Chapter Two: No Quarter
Bzzt.
Catherine Favreau's eyes snapped open at the distinct sound of her personal pager going off. Short, loud buzzes coming from the nightstand. She rose from her slumber and swung her legs to the side of her bed, reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the small, circular device.
"MESSAGE RECEIVED: INON."
The words scrolled across the screen, five characters visible at a time. She scowled and stood up on her hardwood floor, flicked her finger against the small central screen, and read the text that formed in the one foot wide holographic projection. Her scowl deepened in frustration.
"Catherine,
Call me. Samus has been picked up. This isn't good.
-Inon of Dath"
Inon was not one to mince words. Catherine understood this and understood the gravity of this situation. She slid her finger sideways along the hologram, browsing the user interface until she found the call feature, then sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Despite its importance, she refused to call Inon this early in the morning – she looked to the clock and saw it was 6:23 A.M. standard federation time – without first having a cup of coffee.
With the pager in hand, Catherine made her way through her condominium; it was a small yet lavish apartment in the Ascent District of Daiban's capital city, Remdan. She placed the pager on the granite counter of her kitchen, the cozy corner of her home composed solely of this counter; a small, fully stocked fridge; a box-like machine that acted as her coffee maker; and a rarely used stove. Despite the size of her kitchen, she adorned it with decoration as much as she had the rest of her apartment. It had a modest flair. Hanging fruit baskets, potted plants, just the basics. She picked a banana off the basket above the counter and pressed select buttons on the coffee maker, its whirring now the only sound in her quiet morning.
Bzzt.
That was until the pager reminded her of its existence. She gave it a quick look, the same words scrolling along the screen. Learn some patience, she thought, I'll call you in a minute. She ignored the hypocrisy of this sentiment. It was her that had asked Inon to keep her updated on the Samus Aran situation in the first place.
She peeled the banana as she eyed the coffee maker, intent on ignoring the buzz. She then moved her attention to the refrigerator. She opened it, and it was full of vegetables and meat cramped together along with half-eaten leftovers. She reached into the back of the fridge, grabbing a thin, long, violet bottle. With some struggle she managed to pull it out.
"A little kick for my coffee," she mused to herself. The coffee maker beeped, signaling that it was ready. Heavy on sugar and cream and with just a dash of bourbon.
Bzzt.
This time she responded to the pager, reaching over with one hand as the other poured from the bottle into her cup. She placed the bottle on the counter and navigated the pager's interface once more, finding the call button and tapping it. The dial rang for a moment, long enough for Catherine to sip her morning coffee. It was strong and sweet.
"Catherine." Inon's synthesized voice began before the projection had popped out. It formed moments after, showing him to be a curiously shaped, vaguely humanoid robot. His head was long and cylindrical with two short slits that glowed faintly red. He spoke through the speaker on what appeared to be his chin. He looked like the crude building of an amateur engineer. In truth, he was a sentient creation, built by one of the member species of the Federation for the sole purpose of representing them in the galactic government.
Inon was the only non-organic member of the Galactic Council, chosen for his position because of his unique talents and curious disposition. Specifically, he was in charge of systems management of the Central Galactic Network. This made him an indispensable ally to have.
"Inon, give me all the information you can on the Samus case," Catherine said, cutting to the heart of this call. "I want everything."
The hologram was stoic and unmoving. "I am able to tell you that Samus was picked up in sector SRQ3 by the GFS Poseidon eight hours and twenty-three minutes ago. I cannot tell you anymore."
Catherine furrowed her brows at this. "You're a member of the council. You're in charge of system management. What do you mean you can't tell me?"
"You are a member of the council, and yet you require me to tell you. I cannot tell you."
Inon's voice couldn't simulate tone, but Catherine felt a sense of irony coming from the droid. She took another sip of her coffee before saying, "So, Holland's pet is on board." She placed the cup on the counter. "He's trying to keep me out of the loop. You can't tell me because this is a matter of galactic defense and that's Holland's jurisdiction."
"I cannot confirm or deny that."
Catherine realized this was why Inon called her. He couldn't directly tell her anything, but his inability to answer made things very clear. "Mullan thinks he's playing three dimensional chess. He's playing checkers."
Inon's head tilted up at the mention of Mullan. "Colonel Mullan's favorability rating has surged 2.3 percent in a recent Galactic Gazette poll of pledged delegates. Your lead has shrunk by an overall 3.1 percent in the past three weeks. At this rate you'll lose by 0.4 percent. You do not want that."
Catherine took another sip from her coffee. It was too early to talk politics. "Right. Probably going to use this against me. Last time she blew up a planet I was the deciding vote to acquit her on all charges, so now he'll say I'm allowing a loose cannon to destroy Federation property. Next it could be your planet, or your planet, or your planet!" She mocked Mullan's mannerisms, reaching her arms behind her back and locking them together. She smiled and laughed, then pointed her finger at Inon. "You know he will."
Inon was silent for several moments. "Councilwoman Favreau, it is unwise to be inebriated this early in the day."
Catherine snapped to attention and placed her hands on her hips. "I'm fine, tin man. I can hold my liquor." She looked over at the violet bottle. "But I think I'll make a fresh cup of coffee after this call is over." She leaned on the counter and looked out to her living room, the large glass window the only two inches of laser-proof material separating her from the Galactic Federation capital. "Samus will be planetside today, right?" She doubted he could even answer that.
"She will arrive today. I cannot tell you which port she will arrive at or when, but a ship of the Poseidon's size would likely be at-"
"Damn it, on the other side of town. I'll have to send someone." She laid her head on her open palm.
"Is that wise, Catherine? Samus will be closely guarded," Inon asked.
"We need to know what she knows. Off the record as soon as possible. It'll be at least a week before an actual trial begins, and at least another week of deliberations, and that'll be just before the election." Catherine raised her head and planted both hands onto the counter. "Mullan's hoping I make a mistake that costs me everything. I need to turn this around on him."
"Very well, Catherine. I will continue to monitor the situation." Inon's eyes lit up briefly, brightly shining in the hologram. "Interesting."
"What is it?" Catherine asked.
"The Poseidon's projected time of arrival has sped up. It appears you will want to be getting ready. I will have to be going. Do be safe, Catherine."
The hologram dissipated as Inon exited the call. Catherine brushed her fingers against the counter, running along the edges of her cup. She gripped it tightly, then released it. There was no time to waste, she had to prepare.
Samus sat with her back against the cold, steel wall of the cramped bunk room provided for her. One leg dangled off the edge of the cot, foot grazing the floor as she kept the other leg pressed closed against her chest, arms wrapped around it and her head bent down. Her breathing was steady, but it was heavy.
"Miss Aran, I don't know what you think you saw on that space station, but everything on board was the legal property of Biologic, and as a federal subsidiary the destruction of that property is the destruction of government property."
Her breathing became haggard, and she shut her eyes tight. Her hair, untied, clumped together and stuck to her wet, stained cheeks.
"You can't be serious. The X Parasites were replicating! They would have killed anyone sent to retrieve them and spread throughout the galaxy, can't you see that?"
"The Federation Military is not incompetent. If the X were a threat, we would have destroyed the space station."
Samus pressed her lips together, her face now scrunched up in an anxious wave of heat and pain. Her skin flushed, tears rolling along her cheeks and dropping down onto her leg. She rolled over to her side, half on the bed, half dangling off the edge. Her breathing reached a fevered pitch, growing deeper, louder, and pained as her chest seemed to tighten. Samus focused on this to control her panicked state.
"If you become a threat, we'll do the same."
A sharp gasp perforated her clenched lips, and she curled into a ball. She was like this for several minutes, hands clasped into fists. It was not the first time she had to fight her body. Despite her years of training, both physical and mental, she was human. There were techniques she learned to combat the psychological trauma she suffered over the years, but they were temporary fixes: bandages over broken bones and scar tissue. The only thing she could do in this moment was relent, letting the pain pass as she told herself that this would soon be over. Her mind recovered before her body every time, and so she had to play a prisoner, trapped in the heaving mess that was Samus Aran.
She regained control of her body, enough that she could sit upright. She was still breathing erratically, but it had slowed. Her stomach churned, and the feeling of sickness rose through her body, followed by shame. The great huntress, the one who dismantled the Space Pirate armada, could not even control her own body. She swept her matted hair out of her face, wiping away the sweat, tears and dirt that had accumulated on her body in the past 48 hours. She hadn't even had the chance yet to shower. The closest she had to cleaning was the standard quarantine when she first landed on the ship. She was still caked in dirt and felt gross.
She stood, legs wobbling as she walked towards the door. The ship would be docked within an hour. There was enough time to clean up. She was the galaxy's savior; she had to look the part; act the part. If she couldn't respond to this situation without having an emotional breakdown, she wouldn't be able to save anyone from the Federation's dangerous fascination with Metroids.
The GFS Poseidon was an Olympus-Class battleship, capable of long-term flights across the galaxy. Because it was a military ship, and because of its size, this meant that the showers were communal. Samus wasn't comfortable with this fact. The trek to the showers was brief and no one said anything to Samus on her way there, but the glances they shot to her were visceral. Every detail on her face was the antitheses of what the galaxy imagined when they heard her name. Despite her outwards stoicism, the red cheeks and puffy eyes were clear signs that this was a facade.
The shower room was large and square with white-tiled walls and floor. More importantly, it was empty. Samus was quick to find the corner of the room, far from the shower's entrance and hidden from immediate view. She turned the faucet to its highest heat setting, but was met with cold water.
"Damnit," she muttered to herself as she sidestepped the rushing water. She was unprepared for the sudden drop in body temperature and winced, wrapping her arms around herself and attempting to get some friction.
The shower warmed up and Samus stepped under the running water. The feeling of elation was immediate. She ran her fingers down through her hair, twirling it around her fingers as she let out a long sigh. Her chest felt almost hollow. Perhaps it was just compared to how tight it was minutes ago.
Samus craned her neck and felt the water's tingle as it drizzled down her body. The coolest droplets of water had a mild effect on her sensory systems. It was more of a tickle than a burn, but it was something she was unaccustomed to. Another symptom of her new Metroid DNA, she supposed.
As she relaxed in the shower, Samus' thoughts pulled themselves towards the Federation and their misdeeds. What had transpired on the BSL was not the first instance of Samus catching the Federation working on biological weapons. She knew it was unavoidable that a governing body would do wrong. With trillions of people in the galaxy, and billions of people governing, it was inevitable that there would be some evil. There were lines, though. Metroids were that line.
Samus placed her hand under the shampoo dispenser, then lathered her hair with the sea-foam colored gel. As she washed her hair, the black and blue scarring along her arm passed her eyes. The remnants of her Phazon corruption. Her skin was discolored with streaks running like veins down her forearm. This was the price she paid to protect the galaxy. It was only a matter of time before she would need to pay a steeper price.
When Samus turned the water off, she felt clean and refreshed. No longer covered in grime, she put on a clean pair of blue pants and matching top. Unlike her Zero Suit, which conformed to her body, this clothing was loose fitting, more relaxed. She wanted to at least attempt to blend in once the ship landed.
The halls were abuzz with activity as Samus made her way back to her bunk. The ship was nearing Daiban, with re-entry only minutes away. Engineers and other non-combat staff paced the halls quickly, attuned to their tasks and paying Samus no mind. Marines simply stood at attention. Samus was unsure of how long this ship would be docked on Daiban, but judging from the marines she assumed not long. In her experience, they were much more upbeat when they had free time on the ground.
As she made her way through the corridor to her room, she noted two Marines stationed outside. They weren't there before and Samus could feel her heartbeat quickening. As she neared, one took a step forward, facing Samus and stating in a calm voice, "Miss Aran, we were assigned to escort you to the surface by Captain Nakahara." He paused for a moment, before adding, "To ensure your safety, ma'am."
Safety was not an issue, this Samus knew. Daiban was the most secure point in Federation territory, perhaps even the Galaxy. Still, she didn't want to question them. "Alright. I'll grab my things and we can go." She waved at the guard to let her by, making sure to close the door behind her when she entered the bunk. Underneath the cot was a small luggage suitcase, provided to her when she was given the room. It was puke green, not Samus' favorite color, but it was just large enough to fit the few belongings Samus had on her.
She placed the suitcase on the cot and unzipped the front end, pulling out a small, clam-shell portable computer. She opened it and looked to the door to confirm it was shut entirely. She wouldn't have long before the marines got suspicious, so she had to act quickly. "Adam?" she whispered. A program opened on the screen and text appeared, typed out in quick succession.
"It is unwise that we speak so soon, Lady."
Samus half-smiled. Even if it was text and it was typed by a simulation of the real man, she cherished the chance to have Adam call her Lady. It was a reminder of her time serving under the man in the Federation Police Force. "I know." She continued to speak in a hushed tone. "We're almost planetside. As soon as I can get you into something bigger, I will."
"It won't be as easy as plugging me into a wall socket. You will need to retrieve the rest of my programming."
Samus nodded. "That'll be the hard part." She set the compact machine on the cot and rummaged through the suitcase. She furrowed her brows, then pulled out her emergency laser pistol. The Captain allowed her to carry it on board, which surprised Samus when she first came onto the ship. It was likely because she hadn't been formally arrested. Legally, she was still just a citizen of the Federation. She placed the pistol back in suitcase, then grabbed the compact. "Adam, I'm going to put you away for now. We have to get going. We'll talk as soon as possible. Any objections, Adam?"
"None, Samus."
She closed the compact, and as she was placing it into the suitcase there came a knock on the door. Samus grabbed the handle of the suitcase and walked to the door, opening it much to the surprise of the marine. "Sorry, I wanted to make sure everything was there. I just got out of the shower. Feel a bit uneasy leaving things alone." This was only partly a lie. She did feel uneasy leaving her belongings when this ship had people that were out for her blood.
"Alright, Ma'am. The ship is about to enter Daiban's airspace. Follow me." The marine turned around and began to walk, followed closely by Samus, who was in turn followed closely by the other marine.
They marched at a brisk pace through the ship, passing several window panes. Samus peered out into the star-speckled ink of space and saw the encroaching blue-silver ball of Daiban. She took a deep breath and remembered what Adam had told her after the BSL station collided with SR388.
One of them will understand. One of them must.
She was able to watch as the Poseidon neared the spaceport, a colossal disk shaped facility that hanged high above Daiban's stratosphere. It was the largest port of its kind in the Federation, nicknamed humorously Damocles, which included several docking bays for Olympus-Class ships. It was a well-fortified fortress. Surrounding the port was the myriad of spaceships, both military and commercial, that flew to and fro between the planet and the rest of the galaxy. While not every ship was required to dock at the Damocles – Hunter-class gunships and other small vessels could land on the planet directly – it was required that any vessel containing commercial cargo be checked in. The bounties that Samus handled were classified as commercial cargo.
The three were unable to watch the Poseidon dock as they had reached the pressure cabin, a small enclosed room designed to adjust the pressure levels between the inside of the ship and the outside. There was a noticeable, yet subtle, shift in gravity as the three made their way past the pressure cabin through to the Damocles' gate. Samus' shoulders felt lighter and her stance and gait adjusted accordingly, allowing her to move with more ease.
The Damocles' quarantine check was standard, a routine Samus was now facing for the second time in the past 24 hours. One of the marines entered first, standing in the center of the chamber, being sprayed with chemicals designed to neutralize any harmful pathogens, and passing through without any hassle. Simple and fast, and then it was Samus' turn. She made sure to take note of the officers standing on the other side of the glass. There were three, all fixated on the computer screens that displayed her status. Samus stepped forward in an attempt to catch their attention. Their eyes remained focused on the screen.
"Hello? Are we done?"
This was taking longer than it normally did. It was as she stood there, face inches away from the quarantine glass, that one of them looked up and calmly spoke, "DNA scans identify you as Samus Aran. Is this correct?"
Samus let out a sharp breath. "Yes." This was where it began, she realized.
"We have to report that we have received a warrant for your arrest. Will you comply?"
The other officers seemed disinterested in this exchange as Samus faced the single officer, she placed her hands on her hips. It was an attempt to seem confident. "Yes, I comply."
The officer seemed almost unsure of how to respond. "In compliance with Federation law, you will need to hand over any weapons in your possession. You will also-"
"I understand my rights and I know the guidelines I need to comply with." Samus cut off the officer. "I've had to read them myself more than a few times."
The officer seemed confused, or possibly offended, by the interruption. The officers beside him seemed to be preoccupying themselves with the computer screens so as to not be further involved in this fracas. "Understood," he finally replied. "Then please step out of the quarantine."
Samus did as she was told, letting one of the Marine officers that had escorted her take his turn. As soon as she had stepped out of the quarantine, the officer stepped away from his computer. He glared at Samus. "Are there any items on your person that we must be aware of? I will remind you that your luggage will be checked at security either way."
Samus nodded and opened her suitcase, then handed the emergency pistol over to the officer. Though she hated to part with it, Samus understood that she wasn't truly defenseless. They would only be able to confiscate things that they could physically detect. Samus' power suit was currently immaterial.
"Hands forward. Now." She raised her hands, expecting him to put handcuffs on her. He turned to the other officers and beckoned one forward, who carried with them a smooth, gray device. It opened up with a click and was clamped down around Samus' right wrist. It lit up with a bright green light and a loud beep.
Samus stared at the bracelet for several seconds, perplexed by the object. She had seen these before, even had a few of her bounties where them, but she had never worn one before. She ran her fingers along it and found it was smooth, with two small buttons along the bottom. If one looked closely at them, they read, "Accept" and "Decline".
"Just a tracker?"
The man cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. "What? Do you not know your rights?" he asked. The sarcasm was not appreciated given the seriousness of Samus' curiosity.
"House arrest is a little light for what I've done. I'm not complaining. Just, you know, curious why I'm not being thrown in a cell."
The man shrugged, turned away from Samus, and returned to the computer screen to let the Marine pass. Then he said, "Lady, I don't care what you did. Just don't leave the planet or break the law. Got it?"
Not wanting to spoil the moment, Samus didn't reply. An officer had begun to speak to one of the marines in a hushed manner. Although she was tempted to eavesdrop, the other marine was standing nearby, facing Samus directly. The conversation lasted for several minutes, and the marine seemed agitated by something. His voice started to raise above a whisper but Samus was unable to make out anything useful. They stopped speaking, and the marine walked over to Samus.
"Ma'am."
He gestured for her to follow and began to move ahead through the foyer, a multi-floored, concentric room at the heart of the spaceport. At the center of the foyer was the port's direct link to the surface of Daiban: The Light Cable System. The LCS was a relatively new technology first implemented in the Damocles. It was based on designs from various Federation species' technologies. One of the largest contributors were the Luminoth, who had similar technology on their home world of Aether, which Samus had experienced firsthand when she visited four years earlier. It would allow the users to travel via a beam of light from one destination to another. In the Federation, it was mostly used for tourism.
Samus would have spent more time marveling the LCS if she had had the freedom. It was a very complex system but to the average onlooker appeared as simply a large cobalt-tiled circle roped off from the rest of the room. Only so many people could be transported at one time and only at designated times. There was a complex system that handled the whos and whens. It reminded her of the Chozo. Simply designed with an inner complexity. Given the Luminoth's history as students of the Chozo, and their involvement with the creation of the LCS, it was as if the Chozo had lived on in the Federation.
Samus cut herself away from that thought as they neared security. There was a moderately long line, and she expected they would need to wait for at least half an hour.
"You ever come through here before?" Samus asked her escorts, breaking the long silence. It was an awkward conversation starter as her voice lacked the geniality of a social butterfly.
"Only once." The marine in front of her shook his head. "I don't like the teleporters. Makes me wanna throw up. You?"
"A couple times. Usually to get paid for a mission."
"Can't you do that online?" the marine asked. Samus grinned at this. Normally that was case.
"I guess getting paid is an afterthought. I'll come to Daiban for the nightlife, and I'll stick around for the paycheck."
"I hear that."
The marine gave a small, forced laugh. There was little more chatter between them before the security check, and the check itself went smoothly much to Samus' surprise. They waltzed through, and Samus was handed a ticket for the LCS. They moved ahead to the waiting area. There wasn't a direct line to the teleporter. Instead, the cobalt platform rested on a raised dais with an operator's pulpit standing by. Those waiting to be next stood in the adjacent area until their ticket was called before moving onto the platform. They then had their ticket checked, and finally were teleported in a flash of neon blue light.
Samus read her ticket and realized that this is where they all parted ways. The ticket was for one. "I guess I'm free to go," she remarked dryly.
"Not exactly." One of the marines walked up to Samus. "Aside from being unable to leave Daiban, you are being shifted to a different handler. You'll see them planetside as soon as you step off the teleporter." The marine took a step back and, with the other marine, planted himself along the outer edge of the area to watch Samus enter the teleporter.
The long stretches of waiting were starting to grate on Samus, and she attempted to pass the time more swiftly by playing little games with herself. She would look around and look for any ingresses ranging from the obvious entryways and doors to the vents and even the teleporter, and imagine that a platoon of enemy combatants were storming the port. This was something she liked to do when she had nothing to occupy herself with. Whenever she visited Daiban, she played this game a lot.
It took perhaps another twenty minutes for Samus' ticket to be called and in that time she had imagined at least three different ways that the Damocles could be targeted. This ranged from using a commandeered commercial vessel and sneaking aboard to a full-blown invasion. In each scenario the combatants made their way to the teleporter in a desperate attempt to get to the surface.
The high civilian count made direct combat a catastrophe. There would be mass panic. The best solution to this was to freeze as many of the combatants as possible with a diffusion missile, then pick off the stragglers who would target her as their main threat. Then Samus imagined what would happen if one of them were to take a hostage. That would be trouble. Her weaponry wasn't the best suited for a standoff. Her gear was largely exploration and combat centered.
Samus had gone deep into thought, almost unintentionally ignoring the last call for her ticket. She chastised herself for this, but made a mental note to return to that scenario when she had the chance. Several people had moved ahead onto the cobalt platform and Samus joined them, handing her ticket to the operator.
According to her ticket, Samus was scheduled to arrive at Remdan's business district at 8:45 A.M. As she looked around to the other people on the platform, she noticed that she stood out. This was normal for her. Between her 6"2 stature, defined muscles, and noticeable scarring on her lower arm she was a green hat with an orange bill even among the general population; these people were not the general population. Most of them were dressed in business attire. Most wore suits and dresses, or a casual work shirt with a tie. Samus had long outgrown any sense of embarrassment for her physical demeanor, but could never help but feel a sense of awkward lamentation for her attire. She couldn't help the scars, but her fashion sense left her self-conscious.
Samus shifted her focus to the operator, who was handling the controls for the teleporter. She raised her hand and said in a clear voice, "8:45 to Remdan! Business district!" before pressing her hand to the operations screen. Samus exhaled before the transition could begin, a trick that would help keep her from feeling nauseous afterward. There was a flash of light before Samus' eyes and a tingle that swept over her body. As she was transported via the light cable, she felt incorporeal. This was similar to the feeling of entering her morph ball state, but without a balled up power suit to guide she lacked any sense of control. It was as if her mind was floating in a body of water and that body of water was bubbling gently against her from every direction.
When she came to on the other side, she drew in a deep breath and her muscles locked. She looked around the small, square space she had landed in and found that the other passengers were dealing with the travel in their own way. Some had pained looks on their faces, others as if they were about to vomit. One or two had no visible distress whatsoever. Samus envied them. She did not envy the passenger that leaned against the room's wall and, from the sounds of it, was heaving. They were all now officially on the surface of Daiban, in the Remdan-Damocles business port.
An intercom was signaled, calling for their attention: "You may exit the LCS chamber when the light above the door frame turns green."
This was followed by: "Custodian to LCS chamber seven."
Apparently the passenger's heaving was no longer dry. Samus focused on the door way and it's red light. Once it turned green, the passengers rushed for the door. Samus stood to the side of the room and let the crowd exit. Before she had a chance to leave, a custodian was already entering the chamber, delaying Samus' exit by several seconds. She had absolutely not waited for this on purpose to stall meeting her new handler. Of course, once the custodian began cleaning, she had a clear line to the exit and no more excuses.
Samus exited the chamber and looked around, finding a sign on the wall that directed her to the lobby. Following the sign, Samus found herself in the well-lit lobby surrounded by several dozen people and the dissonance of business meetings being planned, family reunions, and other jovial noises.
She scanned the crowd, looking for her handler. She expected that they would be here waiting for her but wasn't sure who they were or what they looked like. Her handler would need to find her.
"Princess, over here!"
Samus turned to the far wall and saw, leaning with his arms crossed, a tall muscular man in a black t-shirt and jeans. Samus couldn't resist his infectious smile and strode over to him. She shook her head back and forth, overjoyed to see her long time friend and past comrade, Anthony Higgs.
8-20-17 Edit: Amended a slight continuity error. Previously said Samus had visited Aether six years ago; updated it to say four.
