Male Reader X

Reader x Samus Aran (Metroid)

It's a quiet day on the edge of civilized space. You are a Warrant Officer working at Hammerhead station, lazing about in his office and waiting for your client to arrive. Hammerhead is one of the few places in the galaxy to find company, though your main client isn't one for parties herself. Your computer lights up as her ship's ID is pinged by the station's sensors.

You observe through the window. The hangar clears out as a distinct and strange orange and red ship passes through the airlock, landing on one of the free spaces. You hop out of your chair and jog down the steps of your office, past the people vying for a chance to spot the legendary bounty hunter.

"Make way people, Warrant Officer coming through!"

The top of the ship splits opens, and a tall, armored figure emerges in a bout of pressurised air. She steps off the top and lands on the ground below with a heavy thud. You can already here the assembled spectators whispering gossip to each other. "Samus! Pleasure to see you again – you don't come around here too often."

Samus doesn't respond, her head turns to the onlookers. Years of working with her have taught you some of that arcane body-language, that she prefers to use over her vocal chords.

You cast a weary glance at the crowd of people watching, "Let's move this into my office, shall we?" Samus follows you back the way you came, up the stairs and into the enclosed space. She elects not to break your plastic guest seat by trying to sit on it in her power armor. She does reach up and undo the seal around her neck, removing the signature helmet and leaving it on the table. A waterfall of platinum blonde hair spills outwards.

"I heard you went hunting for some high value targets, command's been very happy with the readings we're getting back. You know how much work you've been making for me? It's not easy verifying all of these biometric details you know?" you crack a wry smile, though her picture-perfect face doesn't crack. You sigh.

"You really are unreadable sometimes, here." You dig through the towering pile of papers on your desk and hand her the notice of payment. A large dossier that lists out every wanted criminal captured and eliminated, combined together to show the total value. Samus opens the front of the beige binder and quickly scans through it, finding it satisfactory enough to restrain from any complaints.

Yes, you are a paper pusher. A paper pusher with a military rank and awesome pension. The majority of your time is spent writing reports, compiling data, and organizing pay-outs for the mercenaries hired by the Federation. You very rarely get to entertain a visit from one of your clients. Most of them are a little... crazy. Any chance to talk to someone on the job is a moment to relish, in your eyes.

You quickly set about finding your next task. Samus remains unmoving beside your desk, "Why did you decide to stop by?"

Samus thinks for a moment before responding tersely, "Resupply."

You nod, "I see. The market around here have gotten pretty bad recently. Space pirates hitting some big convoys, so those opportunists in the exchange have been cranking up the prices ever since."

Samus hovers by your desk, seemingly wanted to ask you something. But her nerves, usually cold as steel, get the better of her. She grabs her helmet and tucks it under her arm, "Thank you."

"No problem, see you later."

Samus leaves without another word. What was that all about?

You don't have much time or brain space to dedicate to thinking about it. You spend three more hours trying to eliminate as much menial work as possible before your shift ends. But every trail of papers seems to lead you back to your poor, abused printer. The pile is only getting bigger the deeper you dig.