Edited by: Insomniac By Choice
Elements borrowed from: Metroid game series, Quake game series, and The Best There Is Metroid fanfiction
To one positioned behind the man, the fellow might have appeared to be quietly admiring any number of the abundant poetic sights stretched out among the heavens before him.
The vast expanses of space dotted by immense pinpricks of lights called "stars".
The half-dark glow of a nearby moon, its rims tinged by the many-colored spectacle of a faraway nebula.
The glittering tail of comet, icily circling 'round the solar system with single-minded devotion.
Perhaps, even the terrible, reflective abyss that promised to admire him back if he appreciated it long enough.
However, as the man floated almost gracefully in the zero gravity, watching his poetic scene, his body slowly spun, and eventually, aforementioned observer would have had a very different view of the man. In the process, said observer would have discovered it would have been quite difficult for the man to admire anything, poetic or not; corpses are not known for their appreciation of aesthetics, after all.
He was dead. No, not just dead, but mutilated. His left eye was gone, as well as most of the left half of his face, and his hands were bloody, no doubt from clawing at his face during his last excruciating moments of helplessness and fear. Or maybe the blood on his hands was from attempts - ultimately vain attempts - to keep his intestines and lower organs from spilling out of his belly. Vain, of course, because everything below his waist was completely gone, perhaps off somewhere else, admiring poetic celestial bodies on its own. The man almost appeared normal from the chest up - ignoring his face for the moment - but the area around his torso was an odd mix of scorched armor, burnt skin, and twisted internal organs, suggesting in part the story told in full by the rest of his body.
Enough of that.
A few objects floated around the man. A few near, a plethora floating further out, and if one expands one's scope far enough, there were an almost infinite amount of objects floating around the man in space. But to contract one's view back to the immediate, the objects near to him resembled large metal panels - in fact they were - and were still mostly intact, except for scorched areas around the edges now and again where they had been separated from some noble ship they had once helped compose. To think of the dreams and aspirations this ship must have once had, suddenly dashed into pieces, sadly, now no better than common space debris. A tragedy, really.
As mentioned earlier, although the man was dead, he would not keep still. The same force that had so rudely ejected him from the ship granted him motion now. His lifeless limbs slowly floundered in a peculiar but constant manner, almost as though he was trying to swim his way through space. His momentum soon carried his body away from said observer's location, but it was not long before another corpse drifted by to replace him, not that this one looked any more handsome: a large chunk of his chest was gone, and his head and neck were apparently no longer on amiable terms, though hypothetical observer could not have located the head to ask its opinion.
As it turns out, however, these two dead bodies and the handful of metal panels that had floated through the area thus far were merely humble heralds for the macabre parade of corpses and wreckage that followed. As parades go, this one was somber in addition to macabre. Loud music, marching, and flag waving were all noticeably absent, as was the crowd, save for one observer - and a hypothetical one at that. But, a parade it was, and while the broken vestiges of the fleet of ships floating by looked largely similar to their paneled precursors, the two corpses were actually quite dashing compared to mass graveyard that came after them, all broken, twisted, burned, and disfigured in their own way and more than worthy of a horrific narrative in their own right, though they shall not get it. None too soon, this ghastly procession of remains drifted past, gone and leaving no sign of their passage but for that of unpleasant memory. Alas, the newfound serenity of this scene was not to last.
A ship came out of hyperspace. Two more quickly followed. Inscribed upon each of them was a logo with an acronym below it. "SMC" - the manufacturer of the ship, and below this, their unique names. The first ship bore the optimistic name G.F.S. Victory. The equally optimistic names G.F.S. Conquest and Triumph marked the others.
The Victory stayed where it was while the engines of the Conquest and Triumph fired up and carried them past the hypothetical onlooker's line of sight, though with significantly more speed than that of the macabre parade, of course. If the hypothetical observer now turned himself 180 degrees to try to follow the ship, he would see the breathtaking sight of hundreds of such ships, also just removed from hyperspace, as well as the destination they all shared.
Planet Yokoi.
Of the three planets in the star system capable of sustaining life, Yokoi was the youngest and the one with the highest geothermal activity. Except for the ice-capped poles at both hemispheres, Yokoi was also quite hot. This, as well as the extremely wet conditions and nutrients provided by frequent volcanic eruptions, enabled the levels of vegetation across most of the planet to be extremely dense. Interestingly, however, the planet was so hot that, despite the large amount of water present, at any given time, most of it was in the form of water vapor, or precipitation, meaning that over sixty percent of its surface was above sea level. Four huge continents sprawled over most of the planet, while six interconnected "oceans" covered the rest of the planet, along with one landlocked sea in the middle of the largest continent.
"...And that's where we're going to land, boys." Sergeant Jeffrey said, pointing at a small dot on the electronic map with a metallic finger. The squad of powered-suit troopers the Sergeant was speaking to were already strapped into their transport ship, but it was still docked in one of the Conquest's many hangars, awaiting launch. The rest of the platoon was in another ship, likely receiving the same review. "Our orders are to take and hold the island in the middle of that sea until reinforcements come from Wetyin and relieve us. Pretty simple, but since all of you dumbasses were stupid enough to volunteer for the Mechanized Infantry in the first place, I'm guessing at least one of you has a dumb question to ask."
"'...Hey Sarge?" Ventured a trooper with the words PVT Martin written across his powered suit.
Sergeant Jeffrey sighed.
"Yes, Martin?"
"...What the hell's a 'Wetyin'?" PVT Martin asked.
The transport ship was suddenly filled with groans. Private Martin was oblivious.
"...Sarloft, Swivven, Koos, and Wetyin are the names of the four continents." A trooper beside Private Martin explained. PVT Tull was written on his suit. "The island is closest to Wetyin, so that's where the sit-down boys are going to come from after we go in and secure it."
"...Hell, Sarge, you was right about the stupid questions." Another trooper said, this one on the other side of the transport. "Martin's a -"
"He's still a smarter than you, Red." This trooper had PVT Gonzales on his suit. "You're lucky Martin asked that question before you could."
"Hey, Gonzales, feel free to just come on over here and blow me." Red yelled back.
"...If you worthless fools don't shut up," The sergeant said, angry now rather than agitated, "I'll have you re-assigned to spice mining duty on an asteroid."
"Aw, Sarge, you know you love us," Gonzales cooed, "You don't have to act like a tight ass around us."
"I'm the only one of you cock-loving queens whose asshole is still fresh enough to be tight. Try to keep your minds off all the peckers nearby, and listen up." Sergeant Jeffrey said. "Word just came in that things've changed. Everybody, watch your visor, the Lieutenant's about to give us all the update."
The heads-up displays of all of the troopers in the squad were suddenly half-filled by the warmly impassive face of their commanding lieutenant, Abbas Alano. None of his men knew how old he was; they'd all seen him out of his suit before, and noticed the gray peppering his hair, but he was still fit, and he might have been anywhere from his late twenties to early forties. A thin scar running from his hairline to his chin through his still-working right eye proved he'd been in service to the Galactic Federation for more than his share, but just how many battles he'd been in or how he'd gotten that distinctive scar, they didn't know. It didn't really matter, though - the troops felt that as long as he was around, everything would be okay.
"Gentlemen." He began, speaking softly, but radiating confidence. "There's good news in the war against the Space Pirates. A lone bounty hunter battled through enemy lines and killed the Space Pirates' Mother Brain on Zebes. Doing so triggered the dead-man's switch, and the Zebes base was completely annihilated."
Cheers and cries of joy rung out among all the troopers. Abbas let the cheers continue until they died out on their own, but didn't join them.
"...Now, the bad news: all of that talk you heard about Yokoi's defenses being relatively new and incomplete turns out to have been nonsense. The orbital defenses are already in place, and it's obvious our intel on their ground defenses is completely unreliable as well. The scout ships that were supposed to clear this up were shot down almost as soon as they jumped out of hyperspace, meaning we're flying blind until they figure something else out. If you're wondering why we aren't being shot at right now - and you should be - it's probably because now we've got too many ships for them to take down, and they know as soon as they start firing, we'll get a lock on their positions and fire back. Pirates may be ugly, vile bastards, but they aren't stupid. We have a list of possible targets, but, thanks to the Federation ignoring this planet for so long and all of the canopy vegetation, we can't tell what's a pirate base, what's a native temple, and what's a pirate base built into a native temple. At some point, they'll start firing at us, so instead of just going to help clear out a landing zone for the mobile command center, we also have to make sure any orbital defenses in our area are out of commission. Then, the reinforcements should be able to come. Where we're at may be their central base, or it may just be an abandoned temple; we'll find out when we get there."
He smiled briefly, and the troopers' feelings of despair subsided slightly. "But, don't forget about the good news. Zebes' destruction makes the bases on this planet the last remaining Space Pirate presence of any consequence in the galaxy. We just have to do our part in one battle, and the war is over for good. ...Bet you didn't think becoming a hero would be this easy, huh?"
He laughed, and the troopers all laughed, too. Then, his picture disappeared, and the laughter slowly subsided and the troopers were left merely sitting in their transports quietly.
The transports began lifting off a short time later, heading for the planet below while the main ships hung back at a safer distance. As they entered the atmosphere, all of the ships began to shake, and despite the restraints, the troopers found themselves being rattled around in their seats.
"Hell of a ride, huh?" Private Martin said to the person on his side, an empty space between them. The other person had his arms crossed and head down, and didn't respond. He probably couldn't hear anything. Martin looked forward. "Hey Sarge!" He called out to the person sitting across from him.
"What is it, Martin?" Sergeant Jeffrey asked.
"Who's the new guy?"
"The MI has been short on men for a while. If you'd been paying attention for the past couple of months, you'd know the Federation has been hiring a bounty hunters to help fill out the ranks."
"...A bounty hunter!" Martin exclaimed. "Christ, a bounty hunter is part of our squad?"
"Don't spit it out like that!" The Sergeant warned sternly. The other troopers turned their heads to look at the bounty hunter now, too. They knew what Martin was thinking, but they had tact enough not to say it. Martin, however, didn't.
"…Guy like that could get us all killed, that's all I'm saying."
Suddenly, the ship rocked with incredible force. If it weren't for the restraints keeping them down, the troopers probably would have been tossed from their seats.
"We're hit!" The pilot announced out over the intercom. "Missiles are locking on to us!"
In the moments that followed, the troopers aboard the dropship could only feel the sensation of movement, and fear an impending doom. If their vantage point had been outside the ship instead of inside of it, they would have seen their ship - with a tail of grey smoke trailing behind it - weaving a winding path through space, zigzagging and twisting around in an attempt to shake off its pursuers: two missiles. After a short but tense chase, the pilot managed to lose one of the missiles. Unfortunately, the remaining missile would not be so easy to shake off.
The missile ate up the distance between itself and the ship quickly. The troopers aboard the dropship felt the ship rock even harder than it had before, heard an enormously loud sound as if the entire universe was collapsing around them, and then —
Xeph's heartbeat was pounding hard in his ears. He couldn't believe that his own heartbeat could be so loud, or that he could be able to hear it so clearly.
He slowly opened his eyes. It looked like the world was turned sideways. He realized that this was because he was lying on his side. He could tell that he was lying on the floor of the seating area of the dropship. However, the dropship was missing a very vital component – one of its walls. The lack of a wall provided him with a window, and out of this window, he saw a blue sky, a jungle canopy beneath it, and trees beneath that. They must have made it to Yokoi – although Xeph would be surprised if anyone else was in one piece. He would be surprised if he was in one piece.
A pillar of smoke was rising into the sky, and he could hear a machine gun firing - a battle was already underway. Xeph soon saw what was causing the machine gun sound: a member of the Galactic Federation Military's Mechanized Infantry. He caught sight of something else - a man in a suit of Galactic Federation armor dragging another man - injured, or perhaps dead - across the ground. Another man went running across his field of vision, holding an assault rifle.
Xeph slowly began to push himself up off of the ground - but no sooner than he had righted himself, an explosion suddenly went off a short distance away from him. The force of it threw him against the seats of the dropship, and he blacked out.
He was awake again. Still in the same spot, body positioned so that he was looking up at the sky. His breath caught. His lungs refused to work. Was this dying? He saw a black shape suddenly zip across the sky: a Galactic Federation fighter aircraft. He saw more shapes moving across his vision: a trooper running, another who ran, stopped for a moment to fire, and then continued on, another fighter in the sky, very high up, and suddenly another, flying dangerously close to the jungle canopy.
Suddenly, a man was in front of him. The man grabbed Xeph, and started shaking him. He began shouting at Xeph, but although his panicked face was inches away from Xeph, and he appeared to be shouting very loudly, Xeph could barely hear him, and his voice sounded as if it was coming from far away. "Get up! Get your ass up before-"
The man's sentence was interrupted by his own death cry as a hail of bullets ripped through his body, splattering Xeph with his blood. The man fell over, dead. Xeph lost consciousness a moment later.
Awake again. Fighters still flying overhead. Explosions and gunfire still sounding all around him. Xeph reached out a hand, and felt something. He grabbed it, and used it as leveraged to lift himself off the ground. Only after he'd risen up a bit did he notice that what he'd grabbed was the leg of the man who had sacrificed his life trying to get him to move. Xeph quickly let go of the leg, and raised himself without using anything as leverage.
He turned his eyes back to the horizon that he'd seen during his brief bouts of consciousness. The mech from before was gone. Its spot was now occupied by a towering spider-like being - it was crimson and black in color, and moved about on four legs like an insect. Four tentacle-like limbs came out from under its belly to whip at what Xeph assumed were any troopers foolish enough to attempt to take it on. It had machine guns mounted to its 'head', and as it turned to fire at an unlucky target, two missiles hit it from its blind side. It shuddered at the blast of the first one, but the second one seemed to barely affect it at all. It turned, and began a walk towards whoever had fired upon it, firing its machine guns as it went. Xeph had no clue whether or not the gargantuan beast was an actual biological being, or merely a mechanical construct that looked and moved like a living creature. He knew that the Space Pirates were experimenting with biomechanical technology, so the giant being could be a freak of nature born in one of their laboratories.
He heard a voice over his suit's radio. "This is Sergeant Miller. I'm taking Chimera Squad in to clear out the facility." Xeph was impressed that Miller was still sticking to the mission. At a time like this, it would be almost impossible for a person to go out and blaze his guns. Yet, Xeph was now going to be forced to do the same. To earn his pay, and to survive, he'd had to get moving.
