Chapter 1 – Oddities

Excerpt from the log of Pirate Researcher T'kla-yith:

Subject: The Hive

The Hive is difficult to explain to someone not connected to it, I have discovered. We, as Pirates, are all born in the same way. We are cloned. I, as a scientist, was cloned from other scientists, hoping that increased intelligence would 'breed' true. Like all scientists, I have a basic, almost non existent connection to the Hive. The Hive taught me the language, the basic sciences, and ensured my loyalty. Supposedly. The rest of my thoughts are my own, as was determined necessary for scientists to have new ideas. But because of this freedom of thought, our loyalty is… less ensured than the warrior class, and thus we are watched with suspicion.

The full differences between various Pirate classes are a subject for another day.

The Hive, I have learned, is different for the various soldier class Pirates. It does teach them as it teaches we the scientists. They learn the language, a basic set of skills for their job, and it ensures loyalty. All these things are taught in a matter of minutes as the newly cloned warrior goes through his artificial growth stage. The final step before birth is when Mother touches our small, newly formed minds, and names us. For most, that is the most contact with mother they will ever have. That contact, though ensures the Hive loyalty. A basic soldier, then, a trooper, will go through life, accepting data from the Hive.

From talking to various others, I have learned it is a balancing process. The lower ranks have the highest degree of possibility to rebel, and the least skills to draw out of the Hive. If promoted, the Pirate goes and has his exo-armor changed, and Mother touches his mind again, congratulating him, and opening him further to the Hive, allowing access to more skills, but also ensuring that much more loyalty. And thus it goes. The type of skills mother grants depend upon the ranking and type of the Pirate. In some cases, I have found, when a commando was transferred, since he no longer needed his underwater tactics skills on a desert planet, he found he could no longer access them. This… dependence… on the Hive for information and skills ensures loyalty at all times, but it also limits us to whatever Mother wishes us to be.

The Guardians, those who protect Mother directly, are the only ones who can contact Mother at will. Their connection to the Hive is the strongest, but because of it, they are the most loyal. The Guardians go through gene augmentation in addition to technological enhancement, and are each… unique. However most of them seem to move by the maxim, bigger is better, though admittedly, most of them have quite a few tricks up their proverbial sleeves.

Hmm. It occurs to me that several of my comments here border on treasonous. Perhaps there is good reason they watch those of us with more freedom of the mind more carefully.

---

The craft was a new Pirate type, an Echo. It was a craft capable of incredible speeds. It could get so much speed because about ninety percent of it was dedicated to the engines. The other ten percent was divided into life-support, which would keep the 'pilot' in suspended animation for the trip; it's nearly unrivaled stealth technology, and the autopilot. It was named an Echo class because with the speed and stealth, the most an enemy would see was a sensor ghost as it went by. It was meant to be a long range drop ship with a passenger list of one.

It was also a one-way ticket because the engines burnt themselves out.

The occupants of the Pirate base Krig could care less about the craft, even if it was new. They wanted to see the new anti-Hunter weapon that was aboard. They had been told it was coming to them, to boost morale, and it had worked. Mother herself had approved it and virtually guaranteed it would have success against the Hunter. This was not the posturing of scientists begging for life, this was hope become reality.

When the craft almost gently ejected its passenger, they were almost disappointed. It stood erect like a terran, despite the faceplate and red veins on the surface, looking like nothing so much as a terran in a bug suit, no matter how frightening. But then… then it stood on the rail of its ship and observed them, crouched, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for it, and they relaxed a little.

The next morning, they learned that standing and walking were virtually the only things it did while straight up and down, and the Guardian did not like to do those. When still, it liked to crouch on thin railings, when running it hunched over for less wind resistance. For all it's structuring, it certainly acted like one of them.

---

Force Leader X'll-chak observed Guardian S'tome-r'nma. Certainly he no longer remembered the Pirate who had taken him and the others with him off that small world. The Guardian seemed impatient for news of the Hunter, however, and was likely to strike out on its own soon. It did not have patience. Of course that could have been a quality brought on by the lack of connection to the hive itself, for this Guardian was connected to, and only to, Mother Brain herself.

A trooper rushed in. "Force Leader! The Hunter has been spotted!"

The Guardian rushed over to hear the report as X'll-chak motioned for the trooper to continue.

"She's been spotted in the Torka desert. She accompanies several Federation Troopers."

The Guardian nodded. "I'm going. Don't bother coming after me unless your orders change." X'll-chack watched the other Pirate's back as he casually strolled out of the room. X'll-chak unclenched his mandibles after he'd left. Something about that one… irritated him.

---

S'tome-r'nma crouched quietly on the top of the canyon wall, shielded from prying eyes. As several reports of the Hunter mentioned her ability to see them while invisible, he made sure to stay out of her direct line of sight, uncertain whether she could penetrate his technique with whatever technology she used to detect them. He was forced to shift his position several times as she looked around her, but he was never in real danger of being spotted.

He could not attack just yet, so he watched. The Hunter was vigilant, to be certain, but she did not look up unless she had cause to. Sloppy, but given the sheer noise most Pirate flight systems made, understandable.

The reason he could not attack at the moment were the other troopers with her. While certainly without her they would prove no problem for one of his ability, they would provide just enough distraction that she was likely to be able to launch several effective strikes – possibly with the hated cold weapon. It was too much of a risk. If she was alone, he would confront her. If these troopers were alone, he would eliminate them. Together… just enough trouble to make it better to wait.

Patience was not his strong suit.

Still… he had his orders. When not actively hunting the Hunter, he was to know the lay of the land, and assist the other Pirates – discretely. No tipping the hand until he confronted the Hunter. But the Force Leader would definitely be interested in whatever that device the Federation soldiers were carrying. It seemed they had something they wanted to study.

He was not there when it was placed in the container, so he knew nothing about it. He switched on a primitive scanning tool. Nothing too advanced, but occasionally useful.

Hmm… In the container was an organism. Why it rated so much study from the Federation was something the Force Leader would have to look into. It wasn't even a complete organism, from what he could tell. Just the head of one. Well, it wasn't his concern if the terrans wanted a trophy of some kind. And if that wasn't it, then it was the Force Leader's problem, not his.

Wait. Looks like they're ready to begin moving again. As they moved through a doorway, he slipped right through the wall after them. The door opened into a tunnel, and S'tome-r'nma cursed mentally, and kept himself discorporate. While someone moving through him wouldn't feel him in a physical sense, they felt decidedly strange as it happened. He'd have to stay back. There was also the problem of proximity if the Hunter decided to turn around. He decided to hug the wall, and be ready to bolt into it if he had to.

The Hunter, fortunately, did not turn around. That would have been bad. Once out of the tunnel, he followed once more at a discrete distance, until they reached a portal like device and moved through. He cursed, and prepared to return to Krig. There was no telling where the portal went, and what the conditions were on the other side. If it moved directly into the terran base, he might as well wave a flag and scream his presence.

He sighed, and tried to let it go. There would be other opportunities. He would, in all honesty, like to see the Hunter in action a few times before he confronted her, to learn what patterns she favored. He wondered, briefly, if he should fake an attack pattern like his brethren, then discarded it. It smacked of cowardice, preparing for defeat like that.

He turned, and began the long march back to Krig. It had been hours to this place, and it would be hours back. He had noted several strange things. He would deliver his report to the Force Leader, then return to his quarters to commune with Mother. She would know what to do.

---

Samus was… uneasy… as she returned to the swampland outside Nedrig. The portal device was not it. It was combination Luminoth and Chozo technology, and as such she was more comfortable with it than most Federation transport vessels. The Federation didn't build their base around it because they didn't entirely control it, and wouldn't risk the security breach. Still, they built the base in what was roughly the center of all rifts here, giving them quick access when they needed it.

No. What made her uneasy was the fact that she'd felt like they were being watched until they came through the portal machine. She'd looked around several times, but not caught sight of anything, not even with the X-Ray visor. Still…

She shrugged it off. Probably her nerves. These last few days with Commander Tark breathing down her neck trying to get her to share anything about the nearby ruins, which they couldn't open, was wearing on her. It also made her suspicious. The Federation had never shown much interest in Chozo technology before now, thinking that they could match it with their own. Old or not, Chozo was still the best.

Still… never hurt to check. She flipped on her transponder.

"Adam… did you detect anything following us back from the prowler's den today?"

Prowelers… prowelers were tunneling creatures. Part giant ant, part mole, they could also shoot a stream of acid from their mouths that would dissolve damn near anything. They usually only used it for their tunneling, but they could be provoked into using it for defense. And while territorial, their dens weren't all that large. Still, the Federation wanted a look at those acid sacs, and she'd been ordered as escort. Escort! If things didn't start getting better soon… contract or no contract…

Adam interrupted. "I studied the readings, Lady. It's faint… but there just might have been something there."

Shit.

"Okay… so something was stalking us. Any ideas what or why?"

Adam responded negatively. "No. Not without closer readings. I was doing wide scans of the area before, but I'll try focusing on your immediate area when you go out next. I'll let you know the minute I spot something, Lady."

"Thanks, Adam."

She shut the link off, and resumed paying more attention to her surroundings as they closed on the base.

As they closed in on the base, two figures rushed out. One was beautiful, if petite woman with bright blue hair and small glasses perched on her nose. Rather than the standard Federation scientist's uniform, she wore a white lab coat over a pink-red jumpsuit. Her only concessions to standard uniform were the gray-white thigh high combat boots that she was using to slog through the ankle deep water. As always, she carried her data transcriber, about the size, shape and approximate function of an old clipboard. There was a humming device attached to her wrist.

Following her was a short weedy fellow with a dirty blond bowl cut. He was wearing a male-scientists uniform, gray and white all over, sealed with an optional face-covering hood on back to protect from various harmful substances in the air.

Samus walked over to where The blue haired woman was taking notes. "Why exactly did I have to go on that, Delila? It was a waste of time." Samus had learned a healthy amount of respect for Delila in the past few days. She was one of the few who had the guts to tell Tark where to stick it.

"Hmm? Oh, well, you were there in case they ran into those nasty Pirates again. The only other time we've managed to bring a prowler down, and actually get the pieces of it back here, the silly Trooper blew its head off! We'd like to know just why its own acid doesn't affect it. The rest of the poor thing they brought back that time was just as vulnerable as everything else. Of course, a live specimen would be better still, because that icky acid has such a horrible shelf life."

Of course, if you weren't irritating her, she was sickeningly cheerful. Bipolar bordering on schizophrenia.

Samus could only groan internally and hope that idiot Houston would be sent out with the team that tried to corral a live one. Trying to keep it from eating its way out of whatever cage they brought for it would be a horrendous hassle.

She shook her head and wandered into the base before Delila got the bright idea of asking her to go and try.

---

X'll-chak nodded at what the Guardian told him. Their spy had been telling the truth, it seemed. Spies, especially terrans, not to mention terrans willing to sell out their own, were not to be trusted. But still, if that information was accurate, then perhaps what they planned to do with it was also accurate. He resolved to spend a good deal of time talking with his Chief Strategist on the matter, and dismissed the Guardian. It was a strange relationship, being technically in command of one such as he, who technically out ranked him by several levels. Still, if he was ordered to report findings to a Force Leader, then the Force Leader obviously had a small amount of say in those actions. Figuring out how much say was the key.

S'tome-r'nma for his part, was proceeding to his quarters to meditate and commune with Mother. Ordinarily, a Guardian could call out to her at any time, distance only slightly limiting the communication, but he was… special. The things that made him so much better than the others, even those at his rank, made his connection with Mother tenuous, and only reachable by meditation, or proximity. Within a few minutes, his mind steered itself along the road in his mind to where Mother waited.

Greetings S'tome-r'nma. What have you to tell me?

I sighted the Hunter today. Too many others around to confront her openly, but I managed to observe her for a time.

I see… and what else? You would not have sought me out if there was no reason to. You do not like asking for help.

No, Mother, I do not like asking for help, but…

You may tell me anything, youngling. That is why I am Mother.

S'tome-r'nma nodded.

It is… I question the Federation's presence here.

What of it?

They collect local creatures, or their parts, for study.

We do the same. What creatures do they study?

Several… but that is not my point. There are other worlds… Worlds with more valuable creatures to study, or we would study them as well.

You think it a ruse then?

Study of the local creatures makes no sense, especially if the size and composition of the forces here is to be believed. They are here for something else.

Very possible, youngling. Your mind serves you well, unlike my commanders. They see only a threat and do not question. Why do you think they are here?

Possibly for the same reason as we set up Krig. It is remote.

A secret project of the Federation government then.

She said nothing for a long time, long enough that it got uncomfortable.

Mother?

I think… Youngling, it is time for subtlety. A trait many of my forces lack, but you carry in abundance.

He felt a tingling upon his spine then, and a part of his mind opened to him. The knowledge to shed his suit like a skin.

Mother?

You know what an infiltration mission is, correct?

Of course, Mother.

Good. Without your armor, you look quite like a terran. You will use this ability to walk among them. Remember that destroying the Hunter is still your primary task.

Yes, Mother.

You now, however have secondary objectives. One, is to figure out the answer to your questions. What are the Federation doing here? It may be valuable to us. The second, is to kill the Nedrig's commanding officer. Take care not to arouse suspicion with those, however. If it proves impossible, then we can attempt to divine their purpose from their wreckage. I will issue orders to Force Leader X'll-chak within the hour. But this is what you must do…

---

Samus scowled underneath her helmet. Houston had gone on and on to Lt. Raynor about how they were partners, and the girl had responded. They were now on a paired patrol duty, deep in the Torka desert.

She could feel the grin on the blue armored figure's face as he spoke. "Well, I have to admit we haven't seen any signs of the Pirates around here… what do you say we head back?"

She rounded on him. "No sign of Pirates? We've seen plenty of signs of them. The posts have simply been deserted, that's all!"

Houston threw up his hands in defense. "Easy, Samus! I just mean that we haven't seen anything useful out here!"

"I don't think either of you see much of anything if this guy was able to get this close to you without you noticing something."

They both turned to the new threat. Wearing the black garb most natives wore in the desert, a man crouched atop a small hill. A light cloth covered his face to keep the sand out, and goggles were over his eyes. Unarmed except for a small, low powered blaster hung of his sash like belt, and a knife he was holding buried in the sand. He shrugged. "Man you guys are jumpy."

He pulled his knife out of the sand and sheathed it at the waist, letting blood seep to the surface as the light barrier of sand fell away to reveal a massive mouth. The knife had struck into the back of its neck while it was still buried. The man grinned a little, seemingly embarrassed by the slightly impressive skill that would take. "Sand sharks. Stupid, but not bad eating."

He stuck his hand out to them, and Samus cautiously accepted it.

"Ranma Saotome, pleased to meetcha!"