidence, even if her motions seemed a bit out of place, like she was a stranger in her own body. Snake nodded at her. "Thanks for stopping by." Samus smiled at him. "Thanks, it's good to have a friend. I'm not even sure if MegaMan knows I could get injured..." she sighed suddenly and bit her lip. Snake watched her shake her hair out, and gracefully place one hand on her side, beckoning to him with her other palm. She was just so... Samus was smiling at him again. Snake suddenly realized he was staring. "Um, yeah, this is me. You act like you've never seen a woman out of her exo-skeleton before." Snake laughed softly, and forced his gaze onto the ground as he walked forward. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Samus smiled at him. "I thought you'd be more surprised to see the suit." She pointed to the elevated platform. Snake was surprised. The orange suit of armor had survived the explosion and repaired itself somehow, seemingly flawless again. "How...?" "It absorbs many kinds of energy. I used a technique with a power bomb to refuel it. Well, let's just say it worked, don't ask me to explain why." Samus walked over and patted the empty power suit on the head. "It almost seems like it's a living thing sometimes, a part of me. It's almost always been enough to beat whatever I was up against... and it was today, barely." Samus rolled her eyes and shook her head. "But what am I doing, complaining to you about all this. It's not like you haven't beaten Squall without any problems already." "He didn't give me as much of a fight as he did you. His heart wasn't in it. I think he wanted to win more against you. You fought very well... I'm not even sure I could have done better." Snake felt his normal composure returning as he spoke, thinking back to his own experiences. "You kept fighting, and you won. That's the important thing. You just have to make your next fight the one to remember." Samus tilted her head to one side, peering in the direction of the door leading to the outside. "And things just got a whole lot interesting on that front. You saw him the other day?" Snake nodded. "Yeah. We all did. A couple of the sword fighters even tried to interfere, and something big was going down at the end. Whatever it is, it's not good though... for any of us." "Yeah. It's my problem though, don't worry it. I can take care of myself." The blonde haired woman picked a bag off of the floor, and began loading weapon modules into her suit, choosing not to continue her line of conversation. Shut yourself away. Lose yourself in your work, stick to fighting, where you just have to survive. It's what we all do... Snake caught himself again, forcing himself to stop staring at Samus. "I'll look into it if I can. Take care. Of yourself." "Always have." Snake took the silence and resumption of Samus's work as his cue for an exit. It wasn't like he didn't have enough to worry about with his own opponent this round. But there were only 14 fighters left... he needed whatever friends he could get, and having someone he could trust to any extent would be useful. His mind wandered back to Samus's outfit again... how could he have spent that much time with her, and been so oblivious to who she was outside of her armor? Or inside of her armor, rather. But that must be what she wants. Locking herself away like that. Snake forced himself to keep walking, and not invent another excuse to return to the training ward. At least it wasn't a totally wasted evening. And at least I didn't get totally wasted. Keeping that in mind, Snake opted to avoid the Hero's Haunt for the evening, and head straight for the mansion. He wanted to be wide awake for tomorrow... it was going to be quite a grudge match, that was for sure. Next Entry Back |