It is traditional for the hero, upon waking from unconsciousness, to be seated amidst comfortable pillows and looking up at a hopeful, loving character that he or she will end up getting together with by the climax of the plot. Samus was of the opinion that Fate had shorted her in this department too many times and spent some valuable energy cursing when she discovered that the sun was not going to shine through hospital curtains anytime soon. It didn't make her feel better at all.

With much effort, she managed to lift her head and gaze around, although this didn't do much good, since her entire visor was filled with warning prompts that jostled and blinked, demanding her attention. A moment's labor resulted in a sudden gush of scorched air that was wretched to the taste, but Samus breathed deep of it. Anything was better than that bitter smell of blood.

She took a tally, dropping her helmet to the floor. Eyes, burning. Ears: Left, bleeding, ringing: Right, bleeding, no hearing. Skin: broken, torn, and burnt. Nose: Swollen, bleeding, and broken. Taste: bitter, salty. Head: spinning, bleeding, possibly detached and floating away.

As various reports continued to come in, she became aware of banging somewhere on the hole. The view port featured large amounts of broken plasteel, smoked to the point of being opaque. Just on the left edge though, were definite signs of blue sky, edged with red. A shadow blocked out the light of the sky for a second. It turned out to be a head, the face blocked by a pilot's respirator and visor

"…right, okay? …just fine…" the faceless man called.

In the distance, the banging stopped. Their genesis had been stopped by the heavily armored hull, and proton drills did too little, too slow.

"…the charges!" a voice screamed. "Detonate…my mark…five………three……"

A boom, muffled to Samus by her ruptured ears, rocked the ship, which Samus was barely aware of.

The light made an entrance, but slowly. The door was stuck and a faint weeeeee of a proton drill indicated the rescuer's attempts to get inside.

"Hold on! We'll…there!" the same voice shouted. "That's enough…aside…"

The door fractured at the cut points and a piece skidded to a halt beside Samus's armored foot. She looked at it, dreamily.

The faceless man appeared in front of her. Despite his now being right in front of her, his voice sounded as far away as it had when he was outside.

"Get you…of here!" Samus made out as the faceless man cut her free of the tangled safety straps. He buckled under the weight of her power suit and swore. The masked face turned up to someone behind her and said something. In her detached way, she felt her limbs being picked up by strong hands.

It did the trick. Four men were able to drag Samus out of the pilot's seat as three more cut a path through the twisted, melted metal to the door and through the gaping hole in the hull itself.

Halfway out, Samus heard the whistling in her ears lessen and, just like that, she snapped out of it.

The horror, lost to her before only partially functioning consciousness, soon became apparent. Whatever the exploding engine hadn't destroyed, the breaching charges had finished off, and she looked up into the visor of the pilot.

"…awake!" he was saying. "Wake up! Speak to me!"

Samus wasn't sure exactly why she decided to say it, but she couldn't think of anything else.

"Hello," she murmured.

The visored head cocked to the side for a moment.

"Hello," he replied. "We're going to get you all patched up. Your ship is scrap."

"Not my ship," she croaked.

"So much for the deposit then," the man replied. He shouted to the other men, who were all generic rescue workers, "Get some water!"

"Not thirsty," Samus whined as someone gently let her head to the ground. She took great breaths of the fresh air. The masked man was trying to pry open the Power Suit with a crowbar.

The suit was losing. It had been designed to stand up to shock, but there is little in the universe that can stand against a man with a crowbar coupled with the intelligence to use one properly. As he got the rhythm, the suit became so damaged that the emergency safeties kicked in. Their purpose was to let the occupant quickly shed the Suit upon major malfunction. Seams released and in some places leaked blood. The man threw the crowbar away and he finished the job with his hands.

By the time the ambulance floated to a halt a short distance away, there was one fully peeled bounty hunter waiting for it. Blue-clad men with serious looks on their faces swarmed out and over Samus. She was put into a stretcher. She faintly felt needles pierce her skin. Powerful anesthetics surged through her, and she began to feel drowsy. The last thing that Samus Aran saw before the darkness closed again was the slamming of the ambulance door on the faceless man.