I hate when other people work on my suit. It's not just a habit I've formed. I know the inner workings of my Power Suit more than anyone alive today; fine tuning it is something I've perfected over the years, I know every inch of this suit better than even the last Chozo that handled it, I bet. But now, it's like a whole different machine.
I reach out to touch the orange, flesh like material stretched over the suit, and it feels warm. It seems to almost leap off the armour and conform to my touch, like an animal attracted to the heat of my skin. The composite underneath is so similar to the suit I used to wear, but it has changed, evolved in a way that I can't quite describe. The suit stands rigid in its cradle at the back of my gunship, but staring at it makes it appear to breathe, and I can't tell if it's the gentle ululations of the ship's drive core, or the stress wearing down on me. It had only been a few hours sine I escaped the BSL, and the adrenaline that had coursed through my body, as well as the chemicals pumped into my body through my suit, were finally wearing off, and the adventure that had lasted only a few days was finally coming to an end.
I looked over to the alien creatures sleeping nearby, and felt a surge in my gut. A hunger, unlike anything I had ever felt before. Ever since arriving on the BSL, I had felt a strange hunger, and every time I consumed an X Parasite through my suit, the hunger was quelled momentarily, before coming back even stronger than before. And now, I felt insatiable. It wasn't the hunger you have when you're in the field with no rations, or when you're alone on a planet as a child with nowhere to go, no, this hunger was powerful, and all encompassing, it was a driving force, but not for need of sustenance. I couldn't explain it to myself, let alone to anyone else.
I pushed the thought aside and tried to focus on my arm cannon, lifting it and hitting a switch on the inside, which opened up a diagnostics panel. Once on my ship, the weapons were disabled, and red lines crossed out each icon. I could see the various beam details, the missile information, everything seemed okay. There were no issues I had to focus on there, though I now had to figure out how to remove the Ice and Burst missile properties from my weapons systems. The data had been downloaded into a central computer, but it would be buried, and with my own DNA having overwritten the deadly susceptibility to cold the Metroid vaccine had granted me, I no longer needed to rely on heavy weapons in favour of the Ice Beam.
Scrolling through pages of data on the small screen near my feet, I tried to find what I needed, when I heard a ping from nearby. I looked up and saw the purple camera, like an unblinking eye, had lit up and was focusing on me.
"I just got some new information from Federation Command," Adam said in his drone computer voice. It made my stomach turn, to know he was just some AI now, a great man now confined to a machine, with memories that were touched, thoughts he was fed, he was just a part of the ship now, and not even a real person. Not the man I knew. Not anymore.
"What do they want now?" I asked, turning my attention back to my screen.
"They want answers. More than that, they want details that I'm not at liberty to discuss. A lot happened on the station. Samus, they're court-martialling you."
My heart dropped at those words. Court-martial, a trial for military damage, war crimes even. If they considered anything I had done on that station to be this serious, despite their own wrong-doings, things could end badly.
"They can't do that, I was well within my parameters of doing the job," I began, balling my fists and standing to my full height. The camera continued to eye me, and I could see the lens focus behind the glass.
"It appears they disagree," Adam spoke as softly as his mechanized vocoder could, "because this is a serious matter. They have placed an order onto this ship, we are not to make any stops, and will dock with the nearest Federation base ASAP. This is bad, Samus. They could terminate your partnership with the government, or revoke your Hunter license. If worst comes to worst, they could even take your suit."
"What?!" I shouted, and the Etecoons and Dachoras raised their heads in alarm at my raised voice, "They can't do that! It's considered Chozo tech, which means that they have no jurisdiction, it's ancient and it can't be taken away from me! Those are the rules!"
"I wish it were that simple, but it appears they applied a loophole. Once the suit was infected, and the experimental surgery began, enough of the suit had been replaced, adjusted, or otherwise tampered with to allow it to fall under a new category; joint technology operations. Essentially, they own half of the design now, if not more, and can enforce that at any time."
I had to unclench my jaw, I could feel it locking up. I wouldn't let anyone get a hold of this suit. I was as much a part of it as it was of me, and in the wrong hands, it could end up being extremely dangerous. No, there was no way I was going to let that happen, not without a fight, not without the Federation prying it from my cold, dead hands.
The room felt hot, suddenly. Like a rage that I couldn't squash down had enveloped me. It wasn't until Adam said something that I realized what had happened.
"Why did you call your suit?" he asked. I turned my head back to the computer console and raised an eyebrow quizzically. I hadn't called my suit. But I looked down at my hands and saw one was wrapped in the orange claws and the other in the dark green of my Power Suit, and I was struck with a realization.
My Zero Suit was an extension of my Power Suit, an inner skin meant to be worn by the user that would allow the armour to be called to them in a specific radius, the armour could teleport and then form around the user. But it was a mental call, and one that took training to perform. Even now, my mind needed to be clear, needed to be set only on the Suit in order to call it to me. I hadn't thought about anything but protecting what was mine, and here I was, wrapped in armour that pulsed with every breath I took.
With shaky hands, I reached up and touched a small plate on my upper chest. There was a hissing sound, and the organic membrane seemed to shift to allow the panels to open, and I was able to step out of the armour. The moment my feet left the foot pads, it closed back up, like a zipper on an old jacket. Hesitantly, I turned around, but before I could react, I realized my mistake.
Something stabbed into me, into my body, my soul, my very being. I felt like hot magma was flowing down my spine, filling my body, and the pain was intense, but it wasn't just pain, it was fulfillment. It was only for a brief moment, but the never ending hunger subsided, and I felt more like myself than I had in days. And suddenly it was over. I turned back to where my armour had stood behind me, but it was nowhere to be seen. I looked down at my hands, but they were my own. And once again, Adam's voice sounded worried.
"I suppose we'll have to chalk this up to an unexpected side effect."
"What was that? What side effect?" I couldn't hide the tremble in my voice, or stop the shaking of my hands. Something felt different, off. It wasn't wrong, just uncomfortable. And I couldn't figure out what it was.
"It appears the suit has bonded to you. Physically, in a way that your old suit never was. Perhaps it is a side effect of the baby Metroid imprinting on you. Not just as a mother, but down to its very DNA. The suit is, after all, half Metroid. Perhaps..." Adam paused for several long seconds, and I urged him along with a hand gesture.
"Sorry, I was running a diagnostic. The sensors on the ship are crude, but I still ran a scan. Right now, I am detecting two distinct life signs n the exact spot where you're standing. The suit has bonded to you physically, and it is, in fact, alive. Somehow."
I didn't need to hear anymore. It was a ridiculous statement, but it explained a lot. My entire body had been effected by the Metroid DNA, why not my suit? I was no longer human, and my suit was no longer a techno-organic piece of Chozo engineering. We were Metroids, in our own right, the last of their kind, and this would change the playing field much more than any argument I could have made to the Galactic Federation.
"Alright Adam," I said, approaching the helm of my ship, "We're setting course for the nearest Federation base. Calculate the approach, and let's show them just how important my actions were."
"You got it, Lady," Adam said. I felt the drives kick up, and the endless expanse of space whisked past. I was ready for a war.