Chapter 2
"Pray you have good news, lieutenant," said the general.
"The best, sir."
"Speak the good news, lieutenant."
"I have her in my sights, sir. The mission will be over in minutes."
On the other end of the visual channel, a crimson flash glinted off the lieutenant's blue visor, confirming the good news.
"Very well, lieutenant. But take precaution. She would not be such a threat if she wasn't a dangerous target. Remember, however, that I want her nothing less than terminated. Knowing the prime minister's...tendencies, if she is not dead within the hour, somebody, will be, and I assure you it will not be me."
"Understood, sir."
"Good fortune to you, lieutenant."
"For the Republic, sir."
"For the Republic."
--
Samus didn't have time to question, only to think fast and stay alive. As her fingers shot wildly around the interface, the thought occurred to her that she indeed had never removed her power suit. It was met at first with residual fear from her nightmare, but that, with a little help from the adrenaline electrifying her body, was promptly shoved aside out of necessity.
The three Federation interceptors swooped continually around Hunter Seven, maintaining a tight delta formation and unleashing a fusillade of energy bolts on every pass. Meanwhile, the Space Pirate interceptor battered her shields from behind, always keeping almost ridiculously close on her tail. She returned fire to all ships, but with little avail.
She rerouted the power from her weapons to her shields. What she needed was time to think, not firepower. She could initiate warp, but they would follow her, and the battle would resume in a hyperspace corridor that was much less maneuverable than normal space, and, with the nearest Federation colony—if she could trust the Federation—was several light years away, she would be vaporized long before she could get help.
"Shield output failing," said the computer. Hundreds of kilometers ahead, the three Federation interceptors swopped down to embark on a frontal assault—a direct collision course. But if her shields failed, the only collision would be with the harmless remains of her ship.
She watched them as they grew closer, first appearing as three glittering dots against a backdrop of stars. Then there came the shapes, then the colors. In a less than a minute, she knew, they would unleash a torrent that her sputtering shields would not be able to withstand.
"Dammit!" she yelled. She opened a channel to the lead Federation vessel. An unparticular, helmeted face appeared on her screen. The pilot's eyes were completely concealed beneath a solid blue visor.
"Why are you attacking me?" she spat.
"You are an enemy of Republic," he said flatly.
"What Republic? The Federation? I have been doing its dirty work for years!"
"The Federation as you know it is no more. The Republic has no need for your operations; the days of needless violence are over," he said with an oddly informative tone.
"Then what do you call this? Let me talk to your superiors! You're making a mistake, buddy!"
"I'm sorry, mam', but my orders are to destroy you and your ship."
"Are you kidding me?" she roared, laughing insanely at the man's absurd display of politeness. He terminated the link.
Samus bit her lip. For the first time ever, she was panicking in the heat of battle.
--
Unaii watched as his guns tore up the shields of Samus' ship. Finally, he thought, this menace of his people would be eradicated. Over the last six years of his life, the only stories he had heard were the ones revolving around her, the thorn embedded deep in the side of his species. Now, there would be retribution.
The shields of Hunter Seven flickered once more. Then, they died completely. He did not let up on his attack. No, he could not toy with her, could not make her suffer as she deserved. As a precautionary measure, her death would be swift and efficient.
Two missiles would do it; otherwise, his energy bolts would be melting away at her hull for hours. He locked on his targeting system to her superluminal engines; the concussive blast would rupture the core, thermo-plasma would disintegrate the ship, and he would leave behind only a bit of space dust where a hunter and her ship had once flown. His slender fingers hovered over the firing buttons. He paused suddenly to breathe in his satisfaction at this moment, a moment he had been envisioning ever since Samus had stolen away his only chance for solace in his life.
Yes, he could see her, even now. Though it was merely his imagination, he was as certain of it as if he was seeing it in his own eyes: a sudden, shallow, feminine gasp as Samus realized that her shields had failed; two beady eyes, small as a human's, looking desperately to the surroundings for any means of escape, only to find doom looking back; a sudden rush of panic coursing through her mind as she became aware of her fate; and then, finally, a curse—a curse to the whole Space Pirate race, a last action of contempt before being vaporized. Yes, she would be indignant, would be scornful, would be nefarious until the very last nanosecond of her life.
His eyes narrowed. The personal glory that he would achieve in this very moment would compensate for anything that Samus had taken from him. An impetuous, electrifying charge of fury and confidence bolted through is body.
He fired.