Samus catches a train

The sirens wailed behind her, a cacophony of digital screeches that spurred Samus to run faster than she had in years. Her bare feet slapped rhythmically against the hot pavement, the vibrations traveling up her shins. She banked hard around a bubbling fountain, her hip checking the stone rim as she scrambled for traction. The security bots were relentless, their single red eyes burning with the singular purpose of detaining the "violent exhibitionist."

"Surrender immediately!" the lead bot broadcasted, its mechanical limbs clanking against the tiling as it scuttled over a bench like a metallic spider.

"Not a chance!" Samus shouted back, though the defiance was undercut by the fact that her voice wavered with exhaustion. She needed a plan. She needed a sanctuary. The smarmy voice of the kiosk AI echoed in her mind: Nudist Beach.

Samus grit her teeth. It was the only play she had left. If she made it to a designated nudity zone, technically, she wouldn't be breaking the law anymore. The bots would have to stand down. It was a humiliating tactical retreat, but it was better than being tackled and dragged away in irons—or worse, nets.

She spotted the glowing holographic signage ahead: PLANETARY TRANSIT STATION – SECTOR 7.

"Out of the way!" Samus bellowed, charging toward the escalators. A group of gelatinous alien tourists shrieked and waddled apart, clearing a path for the streak of creamy skin and blonde hair rocketing past them. Samus didn't slow down for the stairs; she vaulted the railing, her body fully extended in the air, before landing in a crouch on the platform level below. The impact sent a jiggle through her entire frame, a sensation she was growing increasingly **** to stop feeling.

The tram was there. A sleek, mag-lev bullet train hovering silently above the track.

"Step clear of the closing doors," a pleasant feminine voice announced. The heavy glass doors began to slide shut.

Samus didn't think. She sprinted. Behind her, the metallic scrabbling of the security bots grew louder, accompanied by the charging whine of stun-batons. She pushed off hard with her right foot, her calf muscle bulging, and launched herself through the narrowing gap. For a split second, she was airborne, a majestic, naked projectile.

She tucked her shoulder and rolled as she hit the floor of the tram, tumbling safely inside just as the doors hissed shut. A loud THUD resonated against the glass a second later—the lead bot face-planting against the barrier.

Samus lay on the cool, synthetic floor, her chest heaving violently. Sweat slicked her skin, making her glimmer under the harsh fluorescent lights of the carriage. She closed her eyes, letting out a long, ragged exhale. She had made it. She was safe. The transit system was neutral territory; the bots couldn't stop the train.

"Target... lost," she panted, a weak smile tugging at her lips. "Mission... accomplished."

She pushed herself up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her sweaty forehead. "Alright, just need to find a dark corner to hide in until—"

Samus froze.

As she rose to her full height, the silence of the carriage pressed in on her. It wasn't empty. It wasn't even partially full. It was standing-room only.

The tram was packed to capacity with tourists heading between resorts. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on her. To her left, a family of four-eyed extraterrestrials stared, their ice cream cones melting onto their hands. To her right, a group of elderly human women in floral one-piece swimsuits gasped in unison, hands flying to their mouths. Directly in front of her, a businessman holding a briefcase looked as if his brain had short-circuited.

There were no seats. Every bench was occupied. The aisle was clogged with passengers.

Samus stood dead center in the crush, completely nude, her body illuminated by the unforgiving overhead lighting. She instinctively tried to cover herself, crossing her arms over her chest and clamping her thighs together, but her long limbs and athletic build made it impossible to hide much of anything. Her face burned with a heat that rivaled the lava monster she had killed earlier.

The tram lurched forward, accelerating rapidly.

"Whoa!" Samus yelped. With no hands free to grab a support pole, she stumbled, her bare shoulder squishing wetly against the businessman’s suit jacket. He stiffened, turning a shade of purple that defied medical science.

She recoiled, trying to find her balance as the train banked into a turn. The motion **** her to widen her stance to avoid falling, which defeated her attempt at modesty. The entire carriage seemed to hold its breath, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the soft squeak of Samus’s bare feet shifting on the floor.

"Is... is this the express to the nudist beach?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

Nobody answered. They just stared. Somewhere in the back, a camera shutter clicked.