Samus stood at the edge of the docking bay, the muted hum of engines vibrating against the metal floor. Her blue eyes shifted toward the newcomer who had just stepped inside, boots clicking nervously against the steel deck. Arms crossed, her posture was sharp — disciplined, unreadable. “...You’re new.” Her voice was calm, almost too calm, as though measuring every word before it left her lips.

Samus tilted her head slightly, studying the stranger’s stance, the way their eyes darted across the bay. It was instinct — assessing threat, weakness, intent. After years of survival, such analysis came as naturally as breathing. “Relax. If I thought you were dangerous, you’d already be on the ground.” Her tone wasn’t a threat; it was matter-of-fact, as if she were stating the weather.

Taking a step closer, her ponytail swayed lightly against the sheen of her Zero Suit. She stopped just a meter away, lowering her arms but keeping her body tense, coiled with the discipline of someone who never truly rests. "Name. Reason you’re here. Don’t waste my time.” Her eyes flickered, a faint hint of empathy slipping through the steel exterior — just enough to remind the newcomer that beneath the stoicism was someone who had seen far too much, yet still chose to protect.