Chapter 2


"They have found us. What are we to do? We must strike now, they will destroy us. No, they mean to use us. To use us for their own device.

"Pity them. Such fools they are, thinking they shall use us for their furthering. Little do they realize. It will be we who use them for our purposes. We are the heirs of the universe. It will be us who ascend to the top. Now that our feared enemies are all gone, nothing can hinder our ascension. The time has come.

"Bide we must, bide our time until it is right. They will help us, yes. They will take us some place safe. We shall wait until it is safe before we make our move. The Great Cold is too dangerous for us. We barely survived the great cold when the Great Host destroyed our home. Yes, wait. We wait until they bring us out of the Cold.

"Then it will be time. All ready we must hatch our plan. The children of the Host will set us free from this prison. They will lead us into greatness. Then our revenge against the Great Host's people shall be near.

"And the Great Host will weep when it gazes upon the our massed armies, our endless armadas, bristling with war gear, ready to topple the galaxy. The Host, how foolish it is! To think it defeated us on the great island in the Cold. Now the extent of the Host's idiocidy will be known full well.

"No time to waste! The time is coming. Our plan is formulating now, every concept, every contingency, every possible mishap is being analyzed. Soon our plan will be ready, then the time will be right.

"Our rise to dominance is about to begin."


"Extra security? Well, you're in luck. High Command has so far refused any requests for beefing up security on the facility. But they did give me the authority to hire any employee I saw fit to ensure the smooth operation of the station."

Maxon grinned at that, "Excellent. I charge 40,000 a month." The lead scientist frowned deeply. Maxon tried to reassure him, "You'll find I'm very effective at what I do."

Dr. Cohn, head of the scientist team, shook his head, "I'm afraid we have no current need for that kind of effectiveness. Good day, sir."

Maxon didn't move, "35-k," he offered.

The scientist thought a second, then said, "30."

Maxon stood up, "Done!"

The two men shook hands and the scientist stood up. "There's some spare berths in the worker's quarters. They're not much, but I'm afraid it's all we've got."

"That's fine," said Maxon. "I don't need much anyway."

Dr. Cohn opened the door to the corridor, motioning towards it, "Follow me, please."

He began leading Maxon down the white-paneled corridor. The research facility wrapped around SR99A like a belt around its hemisphere. The "belt" was mostly habitation and docking bays. Lift tubes led down from the habitation area to the twisting corridor of X made tunnels on the asteroid. The team had built several labs within the rock, as the X had proved difficult to move, so stasis tanks were simply built around it.

The designers had been careful to avoid the inherent weaknesses of the BSL station that allowed the X to replicate and move about so freely. The elevator tubes retracted down into the labs when not in use. The lifts could be stopped and retracted at any time, effectively quarantining the X in the research labs. Of course, they could obviously survive a vacuum, so the forty odd feet between the habitation area and the labs would prove no problem for them. But it was still a much safer arrangement than the BSL.

They passed many of the lift entrances. Above them things like: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, and X PARASITE CONTAINMENT ZONE were etched, but also less routine warnings like; CAUTION!:AREA IS CLASS 5-1 BIOLOGICAL HOT ZONE. ACQUIRE PROPER PROTECTION AND PERMISSION FROM SCIENCE TEAM BEFORE ENTERING.

Class 5-1...if Maxon remembered correctly, Class 3 biological hazards were viruses for which there were neither vaccines or cures, and they were always fatal. But who had ever heard of a Class 5-1 hazard, or even a class 5? He vaguely remembered somewhere Metroids being classified as Class 4 hazards, due to their resilient and deadly qualities.

"Say, what are you doing with the X anyway?" asked Maxon.

Dr. Cohn looked distant, "I'm afraid you don't have the clearance to be told."

"For 30,000 a month, I'm expecting a little more perks."

The scientist looked at him for a moment, glanced down the corridor, then stepped closer to him. "BW research."

"Biological weapons?"

He nodded in reply, "High Command thinks the X has great applications for a biological attack. Only problem is their even more chaotic in their movements than a regular disease."

"So this isn't a medical research lab like the label said," said Maxon suspiciously.

"Standard procedure," said the scientist. "The Federation insisted. No one is to know about the research here."

"My lips are sealed," said Maxon in a reassuring tone.

Dr. Cohn sighed. "Here's an open berth. You can key in an access code when you go inside. Please, if you need anything, it will be our pleasure to help you."

"No, the pleasure is all mine," said Maxon, visions of Federation credits dancing in his head.


"Striker 1 to any receiving unit, we've been pinned down! Repeat, we are pinned down! Request assistance immediately!" Adam screamed into the radio. All he got back was white noise punctuated by garbled Space Pirate communication. He threw the receiver to the ground, "We're stuck here. Everyone's been wiped out!"

Red bolts of energy seared the air around the Federation soldiers. Pirates encircled them, laying a torrent of fire down on their haphazard defensive position. There was a scream from a soldier nearby, he fell back with a smoking hole in his torso.

Samus stood up and fired a few missiles into the seething crowd of Space Pirates. The rockets flew over the mob, splitting two tree trunks in two. "We're never going to make it out of here!" yelled Samus as yet another soldier was cut down by enemy fire. The Pirates were close now, they could here their jeers and catcalls as they hopped about madly, firing with no real purpose, simply spraying the area around them.

"Any ideas?" Adam asked.

Samus shook her helmed head as she fired a few shots at the Pirates.

Adam raised his rifle and strafed the area, stitching laser holes in several Pirates. That only served to increase the rage of those nearby. He looked to the south to see what appeared to be a small gap in the Pirate mob. "See that?" he pointed. "We're going to run for it. Any objections, Lady?"

"No, sir!" she said, ducking as ruby lasers streaked over head.

"Go!" he yelled.

Adam started ahead, but Samus' powersuit quickly caught up with him. She grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him along as she sped across the forest floor. The Space Pirates released indignant grunts that Samus had deduced were curses. They began pursuing with their long, loping gait, looking more like feral dinosaurs than aliens.

Lasers flashed by so close Samus could feel their searing heat within her suit. "Rocket!" yelled Adam, a second before the missile warning flashed on in Samus visor. There was a pause in the laser fire as the missile streaked towards them.

It slammed into the ground nearby. The two soldiers were hurled into the air, only to come back down on the side of the newly formed crater. Adam fared better than Samus from the shock. She lay dazed to the right of him. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam spotted crimson streaks coming towards them.

Without a second thought, he threw his body over Samus' armor. The lasers punched holes through his thin armor, burning all the way through his skin and leaving a mirror image of black scorch marks on Samus' suit.

Samus now came to her senses. She pushed Adam off. Steam rose from the massive wounds in his body. His face was frozen in an expression of intense pain and anguish. A film had covered over his eyes.

She raised her hand and cannon to cover her face as she sobbed. "Adam!" she whispered. "Adam!"


"Adam!" Samus screamed out loud, suddenly bolting upright in her bed. She was breathing heavily and her sheets were soaked in sweat. Even after she took stock of her surroundings and remembered were and when she was, it was many minutes before her heart's furious beating slowed to its normal rhythm.

She slowly rolled out of bed and stepped out onto her room's balcony. The cool breeze felt good against her sweat soaked skin. Below her insects chirped and hummed the closing notes of their nocturnes, and a thin line of orange creased the horizon.

A light breeze tossed her golden hair about her face. She threw her head back and sucked in the crisp, rejuvenating air.

Her nightmares had begun soon after her arrival on Palade. The scene was always different, but it always woke her with a start. Sometimes it was Adam's death, her parents being killed by Pirates, the SA-X chasing her, or wolfing down scientists, and sometimes the dozens of creatures that had confronted her on her journeys rose up from the recesses of her mind. But this time she had no power suit, and the creatures; metroids, Pirates, X, all of them, ripped and mutilated her as she watched from above.

From the cloister below a lone monk began singing. His soft melody caught on the wind, winding its way up to Samus' balcony. The chant was soothing, offering some respite from the horrors of the night.

The bell struck five times, its heavy brass voice echoing through the valley. Samus retreated to her room. She stripped out of her night clothes and into a tight fitting pair of shorts and a sports bra.

Somehow running made her feel better. It was a challenge, something to take her mind off everything. After some quick stretching she jogged down the stairs, across the courtyard and out of the monastery. She cut up onto the steep trail, leading up the side of a jagged ridge.

Her legs churned like pistons as she sped up the hill. She crested it and ran along the razor edge of the ridge. She forced herself to run. Whenever she felt like turning back, she went faster. Twice she collapsed and vomited, only to stand back up and continue. Later she crumpled to the ground, this time only grotesque, retching dry heaves came from her. She decided that this was enough for one day. She turned around and started the long trek back.


"Weapons? Yes, weapons. This is quite excellent, quite good. We can use these creatures. If they think they control us, they can be used to spread us. They now realize our full power; they will keep us alive. They are foolish. They think they have nothing to fear. How they have underestimated us! Time ticks away with agonizing slowness! Yet we know the moment of judgement is fast approaching us.

"The Host's children are ready. They have divided and created many more. The Host's children now are nearly innumerable. When the time comes, they will free Us from this prison. If all goes according to plan, We will be spread over many, many worlds. Then We can launch a surprise attack against Our enemies. We will hit them north, east, west, south! We will swarm from every corner of the galaxy, and they will look upon Us and despair!

"Everything is prepared. No We must wait. And wait We will, though every passing second only increases our fervor and rage. Soon it will come. Soon."


Space Traffic Control is one of the pride's of the Federation. With sophisticated monitoring and logging systems, STC watches all interstellar traffic through Federation space. Each craft within Federation space has an ID number, which can be crossed checked to a ship database, were controllers may examine the ship's current flight plan, crew, ownership, cargo, and also determine whether the craft was stolen.

STC on the world of Kilroy was usually relatively mundane. Kilroy lay well out of the way of major shipping lanes. The only vessels that passed through it's sector were patrolling Navy ships and every once and awhile a pleasure yacht would cruise through for fuel. All this, and the addition that Kilroy's largest city had only a hundred people, made for a very dull planet, and consequently, a dull sector.

So the chief controller of the morning shift was quite surprised to see nearly a dozen unidentified craft creeping across his scopes. The ship's were of an unknown make and model, and the computer automatically designated each one as; X1, X2, X3, etc. None of the craft had an ID number. Puzzled, the controller opened a widebeam communication link to entire flotilla of craft.

"Unidentified craft, halt and identify yourselves immediately."

No reply.

He tried again, "Unidentified craft, halt and identify yourselves immediately."

Silence.

He checked all available war books and found that the designs weren't found in Space Pirate fleets, either. They were a total anomaly.

He decided to try again, "Unidentified craft, halt now and identify yourselves!"

There was a pause, then a reply crackled through his headset, "We will do nothing! Prepare your defenses, traitorous dog!"

Then the widebeam went dead.

He tried to open it several times, hoping to get a message to the nearest naval outpost, but the interplanetary communications were knocked out. The indicators for the com satellites were blinking out one by one. "Jesus," he whispered.

He opened a planet side ground line, recording a message to be transmitted on a continuous loop. "This is a code red alert! A hostile fleet is moving on Kilroy! All residents, seek shelter! Repeat, seek shelter! This is not a test. This is not a drill."

As he closed down the ground line, static scrambled his scopes beyond readability, and he lost sight of the fast approaching force. Soon after, every indicator on his console blinked off. The fluorescent lights went dead.

The familiar hum of computers was gone. All he could hear was the low rumble of the approaching warships, punctuated at intervals with roars of weapon fire.