I: Reflection

I remember Earth. Home to the Galactic Federation Headquarters, this is the first planet I visited that I couldn't call home. I remember the strange jumble of emotions that spurred in me the day I left Zebes. Excitement, anxiety, dread, concern, and yes, even a smidgen of fear. After several years in the desolate planet, I learned to live in peaceful solitude. That is, if you didn't count the animals. The Chozos were there to take care of me, but they were never there to keep me company. They helped me survive the harsh conditions of the planet and gave me the power to protect the galaxy, but they never sang me lullabies. They never told jokes or played games.

Once I left the planet, however, I realized I learned to live without these things. I was a weapon, and I was ready to do my job. I was excited to see someplace new after almost a decade of the same barren landscapes. I was anxious about my first time in real combat. Still, I dreaded the thought of being under someone's command. I was finally free of the Chozos, and I wanted to do what I wanted for a change. I chased this feeling I had never felt before. It's probably the reason I became a Bounty Hunter. I can be the protector of the galaxy the Chozos desired while still acting of my own accord. Besides, the Galactic Federation doesn't always make the best decisions…

I was also concerned that I wasn't going to be able to help in the way that I wanted to. I overheard several of Old Bird's conversations with the Federation and I got the impression that they weren't very competent. I later turned out to be mostly right. Finally, there was, as there had always been, a small bit of fear buried deep inside. I was still half-human, after all. My training eliminated most of the fear, but nothing could erase my memories of K-2L. I was no longer afraid of fighting or risking my life against Space Pirates and other alien threats, but I was still scared of one thing. The monster that haunted my dreams and splattered me with the blood of my parents.

I smile at the warm sun, which is the same color as my outfit. I'm no longer afraid. I beat him. I saw him writhe in agony and fall to the pits below. There's nothing else in the universe that can stop me now.

I look around at the shops, all selling items I've never even heard of before. I've never been to this district before. Whenever I was on Earth, it was always at the Federation HQ. Now that I'm freelance and my mission is over, I get to discover this new world of entertainment and civil life. I chuckle, realizing the other reason I became a Bounty Hunter: exploration.

It was always forbidden at Zebes in my youth, but it was my favorite thing to do. I felt a strange combination of happiness and caution when I first stepped foot in the caves of Zebes as an adult. I had to look out because I was on a mission, but at the same time I felt incredibly happy to explore the vast underground that was previously unknown to me.

Even now every new corner is another delight.

I suddenly realize that coming here in my orange shorts and top wasn't such a good idea. Virtually everyone stares when I pass by, and those who don't only struggle to pretend they didn't look. There's a lot of other women dressed more provocatively, but I think my size is what makes me stand out among the rest. I'm so much taller than most people that no one's head reaches above my shoulder. Then there's my physique. Several men shoot glances at me that either mean they're interested in getting under my pants, or they're envious of my muscles.

I don't actually mind men staring at me like that. I never had any romantic or sexual interactions with any boys on Zebes so I have zero experience or standards in that regard. In fact, I nearly forgot males existed back then. I was taken from the colony as a toddler and never saw another human until I was a teenager. I guess...perverted looks are better than nothing at all. Besides, there are some guys I find cute. Mainly those intimidated by my muscles.

It's all worthless though. I know I'll never be able to be like that with somebody. I'm a lone Bounty Hunter. Protector of the Galaxy, chosen by the Chozos. I don't have the luxury for romance. I'm also pretty I sure I lack the capacity for it. I do my best to hide it, but I'm not very socially skilled. Again, years of only animals and bird aliens to talk to makes it natural. It's the reason I'm so silent most of the time. I like to stay in my comfort zone, which is my head. Sometimes I think it's the only thing I've kept from back then.

Finally, I arrive at something that peaks my interest. A large building with an equally large sign over its doors that reads:

SOKORRO ENTERTAINMENT

I swing open the doors to find an immense room that reminds me of a cavern in its dark atmosphere and uneven roof. Or maybe it's more like a dank cellar, with its chilly air and damp smell. Repelling the dark are several rows of machines that seem to be built for amusement. Arcade cabinets flash and flicker on the faces of all the players around the room. They're mostly human, but I can spot a few different races here and there.

I walk around them, careful where I step because the small, dim lights along the floor don't actually provide enough light. Most of the games are based on real life threats like the Space Pirates and Kriken. Curiously, some of them have you playing as a Bounty Hunter while others have you defeating them. In most cases, however, your character is a Federation soldier or commander. Blast Ball seems to be one of the more popular ones.

I get considerably less stares because everyone else's focus is already taken, but they're still there. I even accidentally made a young girl yelp when I turned a corner. The dark obscures my face but accents my tall and fit figure, understandably making me look somewhat scary at first glance. Out of the corner of my eye, however, one game stands out to me the most:

METROID PINBALL

I furrow my brow and approach it. The top part displays a Federation commander shouting orders to his soldiers while staring down a group of Metroids. The cabinet itself has Metroids as targets and Super Bombs as pinballs. If the Metroids are not hit within a certain time they advance to the Federation soldiers and the civilians behind them. I don't want to know what happens if they're reached.

How could somebody do this? Metroids are probably the most dangerous and vicious creatures in the galaxy, and they're made targets in a game? It wasn't long ago that I had to face them myself: groups of life-sucking Metroids only vulnerable to extremely low temperatures. I was attacked by them, I felt the energy drain away from me as I struggled to remove it from my head. These are used as bioweapons by the Space Pirates. The idea that anyone could relegate their role to easy target in a pinball machine is ludicrous.

"E-excuse me."

I turn to look down at a teenager, nervously and awkwardly looking away from me.

"I...a-are you going to p-play or not?"

I give a light smile and shake my head, already moving on to another place.

Entertainment isn't something that catches my eye. I find it fun for regular folk to do in their free time, but it's of little use to me. If I wanted to feel like I'm battling Space Pirates I could just go do that in real life and actually make a difference. It's understandable for those that can't fight though.

I leave the arcades to look for a bar. Nowadays Earth law is pretty lax on the subject of minimum drinking age. Politicians are more focused on the seemingly neverending war and people living in suburban areas care more about finding food to eat than wondering how old you'd have to be to drink alcohol. The minimum drinking age here is 17, but you're allowed to drink at ages 15 and 16 if you're in your home and under adult (18+) supervision.

Obviously I had neither of these, so my first drink was with the squad when I turned 17. At first I didn't find the point, but I later found myself spending my weekends at bars, specially after a mission. After several bottles I could finally relax, forget about the universe and everything wrong with it, try to find a way to have fun without losing my dignity. I didn't like socializing even when drunk, however, so I didn't normally bring my friends from the squad and I avoided talking to strangers at all times.

Now that I'm...20 (I think?), and I just finished my "Zero Mission", a large bottle of Valyssian beer sounds incredibly enticing.

I look around while I walk and eventually find a small place with a sign so worn down I can't even read it correctly. There's the letters C, A, E, T and the AR in "BAR", but everything in between is illegible.

"Welcome."

A raspy old voice croaks behind the counter. It belongs to a cloaked figure whose only visible body parts are their dark green claws, clutching two cups and a cylindrical container.

"You're the first one today, young woman. How can I help you?"

Even though their face is covered I know they're smiling as they set the items down on the counter and rub their hands together. I sit on a stool and lean on the counter

"Bottle of Valyssian."

The figure nods, disappears in the back for a few seconds, then comes back with a large blue bottle and a clenched hand. They set the beer down and hand me what was in their hand: two cups about the size of my thumb, presumably to drink in small doses. I chuckle and open the bottle with a single twist. Then, looking around to notice I'm the only customer here, I chug straight from the bottle with one hand.

"Excuse me?"

I recognize it as the voice of a young girl, probably in her early teens, and choose not to look at her while continuing to chug from the bottle. After two more gulps, I set it down on the wooden counter and turn to the visitor with a look of boredom mixed with annoyance. I'm not a friendly creature.

The young girl has short black hair and dirty blue attire that looks like it's been handed down several generations. Torn jeans, running shoes that look like they'll fall of any minute, pink T-shirt and a dirty blue jacket over it. She's holding a pink bow on her left hand and clutching a piece of paper on her right. Her overall look as she pants worriedly at the doorway makes me think she's been looking for someone. Presumably, the bow was removed in order to run comfortably and the paper is something needed to identify whoever she's looking for.

"Are-are you...Samus Aran?"

Her eyes are wide in amazement as she utters my name. I'll never get tired of that. I smile and nod.

"I'm-I'm Sandra. I...I need help."

I look at her, then at the empty room, then back at her. Normally I'd leave smaller jobs like these to someone else, but I'm the only one here. I can't outright reject her plea for help. I sigh, close the bottle and approach the little girl.

"What is it?"

Simple. To the point. I hate needlessly complicating things and I hate socializing. They go hand in hand sometimes.

"M-my brother. Cole. He's been working for those guys in the abandoned warehouse over at 49th for a few months now. To pay for food for both of us."

Orphan siblings. Even I get sad at the thought of it.

"But...the thing is, he stopped coming back three days ago. He left me a little money, but it's all gone now and I'm not very good at stealing. I love him very much and I miss him a lot! Please find him and bring him back!"

My cold stare turns to a look sadness and empathy as I crouch to reach her eye-level.

"Alright. I'll find your brother and bring him back. He's at the warehouse at the end of 49th, right?"

"Well, that's where he goes to work for them, but all the workers get in a ship and fly away to work somewhere far. I've seen the workers get in the ships and I've seen them leave the warehouse. Normally they're supposed to come back really late during the night, but last time no ships came back at all."

I nod and step into the sunlight, changing into my Power Suit in less than a second. I barely take a single step before the girl calls out to me again.

"Wait!"

She shakes her head.

"You can't use the suit! Cole will be killed if they find out a bounty hunter was hired to find him. They probably won't recognize you in that...bikini?"

I chuckle and go back to my orange combination before continuing my march. This means I'll have to fight without my suit again...I guess it's the perfect time to see if the weapon orders I made are done yet.

AN: There's more to come, so stay tuned!