"You ever wonder what's up there?" John asked. Sam turned her head. He was staring at her.
"Like what?" she pried. John turned his head back to the starry sky.
"Maybe someone up there is wondering it's like down here," he replied. She thought about that for a second, peeked at the sky, then turned back to face him.
"Do you think we'll ever meet them?" she asked. He nodded thoughtfully.
"I dunno." That was the last thing she ever heard him say. For at that very instant, her world became dark. She was forced into a sack of some sort. She couldn't see a thing. The sack she was inside began to move. She could hear the grass rustling around her, but that was it, no footsteps, no tire treads, no engines. She had no idea what was going on around her. Maybe it was one of John's pranks. He always did love to scare her. Yeah, that was definitely it. She was dead-set that John was pulling her leg, as well as the sack.
After five hours, she began to wonder how long John would continue this joke. When she was thrown onto a soft surface and heard the Warthog rev up, she realized that John had nothing to do with it. After another ten hours, the Warthog stopped. A door opened, then slammed shut. Then, silence. All she could hear was her own breathing. It was getting hot. She couldn't stand the heat. It made her feel sticky and disgusting. Of course, she knew a little heat couldn't hurt anybody, but it was starting to get really hot. Someone must've realized she was still in the Warthog, because the air conditioning was turned on after a few minutes. A cool breeze washed over her. Just as she had gotten comfortable, the door next to her swung open, and the sack she was in was yanked out of the Warthog. She was dumped out of the sack and instantly blinded by the white light of the sun. Once her eyes adjusted, she was able to see a man garbed in a full tuxedo. He was bald and wore dark sunglasses.
"Full name," he demanded.
"S-sam uh Aaron..." she stammered. Before she could finish, he cut her off.
"Samus Aran," he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Welcome to the intergalactic child exchange."
Samus woke with a start, nearly bashing her head against the bunk on top of her. Why did she even have that top bunk? It wasn't as if she ever had any guests. Sitting upright, she placed her feet on the ground and stood up. The orange shag carpet felt nice under her bare feet. She opened her eyes slowly, but it didn't help much. The room was nearly pitch black. Her stomach growled. She was hungry. She looked at the clock. It flashed 0000 repeatedly. She needed to replace its batteries sometime soon. Oh well, on to more pressing matters, like food. She padded her way to the kitchen, letting loose a couple of yawns on the way. Her kitchen was full of places to keep food. Cabinets lined the walls. Two refrigerators fought for her attention against each wall. There were at least five pantries stowed away in the walls. Unfortunately, these various ways to contain food were useless without food inside them. Finally, after scouring every cabinet, every pantry, and both refrigerators, she added "buy groceries" to her mental list of things to do. This didn't help her current situation one bit, however. She needed food, now. She pulled up a chair from the nearby table to think about where she could get food quick and saw something dark and small jump down from it. She grabbed a nearby flashlight and laser pistol and aimed both at the now motionless shadow. Turning on the flashlight, she quickly realized that the possible threat was a fat tabby kitten. She placed the laser pistol back into its concealed tabletop holster, set the flashlight down on the table, and picked the fat, young feline up.
"Oh my! You're heavy!" she grunted. She held the defenseless lump of fat up to her face. "What are you doing in my house?" The crumbs on its whiskers told her all she needed to know. "So that's where all my bread went." She noticed a thin collar around its neck and a rather large tag. She grabbed her flashlight once again and read it aloud. "Piggy, Property of Ms. Samus Aran." She glanced at the cat's pudgy face. "You know, that's not a bad name for you." She looked back at the tag. At the bottom, it read "Turn tag over." She did so and read the following:
"Samus, I know you may not exactly enjoy my presence in your life, but I do like you, only as a friend, of course. In any case, I bought Piggy for you to keep, as a token of memory of me should I not return from this or any other mission I may accept in the future. He is low maintenance, has had all of his shots, and is extremely affectionate, or so I'm told. I hope you love him. If not, I'm sure you'll at least learn to tolerate him as you did me.
~Sgt. Devan Reynolds, USIGN."
Samus took another look at Piggy. His face was fat, furry, and full of naivety. She couldn't refuse this gift from Devan. Even though she didn't have feelings for him, she could certainly warm up to Piggy. "Ok, you. No pooping on the carpet, no tearing up the furniture, and no leaving dead rodents and bugs for me to pick up. You got it?" Piggy blinked obliviously. Samus couldn't resist a smile. "Good enough."