Chapter 1

My name is Samus Aran, Federation Alliance service identification 3-214-000512. If any receive this distress call: my ship has been damaged and I've crashed somewhere in the Zion system. My ship is too badly damaged to fly, but I will try to keep this channel functioning, so my location may be traced. Please, if anyone receives this, help me.

Samus Aran; bounty hunter, assassin, adventurer, leaned back in her control chair. Her helmet rested on the counter to her side, so long blond hair rested on her shoulders. She cupped two hands behind the back of her head and sighed. "Computer," she said.

"Yes, Ms. Aran?" asked a mechanical voice.

"How much fuel do we have?"

"I am afraid that all fuel supplies are empty, Ms. Aran. There is a large leak in the tank. All engines are dead as well."

"And the weapons?"

"Spent, Ms. Aran. You were quit thorough with that enemy ship."

"How long can you keep the distress signal up?"
"Two weeks at the most, Ms. Aran. That is how long my batteries will last."

Samus leaned further back and sighed again. She didn't know what she could do if the distress signal died before she was rescued from this hunk of dirt. "Damn pirates," she muttered hatefully. "At least I shot that son of a bitch down." She sat up in her chair, eye wide with revelation. "Computer?" she asked. "Is the air breathable?"

"My sensors indicate the air is thick, but stable, Ms. Aran. Your suit should sustain you if necessary."

Samus put on her helmet and opened the hatch door. Killing what ever pirates survived the crash was just what she needed to blow of some steam.

A distance away

Ridley pushed his way out of the smoldering wreckage of what was left of his ship, wobbly standing on his hind claws. His head was spinning, his muscles hurt, and he didn't know where in the hell he was. The dragon's first thought was to fly, but as he stretched his wings, a sharp pain soared into his back. Carefully, he moved his charred appendages into his line of view and realized the flesh and most of the bone had been incinerated in the flames. "Fuck," he growled. "Psycho bitch shooting me down unprovoked. I'm the evil one." He growled again, recalling the battle. There he was, hiding from the Federation Alliance's forces and the dozens of bounty hunters who wanted his head, when this bitch comes out of no where, unloading missiles into his ship. Before he even knew what had happened, his cruiser was badly damaged and the bitch just kept firing. In retaliation he fired as well, and did a good amount of damage to the enemy. But soon enough his ship's computers went black and fire engulfed the cockpit.

He examined his wounds again, carefully moving his wings as too avoid that sharp pain. The thin flesh between bones was all but gone, leaving nerve endings open. This caused agony from even the slightest touch of the wind. He longed to dress these wounds, but looking back at the flames that had spread over his ship, he knew he could never reach his medical supplies. Ridley sighed. He'd have to live with the pain for now.

The dragon looked out over the barren land to his left and dense forest to his right. No sign of threats, nor of civilization. He turned back to his ship, just as the flames hit the fuel tank and an explosion engulfed the remaining metal. That's when he realized, for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to do. He settled down onto his haunches, his long tail lying on the dirt beside him. "That bitch Aran," he snarled to himself. "She killed them all. Every fucking one of them."

Ridley had been so close to succeeding, to ruling this pitiful galaxy. Given his physical appearance, few ever believed he was capable of thought, and this suited him quite well. He never fooled himself into believing he wasn't expendable to the Mother Brain, but he was fairly sure he was valuable. And so long as he remained helpful, she would have no reason to replace him. For a time, he even pondered murdering the Brain and taking control over the Space Pirates. But then Samus came along. That bitch murdered all of the brain's cohorts and minions, and came all too close to killing Ridley himself. In truth he wasn't sure how he'd survived, when he awoke on his home world of Zebes there where holes in his chest and a blaring mechanical voice that screamed self-destruct was imminent. He dragged himself to an escape pod and put himself on life support before succumbing to sleep.

He didn't know how long he'd drifted through the cold recesses of space. When he finally woke up, he flew his pod to the nearest planet and hungrily devoured any information he could find. It was in a major city he discovered it. The Galactic Federation thought he was dead! He laughed. Signs were everywhere: Dreaded Leader of the Infamous Space Pirates Killed! Galaxy at Ease! Brain's Lieutenants all Dead! His mind spun with possibilities as to what to do now: in secret he could reorganize the pirates and once more set his plan into motion. All he had to do was stay hidden. Hastily, he hijacked a ship and flew into space, merely drifting amongst the stars: working out a new plan, when that bitch shot him down.

Ridley sighed heavily, folding damaged wings behind his back. He was unarmed, wounded, stranded, and hungry. He decided to fix one of those problems.