I parked my shuttle at The Drunken Kihunter, the last attraction of the mined-out asteroid, Pallas. The Sol System was, in a word, familiar to members of the Galactic Federation such as myself—but even then there are oft-forgotten corners like this one. Forgotten as it was, it certainly held some reputation, or at the very least, infamy. Still, I couldn't say it wasn't nostalgic—it reminded me of the days before I was a soldier. And after a long tour, times like that were all I wanted to think of.

Entering the asteroid-side bar, I was met with the familiar dull neon glow of its fixtures and the pungent smell of booze and smoke. The patrons, meanwhile, bustled amongst themselves in a din of alien chatters, whispers, and guffaws—although this was a human system, the visitors here told another story. The familiar Vhozon bartender—whose name a human tongue could never pronounce—slightly bowed his head at me as I came into view. Perhaps he recognized me after all this time.

I took a seat at the bar, and the Vhozon clicked at me inquisitively, curious as to where I'd been all this time.

"They had me out by Cylosis," I answered. "Can't say I miss it."

The Vhozon seemed to sigh in agreement before he clacked at me once again.

"The usual? Heh, I'm surprised you still remember. Nah, I think I'll need something a bit stronger," I exhaled.

Letting out a low whistle, the Vhozon nodded and began his craft. After a bit of mixing, he took a strange insectoid creature from under the counter and squeezed out some fluid from it as the last ingredient. I couldn't help but wince at the sight, but the bartender chittered reassuringly.

"Well... bottoms up," I resigned, and gulped down a swig. It was strong, as advertised, and tasted like some unholy mix of lemon, motor oil, and hot sauce.

I definitely got what I asked for. I took another painful sip, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted another human—an uncommon sight at a place like this. One that was tall, fit, blonde, amazonian... Wait, that's not just any ordinary human. it's... Samus? The Samus Aran? The legendary bounty hunter herself? If it weren't for the official briefings we've had on her, I'd have thought she was just a myth. Not only was she a famed warrior, but she was quite the stunner too. But, what was I thinking? I've got no chance with a gal like her, I thought. I was sure she got plenty of attention—and I was just a grunt that was out of her league ten times over.

Brushing away any sort of fantasies I had concocted, I returned to by drink dejectedly, content to merely sneak the occasional glance.

***

The night progressed onward, at a speed I wasn't quite sure of. I had little to do but idly chit-chat with the Zebesian who sat beside me. Some kind of Space Pirate turncoat, I dunno. We seemed pretty disinterested in each other in the first place.

Eventually, to my surprise, the Vhozon bartender slid me another drink, another glass of that weird bug-juice—one that I definitely didn't ask for, or at least, didn't remember asking for. I gave him a confused look, and he chirped, pointing a few barstools down at... Samus? No, there was no way. I peered over in her direction, and found her staring me down with a stoic expression. But as we locked eyes, she gave me a sly grin and winked.

I looked at the drink, and back to Samus. I pointed at it, then myself, as if to ask 'Was this for me?'

Samus smirked and nodded,