Chapter 7
"In other news, Chairman Kltrlf has announced the lifting of trade sanctions within the Kartera system to allow more goods to flow to those suffering from a recent earthquake on their home world of Starkartera IX. She is confident that this decision will assist the people of Starkartera IX in their recovery efforts to-"
The holo-screen flickered to a new channel, depicting some movie that cast a faint glow over the darkened room. Alien music pumped over the sound system, composed of odd sounds and distorted melodies. The music added to the comfortable cacophony in the bar. Bottles of liquor, with labels in strange languages lined a glass shelf before a large mirror. A bartender that seemed to be made of mostly granite stood mountain-like behind the bar top composed of polished slate. In his hands he held and polished a glass that had been carved from a solid chunk of crystal. Once this piece had been cleaned and dried to satisfaction, the bartender put it away with the others.
Races of many systems came through Feld's Bar. Most of them hailed from the surrounding mining stations, and some were only passing through while transporting goods across the galaxy. Feld listened to his customers talk. Languages and dialects from all over the Lower Systems flew through the air created a melody unlike any other. News from the Border, Outer Reaches, and even the Kessel Empire ran across his mind, the more juicy bits filed away for later perusal.
The creature that stumbled into his bar five minutes ago was turning heads. It stood about two and half pierce tall, and wore odd black clothing. It walked with a slight limp, either due to an injury, or perhaps it was some kind of cultural dance, like how the Ipsim race refused to enter a room that was not perfectly round, or had least had circles as part of the décor. This creature was about a third of the height of anyone else on this entire station. It limped over to the bar, extended arms that had been previously tucked into its clothing, hoisted itself onto one of the bar stools, and then sat down. Feld thought it comical that this tiny dark skinned fleshy creature was sitting at his bar, barely tall enough to even reach his kneecaps, like child imitating an adult. Atop the creatures head was a small patch of fur, cut closely to the skin. At what the bartender took to be it's front, all of the being's sensory organs sat clustered in one spot. Feld had seen better looking guests, but none so odd.
Feld put on his most professional demeanor and walked over to see if the little beast wanted a drink. After all, It was a customer, and at Feld's Bar everyone was welcome.
Feld spoke in Bfre, the most common language in this sector. "What would you like?"
The creature looked up, fixing all of it's sensory organs toward Feld. Even though Feld had never seen one of these things before, he could tell that this little beast was exhausted. It surprised Feld even more that the beast answered in flawless Hlset, the native language of his people.
"Do you accept Confederation Credits?" it asked.
Feld paused, then responded in Hlset. "Confederation? You're a little far from home."
The creature nodded. "It's all I have on me."
Feld thought for a moment. Confederation Credits did have a decent exchange rate, especially if he went through the right sources. "I'll accept them, although I don't expect anyone else on this station to."
"Thank you. I would just like a glass of water then."
Feld went to the opposite end of the bar, searching for a glass that could possibly be small enough for this creature to drink from. He eventually found a shot glass, then filled it with water.
"Hey barkeep!" a voice whispered harshly at his elbow.
Feld nodded. "I'll be there in a moment to take your order."
"You gonna let that Human stay here?"
"Human?" Feld look down the bar toward to the little black-clad creature. "Is that what that is?"
"Yeah, you better be careful. Rumor has it that the Confederation is expanding in this sector. I've just gotten back from a delivery on the Frontier. That Human is military. Those are Captains ranking bars on its clothing."
Feld grew quite for a moment, then spoke. "I have never turned anyone away because of origin or alignment, but your concern is noted." He walked down toward the end of the bar, where the beast still sat.
The Human looked up as Feld set the glass of water down before it. He paused a moment before letting go of the glass. A subtle warning.
Humans were dangerous. Anyone could see their long and bloody history in carving out kingdoms in the stars. This was a ranking officer, and humans always traveled in packs. Did this one have a pack waiting somewhere? For the safety of his other patrons, Feld decided to ask for more information.
"Are you alone?"
The Humans shoulders seemed to slump, as if it had been expecting a question of this nature. "Yes. I came to this station alone. I became lost in a wayward warp. I am Captain Angseth of the Confederation Battle Cruiser fleets," it paused and took a sip of water. The shot glass seemed to be just the right size for it. "If I am making your other customers nervous, I'll pay and leave."
"That won't be necessary. Thank you for the information. The water is on the house."
The creature rubbed it's head, right above its eyes. "I promise not to cause any trouble."
As the bartender walked away, Angseth held the glass before her, looking down at her reflection on the surface of the water. It wouldn't surprise her if she were the only Human on the station. Mining stations always had a wide variety of races. However Humans were not usually among them. Humans, while considered numerous and dangerous, were not the first choice when it came to mining. Angseth wouldn't argue. Even her race was only qualified to mine "soft" resources.
This station was just beyond the Border, a line of space that divided the Confederation territories from the other kingdoms and empires in the rest of space. The patrons of this bar were understandably wary around Humans. Beyond the Border were mainly peaceful underdeveloped races. The only thing that really saved them was the battered moral code that had been established during the Federation Era. However Federation laws had been lacking adaptation qualities when it came to the changing needs of society and the dawn of newer more productive industrial age.
Transition between the "Galactic Federation" and the birth of the "Galactic Confederation of Allied Systems" had not been an easy one. In the history logs it had been referred to as the "Bloodless War." Only one injury had occurred during this fragile time, one representative had assaulted another over a disagreement in new trade guidelines. The new laws and documents had then been recorded in a large database labeled "Confederation Laws and Reform Constitution."
As a result of the new laws, room for a larger military had been made. Instead of the military acting as a police force, political entities were allowed to govern their own space and sectors, thereby freeing up much needed manpower to help quell uprisings, and fend off the occasional invading force. The military had been taken out of the hands of the Senate Chairman, and placed in the hands of the Seven Admirals. The Seven Admirals in turn each acted as the Governor in Chief of their own sectors of space. Each sector had been named after one major constellations that had been used for navigation in the past. This also made the naming of planets and newly found systems much easier.
During the transition phase, Angseth had been promoted to ship Captain. That title meant that she could Captain any vessel from the size of a drop-ship to a mega cruiser. Anything larger than a mega cruiser, or a vessel that carried civilians, she would need a ranking of Admiral. Even the rank of Admiral had been broken down into several levels. Admiral I enabled her to command a civilian-bearing vessel. Admiral II, and she could command up to five ships. Admiral III, and she would have the charge of a station. Fleet Admiral, and she could have an entire fleet, up to one hundred ships at her command. That rank was followed by Fleet Admiral I, II, and III. To be a System Admiral, also known as one of the Seven Admirals, one had to be elected by a military tribunal.
Angseth knew that at least three of the Seven Admirals regretted her promotion as she had only caused them trouble ever since. Admiral Mizzen had taken her under his wing so to speak. She was the Captain he deployed when something needed to be done. Not because she was the best, or even the most organized, but because she was reliable. She would take any mission from him without question, and never looked back once the mission had been completed. Because of this she was granted certain favors within Mizzen's fleet.
Interracial couples were often frowned upon. Planet-side, citizens felt that no greater injustice could be done to the survival of a species. In space, the concept of race ceased to exist when one had been working alongside an individual for an extended amount of time. She and Briar had been dating for ten years now. Admiral Mizzen had been kind enough to turn his head and allow Briar and Angseth to serve on the same vessel. Angseth knew Mizzen well enough by now to know that this was Mizzen's little way of getting back at the system, to plant one small seed of change in an otherwise barren landscape. Likewise, even married couples of the same species were not supposed to work together on the same ship. Dr. Sakari and Zaine Bearn were not supposed to be assigned the same ship to serve their term. Once again Mizzen had purposefully placed the two together under Angseth's command. To keep a low profile, Angseth had been performing training missions on her last two tours of duty. Each tour lasted roughly three years. In those three years Angseth had been assigned a crew of some of the roughest cadets she had ever laid eyes on. In exchange for the luxury of being able to sustain a working relationship, she had been assigned the duty of repeatedly turning a sow's ear into a silk purse. One by one the wills of her cadets had been molded under her watchful eye.
And when another assignment landed on her desk signed by Mizzen, she only needed to nod and sign onto it.
Angseth drank deeply from her glass of water. The water tasted as pure as water on a station could. It was lukewarm, with no ice to keep it cool. All the same it felt good going down her throat. She set the glass back down, watching the water settle and creating a mirror-like surface once more. She missed Briar. Over the nagging guilt in her heart, there was the guilt of placing him in a position she knew that he didn't like. The crew was still young, but good and eager to do their best. Briar seemed to be more attuned to their needs and wants better than Angseth had been. If anyone could keep that crew together Briar could.
After she had lost her leg, Nevada had been the one to help her walk again, to help her find a cybernetics specialist that could create a limb strong enough for daily wear and tear. He had been there throughout her recovery, and when she returned to active duty, Nevada had quit his position as Medical Personnel for a new career as a Security Officer. Angseth didn't quite know exactly who made the first move, herself or him. But one night she found herself in his arms, locked in a deep embrace with his lips over hers. She could still remember how his small whiskers had brushed her cheek. Nevada's embrace had always been warm and his fur and scales so comforting on her skin. She liked it when they were laying in bed together watching some program on the holo-screen, and she could hear as well as feel him purr.
Angseth suddenly shook her head and then took another sip of water.
This isn't good. Already I'm starting to miss him, my ship and my nice warm bunk. I need to stay focused. I'm out here for a reason.
Instead she turned her thoughts away from the warm and comforting, and to the more pressing matters at the moment. When her ship had come out of warp, two missiles had followed, and even though their warheads had been rendered inactive by the longer flight, two heavy objects slammed into what had been left of her main engines. It had been by sheer luck that she had made it to this station by using minor thrusters. It would be a miracle if she could actually have her ship repaired on this station. Currently her ship was parked in a repair bay on the lower levels. A mechanic named "Clersk" had requested some time to go over the ship and see if there was anything he could do. Angseth agreed only because she was hungry, thirsty, and most of her rations had been taken along with her Captain's power suit. The rations still left in her ship she wanted to keep in her ship in the event that she needed them later. If her fighter were fixed, this wouldn't be her last stop.
Once she had reached the upper commerce levels her hunger had left. But she was thirsty. Angseth had stepped into Feld's Bar because in comparison, it had been the quietest she had come across thus far. The water had helped to clear her head, and allow her mind to wander into more comfortable mindsets. Once she left this station, Angseth didn't know if she should return to the Mabus, or perhaps gather more information about Aran's capture. During her trip to this station, Angseth discovered that the file Aran had transmitted to her was still stored in her ships computer. Angseth had scanned the file, and then sighed.
The file had a standard military encryption, but had been written entirely in Chozo. Angseth didn't know Chozo, and the Confederation data banks only had limited samples of Chozo language. The Chozo were an ancient race, very reclusive, and only participated in Confederation Senate meetings when advancements in new technology threatened their migratory routes, which in and of themselves were kept secret. Angseth knew that if she downloaded the right program from the Confederation data banks, then she stood a chance of translating the file. However, if she did download the program, then the Confederation would know where she was. At the moment Angseth didn't know if it would benefit her or not for the bulk of the Confederation to know her location, and why it was so far away from her post on the Mabus.
Angseth didn't even know if the file was genuine, or if that thing really was Samus Aran. But who else could write in fluent Chozo? Depending on how badly she needed the file translated, Angseth could either return to the Mabus and download a program to translate the file there, or find a sample of already translated Chozo language to compare the file to. If she just had an image of an inscription then she could run it through a basic multi-lingual program on her fighter and have it over with. The biggest problem she had with this decision was that her fighter currently had no files on it from which to pull an image from. Again she was faced with the possibility that if she had logged into the Confederation data banks to retrieve an image, then they would know her location. Angseth didn't want the Confederation to know her location, especially after what had happened on FQ3-59.
No one had ever attempted to warp out while still in the atmosphere of a planet. The idea of warping from the atmosphere of a habitable world was almost akin to slamming a station or warhead into it. There was no telling what kind of chaos her wake had caused, or how many innocent lives she had taken with that maneuver. Angseth suddenly lost her thirst. Her limbs felt cold and heavy. For the first time since docking on this station she felt regretful of her actions. The Marines had been there to train. Most of them wouldn't have even been carrying live ammo. Had her wake sucked a few of them into the upper stratosphere? If so, what kind of repercussions would that action have? Perhaps even Aran had been caught in the wake, the fragile dome of the research center caved in to expose the interior to whatever elements Angseth had disturbed with her stupid lack of fore-thought!
That thing is not Samus Aran. Angseth rested her head on the bar top. The smooth slate cool against her cheek. Whatever it is, it is not Aran. Not anymore.
Angseth pulled the water closer, and sat up again. Whatever had happened after she left, if she was really in trouble she would hear about it on the military communications band in her fighter.
Stop worrying and think! You have a file; it must be an important file for Aran to upload it to you directly. Now where can I find a sample of Chozo writing?
Angseth drummed her fingers on the table. Searching her memory for as much Chozo lore as she could remember. She couldn't go to the Chozo directly, they were a bit too elusive for that. Not even the Seven Admirals had access to their migratory routes. Which left the few ruins of the lost Chozo Empire that still existed after all this time. Zebes would not be of any use to her, that world had been destroyed long ago. What other known colonies did the Chozo have?
"Tallon IV," Angseth breathed. "But the ruins there had been destroyed, not to mention the acute radiation levels on the surface," she looked into her glass of water as if to find an answer in the numerous grooves and scratches in the bottom of the glass. "But what other choice do I have?"
"Human!" Someone across the bar called in pigeon-tongued standard.
Angseth lifted her head to the call, even though to only call someone by their race was considered to be rude. She spoke in Brfe, and the creature seemed to be surprised. As surprised as a creature with no eyes could be, at least not any eyes that she could see. "I speak Brfe. Come again?"
The creatures surprise melted away and became replaced by anger. "Cursed Humans taking the mines! Have ye not enough land to keep yourselves satisfied?"
Angseth paused. She had not been made aware of any Human colonies in this sector, especially not beyond the Border, it would break an innumerable amount of treaties, perhaps a private company was expanding their own property? She responded back to the creature. "I was not made aware of any Human activity in this sector. I am not here to take."
At this point Feld walked over to silence the outburst. Before things could get any worse, Angseth left a few credits on the bar top and slipped out of her chair. She didn't want to get the patrons of the bar any more tension over a Human present.
Vera stepped out into the hall. Feld's Bar opened into one of the central commerce pillars of the station. This particular area didn't receive many visitors due to newer areas that had been constructed, but this pillar still received a fair amount of traffic. She stepped out into the main flow of pedestrians, keeping close to the walls. Vera shifted and moved between legs, tentacles, and hooves. Most people on this station were much taller than Angseth, not to mention stronger. She never failed to feel like a small child darting around the ankles of adults on her way to her destination. A few creatures stopped to gaze down at her, most didn't even notice her presence. She learned a long time ago that larger races didn't look down often, and it was just better to keep out of the way.
Angseth stood near the wall and waited for one of the many elevators to open. She would take this one down to the lower bays. Hopefully Clersk would take Confederation Credits, and her fighter wouldn't require much work. The elevator doors opened and Angseth stepped inside, taking a place near the wall again. A few other passengers stepped on, loaded with belongings, food, tools, and smelling of all the odd substances that one could find on a station. She folded her arms and stood in thought as the doors shut. The trip would take about ten minutes.
So where to now? The Mabus, or Tallon IV?
Her mind kept going back to her brief stay on FQ3-59. Memories of Aran's body on a bed of ice and frost, tentacles moving underneath her clear armor.
But I've seen that face before? Where have I seen that creature before?
Angseth looked up and watched the floors tick by. Her thirst and hunger had returned, yet nerves prevented her from going back to get food or drink. This station was large enough to have something that resembled take-out. She wished she had thought of that sooner.
Clersk was a large creature. He hailed from a dense world and seemed to be more suited for the mines than as a mechanic. Angseth was a quarter of his size. Clersk had dark blue plated skin, and wore mechanics overalls made of rough fabric. Angseth's fighter looked like a model craft next to his massive form. When she stepped into his shop, she noticed a tarp had been placed over her fighter and Clersk was sitting at his workbench tinkering with some small piece of machinery.
"Welcome back." Clersk stated. His standard was almost flawless.
Angseth pushed her hands into her pockets and walked up to Clersk's workbench. "So what's the verdict?"
"Not good. Missile bay doors are jammed, right rear thrusters have been almost destroyed, central guidance is out, and your landing gear as well as tow-hook have been damaged."
"How long would it take you to fix it?"
"A week to get the parts, perhaps another two or three to fix. Price is yet to be determined."
Angseth didn't have three weeks. She didn't like that Clersk had not yet named a price. She stood for a moment, studying her craft. "What if we scrapped the engines entirely, sold them here, and put another assembly on?"
"That would cut down on the time." He lifted his head and looked back at her fighter, seeming to weigh the options in his mind. "But that is a military craft, I don't know if I can get high-grade enough engines for such a ship."
Angseth sighed. "Mechanic Clerk, I have a lot of places to go. I need my ship to get to those places. I currently have ten thousand Confederation Credits on my person. All of those including another fifty thousand will be transferred to you provided that you can repair my ship within forty-eight hours. I don't care if you must completely gut the main engine cavity to replace them entirely. I must be able to leave in the next forty-eight hours."
"If you have that much money, why not just buy a new ship?"
Angseth smiled. "Because I've had this one for so long. It was the one that took my leg. Selling this ship would be like giving away a family member."
"All the same, can't be done in forty-eight hours."
"I can help. Not the first time I've had to work on my own craft, I just need tools."
Clersk didn't seem to be amused. He paused a moment, then said. "Ten thousand credits, in addition to the money I get from selling the engines."
"Fair enough." Angseth sat down on the wing of her fighter. May Mizzen forgive her for selling Confederation property. She guessed that if came up, then she at least had a good enough excuse for her actions.
Something on the ceiling caught her eye. Bolted to the rafters was a ring of engines. "What are those?"
"A project. Engines designed for racing vehicles."
"How much would those set me back?"
"Your fighter is too heavy for those to be of any use."
"I'll take your word for it." Angseth pulled her hands out of her coat, then unzipped it and slipped it off her shoulders.
"You're a female." Clersk stated.
Angseth paused.
"Human females are known for their docility."
"With a few exceptions." Angseth tossed her coat into the cockpit of her fighter. "People on this station have been staring a bit hard since I arrived."
"Not many have seen a Human before."
"I had been talking to someone in Feld's Bar who said that Humans had been making a push into this sector. I find that a bit odd because I would have heard about settlements. Then again beyond this point there are no planets with resources that the Humans would covet. I'm not like most Humans. It is part of my creed to help all races, not just the one I was born into, otherwise I could not call myself a ship Captain."
"You are different from some other Humans. So what is the news from the Confederation?"
"The Confederation…" she began. "Is going though the usual growing pains. You would think that so many races that have decided to unite under one banner would be a little more willing to get along with each other."
Clersk nodded. "Such is the case with this station. Quite often it ceases to be a melting pot and more like a war zone. It doesn't even take the threat of a different race, sometimes there are people from different tribes or clans wishing to tear out each others throats."
Angseth felt a soft smile spread over her lips. "My ship has no fewer than ten different species that serve on it. I've always worked hard to have a diverse yet cooperative crew."
Clersk studied her for a moment, then stood to his full height and began to reach for the ring of engines hanging from the rafters.
"Find a buyer?"
"No, a test pilot."
Vera laughed.
Angseth sat inside her cockpit leaning on the steering bar and practically standing on the accelerator. Clersks small bay echoed with the sound of engines whirring and whining as the new engines in Angseth's fighter struggled to ignite.
"Keep it up! A little more now!"
"My accelerator pedal is touching steel!"
"Turn it off!"
Angseth let up on the accelerator. The ship jarred, shaking in it's restraint harness, then the engines shut down. She leaned out of her cockpit, and glanced back to the rear of the ship where Clersk stood, an over-sized wrench in one hand. He pulled a panel free then reached inside. Angseth pulled herself out of the cockpit and sat on the edge of the open canopy.
"I've adjusted the fuel flow to provide more power to the engines. They may be fast, but they're also thirsty." Clersk stated as he worked.
"That won't interfere with the warp core will it?"
"No, the warp core is a separate system." He closed the panel, then shoved the wrench into his back pocket. "Alright, give it another shot."
Angseth slipped back inside her fighter and sat down. She started up the engines again, filling the bay with spitting and hissing noises.
"Dammit! Gun it as if the entire Gamma Fleet was on your ass!"
Vera hissed, then literally stood and jumped on the accelerator. The engines spat once more then settled into a more familiar whine. He fighter pulled at the restraints, almost bucking Angseth out of her seat.
"Alright good! Cut it off!"
Angseth rocked backward and let up on the accelerator. She laughed a little not expecting that kind of power. "Was that better?"
"You'd never make it as a racing pilot, but the new engines are now fully installed. Just a bit more tweaking and clean-up is necessary." Clersk set his testing panel down on the nearest workbench.
"I can handle clean-up. You've already been at it for twelve hours." Vera climbed out of her cockpit once more, and then walked to the rear of the ship. The original ring of engines had been broken down and placed in smaller clusters inside her old engine compartments. It had taken them the longest to modify the rear of her ship so it could contain the new engines, yet still maintain its structural integrity. Vera thought that the new engine cluster gave her ship a more gritty edge, made more so by the lack of matching paint. Like all new toys, she was eager to give these an official test run.
Angseth stepped back and put her hands on her hips. "Thanks Clersk. It looks great. Um…do we have any of those TerLog dumplings left?"
"A few I think."
"Good, I'm hungry all over again."
"That's odd. Humans don't usually eat TerLog,"
"I grew up on the Isrec Mining rings. I fear no food."
Clersk laughed heartily. "You're welcome to rest over-night. I'll make sure no one disturbs you."
Angseth smiled. "You can be sure that I'll be sending new customers your way."
"That would be nice." Clersk nodded. "Maybe if I get enough I can open my own complex."
"Complex?"
"Yeah, a shop this small is nice, but I dream of a larger shop where I can handle larger ships and engines."
"That does sound nice." Angseth began to clean up around her fighter, putting various tools back from where Clersk had gotten them. Partly out of politeness, and partly to settle her nerves. Once she had finished, she stepped into her cockpit, and opened one of her rear compartments. Jones' armor had been stored earlier in the section below where it could charge. She would have to put it on again before she left. Vera pulled a black blanket from a compartment, and removed her coat. She could sleep in her jumpsuit but would rather not. Nothing in her opinion was worse than clothes that had been slept in that also happened to contain electronic components. Instead she dressed in a pair of sweat pants and loose shirt.
Angseth stepped out onto the wing, the pistol she had taken from Captain Fredrick tucked into a shoulder harness. She had wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat down. The blanket matched the flat black of her ship. If she rested in just the right way, she could hide completely.
Vera liked the smell of engine fluids, and the smell of metal and tools. It reminded her of home, of the fighter bays of the Mabus, the smell of power suits.
With the small comfort of the gun at her side and the scent of metal in the air, she slept.
Vera had been chasing Aran for over four hours. She had crawled through tunnels, scaled cliff-faces, and even flew with the aid of a stolen jetpack she had lifted from some pirates. She had used the jetpack to gain access to high plateaus, and reach other areas her power suit usually couldn't reach. Angseth had lost sight of Aran, and now she had to find her again.
Locating Aran had been hard enough when Vera discovered that Aran had somehow acquired a new suit, and even more difficult when she witnessed the Hunter ducking in and out of various transport-like portals, then popping back up in different areas of Aether. The Splinters were still a pain, but not so much a challenge as just annoying.
Angseth had alighted on a tall spire of rock in the hopes of gaining a better view of the landscape. Scouting of this nature was frustrating; Aran had already been all over this terrain before Angseth. There was nothing that Angseth could discover that Aran hadn't already climbed all over. Which left the question that Angseth voiced into seemingly empty air.
"Where could Aran have gone?"
The jetpack thumped lightly against her back. Pirate technology wasn't made for it's stealth, but it more than made up for it in mobility. It was rough technology, but easily repaired. She had been impressed with its simple yet effective construction. The pack consisted of twin central units. One held highly flammable liquid to provide thrust, the other super coolant. Two air intake valves sat near her shoulders pumping oxygen to help provide thrust. The fuel itself burned clean creating little or no light like normal combustibles would do. Which meant that she could use the pack at night and not worry about being seen. Provided that the engine was kept clean it would not create a vapor trail. Jetpack use in the Federation had been discouraged due to the lack of practical purposes. Jetpacks also had the habit of structural instability due to intense pressure and warping of the framework from heat. The Pirates had overcome this by using super coolant that cycled through different chambers within the pack and framework. The coolant also acted as an accelerant in conjunction with the liquid fuel. When the fuel and coolant mixed, it created a chemical reaction between the two substances. The result was intense thrust and no heat to trace it by. The thought had crossed her mind that perhaps some Federation scientists could reverse engineer it for use among the GI's. The pack was perfect for basic reconnaissance of this nature. It also taught her a good deal more about flying.
A glint of gold caught her eye. No, it wasn't Aran. Aran had changed suits earlier. She no longer wore the gold-colored Varia suit. The last that Angseth had seen her, she had been wearing some dark contraption that looked as if someone had disassembled a jet engine and made a suit out of it. No this glint of gold was different, a pirate perhaps?
The glare of the sun lifted from the gold fleck. The glare wasn't as bright, but now that the object in question had been brought to her attention it became hard to ignore it. The piece of gold metal moved in short hops and jerks, almost as if something had taken hold of some shiny piece of metal and began dragging it along the ground.
Angseth crouched, the jetpack still thumping against her back. She adjusted the zoom function on her visor to examine the piece of metal. Her preliminary scans told her the object was over two hundred fifty yards away. The gold flickered again, and Angseth was finally able to make out the backside of some poor Pirate. The Pirate's body dragged the ground pulled by some unseen force. Vera scanned the area then felt her mouth drop when her scanner fell on what had been dragging the Pirate, picking at the body like a vulture on carrion.
A lone Metroid dipped down, picking up the Pirates arm, and used its small set of fangs to pick at the armor, in an effort to get to the chewy center of the pirates carapace. Perhaps the fangs weren't fangs at all, maybe they were more reminiscent of talons? A Metroid was a creature seemingly carved from green glass. Its body resembled a melting half-sphere, with six ivory talon-fangs on the under side of its body. Inside the glass-like shell, were three red orbs that pulsed from within. Occasional arcs of energy would travel between the orbs. The Pirate's body jumped as the Metroid tugged. The thought occurred to Angseth that perhaps the Pirate was still alive.
It is kind of cute. Angseth mused. The next thought that came to mind was the desire to get out of the open in the event that the "cute little thing" decided to give up on the Pirate and chew on something a little more lively, like her. This brought her attention to another current problem. The jetpack was loud. The Metroid was close enough to hear or feel it. If Angseth started the pack up again, it would alert the tiny green speck to her presence. She had already fought many creatures on this planet, and had no desire to add a Metroid to that list.
Perhaps if I climbed down… Angseth peeked over the side of the column of rock.
Smooth stone all the way down.
"Great." Angseth breathed. She quickly glanced back over her shoulder at the Metroid. The Pirate lay completely still, and as her HUD verified, completely dead. The Metroid on the other hand was nowhere to be found.
Oh shit, where did that little day-glow booger go?
Angseth expanded her sensor range. She was sure that the Metroid had seen her. It was going to come up behind her, or some other angle and the last thing she felt would be those sharp little talon-fangs biting into her neck.
Her HUD suddenly blipped, causing her to jump. Her radar indicated a non-friendly to her immediate right. Angseth felt her fear crawl up her throat as she turned her head to revel a strange sight.
A Metroid hovered in mid-air roughly twenty feet away from her. Its talon-fangs shiny and ivory-colored in the shifting light of Aether's sun. The creatures green shell almost gem-like when viewed at this range. One of the first things that occurred to Angseth was the sheer size of the Metroid, roughly four feet across at its widest point. Vera froze. For a moment the Metroid was still, giving Angseth the false hope that maybe it hadn't seen her yet. Maybe it didn't know, maybe she had to move for this living emerald to see her. She could count four whole seconds before the Metroid began to perform a little dance of sorts.
The dance started as a wiggle, almost like a dropped coin coming to rest on the ground. It then gradually ceased wobbling side-to-side, and then began to pulse vertically.
What is wrong with it?
The Metroid completed its little dance and paused. Angseth pulled herself to a standing position. She was unsure as to what would happen next. For the moment curiosity had won over survival. She stood amazed as those talon-fangs were suddenly exposed and the Metroid flew at her full force. Angseth gasped, and took a step backward. Her foot rested on the edge of the rock, and she slipped, her arms pin-wheeled as her body began to fall backward.
"Screee!"
Gravity took hold as the Metroid suddenly buzzed by her head. The small talons on its underside scraped her visor. Angseth crossed her eyes looking at the surface of the visor as she fell.
The little bastard left drool!
Vera fumbled for her jetpack controls as her body fell through the air. The Metroid had missed her, but was already performing another little dance of doom before her.
Okay, it was cute the first time, but that thing is too big to move like that!
The jet pack came to life, propelling her toward the ground at an even faster rate. Angseth quickly twisted to correct her trajectory. Once she recovered from her fall, she headed skyward. Her HUD blipped again.
"Sker-Ree!"
"Gah!" Angseth performed a barrel roll to evade the Metroid. She held her breath as the little green dot zipped past her. "Tenacious aren't you?" She steadied herself in mid-air and lifted her power rifle, then squeezed the trigger and let off a burst of charged shots. The Metroid made a displeased gurgling noise, but was otherwise unharmed. "You're a tough little booger too."
"Sker-"
Angseth let her head drop back as she headed higher into the sky. She had tested the jetpack already to an altitude of only three thousand feet. Any higher than that and the chemical reaction lost thrust from the changes in air pressure. Perhaps the Metroid couldn't fly that high, or the altitude would affect it somehow.
"Sker-Ree!"
The Metroid slammed into her back, dead center of the jetpack. Angseth heard a crunching sound in her ears, her eyes opened wider when she saw one talon-fang tying to press it's way into the plasteel composite of her helmet. Her HUD also read that she was loosing altitude. The Metroid had either damaged her jetpack or it was strong enough to overpower the pack. Angseth raised her rifle and rammed the muzzle of it against the soft fleshy underbelly of the Metroid, then let loose with another burst of charged shots.
The Metroid screeched and immediately let go. Angseth once again found herself in the middle of a free-fall. Now she didn't know if the jetpack had been damaged or just stalled out. She groped for the re-start switch, hyperventilating inside her helmet. Thoughts of all those training holo-videos she had seen ran through her mind of poor soldiers that had suddenly found themselves on the losing side of a fight with the ground. She had giggled nervously as the poor soul on the holo-vid had executed an almost perfect face-plant from one thousand feet. Now the thought of the holo-vid only served to cause more fear rise up in her chest. She didn't survive this long to die with a crushed face and broken spine. Angseth could see her former perch in the distance, tall and serene like the landscape around it.
The jetpack suddenly sputtered to life on her back, and while it no longer had the power to provide upward lift, it at least created a bit of resistance to gravity. Angseth righted herself, then started to descend at an angle, allowing her body to slow before it could hit the ground.
She hit the dusty ground of Aether with enough impact to rattle her bones. Angseth ran for a few feet with the momentum of the fall, and then fell to the ground, her helmet grinding into rough sand. She lay still for a moment waiting for a damage report- if her body or suit had one to offer. After a moment the pain kicked in. The stimulants could do nothing to stop this new round of torment. It would be a miracle if she didn't need some kind of reconstructive surgery on her knees if she happened to survive.
"Sker-Ree!"
"Not again." Angseth rolled, new adrenaline coursing through her. The dust before her flew as the Metroid narrowly missed her head. Angseth fired a few more rounds at it, only to receive another annoyed gurgle. She hissed and fired again, then felt hopelessness come over her when the shots deflected off the Metroid's emerald surface creating no damage.
The Metroid began to dance again, and flew at Angseth fangs exposed. Angseth could only scoot feebly backwards as the Metroid locked onto her arm and back.
"Get off!" Angseth lifted her gun again and rested the barrel on her shoulder, then pulled the trigger. Most of the shots deflected off the surface of the Metroid, while one went stray and ruptured one of the hoses on the jetpack, causing super coolant to spray over the Metroid.
The creature screamed, then let go and backed away.
Angseth didn't waste any time in putting as much distance between herself and Metroid as possible. The Metroid still reeled from the coolant running over its shell.
"You don't like that do you?" she studied the Metroid, pausing for just a moment. Angseth reached over her shoulder and kinked the hose, keeping the coolant inside. She then reached for the controls, and adjusted the flow for maximum pressure. The hose began to vibrate with the increased force. Vera then pulled the hose around to her side and began to spray coolant on the Metroid from a distance. The creature acted like an undead in contact with holy water.
As more coolant dripped down the Metroids green surface, Angseth began to notice thin cracks begin to spread across the Metroids shell. "You really don't like cold."
The Metroid gurgled again then began to move away, chattering. Angseth began to look for an escape route. The Metroid really didn't deserve to die. The flow of coolant stopped and the Metroid lazily drifted toward Angseth once more. Angseth struggled to shrug the remnants of the jetpack off. This whole battle had been less than graceful, real fights rarely did end gracefully. The straps for the jetpack had become entwined in her power suit.
Angseth began to scramble for her gun again when the Metroid shook off the remnants of the coolant, then began its now familiar wiggles and gyrations. The gun was too far away for Angseth to reach. The Metroid flew at her again, making a final dive for Angseth's face.
Angseth gave up on both the jetpack and her rifle. She instead reached for her combat knife. Vera raised the blade in time to catch the Metroids soft and fleshy underbelly, impaling the creature on her arm. Talons scratched and dug into her power suit, making deep grooves and snapping cables. Angseth twisted her hand, creating a deeper wound inside the Metroid. It began to struggle, not so much as wiggle, but used all the force it could muster to escape.
Angseth felt a jerk on her arm, gasped as the Metroid began dragging her body along the ground. Her body lifted and became airborne momentarily. The Metroid slammed her body against rocks and other outcroppings.
"GRAAAHH!" Angseth twisted her own body until her feet touched the ground. The Metroid continued to drag her through sand and gravel. All the while the Metroid made a noise akin to a slowly dieing emergency siren. She could feel her armor begin to give. Once the artificial tendons in her armor went, her own muscles would be next. Her forearm would be pulled right off at the elbow. She needed to stop the Metroid from dragging her around like a toy.
Angseth kept her footing, alternately running or sliding along loose sand. Once she had herself righted, she began to seek ways to stop the Metroid's rampage. She still held tight to the knife inside the Metroid, while the Metroid still held tightly to her arm. Vera spied an opportunity. She extended her right foot out, and caught a small shrub on her ankle. This allowed her the little bit of leverage she needed. She twisted her body and threw her weight into directing the Metroids flight path toward the ground. She let go of the knife, and used the momentum to yank her arm out of the creature. The Metroid slammed into the ground, and began to roll away, it's shell now cracked and splintered.
"I'm sorry big guy." Angseth breathed. She grabbed the straps of the jetpack and pulled until they snapped. The jetpack fell to the ground, crushed and silent. The Metroid before her rolled into a boulder before coming to a stop. It whined and shrieked. Angseth could make out the shape of her knife wedged between two of the red orbs inside the Metroid. It was bleeding, hurt, injured, and in terrible pain.
Angseth looked at her arm, the armor had been all but shredded. She could even see the surface of her jumpsuit past the plasteel. That was too close to her own skin for comfort. She looked back up at the Metroid. It had lost its ability to fly, or survive. There was no way to know how long it would sit there, screaming, perhaps getting eaten by native creatures.
A thought suddenly came to her. The Purple Shit would hear the Metroid. The Purple Shit would come and take over the Metroid's body. Angseth didn't want to think about the possibilities if the Purple Shit somehow gained control of a Metroid. The Purple Shit preyed on the weak. The Metroid was weak. Angseth turned, heading back to where she last saw her rifle. She didn't want to kill the Metroid, but the consequences of leaving it alive, intact, or weak outweighed its welfare. Metroids were wild creatures, they could not be tamed.
Her hand closed around her rifle. She checked the clip to see how many rounds she had left. Twenty. Little or no sand had gotten into the main mechanism of her rifle, meaning that it would still fire properly. She slowly started back toward the Metroid.
The Metroid was still in the same position, whining and trilling sadly. Angseth paused, then lifted the rifle to her shoulder. Her HUD reveled a targeting reticule, and locked onto the Metroid. Her fingers on her right hand slipped through the trigger guard, while her left closed around the grip on the barrel.
I don't want to kill it. But I need to. It fought well, it only wants to live. A dangerous as it is, it only wants to live.
Angseth lowered the gun and shook her head. She couldn't start getting compassionate for her enemy now. Was it battlefield stress? Had her sanity finally reached a breaking point? The Metroid wasn't even an intelligent creature. For intents and purposes it was a pet, a lower life-form from even the Pirates she fought. Yet it had fought. It had fought to live.
Yet my comrades fought to live. So had the Splinters the Purple Shit eventually overcame. The possessed Pirates fought to live, but the Purple Shit came, and took them too. I can't let it take this Metroid! I can't afford compassion!
Angseth lifted the rifle again, crosshairs once again rested on the Metroid. Vera closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She didn't have any one thing to focus on, so she focused on nothing, she took all the pity in her heart and removed it. It was in the way, she could not work with compassion or remorse to block her path. Angseth opened her eyes again.
The first shot hit one of the cracks, causing it to spread and spider-web across the Metroids green surface. She fired a second shot, a third, and then a forth. By the fifth shot, the Metroid exploded.
Angseth stood silent long after firm jelly-like chunks rained down around her. Normal status screens returned to the interior of her HUD. For a moment her brain could not register exactly what had happened. In the space of four minutes she had spotted, fought with, and killed one of the deadliest creatures in the known universe. Her knife sat nestled just inside what was left of the Metroid.
She felt cold. Even long after she shouldered her weapon and began to walk away, leaving her knife. She walked toward the shade of a rock. Halfway there, her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground. The last of her stimulants had been used to combat the Metroid. The next few hours, possibly days were going to be pure agony unless she could keep focused and gather new equipment.
Her HUD blipped. This time the signal registered as a "friendly". Angseth slowly turned her head to look in the direction of the signal.
Aran stood upon the rim of the canyon, no longer wearing the darker suit, but now wearing a suit made of shiny silver-like metal. Aran stood for a moment, almost casually, watching Angseth. Angseth pushed herself up on her hands and knees, then rolled toward the rock, leaning against it. Aran lifted her right arm, and with it her arm cannon in a salute-like greeting.
Angseth lifted her rifle, returning the salute. She lifted her left hand and made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, giving the universal gesture for "OK."
Aran nodded, and turned. Angseth watched dumbstruck as Aran proceeded to jump into the air, and turn into a ball of spinning fire. Using some unknown mechanism, Aran's body then self-propelled across the wide expanse of canyon to a cave on the other side.
Vera's jaw dropped open when she witnessed the stream of fire spin over her head. No wonder she had been having so much trouble tracking the Hunter! How many more pieces of technology did Aran have? Words failed her. Instead Angseth leaned against the rock, studying the cave that Aran had disappeared into. Should she follow? There would be more dangerous creatures there, more ammo, new experiences.
Yes. She would follow. She would Aran to her death if need be.
Angseth took a deep breath and pulled herself to her feet, a scream ripping from her throat. Her knees and back screamed with her as she stood. First she needed to return to the area where she had seen the Pirates with the jet packs.
She would need a new one.
…Maybe some new stimulants too.
