During one of the seasonal electric storms that wandered over the planet's surface, the Sheltering Tree was engulfed in what seemed like a perpetual night. The already misty atmosphere was choked in clouds so low and thick that no element of space could penetrate the coal-black barrier. Wreaths of glowvines and other light sources illuminated populated areas, making Trees and temples shine like beacons over a dark, tumultuous ocean. The weather halted the wind, resulting in a silence which was almost painful to those who were used to the constant howling.
And yet, often when least expected, the silence and darkness were broken by sudden explosions of sound and light. This was not like the thunder of other worlds, in which bolts drew themselves from the heavens down to the earth. The thunder of this planet was made of condensed electricity, orbs of brilliance which sometimes detonated high in the sky, and sometimes only meters from the treetops. The humid air crackled with charged ions. The sky was a sparkling black and neon lightshow.
There weren't many people watching it, however. The Dachoras were sleeping out the storm in their nest of twigs and feathers of their own and of Chozo origin. Family groups of Chozo huddled together as they slept, keeping each other warm with their body heat and feathers. Those who ventured outside deliberately flared their feathers into fluffy balls of down for protection against the damp and the electricity. The Etecoons, however, were perched on the highest branch of the Sheltering Tree, watching fascinated, their fur standing on end, as the blackened skies and treetops beneath them suddenly lit up with the flash of a thunderball.
Samus Aran did not enjoy the weather. Being mostly human and lacking any exterior protection, she suffered particularly from the storm. Every electric discharge felt like a shock to her skin, even when a thunderball originated as far as a mile away. Her hair refused to obey her until she knotted it into a tight bun, and still individual strands stuck out whenever they found the opportunity. She became vaguely jealous of the Chozo, who were all dry and comfortable in their natural coat of insulating feathers. They were probably all sleeping soundly through this storm, whereas the bounty huntress found it nearly impossible to do so. Tossing and turning, she tried to seek refuge in her feathered cloak, but it wasn't big enough to cover her whole body. Her bare feet were left unprotected, and they nearly kicked a hole in the wall when they were jolted into sudden movement. With a grunt of frustration, Samus eventually retreated to her power suit and sealed herself inside, away from the current environment. But her tendency of sleeping lightly, a habit which had saved her on several occasions, woke her with the sound of every electric explosion.
God, it was going to be a long night. Finally, deafness borne of exhaustion allowed her to ignore the storm to some extent. Her eyes were just beginning to droop when she heard another crash, this time very close, but very soft. She was about to ignore it when her mind registered the fact that the sound was of a different quality. She roused enough to see a fragment of eggshell fall to the floor, and was instantly awake. The metroid egg shook precariously on the platform it was placed on, threatening to fall at any moment. With one quick motion, Samus desperately lunged, landing with an "oof!" on her stomach, watching wide-eyed as the egg tumbled off the shelf... right into her outstretched hand.
The woman paused for a moment, breathed in deeply, and sighed out long and slow. She shakily rose to her feet. "Shit that was close." She said with teeth clenched and eyes slitted. Way too close. It didn't speak well of her parenting skills if she's to let her child fall off shelves like that. But then again, metroids are durable critters; it'd take more than a little fall to hurt them.
Without really paying any attention to where she sat, Samus flopped onto her bed, her gaze never leaving the precious bundle as it trembled in her hands. She absently shed the beam cannon from her right arm and took off her helmet, letting them drop to the floor. She was fascinated by the metroid's thirst for life, its hunger for freedom. An errant smile formed over her features. How strong the little child was, fighting for the very right to exist. Samus mused about how in humans, it was the mother who endured the agony of childbirth, but metroids were destined to emerge into the world by themselves. This mother couldn't do anything to help it. The Chozo forbid her from tearing apart the shell herself, although her fingers itched to do so and spare her child the painful effort.
The egg was no longer transparent, but it had slowly turned greenish opaque as the days to hatching drew nearer. The metroid squirmed furiously. A thick, inner membrane still held most of the shell together, forcing its occupant to chew through the egg skin with its weak, tiny fangs. Areas free of shell glowed brilliant green and purple, shockingly bright in the smothering darkness around it. Egg fluid oozed from the cracks, and for some odd reason, Samus experienced the weirdest urge to lick it off. She shook her head and chuckled. That must be a rogue metroid instinct which the Chozo forgot to 'deactivate' while she was in the biosac. But it made sense; she could imagine older metroids welcoming and encouraging a hatching child by licking it clean. As an alternative, the bounty hunter put the metroid into a ceramic bowl and filled it with warm water. Gently with her fingers, she washed the emerging lifeform free of fluid.
A single quivering fang forced its way out and clawed at the egg's exterior. The fractures in the shell widened and eventually, all four mandibles were free, but they stretched out limply as if exhausted. Suddenly, the metroid cried out, one long, clear note which rang into the silent night. Samus's heart skipped a beat. She listened as it cried again, voicing its fears, its pain and its longings. How long had it been since she last heard that sound? Years ago, she remembered, soon after she had killed the Metroid Queen, she heard Hatchling's first cry echoing in those lifeless caverns. She had answered that call with her presence, and from then on, Hatchling had a mother.
"Calm yourself, little one. I'm here for you." Her voice cracked once and she swallowed quickly. She gently splashed some water onto the metroid's dome body, gingerly washing away the last bits of shell and fluid.
The metroid rested for a few moments, then floated upwards with water dripping off its delicately sculpted fangs. Its lime-hued glow cast flickering shadows everywhere in the darkened little house. It started flying around in lazy circles, and for a moment, Samus was afraid that the metroid had not imprinted upon her. Her fears were soon alleviated for, in the next moment, her child zipped towards her and latched onto her right shoulder blade, squeaking happily all the while.
The metroid was so small. Samus's comparatively large, gloved hand covered it easily, blocking out its pulsing glow and muffling its near-continuous squeeing. She simply held it for a while, letting touch confirm that her baby truly existed and wasn't part of some dream. A sigh of contentment passed her lips and she closed her eyes, wanting to savor this moment forever. But the metroid, being such an energetic creature, couldn't sit still any longer and struggled out from underneath Samus's hand.
"Squee, squee!" The metroid began haphazardly orbiting its mother's head, still emitting its mewling squeaks. Samus smiled, and then laughed softly. She suddenly snatched the child out of midair, twirled once on one foot, and flopped back-first onto her bed. The infant shrieked indignantly at the rough treatment, only making the bounty hunter laugh harder. She released the metroid and tucked her hands behind her head, watching the baby draw circles in the dark with its lively glow.
Samus let a grin play over her features and she thought herself content. But a twinge of pain, previously undetected, gradually made itself known in her heart. Her eyes flickered closed as she exhaled slowly. How could she be happy, how dare she. How dare she enjoy this moment, letting this new child replace the memory of her old one, of Hatchling. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair to desecrate the memory, to replace it, to warp it into... into something that wouldn't tear at her insides. Something which needn't be buried anymore, something which she might actually enjoy, as she now enjoyed watching her offspring as it danced above her, blithely ignorant of everything except its own joy in existence.
She had thought that the painful memories would subside somewhat with her new child, but it only flared up fiercer than ever, consuming, berating her, blaming her. She sullenly realized that it would be impossible for her to completely forget her failure with Hatchling. It would exist forever within her as a reminder, and a part of her was glad for it. She allowed the guilt to invade her body, let it ravage inside her until her eyes moistened and she found it hard to swallow. If she wouldn't forget, then she wouldn't make the same mistake again. She could not afford to lose any more of her children.
A thunderball suddenly erupted, loud enough to induce deafness, creating instant shadows which disappeared in the next instant. Samus flinched involuntarily and blinked out the spots in her eyes. She belatedly wished she had kept her helmet on for her cheek muscles twitched painfully from the intensity of the shock. But the metroid was so startled that it lunged for its mother, and struck her directly on the lips, clinging to her as if its life depended on it.
"Mmmph!" Samus put a hand to her mouth and felt only metroid.
"Yiii...!" The infant, frightened by the sound and/or electric shock, refused to let go. Samus could only manage to shove it under her chin, leaving red scratch marks along the sides of her jaw. But with the metroid wrapped around her neck, at least her breathing could still function normally.
The feather robe was near at hand and was soon used to protect her exposed head and metroid. Her world was reduced to all she could see beneath the robe, all of it illuminated by a metroid's eerie light. She felt the baby still shivering at her jugular, its squeaking so quiet that it was barely audible. She frowned slightly.
"That's just a natural phenomenon." She said, as if attempting to dispel her child's fears with logic. "There's no reason to be afraid. No one has ever been seriously injured by the thunder of this planet. Especially not metroids." The infant stopped moving for a moment. Then it relaxed its grip somewhat and squeaked at an odd note, as if surprised. "Once you grow older, you'll find that nothing can hurt you. Only one thing has ever managed to hurt metroids." Samus smiled, softly and sadly. "But I promise you that she'll never hurt you. I promise you that you'll never need to fear anything."
The infant squealed again and drummed its mandibles against human skin, much like how restless fingers would drum against a table. Samus laughed, making her new charge squeak even more, and realized that it was the vibration of her voice that pleased it so much.
"You like feeling me talk?" A squeak of confirmation answered her. "What should I say? I'm not the most talkative of people..." Well, words were not necessary for the metroid who didn't understand them. After a moment of consideration, she took a slow breath, tilted her head back, and started humming. The infant fell attentively silent to hear her.
The song was an old Chozo melody which she had long forgotten the lyrics to, but the tune was one which she would never be lost to her. Old Bird, with his surprisingly clear warbling voice, had once used it to lullaby her to sleep. The song existed on the edge of her consciousness, a whisper, a memory so faint that it disappeared every time she tried to grasp it.
As one song ended, another began, another which she could not remember. Pretty soon, one melody merged into the next with no end and no beginning, and the huntress wasn't sure if she really learned those songs or was making them up on the spot. The watery light inside the cloak dimmed as the metroid became more inactive. Samus's music grew slower and sleepier, the notes losing their tune as her concentration wavered. She heard a rumble of thunder in the far distance and felt vaguely relieved that the storm was moving on.
When she woke, the storm was indeed gone, for natural light poured into her house, causing her to blink. She could see it because the feathered cloak had been loosely flung away from her face. She sat up abruptly. Where's her metroid?!...
She heard something land in front of her house, turned towards it, and saw the metroid shriek its bloodcurdling cry as it lunged forward at the intruder. Samus barely had time to shout a warning before the metroid hit its target. Veaning recoiled from the impact, muttered something akin to, "Not again." and crumpled to the floor with the parasite at her neck.
"Shit! Veaning!" Samus was up and beside the Chozo instantly, trying to pry the metroid off her friend. She attempted to wedge her hand between them, trying to pull one off the other and only succeeding in having protoplasmic flesh ooze between her fingers.
Veaning's eyes were still open and she attempted to smile. "Let the child be." She said weakly. "Chozo can not be killed by Warriors..."
Samus's lips tightened to a thin line as she registered the words, but reluctantly backed off. Veaning was on the floor, seemingly unconscious, and the metroid was still sucking at her energy but with little success. It screeched in frustration at being unable to feed, its mandibles twisting and clenching for a better hold on its victim. And then, the larvae abruptly surrendered with a whimper, falling onto its back with its fangs curled up like a stunned beetle. Samus picked it up with both hands, carefully, but with her fingers caged around it to prevent escape.
Veaning rose to her feet and gingerly rubbed the wound the metroid inflicted, which wasn't far from where Samus bit her a few weeks ago. The bounty hunter stared at the injury with a thoughtful frown. "You okay?"
Veaning bobbed her head, shaking loose a few bloody feathers. "Metroids have to learn that Chozo can not be eaten. Little Warrior will not attack other Chozo anymore, now that it has tasted me."
"That's a relief." Samus muttered dryly. "I'm fine when I'm surrounded by Chozo here, but I'll be up to my neck in lawsuits if I unleash this critter anywhere remotely near Federation territory."
"Try to be careful." Was all the advice Veaning would give. She reached into the pouch strapped to her side and retrieved something wrapped in broad, tea-colored leaves. She came closer and nudged the metroid shyly with her beak, welcoming it as she would any newly hatched Chozo, yet wary of another attack. The child revived slightly from the touch and buried itself deeper into Samus's hands, as if shunning Veaning for not being able to absorb her energy.
"A present," Veaning explained, almost apologetically. "Since my energy is not sufficient, I offer you this in my stead." She unwrapped the leaves to reveal a multi-legged animal, one of the furry, vertebrae caterpillars which inhabited the canopies. It was motionless, drugged into a sleep so it won't feel the pain of losing its ghost. The metroid immediately roused and took interest in the fresh source of energy, floating upwards with newfound enthusiasm. It circled this prey once, cautious this time, and lunged.
Chozo and human watched the noisy feeding combination of metroid and caterpillar. The infant was a messy eater, and if it actually used its fangs for chewing rather than gripping, then there would probably be a large splattering of blood and gore on the wooden floor for Samus to clean up later. Thankfully, the caterpillar corpse was left mostly intact once the child was finished with it. Veaning wrapped it up in the leaves again and commented on how its flesh could still be eaten even though its ghost was gone. Just then, Wind Elder landed in front of the doorway, brandishing a similar leaf-wrapped package.
"Ah, I am too late. Little Warrior has already eaten." The elder observed, staring mournfully at his own present. "A pity that the metroid can not accept all the offerings it will be presented. Eating too much at a time would unbalance it." He glanced curiously at the hovering metroid, who pointedly ignored the Chozo in favor of returning to its mother's side. "How about you, Defender? Have you eaten yet?" He thrust his caterpillar at Samus, who backed away.
She eyed the package warily. "Eat it? Just like that? Shouldn't I cook it first?" It's not that the bounty hunter was squeamish about eating raw, live flesh (she's done it before), but it seemed somewhat below Chozo standards to do these sort of things.
"You misunderstand," Wind Elder said with a hint of laughter in his voice. "I mean you can absorb its energy, like a metroid does."
"Oh. But I," Samus hesitated, then sighed. "I'd rather not. I'm afraid I'll become addicted."
"Addicted?" The elder cocked his head, a very bird-like gestrue.
"I understand her, Father." Veaning said. "Like how one who is blind and can suddenly see might thirst for color, Sister has aquired a new sense which she has never experienced before. And a thirst for removing ghosts can too easily be carelessly used."
"Ah." Wind Elder said, both proud of his daughter's insight and abashed that he did not come to the same conclusion earlier. In place of the caterpillar, he offered Samus some condensed Lann which was a suitable enough breakfast for the three of them.
Both Chozo watched the human/larvae pair with curiosity and a bit of reverence. As Samus swallowed, the metroid clinging to her neck bobbed like an adam's apple, purring with sleepy contentment. Wind Elder smiled appreciatively. "It eases my heart to see one of the Ultimate Warriors in existence again."
"Do metroids really mean that much to the Chozo?" Samus asked, lightly caressing the larvae at her neck. It seems to have claimed the bounty hunter's throat as its favorite perch, snuggling under her chin like a swollen jugular.
Wind Elder stroked the baby with his beak, moving upwards so he grazed the skin of Samus's cheek. "All the Chozo of this planet descend from the former inhabitants of Troidemis. If not for the Ultimate Warriors, we would not exist today. The Eaters would have destroyed our ancestors."
"Ah. No wonder."
"As a matter of fact, we are preparing a special ceremony to celebrate Little Warrior's hatching."
"A ceremony? Like, a party?"
"I suppose. It would be a celebration with you and your new child as guests of honour."
Samus blinked at the concept. She had never attended any of the more frivolous Chozo events; her Zebes forefathers were a relatively despondent bunch. Events she had attended mostly included council meetings and funerals. And yet, she couldn't quite imagine her solemn adopted race and her working definition of 'party' in the same sentence.
"There shall be food and performances and displays of artistic creations from all over this planet and beyond." There was a certain eagerness in Wind Elder's expression, like a child anticipating a birthday party. "There shall be prayers for you and your metroid's well-being, and gifts for both of..."
"Is this going to be tonight?" Samus asked abruptly.
"Yes. Most of the preparations are already complete. We have been expecting the Warrior to emerge at around this time."
"So soon after hatching..." Samus muttered. She put a hand thoughtfully to her chin, but rested it on the larvae. "Will all this excitement be too soon for my metroid?" The words slipped out of her mouth, mildly surprising her. It had been so long since Hatchling had left her. She thought she had long abandoned her 'mothering' attitude, but now, to her bemusement, she picked up right where she left off. Already she was worrying about the needs and comfort of her offspring. This would take a bit of getting used to. She was no longer the most important person in her life.
Veaning and her father left to prepare for the upcoming event, leaving Samus a few hours of private time with her child. It was a bit of a sombring experience for her, even as she watched the infant explore its vast new world, full of the infectious joy and energy of the young. She kept on expecting it to squeal at a certain pitch, to emit a particular hue, and to land on her head, not neck. It was different from Hatchling, and Samus noted all those minute differences, remorseful, still grieving. It would take a while for her to grow used to this new metroid generation.