The man’s mind was racing. The figure was nothing short of terrifying. Even in the small screen of his data pad this new human looked massive. The dark armor and lack of a visible face didn’t help his nerves either.

“I am.” The tall things deep voice came through the microphone.

“Well… I’ve got something that can help you but… I can’t open this door to give it to you unless I’m certain that you don't mean to harm us.”

“Fair… bit of a predicament then huh?”

“Yea… you got any way to prove it?”

“Uh not really. My name’s Penelope Aster. I’m the security officer for the Blue Nebula. We were supposed to be delivering energy cells but… that has become somewhat complicated.”

“… Deag’s here?!”

“The Nebula is in orbit right now. We sent out a distress call.”

“Okay I’ve got the crew list here. Which means I’ve got your picture…”

Penelope’s eyes shot down the corridor quickly. Nothing was coming as far as she could see or hear. The planet’s atmosphere was breathable. Quickly her hands came up and slid her helmet up and off. One moment passed and then another before she slid the helmet back over her head and re-sealed it.

“Good?”

“I hope so…” The door lock clicked and it slid open.

She could see a small group of Tinsne and other aliens huddling behind crates at the far end of the bay. A slender Tinsne moved into the doorway.

“The faster you move the better I’m sure so take this,” he handed her a small chip, “It’s a maintenance override key. If they’ve managed to get control of the systems and lock things up this can get you through… Oh and there are four more of those monstrosities on the second level and another four on the third. The other one like you is in the control center.”

“Excellent. The frames that made it into town are scrap but stay here until things have cleared. Keep the door locked.”

The door slammed shut and locked.

“Yea that was the plan… No offence…”

Pen chuckled and moved back down the hallway.

The mechanic moved back to the huddled group and watched their unexpected savior methodically clear the opposite hallway and its bays before moving onto an elevator and climbing to the second floor. They witnessed a scene very similar to the one they’d just been watching. The lone figure was unfazed by the frames. She didn’t shake or freeze or panic at the gunfire. She only responded to their dreadful popping sound with her own.

Penelope swept through the frames with confidence and soon found herself standing in front of the control room door. She replaced the magazine in the rifle before moving to slip the maintenance key into the door. Before she could, however, the door unlocked on its own and a voice came through the console to its right.

“No need. There's no need to roll in here guns blazing. I can see I’m outmatched. You’ll see I’m unarmed when you come in. Not that it would do me much good… I’ve seen what that armor is good for and I haven’t got anything for it so…”

Pen knelt before the door and readied the rifle. With a quick tap the door slid open, and her vision scoured the room for threats. She noticed a rifle much like the one she was using on the floor just inside the doorway. Other than that, a man sat as nonchalantly as he could in a chair clearly not suited for humans. His hands were held out to the sides.

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He wore basic body armor that clung to a thicker frame. An open helmet sat atop his head. The colors of his gear weren’t quite right, though. Some were army green, some navy blue, and a few other pieces were mottled tans. They were clearly mismatched sets that had been thrown together to make a full kit.

“You move so much as a centimeter, and I put you down. The only reason you’re still breathing at all is because you will be answering some questions I have. Now, stand and spin around slowly.”

“No weapons. No tricks. Like I said, with that armor you’ve got a clear advantage.” He slowly spun in a circle.

He was telling the truth. Rifle magazines, a pistol, and a knife sat in a corner of the room. He had nothing else on him other than an odd small totem that hung from the back of his belt. Pen wasn’t able to get a great look at it. She kept her distance but eased somewhat.

“You know about this armor. I’m guessing it was for you?”

As she looked around the room more closely, she noticed a few poor Tinsne corpses. One of them had to be the one who contacted the Blue Nebula.

He sat again.

“It should have been but no. No, He says I’m not worthy of it. Apparently, there’s some difference between you and I... Scylla.”

“…” Even covered by the helmet he could see he struck a nerve.

“Oh yes, I know who you are. The ‘beast’ who slaughtered a small army. I mean no disrespect, I’m sure you’re good but I don’t think its much more than a person who got all the expensive toys.”

He, slowly, pulled the odd totem from his belt and began fiddling with it.

“Is that what you think?”

“It is… loose the armor, loose the guns? In a fair fight? I don’t think you’d do so well.”

“I can see why ‘they’ don’t think highly of you. The only impressive thing about you is your ego.”

“I could do exactly what you just did! You waltz through like nothing because you have the gear for it.”

“Not likely. Who’s they?”

“Very likely and why would I tell you?”

“Bullet through head remember?” She raised the rifle slightly.

“No… no I’m dead anyway for botching another mission, even if its not my fault. So, how’s this. A fair fight. You win and I’ll spill everything. You lose and I get to go back, armor clad, with proof I deserve the respect I’m owed.”

“You really think I’m going to trust you with that?”

“I mean it. No guns. No knives. No armor. Just fists.”

He stood and removed his helmet, throwing it away. His body armor followed until from the waist up it was nothing but old fatigues. Again, the totem became visible. Closer now, she could see what it was made of. A disgusting sight.

A loop of thin paracord adorned with alien ears or patches of skin in any case where the alien species in question didn’t have ears. It was like a sick parody of an old earth keychain.

He seemed to notice her attention lingering on it. He pulled it from his belt and held it up.

“Like it? A little project of mine. The newest addition came from the little friend of ours who managed to make it to the communications terminal.” He looked over to one of the dead Tinsne who did indeed seem to be missing a patch of skin.

Even though it should be impossible, the plain visored helmet Scylla wore seemed to convey an expression. Something about her stillness and the slight tilt of her head made a chill snake up Arthur’s spine.

“…You’re sick.”

“Come on, a couple of ears turns your stomach?”

“…Oh, fuck this.”

She set her rifle down and pulled her helmet off. She followed his example and in short order was only armored from the waist down.

Broad shoulders rolled and corded muscles flexed as she adjusted to the freedom.

Her cold glare was clear without a helmet to obscure it.

Arthur grinned and dropped into a fighting stance. He began moving left and right. Slowly he edged towards Scylla.

The only part of her that moved were her eyes, following him acutely. The rest of her was near motionless. Her arms were down by her sides and her body faced forward. Her chest rose and fell slowly with her breathing.

After a few moments moving and positioning Arthur surged forward. A right hook shot towards Scylla’s face.

Her fist collided with the space between his nose and his left cheek.

“AH!” He yelled.

Wha?

Pain made it hard to think but the sequence of events finally came to him. It seemed almost instant but her right arm had come up under his punch and redirected his momentum out to her side. Her left hand followed suit, clasping around his wrist, and continued to push the hook out and down. Finally, her right hand snapped forward. Her knuckles settled just left of his nose and the force sent his head reeling back. His body followed and he stumbled a good few feet before he managed to regain his balance.

He expected her to be rushing him. He even put his arms up preemptively but as the pain dulled and his focus came back to him, he saw that she hadn’t moved an inch. There she stood, body forward, hands at her side, motionless.

The only difference about her was an infuriating snide grin that now accompanied her cold glare.

“Hm.” She said, unimpressed.