Only the belt

"That belt, ma'am. Nothing too different than what you'd do at the airport, right? People used to use those as makeshift weapons, I understand," the soldier responded, keeping his rifle held across his chest in both hands.

Samus looked at his rifle, then back to his face, wearing a dubious frown. "You're telling me you'd consider this belt a weapon, when you're wearing power armor and carrying a rifle?"

"Heh. If the stories about you are true, Ms. Aran, it might be appropriate that I get the handicap," he chuckled, sounding a little smug. "But no, I'm not worried about you wrapping your fist with a buckle and punching my armor, respectfully. We're scanning for anything more discreet hidden there. In other words, bombs, listening devices, that sort of thing."

"And when are you going to be satisfied that I'm fully clean?" she questioned, tilting her head slightly. It was hard to understand why the first checkpoint hadn't done a full search.

"Well, there are four security levels. Each of them have their own protocols. After that, I can't say whether the commander will have additional tasks for you. At any rate, might as well give me that belt," he instructed, shouldering his weapon and reaching one hand out.

Samus did have to agree with him on one point: she really might as well surrender the belt. It wasn't like it was serving any functional purpose, when the pants were already so small and tight that they hugged her hips without its aid. She unbuckled the front, unwrapped it from its loops around her slender waist, then handed it over. He accepted it, nodded, then lowered the security gate blocking her way.

"Is this all going like you pictured it, K?" she questioned, tapping one finger to her headset. To her surprise, a message came through.

"No... the gameshow ought to be more rigorous. The numbers aren't coming out like I'd hoped. This is the organizer teasing me."

"Gameshow? Numbers?"

No response.

Samus shook her head in confusion as she proceeded towards the third checkpoint. She saw what the soldier had been talking about: there were scientists walking around on this level, dressed sometimes in labcoats and other times sealed suits for hazardous material handling. Every now and then, an especially important one would walk by, escorted by guards in faux power armor. She didn't know how she felt, being seen in such a ridiculous costume by people that high up the totem pole.

"It couldn't be that I was called here as some sort of joke... could it?" she questioned out loud. K provided no answers.

Around the next corner, past the laboratories, waited another security checkpoint. This one wasn't just gated off-- it had what looked like a foot-thick blast door sealing it off. Evidently, it was intended that if someone made it through all the rank and file with heavy ordinance, this door would at least keep them from getting at the secret that the Federation contact had hinted at. Here, six guards were positioned, four with rifles and two others carrying stun prods. "Samus Aran, ma'am!" one of the prod-holders greeted her, moving forward and snapping a salute.

Again, no salute in response. She was getting sick of hearing her own name, too. At least this one seemed friendly enough. "Soldier. I'm needed past this security gate."

"O-Oh, yes! I've heard, ma'am! And we're going to get you right there, after we perform a special security check on that costume. It's being considered a class A anomaly, you've probably heard-"

"Class A?" she questioned, holding up one glove to inspect it more closely. "That serious?"

"Yes ma'am! There was a blackout... the security cameras have been acting strangely... it's all hard to explain. The only concrete outcome so far is that suit you're wearing. It defies explanation. It is very flattering on you, though! Respectfully. Ma'am."

Samus smiled slightly, hoping to get the rookie soldier to ease up. "They've put you on a strange first assignment, huh?"

"Sure have... Hey, I know you're busy, but would you mind signing something for me?"

"Maybe. Let's see how my mood is after you tell me what I'm surrendering for inspection this time," she finished, crossing her arms and regaining her usual, serious frown.

Roll 3!

Outfit durability: 23/28 (overshirt, sports top, shorts, boots, gloves, socks)