"The 'energy' siphoned by metroids bears little resemblance to conventional
forms of energy, yet it is something essential to all complex forms of
life. To feed, the metroid latches onto its victim and attempts to
penetrate its skin with hook-like fangs. Regardless of whether or not it
succeeds, substance is still extracted and the victim soon falls lifeless,
yet, without sustaining any fatal injury. Our research is attempting to
uncover the source of this element taken from the lifeform. Our discoveries
may result in new branches of technology coming into existence or it may
further our understanding of the universe. Already there are philosophical
debates opening concerning the existence of this element. Joining us today
for an interview is Professor Hanlon of the Morripen University..."
Alright, here's where it gets boring. I turned off the video feed, leaving the sound on so I could get some work done while still listening to the news.
The Federation Broadcast would announce a new discovery about metroids every few hours or so, ever since I delivered Hatchling to Ceres Station. I've been listening to them faithfully, although many of the things they reported I already knew from experience. I would watch the visual feed a lot of the time, enduring images of sweaty old scientists talking monotonously to gain the few snippets of my infant in its relatively roomy glass tank.
Oh man, I didn't know how hard it would be to give up that tiny metroid of mine. I felt like my own arm was being cut off, trusting Hatchling to absolute strangers. But the head scientist was rather empathetic to my situation, and that put me at ease. He promised to return Hatchling uncomplaining if I ever asked and even showed me all his equipment and procedures for my approval.
But still...., I never imagined I could feel so much emotion over such a tiny creature. The universe suddenly seemed a bit smaller without its company; I never knew how lonely I had been without a companion. It's times like these that make me feel so...well, tragically female.
"The evolution of metroids have always been of great interest to scientists. The energy required to go through metamorphosis in any creature is immense, but metroids seem to pull it off easily. And this is not just one evolution they go through, but several. Scientists are baffled by the complexity of their DNA which allows for this type of transformation."
As I listened to the broadcast, I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror, pondering what the new length of my hair should be. I always cut it myself. With the type of life I lead, I never have the opportunity to visit a stylist on a regular basis. And I never understood why I should pay for something I can do myself with a simple slice of a knife. My hair was nearly at my hips; I felt they should reach just below my shoulder blades. I rarely have it any shorter than my neck because then I can't tie it up. And if I can't tie it up, it would get caught when I put on my helmet, bristling like a collar outside my suit. If I enter any hostile enviroments like that, my hair would burn up or get eaten. I took a knife from the kitchen locker and cut off the first handful of golden hair.
"The protoplasmic bodies of metroids contain four nuclei, mostly used for storing energy. At the larvae stage, unlike other stages, the metroid lacks a hardened carapace, extra limbs, and even a head. As a bundle of nerves and nuclei wrapped in transparent flesh, the metroid is not much more than an energy-eating machine driven by instinct. As it evolves, it eventually gains a brain and may even grow smarter through subsequent evolutions. Its brain to body ratio increases with each metamorphosis."
I shook my head. What would they know about the intelligence of metroids? I don't know about them getting smarter as they evolve, but I know for a fact that my Hatchling is smart enough to learn from experience. It can recognize things as more than just food and not-food. For example, it recognizes me as its mom. It knows comfort and sorrow. It's even bright enough to understand the injury of others, such as the time it healed me when my leg was broken.
I was currently orbiting the airspace around a Federation outpost, waiting for clearance to leave. A fat wad of cash sat comfortably in my credit line, which I just collected from the outpost. That would be my bounty for ridding SR388 of metroids and delivering Hatchling to Ceres labs. I wondered what I should do with the money. I usually spent huge sums of it exploring the fringes of the known universe, checking out previously unknown galaxies and visiting planets rarely visited. They say that the known universe expanded 2% thanks to my efforts. But I wasn't looking for a place in the history books, I was merely looking for the Chozo. They have to exist somewhere, they have to. I refuse to believe they are completely extinct.
Anyways, this time I had other thoughts about where my hard-earned cash should go. Maybe I should beef up my ship, add a bathtub or something; I certainly felt deserving of one. I also want to add another room, one which I'll fill up with lightweight rocks and heat radiators. It'll look something like SR388, and hopefully Hatchling will be comfortable in it. That's right, I've decided at this point to keep Hatchling permanently. It wouldn't be long before the Federation figures out how to clone metroids. Once they have their own metroid to play with, I can retrieve my infant.
"Metroids have been known to reproduce asexually when exposed to beta rays, yet this is clearly not how they propagate. SR388's sun does not emit beta rays, nor are they found in any significant quantity on the planet's surface. Metroids naturally live based on a social structure revolving around a single reproductive Queen. Of course, the term 'Queen' is merely subjective; metroids do not have genders. It is speculated that when an old Queen dies, the metroids of the highest rank battle for leadership and the winner eventually evolves into the new Queen."
Ouch. If Hatchling is the only metroid around, then will it evolve into a Queen? I'll have to buy a whole new ship if that happens. Plus, I'll end up with hundreds of baby metroids on my hands. What am I going to do with all those little gobs of jelly flying around? Oh, what the heck, I'll figure it out when the time comes. I shook off the last strands of hair clinging to my body and turned on the video feed again.
"The last metroid is in captivity. The galaxy is at peace. This rare specimen was brought in last cycle by Samus Aran, bounty hunter, who was also responsible for exterminating SR388 of metroids. The larvae, which she has code-named 'Hatchling', was able to be captured without mishap by Aran as she came across its hatching process."
I saw a brief clip of myself shaking hands with the head scientist, with the tube containing Hatchling tucked under his arm. The feed was very clear, and it zoomed in on the metroid scratching at the glass container, wondering how to get at the tasty scientist on the other side. There was an image of me walking away. Hatchling pressed itself against the tube in my direction, trying to follow me. The scientist carried it off in another direction.
"Research is being conducted at a furious pace. There are so many potential benefits and mysteries about metroids that still eludes our scientists. Having only one specimen to study from limits our speed, therefore, our first priority is to research the cloning of metroids, as the Space Pirates have already perfected. However, legions of protesters are rallying against this decision, claiming that the production of more metroids will cause more harm than gain. The latest metroid outbreak would have ruined the galaxy if the Space Pirates had been allowed to carry through with their plans. The protesters even want to dispose of this single metroid for fear that it might fall into the wrong hands. Federation Officers would like to assure the civilian population that Ceres Laboratories maintains some of the most modern and effective security measures that would fend off even the most determined of terrorists."
I stared intently at the video feed. Behind the reporter blabbing about politics in the foreground, I saw Hatchling floating listlessly in its glass tube. It inhabited the lower half of its container, as if it didn't have the energy to hover any higher. Why was that? Surely the scientists feed it well enough. My metroid finally settled on the bottom of the tube and whimpered one long, high-pitched note. The sound shook me to the bone. It was the same sound Hatchling made when I nearly abandoned it on SR388, leaving it trapped behind ice. It was lonely. It was scared.
I couldn't bear to watch the video feed anymore. I turned it off, sound and all, and put my head in my hands. Ah, I'm a horrible mother. Hatchling must be devastated, thinking that I abandoned it to those scientists doing all sorts of crazy experiments on it. I suddenly decided that I should go back to Ceres. Then at least I can keep Hatchling company for the remainder of the time it was being researched. Heck, why didn't I think of this earlier?
Of course, I couldn't leave just yet; I was still waiting for clearance from the Federation. My nails clicked impatiently on an armrest. I wandered around my ship, tidied things up, replaced a loose bolt, and played a round of solitaire on the computer. An hour passed. And I still hadn't gained clearance. Dammit, how long does it take for a simple leave request to be processed? For a lack of anything better to do, I turned on the Federation Broadcast again. Curiously, there wasn't any news on metroids at the moment, so I changed the frequency. Hmm, nothing on the next station I tried either. I occupied myself by checking the bounty listings, seeing if there was anything worth my while.
There was a slight beeping and I saw a blue icon flash on the ship's main monitor. That would finally be my clearance to leave. I eagerly propelled myself from orbit and headed for Ceres, which was only two hours away. I couldn't wait to see Hatchling again.
The speck of the laboratory grew ever larger in the black void as I neared. It looked something like a moon-sized metal doughnut with the docking bay in the hollow center. Ceres was shaped this way because it was one of the oldest space stations around, built back when rotational motion was the only way to achieve artificial gravity. Of course, it doesn't rotate anymore; that takes too much energy. It's now been fitted with more modern devices such as gravitational adjusters and pressurization units in every room.
Anyways, I planned to hail Ceres station as soon as I could to prepare them for my arrival. But the moment I entered their communication space, I received a localized distress call, so weak that it barely showed up on my sensors. That's odd; there were no ships blinking on my radar. If it was anything larger than a small spacecraft, then the distress signal would be heard over a much wider range. Maybe the ship was cloaked. Or maybe the signal was from a handheld beacon that could be carried anywhere, not necessarily on a ship.
I traced the signal.
And I caught my breath.
When I realized that the signal came from Ceres.
Alright, here's where it gets boring. I turned off the video feed, leaving the sound on so I could get some work done while still listening to the news.
The Federation Broadcast would announce a new discovery about metroids every few hours or so, ever since I delivered Hatchling to Ceres Station. I've been listening to them faithfully, although many of the things they reported I already knew from experience. I would watch the visual feed a lot of the time, enduring images of sweaty old scientists talking monotonously to gain the few snippets of my infant in its relatively roomy glass tank.
Oh man, I didn't know how hard it would be to give up that tiny metroid of mine. I felt like my own arm was being cut off, trusting Hatchling to absolute strangers. But the head scientist was rather empathetic to my situation, and that put me at ease. He promised to return Hatchling uncomplaining if I ever asked and even showed me all his equipment and procedures for my approval.
But still...., I never imagined I could feel so much emotion over such a tiny creature. The universe suddenly seemed a bit smaller without its company; I never knew how lonely I had been without a companion. It's times like these that make me feel so...well, tragically female.
"The evolution of metroids have always been of great interest to scientists. The energy required to go through metamorphosis in any creature is immense, but metroids seem to pull it off easily. And this is not just one evolution they go through, but several. Scientists are baffled by the complexity of their DNA which allows for this type of transformation."
As I listened to the broadcast, I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror, pondering what the new length of my hair should be. I always cut it myself. With the type of life I lead, I never have the opportunity to visit a stylist on a regular basis. And I never understood why I should pay for something I can do myself with a simple slice of a knife. My hair was nearly at my hips; I felt they should reach just below my shoulder blades. I rarely have it any shorter than my neck because then I can't tie it up. And if I can't tie it up, it would get caught when I put on my helmet, bristling like a collar outside my suit. If I enter any hostile enviroments like that, my hair would burn up or get eaten. I took a knife from the kitchen locker and cut off the first handful of golden hair.
"The protoplasmic bodies of metroids contain four nuclei, mostly used for storing energy. At the larvae stage, unlike other stages, the metroid lacks a hardened carapace, extra limbs, and even a head. As a bundle of nerves and nuclei wrapped in transparent flesh, the metroid is not much more than an energy-eating machine driven by instinct. As it evolves, it eventually gains a brain and may even grow smarter through subsequent evolutions. Its brain to body ratio increases with each metamorphosis."
I shook my head. What would they know about the intelligence of metroids? I don't know about them getting smarter as they evolve, but I know for a fact that my Hatchling is smart enough to learn from experience. It can recognize things as more than just food and not-food. For example, it recognizes me as its mom. It knows comfort and sorrow. It's even bright enough to understand the injury of others, such as the time it healed me when my leg was broken.
I was currently orbiting the airspace around a Federation outpost, waiting for clearance to leave. A fat wad of cash sat comfortably in my credit line, which I just collected from the outpost. That would be my bounty for ridding SR388 of metroids and delivering Hatchling to Ceres labs. I wondered what I should do with the money. I usually spent huge sums of it exploring the fringes of the known universe, checking out previously unknown galaxies and visiting planets rarely visited. They say that the known universe expanded 2% thanks to my efforts. But I wasn't looking for a place in the history books, I was merely looking for the Chozo. They have to exist somewhere, they have to. I refuse to believe they are completely extinct.
Anyways, this time I had other thoughts about where my hard-earned cash should go. Maybe I should beef up my ship, add a bathtub or something; I certainly felt deserving of one. I also want to add another room, one which I'll fill up with lightweight rocks and heat radiators. It'll look something like SR388, and hopefully Hatchling will be comfortable in it. That's right, I've decided at this point to keep Hatchling permanently. It wouldn't be long before the Federation figures out how to clone metroids. Once they have their own metroid to play with, I can retrieve my infant.
"Metroids have been known to reproduce asexually when exposed to beta rays, yet this is clearly not how they propagate. SR388's sun does not emit beta rays, nor are they found in any significant quantity on the planet's surface. Metroids naturally live based on a social structure revolving around a single reproductive Queen. Of course, the term 'Queen' is merely subjective; metroids do not have genders. It is speculated that when an old Queen dies, the metroids of the highest rank battle for leadership and the winner eventually evolves into the new Queen."
Ouch. If Hatchling is the only metroid around, then will it evolve into a Queen? I'll have to buy a whole new ship if that happens. Plus, I'll end up with hundreds of baby metroids on my hands. What am I going to do with all those little gobs of jelly flying around? Oh, what the heck, I'll figure it out when the time comes. I shook off the last strands of hair clinging to my body and turned on the video feed again.
"The last metroid is in captivity. The galaxy is at peace. This rare specimen was brought in last cycle by Samus Aran, bounty hunter, who was also responsible for exterminating SR388 of metroids. The larvae, which she has code-named 'Hatchling', was able to be captured without mishap by Aran as she came across its hatching process."
I saw a brief clip of myself shaking hands with the head scientist, with the tube containing Hatchling tucked under his arm. The feed was very clear, and it zoomed in on the metroid scratching at the glass container, wondering how to get at the tasty scientist on the other side. There was an image of me walking away. Hatchling pressed itself against the tube in my direction, trying to follow me. The scientist carried it off in another direction.
"Research is being conducted at a furious pace. There are so many potential benefits and mysteries about metroids that still eludes our scientists. Having only one specimen to study from limits our speed, therefore, our first priority is to research the cloning of metroids, as the Space Pirates have already perfected. However, legions of protesters are rallying against this decision, claiming that the production of more metroids will cause more harm than gain. The latest metroid outbreak would have ruined the galaxy if the Space Pirates had been allowed to carry through with their plans. The protesters even want to dispose of this single metroid for fear that it might fall into the wrong hands. Federation Officers would like to assure the civilian population that Ceres Laboratories maintains some of the most modern and effective security measures that would fend off even the most determined of terrorists."
I stared intently at the video feed. Behind the reporter blabbing about politics in the foreground, I saw Hatchling floating listlessly in its glass tube. It inhabited the lower half of its container, as if it didn't have the energy to hover any higher. Why was that? Surely the scientists feed it well enough. My metroid finally settled on the bottom of the tube and whimpered one long, high-pitched note. The sound shook me to the bone. It was the same sound Hatchling made when I nearly abandoned it on SR388, leaving it trapped behind ice. It was lonely. It was scared.
I couldn't bear to watch the video feed anymore. I turned it off, sound and all, and put my head in my hands. Ah, I'm a horrible mother. Hatchling must be devastated, thinking that I abandoned it to those scientists doing all sorts of crazy experiments on it. I suddenly decided that I should go back to Ceres. Then at least I can keep Hatchling company for the remainder of the time it was being researched. Heck, why didn't I think of this earlier?
Of course, I couldn't leave just yet; I was still waiting for clearance from the Federation. My nails clicked impatiently on an armrest. I wandered around my ship, tidied things up, replaced a loose bolt, and played a round of solitaire on the computer. An hour passed. And I still hadn't gained clearance. Dammit, how long does it take for a simple leave request to be processed? For a lack of anything better to do, I turned on the Federation Broadcast again. Curiously, there wasn't any news on metroids at the moment, so I changed the frequency. Hmm, nothing on the next station I tried either. I occupied myself by checking the bounty listings, seeing if there was anything worth my while.
There was a slight beeping and I saw a blue icon flash on the ship's main monitor. That would finally be my clearance to leave. I eagerly propelled myself from orbit and headed for Ceres, which was only two hours away. I couldn't wait to see Hatchling again.
The speck of the laboratory grew ever larger in the black void as I neared. It looked something like a moon-sized metal doughnut with the docking bay in the hollow center. Ceres was shaped this way because it was one of the oldest space stations around, built back when rotational motion was the only way to achieve artificial gravity. Of course, it doesn't rotate anymore; that takes too much energy. It's now been fitted with more modern devices such as gravitational adjusters and pressurization units in every room.
Anyways, I planned to hail Ceres station as soon as I could to prepare them for my arrival. But the moment I entered their communication space, I received a localized distress call, so weak that it barely showed up on my sensors. That's odd; there were no ships blinking on my radar. If it was anything larger than a small spacecraft, then the distress signal would be heard over a much wider range. Maybe the ship was cloaked. Or maybe the signal was from a handheld beacon that could be carried anywhere, not necessarily on a ship.
I traced the signal.
And I caught my breath.
When I realized that the signal came from Ceres.