Phase I

Log 4,329

I have a lot of names. Bounty hunter. Or if you're feeling dramatic, the hunter. Samus Aran. Little Bird. But those names are identifiers, markers, ways to pin down my place and relationship with the universe. There's one name, one title, that I've earned – the space pirates call me the Iron Bitch. It's not a complement. They haven't used anything as primitive as iron in millenia; it's old, brittle, and weak. But somehow, it never quite seems to break.

The Iron Bitch. That one is my favorite.

And that's who the Galactic Federation is asking for later today.

Log 4,332

They want me to kill them all.

That's the mission, in a nutshell. Go to a remote planet so distant and inhospitable it doesn't even have a name, just serial number SR-388, drop down to the surface, and kill every last Metroid.

Metroids again. They don't look like much, just floating, translucent sacks of energy with all the native intelligence of the jellyfish they resemble. But they have two fatal characteristics—they can absorb energy from all life, and they're freakishly hard to kill. Either one, in isolation, and they're a moderately interesting conversation in an academic conference somewhere, but both of them together? First they were the plaything of the Chozo, then the biological weapon of the pirates.

The federation has decided that they're too dangerous a weapon to leave floating around in their caves. They need to die. All of them. And this is their home.

That's where I come in.

I accepted the contract.

Log 4,359 – 76 hours since mission start.

The planet's not much to look at. A lot of brown and shades of gray. The atmospheric makeup and star size/distance ration are in range for liquid water, if just barely. And there's a fair bit of it, too, thrown around in storms. Apparently the frequent hurricanes are too much for the local flora, so whatever life is down there will be in caves beneath all that rock.

So much for the good news.

There are signs of frequent earthquakes, which are bad news in an underground environment. Getting trapped down there is a real possibility. And if it comes to that, I'll be in trouble. The atmosphere itself is poisonous to humans, probably even for me, and the faintly green-tinged air is significantly acidic. Not much of an issue for power armor, but if the armor is breached, that could be a problem.

And, of course, being this remote means no local satellite coverage to repeat signals, and this desolate waste of a planet has a tight asteroid belt caught in its orbit, which will make any call for help a dicey proposition.

Of course, given the threat level these Metroids represent, if I need to call for help down there, my best guess is that it will come by way of nuclear bombardment. That's still an option. Publicly, killing off the Metroids one by one while sparing the rest of the wildlife is the more humane option. I suspect they're worried that even bunker-buster penetrating warheads might not get deep enough to finish the job.

…

Well, there are no orbital defenses, no signs of intelligent life or civilization. No reason to delay. I'm going in.

Log 4,361 – 30 minutes since landfall

It's very dry. With little surface soil able to withstand the battering, the water drains quickly, seeping down between the rocks, and what little is left in standing pools quickly evaporates in the intense heat. Rock crunches under my feet with every step, bone dry.

The sky is very clear, no pollution at all. The only light source on the planet to compete with the stars are the handful of blinking indicators on the gunship . . . there, deactivated. No point in leaving them on, draining battery. I don't' want anyone to find her but me.

Now there's nothing but stars and rock and me.

The Federation's sensor package they installed on my suit is picking up Metroid life signs, but distant and garbled. Time to go down.

Log 4,362 – 47 minutes since landfall

Encountered life. Multiple threat assessments added.

Designation: Yumbo. This close to the hostile surface, protected only by a bend in the cave, life forms are small. Somewhere between an insect and an avian, it appears to feed on plant life. Notable, needle-like protrusion of bone, apparently for self-defense given its diet. Strange. That is a lot of evolutionary commitment to a weapon it does not use for food.

Designation: Seerook. Somewhat larger than the Yumbo, appears to feed on them, with a large, strong mouth. Beneath each wing are a set of three spikes. As the creature does not have grasping limbs to effectively utilize them, they appear to also be an evolved defense mechanism.

Designation: Tsumuri. Appears to be a crustacean, a soft, sticky body encased in a strong, extremely dense bone shell. They slide along the stone, feeding on algae that grows from runoff water from the surface. Blaster fire ineffective—only missiles could crack the shell. Best avoided. I don't like using limited missile stores on generally harmless creatures. Even with micro-fabrication units in my arm cannon allowing storage of raw missile components instead of awkwardly shaped fully ready missiles, I still can't carry very many of them. And I suspect I'll need them against whatever predator has caused the ecosystem to evolve armor-piercing spikes for defense.

Log 4,363 – 1 hour 12 minutes since landfall

It grows increasingly dark as I head deeper beneath the surface. Even the Chozo-developed low-light optics are struggling to generate a clear picture of my surroundings. Many of the caverns are connected by narrow fissures, cracks left from tectonic activity. Sometimes I have to inch through, scraping a path through condensed sand on hands and knees. Already these caves are far deeper than anticipated.

The nukes wouldn't have worked.

It also seems there is a storm on the surface. Water started to flow through the cave, making every surface slick underfoot. Many tsumuri appeared from innumerable crevices and slid along the damp stone with surprising dexterity, lapping up moisture from the walls. After a few minutes the runoff trickled to nothing, and the tsumuri retreated to their crevices.

Discovered first confirmed predatory species when it jumped on me after crawling out of a crevice. Might have hurt me if it hadn't been impaled from above in mid-attack.

Designation: Hornoad. Fairly good-sized creature, perhaps 1 meter tall. Two strong legs with spikes, short stubby tail for balance, and a large mouth with layers of protruding teeth, like a terrestrial shark. Notably, two large white, sightless eyes. Too deep for effective eyesight. Puzzling. The presence of eyes suggests that they evolved on the surface, and were driven down here at some point.

Designation: Rock Icicle. Somewhat smaller than the hornoad, long segmented body encased in exoskeleton with spikes. Appears to hunt by sensing prey beneath it and dropping down on it to kill it. Can survive two arm cannon shots at close range, through badly injured. Escaped by boring down through sand where large rock formations ground away at each other. I suspect tectonic activity is even more frequent than initial analysis predicted.

I . . . don't like this creature. It must commit itself completely to kill its prey in a single swift strike, or be left awkwardly scrabbling in the dirt, helpless. It did not appear to possess any means of combing back up, only of digging even deeper. Each meal, each successful attack, takes it to a deeper cave, and a deeper one still, until it discovers something it cannot kill, or makes it way to bedrock and starves. Or molten rock, and immolates itself.

It only goes down.

Log 4,364 – 3 hours 4 minutes since landfall

I've discovered large pools of standing liquid, strongly acidic, but apparently well adapted to by local wildlife. Pools fed by water runoff? Is this the bottom? No – there must be some other drainage, or the whole cavern would be flooded.

More wildlife appears to feed off these pools.

Designation: Gawron. Small nesting creatures based near acid pools. Very territorial. Members will fling themselves suicidally at interlopers with rings of spikes around a large mouth. No apparent means of rejoining the hanging nest.

Designation: Acid pool. Strongly acidic. Foundation of local ecosystem, storing surface nutrients from rain runoff. Small creatures like to nest nearby and startle passerby. Corrosive viscous substance, leaves marks on power armor boots that must be cleaned off immediately. Tinted discoloration remains after wiping off with sand.

Designation: Moheek. Marine based life, thrives in acid pools. Harmless, unless provoked by being stepped on. Capable of emitting powerful electrical impulses.

I'm starting to make sense of this ecosystem. It bears some resemblance to tide pools, where strong defenses while waiting, conserving energy, spell survival, punctured by moments of frantic speed when food and water is available. This is likely why the predators have all focused on ambush tactics, waiting for those few moments when prey appears to feed.

Running low on missiles, and suit power is growing dangerously low due to the atmosphere and turning aside the spiky shells of wildlife. With no sight, creatures rely heavily on touch, and the fiercely competitive ecosystem makes touching anything dangerous.

Still no sign of the Metroids, though the signal is getting stronger.

…

The light-gathering optics failed completely. There is no light whatsoever. Turned on headlamps, though they alter depth perception and heavily restrict peripheral vision.

Log 4,365 – 4 hours since landfall

Discovered more links in the food chain.

Designation: Gravitt. Small, crustacean, soft body in shell with bony spikes on top. Burrows in small clumps of sand, difficult to detect. Does not, quite, penetrate power armor boot when stepped on at an angle. Do not recommend stepping flatly on it. Appears to feed on micro-organisms strained from rain runoff by the sand.

Designation: Gullug. Bat-like creature, though with a large spike protruding from each leg. Like the rock icicle, uses its own body weight to increase force of spike weapon. Small mouth, small grasping appendage suggest that while it may once have preyed on gravitts, possibly before they developed their shell defense, they are now carrion feeders and use their spike attack to crack shells of larger creatures.

…

Every environmental sign indicates the presence of a large, armored apex predator, but that seems unlikely. All such large carnivores metabolize considerable amounts of energy, which would make them the ideal prey for Metroids. Considering the territorial range such an apex predator requires, they should only exist in smaller numbers and been quickly annihilated. But if they are gone, where are the Metroids? And has anything evolved a defense to them I can utilize?

Log 4,366 – 4 hours 17 minutes since landfall

I understand now.

I had just entered a side chamber when my lights caught movement. Just another hornoad, but for once it was not attacking. Instead it was prodding at some sort of egg. Large, almost a meter lengthwise and half that in height. Brown with flecks of green. The egg cracked as a spike penetrated the shell from the inside and impaled the hornoad. It struggled, and with only a single claw in its side should have made an easy escape. Instead it howled and crumpled in place, almost as if the life was being sucked out of it.

I have seen that phenomena before – Metroids.

The shell continued to crack and it emerged.

Designation: Alpha Metroid. The Metroids have an evolutionary life cycle. The floating, bulbous creatures seem to be an initial larval stage. At some point they go inert and molt their previous skin. Physical appearance is substantially altered. The core of the metroid is a round semi-transparent membrane encasing a single red nucleus. The other three absorbed or consumed in the evolutionary transition? Possibly similar to differentiating cells. Distinguishing features include a hardened carapace covering the top of its core, two red eyes at the front, though they are unlikely to be their primary sense, a frontally located mouth, and three enlarged fangs ringing the mouth.

Alpha Metroids retain the ability to hover, though they are somewhat slower and more ponderous than larval stage. They instinctively seek to shield their core from harm, marking it as a weak point. Evolving to a heavier, more solid form seems to have eliminated some of their seeming immunity to kinetic and energy-based weapons. Side effect from losing much of the membrane coating? Attacks aggressively, seeking to ram with shell-based spikes and latch on with its mouth to exposed appendages. The pincers are strong enough to strain power armor's left arm. Concussive force against rocks can stun an Alpha Metroid long enough to get it to release its hold. Fire direct missile hits and three near misses enough to crack the membrane over the core. Greatly weakened and turn mostly docile after core membrane is cracked, losing ability to fly. Stop moving approximately three minutes after membrane puncture. Death approximately four minutes after membrane puncture.

Evolutionary trigger—unknown.

Time to transition from larval stage to Alpha stage—unknown.

Additional stages—unknown.

…

I don't like it. Alpha's are big and durable, but not big enough or durable enough to compensate for the loss of its immunity to beam and concussion weapons. And not big enough to shape an entire evolutionary development of an ecosystem. The computer seems to agree, calling it an Alpha. That seems to imply there are other, more advance forms out there, and that this is merely a transition per—what?

…

Earthquake. Minor shifting of rock formations, no immediate cave-ins.

Coincidence.

…

the sensor has gotten deep enough to get an accurate count of Metroid life signs in the region. 39. 39 Metroids to kill. Now there are 38.

Log 4,367 – 4 hours 32 minutes since landfall

Dead ends. I've explored every arm branching off the primary shaft out to the tiniest crevice. Maybe there is a neighboring tunnel nearby and the scanner is picking up metroids from it? Back to the surface.

Log 4,368 – 4 hours 37 minutes since landfall

Reached the primary shaft. The earthquake must have breached a lower chamber somewhere, flooding it with acid, because the acid pools has drained away, exposing more of the primary shaft. Metroid life signs are stronger. They're here.

Descending.

38.