"Ms. Aran, this is Commander Raymond Jones of the United Nations Space Command Navy." Great, another UNSC jock had come to brighten her day. "We need you for a mission. We will be willing to pay you your normal rate plus a bonus if you-" Samus had already ended the link. It looked like she was headed for UNSC Headquarters.

"Any objections, lady?" It was Adam. He had invaded her home network again, but he was right. She had forgotten to accept,

"Send him a short mail," she replied as she left. Almost instantly, however, she was back inside. "Cats like water," she said to herself as she placed a bowl of it on the floor. "Adam, I want you in my ship and ready to go in no more than three hours."

"Yes, ma'am," was the only response he could give within the time it took her to get back out the door. Samus leapt onto her HoverCycle and shot towards UNSC Headquarters like a bat out of hell. This was a job, and, regardless of the client, she would get it done. After all, she was no longer the Galactic Federation's pet mercenary.

"Your man is late, Commander." The Admiral was making a blatant statement of the obvious, but the Commander understood why it was being stated.

"Samus will be here. I promise." He repeated. "Aran's services come highly recommended. You won't be disappointed."

"I had best not be, or you will find yourself short more than just a job," the Afmiral explained. "You'll notice that my man is already here." He waved at darkened corridor. A man, no, a giant stepped out from the shadows. He was armed in the uniform of the Spartans, Mjolnir Mark VI, possibly Mark VII. His very presence made Commander Jones shake in his standard-issue boots.

"Commander," the Admiral paused for effect. "Meet the Spartan Project's most successful production. His designation is Spartan-117, but you may know him simply as 'the Master Chief'." Commander Jones really hoped that Samus was all that his informant said she would be. This soldier, the Master Chief, was the greatest of Earth's defenses, a one-man army equipped with the best gear that taxpayers' money could provide. It was said that he had taken on both the Covenant and the Flood nearly single-handedly in the Interplanetary War. How could anyone possibly measure up to that?

Suddenly, Commander Jones heard clapping. The Admiral heard it too. They both turned to ascertain its source. Before them, in the distance of the room, another soldier sauntered towards them, this one clad in strange armor the likes of which he had never seen. The Master Chief had already drawn his weapon. This strange other soldier carried his weapon on his right arm. In fact, it seemed as though it was part of his arm, an arm cannon. Was this the Samus Aran he had been told about? Was this the soldier-for-hire who had single-handedly fought off an entire base of Space Pirates, seemingly decimating all of its high-ranking officers in one fell swoop? Was this the hunter who could be held personally responsible for the extinction of the deep space parasites known as Metroid? It had to be!

"This is your man, I presume?" The Admiral outstretched a cold, unwelcoming hand to the fabled bounty hunter. Samus didn't even glance down.

"Actually, she's a woman." the Master Chief corrected him.

"I assume I'm to be working with him," Samus guessed. The Chief was right, Samus was female. The Admiral coldly retracted his hand.

"By that tone, I can tell you've met. Is this going to be a problem?"

"Absolutely not," Samus replied. "As long as you're paying, the job's as good as done." The Admiral nearly smiled. Commander Jones knew that it had been a long time since the UNSC had run into someone with this kind of attitude.

"Very well," he replied, terminating negotiations for the time being. "If you will all turn your attention to the screen, we can get started." Commander Jones noticed that he had been the only one to take a seat, and so he stood. The screen flickered to life and began to display various technical data, nothing Commander Jones could read.

"Three weeks ago, we lost contact with one of our battlecruisers, the UNS St. Petersburg. As you can see on the screen, all readings were normal right up to the moment we lost contact. It's as though they were swooped up by the hand of God."

"Is there any chance they simply crossed a few wires they shouldn't have?" The Chief asked.

"That's what we thought," the Admiral concurred, "until two weeks later." As soon as he spoke, the screen changed to show what had once been the UNSC Frigate St. Petersburg. "The damage was both intensive and thorough. They knew exactly how hard to strike and where."

"What do we know of the crew's fate?" Samus asked, professionalism masking the true beauty behind her voice.

"Not a single body was found. At first, I played with the idea that they had sabotaged the ship and run away, but their service records were too, well, normal."

"Normal, Admiral?" The tone of Samus' voice indicated to Commander Jones that she was likely raising an eyebrow behind that visor.

"Yes, normal," the Admiral confirmed. "If they had been some kind of terrorist cell, then their records would have been spotless. They would not risk getting into trouble for fear that they might be discovered. On the other hand, if they were malcontents or delinquents, then their records would reflect that, filled with various warning signs of some deeper problems suggested by various counsellors and therapists accompanied by write-ups from countless superior officers." The Admiral took a second to breathe. "All of the men and women serving aboard the St. Petersburg were somewhere in the middle."

"Okay, so mutiny's out," the Master Chief acknowledged. "What about-"

"-Pirates," Samus finished decisively. Commander Jones was left in awe as to how Samus had drawn such a conclusion from such little information. Apparently, the Admiral had been thoroughly befuddled as well.

"What did you just-"

"The damage patterns on this ship," Samus explained, cutting the Admiral off, "are a near-perfect match to that of Zebesian Space Pirates. This was likely the work of some rogue faction."

"It sounds like you know these 'pirates' fairly well," the Admiral noted. "One would almost think that you and they worked closely."

"Oh we worked closely, all right," Samus quipped, "on opposite sides of the battlefield." The Admiral still wasn't convinced. Commander Jones didn't blame him. After all, there were no files on Samus Aran, none at all. She had no personnel files anywhere, no criminal records, no major monetary dealings save a HoverCycle and a house out in the cliffs, both of which were paid for with cash obtained by trading in ten tons of twenty-four karat gold bricks. No identity searches found a single match, and no eye-witnesses could be found. This woman was truly a ghost, but even she probably had some skeletons in her closet. Who was to say that she hadn't taken over command of these space pirates after killing their leaders?

"Who's to say you won't turn this mission into something I'm going to regret?" the Admiral asked bluntly?

"You can have someone feed my cat," Samus replied. "The second something goes wrong, you have the right to kill him."

"You're that sure of your loyalty to us?" The Admiral still seemed a little unconvinced.

"I'm that sure of my loyalty to your money," Samus corrected him. "Plus, I'm pretty sure your big boy could take me if he really wanted to." The Master Chief had managed to stay out of the conversation for so long. The Admiral pressed the question.

"Do you think you could take her?"

"In three moves, sir," he confirmed. The Admiral was satisfied with this. He was smiling broadly at the Commander, as if to rub in some sort of victory. Commander Jones, however, understood that Samus only put up with that sort of condescension because they were waving money in her face.

"Would you mind sending someone to feed him anyway?" Samus requested. "I've yet to become fully accustomed to living here, and I've yet to fully understand the 'wonders' of animal care."

"Very well, the Admiral gave in. "I'll see that Commander Jones gets right on it." Commander Jones' day just kept getting better and better. He would be getting to visit the home of Samus every day until her mission was complete. "We will need your address," the Admiral continued.

"Unless your intrusiveness is more disappointingly limited than I had hoped, you already have it," Samus countered. The Admiral did not respond, but his face confirmed that he had not disappointed.

"Now, as for the mission itself, I assume that this is a simple scouting job. You want me and this lugnut to make sure the coast is clear before you retrieve what's left of your ship."

"It's a little more delicate than that," Commander Jones piped in. "You see, the St. Petersburg was not just any frigate. We've been using it to test a new device that is fueled by a recently discovered element known as Phazon. Our tests were actually going pretty well until this happened."

"I'm beginning to understand why the Space Pirates went after this ship," Samus observed. "Okay, so you want us to retrieve the Phazon device as well?"

"I want you to retrieve the Phazon device," the Admiral corrected her. "That is your number one priority."

"Very well," Samus replied, seemingly unphased by the Admiral's blunt description of their task. "I accept this mission." The Admiral turned and waved for Commander Jones to follow him out.

"You accepted this mission the day you landed here," the Admiral muttered as he left. Commander Jones also left, but his parting words were formed only by an apologetic shrug of the shoulders.

Samus' auditory implants had caught the admiral's quip, but she chose to ignore it. She was, after all, somewhat of an illegal alien. She would do well to earn respect in the right places. It was probably best to start with this "Master Chief". She noticed him turning to leave and called, probably a bit too desperately, for him to wait. He silently acquiesced to her request, and she marched over to him. When he asked her what it was she wanted, she realized that she had nothing to say to him. She would be contacted once they were ready for her. She would be ready three hours beforehand. The briefing proved that she knew more about their enemy than anyone else. There was only one thing she could think of to say.

"I wanted to thank you for last night. It was..." She always had problems giving proper thanks. "It was very noble of you to come and investigate, even if I did have it under control." The sarcasm was dripping from her every word, and she would have been extremely disappointed if he had not caught on to it, but the space jock took it in stride.

"I just couldn't bear to watch those two harm such a delicate flower," he replied. The space jock had more subtlety to him than she had expected. Samus turned without another word and dutifully walked away. There was nothing she could say to that, not now, not with a job hanging in the balance. Until she had citizenship and a license for everything she owned, this guy was her superior, and so she was required to let him have the last word. As she reached the door, however, time caught up with her thoughts, and something about his voice struck a memory. She turned around to look at him once more, but he was already gone. Could it be? After all, Reynolds and she had gone their separate ways after he helped her escape the Federation's wrath, and with his military record, it would not be hard for him to find work here. It was odd that his voice had changed, but maybe that was for his protection. He was as much a fugitive as she was. Samus turned around and realized that, lost in her thoughts, she had already left the building.