Searching For a Ship
Samus awoke to the sound of Adam's voice.
"Samus, we have arrived."
She got out of bed, still somewhat tired but feeling much better than before. Her movement stirred her Etecoon friend awake. He bounced off the bed and ran over to the auto-lift, stopping and patiently waiting as it carried him to the upper deck.
Samus checked the time readout on her HUD. It had been seven hours since she fell asleep.
She moved over to the auto-lift. The platform, sensing her awaiting it, moved down much quicker than it would with an occupant. She stepped on.
On the upper deck, the Etecoons and Dachoras were active, exploring and playing with each other. Samus entered the main cabin. Out the main viewport, a large, green and blue planet loomed.
"Planet GR-78," Adam said. "Home to many trading outposts. You'll likely be able to find a new ship here, but you won't want to stay long. This is a highly visible corner of the galaxy, and not a great hiding place."
"Noted," Samus said. "What about you? What if we can't find a ship you are compatible with?"
"Our priority should be finding you a ship you can use. Whether or not I am compatible with its computer systems is a secondary concern at best."
"Not to me it isn't. We'll find a ship we can transfer you to."
"We may not have that luxury."
"If we don't find a ship you can use," Samus said, "then we'll look somewhere else. I won't accept other alternatives."
"Stubborn as always, Samus. I do not believe it is in your best interest to have that concern, but I am in no position to assert authority over you. You may do as you wish."
"I appreciate it, Adam. I have to say, it does feel nice not to be ordered around by you."
"I'm sure it does."
Samus took over the ship's controls, bringing it down toward the planet's surface. The ship rocketed across the sky, heading for a large city. As they approached, an incoming transmission lit up the HUD. It declared itself to be from city patrol. Samus accepted the transmission.
"State your purpose, or be detained upon landing," a gruff voice said over the speakers.
"I'm here to buy a ship," Samus said.
"You have a ship."
"I'm here to buy another ship."
"Are there stolen goods aboard your ship?" the voice asked.
"No." Technically true, though the ship itself was another story.
"Your ship has an unidentified signature. It's been tampered with. Prepare to be searched." The transmission cut out.
Uh oh, Samus thought. "Adam?"
"Yes, lady?"
"Is this outpost Federation-controlled?"
"Yes."
"Then why," Samus asked, exasperated, "did you bring us here?"
"Because I knew it was our best shot at finding a ship within 15 light years from SR388. And I didn't expect the security to be as... enthusiastic as it is."
"Well, you can probably thank us blowing up SR388 and the B.S.L. station for that. We need to get out of here, now."
"Agreed," Adam said. "A cursory inspection would be enough to reveal this ship as a stolen Federation vehicle."
Samus banked upward and laid on the thrusters, rapidly sending the ship out of the planet's atmosphere.
"We need to find a planet outside the reach of the Galactic Federation," Samus said. "Probably one that outlaws and criminals frequent."
"Good, we will fit right in."
"We might be on the wrong side of the law, but we did the right thing. You know it, or you wouldn't have helped me."
"The nearest unsavory hideout for thieves is about 35.42 light years away. A 32-hour trip at this ship's highest warp speed."
"Let's go there, then," Samus said.
"And the ship will have approximately 1.24 percent of its fuel remaining when we arrive."
"Well, then we'd better hope that it's the place for us."
Samus knew the Etecoons and Dachoras were probably hungry, so she went down to the food preparation area to see what they had. What did Etecoons and Dachoras eat? She had no idea.
She grabbed seven ration packs and warmed them up in the ship's small food heater. Emptying a couple of the packs into a blender, she mixed it up with water into an unappetizing-looking brown concoction, then stuck a long straw in it. Opening her visor, she threaded the top opening of the straw through and into her mouth, and drank her meal. It certainly didn't taste great, but since she was hungry, and had little other options for eating thanks to her Fusion Suit, she managed to gulp it down. Then she brought the other ration packs up to give to the creatures.
They crowded around her, eager to see what food she had. She opened the ration packs and laid them on the ground, where the Etecoons and Dachoras inspected them. Seeming pleased, they dug in. The Etecoons picked out the vegetables, leaving the meat, while the mother Dachora picked up bits of meat, eating some and feeding small pieces to her child. The two species seemed like a perfect match for their mutualistic relationship.
Samus laid out bowls of water for them to drink and left them to their meals.
"Welcome to Motley 5," Adam's voice sounded from within Samus's suit.
She stood in rain-drenched mud outside the ship, which had landed moments before. Visibility was poor. The moon, apparently, was plagued by nearly incessant rainstorms. It orbited a large gas giant with a highly varied, colorful appearance, and was numbered as the last of its five moons. While habitable, it was hardly ideal for living thanks to its weather, so it became a hub for criminals.
"The local establishment is about an hour-long walk from here," Adam said. "You should be able to make it in about two minutes."
Behind Samus, bands of light radiated down from the ship, and in a flash of light, the Etecoons and Dachoras appeared. They ventured out into the rain, somewhat cautiously.
"Will they come back to the ship?" Samus asked.
"Most likely," Adam replied. "They appear to be attached to you, and recognize you as a source of safety."
Samus took off running. The muddy ground hindered her a little, but with the help of her suit, she quickly attained speeds impossible for a normal human being. At the top of a hill, she leapt through the air, spinning, maintaining her impressive momentum, and before she hit the ground, she jumped in the air again. Thanks to the space jump ability she had recovered on the B.S.L. station, she could virtually fly through the air.
"Samus, you're getting close. Drop to the ground and resume walking normally to avoid drawing attention to yourself."
Samus complied, landing in the mud in a crouched position, with one knee to the ground. She stood up and began walking.
The building was hard to make out through the torrential downpour, but it looked vaguely cylinder-shaped, and only tall enough to house a single floor. There were no windows that Samus could see. As she got closer, a door on the right side of the building became visible. She approached it, and it slid open, revealing another door. She stepped into the small entryway and the first door slid shut. The alcove was dimly lit, with mud plastered against the walls and floor.
Just as Samus was wondering when the second door would open, a loud noise signalled a large fan embedded within the ceiling turning on. The fan blew for about ten seconds, whisking most of the muddy water off of her suit. Then the second door opened, and the inside of the building was revealed.
Dim lights on the ceiling illuminated a room full of somewhat dirty metal tables and chairs, some occupied, others empty. On the far side of the room, a counter formed a semicircle along the curved wall of the building, with multiple stools running parallel along it.
The occupants of the room were a diverse group. Some were human, others not. None gave her more than a passing glance, except one: a space pirate that was sitting at the left corner of the counter. It looked up, saw her, made a noise that sounded like a startled squawk, and bolted out the nearest side door.
Samus scanned the room, looking for any other immediate threats. While some of the pub's clients were definitely packing weaponry, and a couple were hulking aliens bristling with threatening-looking appendages, none were of overtly hostile demeanor toward her.
She approached the counter. The bartender, casually leaning against the inner side of the counter, had his eyes on the galactic news being broadcast on a few screens hanging from the ceiling, but turned to address Samus when she sat down on one of the stools. He was human, and looked to be in his early thirties, with a small, neatly trimmed beard and relaxed brown eyes.
"Sorry," he said. "I don't serve any drinks for, um, robots."
In response, Samus retracted her visor, revealing her eyes and part of her face.
"Oh, you're not a robot!" the bartender said. "And you're a girl, if I'm not mistaken."
"How perceptive," she said. "Can I get a drink now?"
"Alright," the bartender said, amused. "What can I get you?"
Samus ordered a drink, and the bartender prepared it and handed it to her.
"Do you have a straw?" Samus asked.
"Why do you need a straw?"
"To drink this."
"Can't you take your helmet off?"
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Really?" the bartender said. "I don't believe you. Can you take the rest of the suit off?"
"No," Samus said, growing irritated. "Can you just get me a straw?"
"Alright, alright." He reached under the counter, grabbed a straw, and handed it to her. She used it to take a sip of her beverage. The bartender watched her, fascinated.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"None of your business."
"Alright, 'None of your business', good to meet you. My name's Kale."
Samus said nothing. A few minutes passed in silence.
"So," Kale said, "why can't you remove the suit?"
"It's fused parts of itself to my body."
"Interesting. Not saying I believe you, but interesting. Could it be surgically removed?"
"No."
"Okay." Suddenly, a smug look appeared on Kale's face, as if he had just thought of something that irrefutably proved she was lying. "If you can't take that suit off, then how do you poop?"
Samus smirked. What a childish question. "My suit has built-in waste disposal functionality, and that's all you need to know."
"Hmm. Fair enough, I guess. Are you hot underneath that suit?"
"It's temperature-controlled."
"That's not what I meant."
Samus couldn't believe she was having this conversation. "We're done talking about this. Look, do you know of anyone I could buy a ship from?"
"You need a ship, huh?" Kale paused. "You certainly didn't get here without a ship, but you want a new one, so your current ship must be marked, and you're probably running from something. You're quite fascinating, you know that?"
"How nice. Answer the question."
"Well, everyone here has a ship, obviously, but they all sort of need them, so they're unlikely to let you buy one off them. And they certainly won't want to trade for your marked ship."
"Okay, then I'm done here." Samus stood up.
"Wait," Kale said. "I might still be able to help you. I get a lot of customers, I know a lot of people. But I'll need to know more about you before I can help you more."
Samus suddenly became aware that the atmosphere in the pub had shifted. The room was dead silent, and all eyes were on her.
That can't be good, she thought.
A quick search revealed the problem: on the news screens, breaking news had appeared, accompanied by a picture of Samus in her Fusion Suit in its original colors. The statement read: "Wanted: Samus Aran, criminal bounty hunter. 5,000,000,000 credit reward for her capture, 2,500,000,000 for her death. Samus Aran is extremely dangerous, and recently caused the destruction of planet SR388. Contact your local Galactic Federation officer for details."
"Samus," Adam said, audible only to her, "this is not good. You need to leave."
Kale had followed her gaze and read the screen, too. "Samus, huh? Nice name. I like your new paint job, too."
Samus turned back to look at the rest of the room, to find that the two side exits were blocked by the large, menacing aliens, and the main entrance was blocked by several clientele, all with weapons drawn.
Samus sighed. So much for making a quick exit.
"If you have to fight," Adam said, "use non-lethal force. These people are not your enemy. They just want the bounty."
"It is quite the large sum," Samus replied. "They must really like what I did."
"We're taking you in," announced the de-facto leader of the now-hostile patrons of the pub, a dark-haired, muscled man pointing some sort of gun at her. "We'll kill you if we have to."
Samus didn't bother responding. After all, actions spoke louder than words. Her visor slammed shut in preparation for battle.
