Chapter 2: The 07 Squadron

Days went by in their quiet way. Weeks turned into months. People's recollections of Metroids and Space Pirates had grown distant, relegated to the pages of Cosmic History. Samus wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd been thrown in jail for contempt of court. Strangely, all she could think about was the Baby and how it had sacrificed its life to save her. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if the creature had managed to survive. Would it grow into a apex-predator like its brethren? The short answer was, most likely. Thanks to the Federation, Space Pirates, and a myriad of failed experiments from both organizations, however, they grew to become an abomination to the universe. An abomination only Samus could destroy.

The Federation also knew this, and so contracted her to destroy the species, to clean up the mess they had made. She had rightfully fulfilled this mission, as well as destroyed the remnants of the Space Pirates with the destruction of Zebes. And yet, she was laying here in a prison cell. What's more, her contract (and subsequent payment) had been terminated by Chairman Keaton. Samus couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal as she lay in her cell contemplating what was to become of her now that she was stuck here serving a cycle's worth of hard time over something so idiotic like a comment.

Samus continued to stare at the ceiling of her cell, lost in thought. I risk my life and get thrown in prison because the Chairman has a bug up his ass… Unbelievable. He's one to talk about respect. Probably crooked like the rest of them…

Suddenly, the deep voice of a man brought her from her reverie. "Ms. Aran? It seems as if the Federation is in need of your services yet again…"

Samus offered the man no warm welcome. "Typical Federation, changing your mind at the drop of a hat only if you feel it'll benefit you. Go find someone else to be your janitor…" she replied coldly.

The man's voice was gruff and serious. "Unfortunately, there is no one else capable enough I'm afraid. Now on your feet, Aran."

Samus sat up to address the mysterious man. Heavily-wrinkled face, sagging jowls, slender build. Looked to be somewhere in his sixties, possibly older. Dressed in the typical Federation Army Service Uniform of a General officer. From the looks of the many insignia on his uniform, Samus gathered he was a four-star General. Still, as was true to her nature, the salty hunter was without censor as sarcasm filled her voice. "Well, shit, imagine that? A full General, come to see me? Must be pretty serious if they sent you."

The General, whose nameplate identified as Westbrook, remained stoic as he removed his service hat. "It is, I'm afraid. Chairman Keaton sent me here to secure your liberty in return for your agreeing to undertake this latest mission. Approximately three weeks ago, we lost contact with a research vessel located at Cosmos Region A-47. We would like you to assist a squadron of soldiers in their investigation of the vessel. Should you accept this mission, you are to rendezvous with the unit aboard the Special Ops Battleship Vixin IV immediately. The CO in charge of the operation will brief you further regarding the mission parameters. What do you say, Aran?"

Samus kept her eyes on the General. "I say don't expect me to hold their hands during this investigation, General. Even if they are Special Ops."

His voice seemed to convey a sense of pride as a slight grin curved one corner of his mouth. "I can assure you there will be no hand holding, Aran; you will be dealing with the Seventh Squadron, one of the most skilled teams in the entire Army. Damn fine crop of men, the best."

Samus was almost ruthless in her reply, "I don't care how skilled they are, they'd better stay out of my way. Now, what's in it for me?"

The General seemed amused. "A ball buster, as always Aran; the Federation is willing to pay you double for a successful mission, plus reimburse you the payment of one-hundred-fifty thousand credits for your last mission, as well as drop all charges of Planetary Genocide, contempt of court and smuggling of illegal contraband."

Samus came to a sitting position on the cold steel slab. Burying her head into her hands, her stiff posture and deep focus suggested she was mulling things over in her mind. She had not became a bounty hunter for the money to begin with, but for vengeance. As was true of her decision to join the military shortly after leaving Zebes as a teenager. Vengeance. On those who killed her parents and left her orphaned. The bounties she received were more or less a result of this. But now that she had finally succeeded in fulfilling her life-long mission of exterminating the Space Pirates, Samus had long since felt a new void forming in her heart, one longing for something more outside of this vicious cycle, something all the money in the world couldn't buy. Still, the prospect of such a payment - in addition to the rest of the credits she'd acquired over the years - would bring with it the possibility of finally being able to move down a different path in life and put her past behind her once and for all.

Samus rose to her feet and approached the cell door. Her eyes, filled with cut-throat intensity, met those of the weathered General. "Just what does this investigation entail, General?"

"I believe I've already made it clear that the CO in charge of the operation will brief you once you arrive at the rendezvous point, did I not?"

"Fine. Play coy. I'll only do it on one condition: Drop the charges and pay me for my last mission up front." Samus replied coldly. "Do we have a deal?"

The General gave a slight chuckle. "I see time in the brig has done nothing to dull your edge, Aran. I will see what I can do."

Without saying a word, the old man left the room.

A few hours later, the General returned to confirm that he was able to persuade Chairman Keaton into dropping the charges against Samus and agreeing to reimburse her payment of two-hundred fifty thousand credits for completing her previous mission. In return, Samus agreed to accept the mission. There was another catch though, one that didn't particularly sit well with the lone-wolf hunter. As part of the agreement, she was required to follow the CO's every order, without question. For somebody who had been discharged from the Army for constantly disobeying orders, it was quite the bitter pill Samus had been forced to swallow.

Sitting in the cockpit of her Gunship, Samus couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy as the world passed her by outside. This is what her life had more or less become, what she had become. Not a bounty hunter, not a mercenary, but the resident janitor of the Galactic Federation.

With a little luck, she thought as her fingers moved across a nearby keypad, it'll all change after this...

Samus activated the ship's engines and headed once more into the breach that was the cosmos, en route to the rendezvous point.

Little did she know just how much this latest mission would end up changing her life...

Aboard the Federation Special Ops Battleship Vixin IV, several members of the Seventh Squadron, codenamed "Vulcan", gathered in the ship's mess hall for chow while exchanging conversation over the mission they were to embark on and the mysterious agent who would be assisting them during the operation.

One of them, a gruff sounding man with short brown hair and a sharp, crooked nose, scoffed as he ate his meal. "Can you guys believe this shit? Hiring one of those third-party assholes is like a slap in the face to us grunts!"

The eldest of the three gentlemen, somewhere in his late thirties with salt and pepper gray hair, attempted to diffuse his comrade's sudden temper. "Don't be so quick to judge, Lyle. Command obviously hired this third-party for a reason."

The man known as Lyle looked at his elder comrade from across the table and swallowed his bite of food while rolling his eyes. "Here we go, the fucking Diplomat of the Seventh is at it again." he replied with a groan. "Wake up, Maurice! Don't you see what this is? They probably sent someone here to babysit or some shit like that. Don't trust us to do our jobs."

Next to Lyle sat the third member of the unit, a man who looked to be about five or more cycles his junior. Shoulder length brown hair, a distinguishable scar above his left brow and a patchy thin beard. "I don't like it anymore than you do, Lyle. But I have to agree with Maurice on this one. Besides, it isn't like any of us have a say in the matter. So button up, will you?"

Lyle just shook his head as he continued to eat.

James turned to look at his comrade. "You know, for someone whose supposed to be so gung-ho all the time, you really do whine like a bitch sometimes, you know that?" he teased.

Maurice, usually always wearing a serious, but gentle, expression on his face, couldn't help but snort over James' comment. "Heh. He's got you there, Lyle. Seems like those panties of yours are always in a knot about something."

Lyle quickly changed the subject, "Whatever. So what's the story on this third-party agent?"

James looked up from his food tray. "Rumor has it they single-handedly obliterated the Space Pirates, along with an entire planet several months back. But don't quote me on that."

Lyle remained skeptical while attempting to keep himself from gagging on a big bite of food. "Shit, what are you trying to make me do, choke?"

Maurice and James both shook their heads.

"Of course not. The bugs will take care of that." smirked James. "Our destination is probably full of them."

Lyle quickly swallowed his portion. "Fuck off!" he growled. "And that's bullshit. Ain't no way a single person would be able to pull that off, much less live to tell about it. They may as well be up there with fucking Bigfoot and Santa Claus if you ask me!"

Their watch-like comms devices suddenly beeped. "Enough, Lyle. Commander wants us to report to the briefing room immediately. Move out!" Maurice replied.

Maurice, Lyle, and James met up with fellow comrade Anthony inside of the briefing room and stood at attention before their CO. Dressed from head to toe in the tradition Army Service Uniform of a General officer, he was wearing a stoic expression on his face, his piercing gray eyes closely examining each of the men underneath the brim of his formal hat. Despite his intensity, the General spoke in a calm, even tone. "Thank you all for reporting in haste. The party who will be assisting us has just docked and is being escorted here as we speak."

"Just what exactly is this agent going to be doing besides getting in our way?" asked Lyle, much to the collective disdain of his comrades; James made sure to give his outspoken friend a good jab in the ribs with his elbow. It was basically his way of telling Lyle to keep his trap shut, especially in front of the commander.

The General replied in a calm tone of voice befitting of a seasoned military veteran. "I will not dignify that with an answer, Sergeant. I advise you to keep that and any other discrepancies you may have to yourself. And I'm sure I do not have to remind you of the consequences should you fail to do so."

Yet Lyle kept digging. "It's a warranted question, sir. I mean no disrespect by it. I merely want to be able to perform my duties to the best of my ability without distraction."

The General's gray eyes bore into the outspoken man with the crooked nose. "I'm sure. But what makes you more entitled to this information over the rest of your fellow soldiers? Surely you do not think you're any better than they are?"

"No, sir. Just-"

The General's eyes narrowed. "Good."

The doors slid open with the entrance of a sergeant dressed in the Army's dark blue and gray digital camo combat dress. Towering next to him stood a figure cloaked from head to toe in a mysterious suit of yellow and red armor. The figure literally had a large cannon for a right forearm. Its left arm looked far more human. The armor cloaked figure towered over pretty much everyone else in the room, save for one of the men, as it stepped into the briefing room and began to quietly observe the men standing before it.

"General Malkovich, mercenary Aran, sir." announced the sergeant with a salute.

"Thank you, Sergeant Platt. Dismissed." replied the General.

Word of the agent's arrival soon caused the other soldiers to look upon the golden cyborg with mild awe. There were many bounty hunters and mercenaries in the universe, but only one of them really struck palpable fear into the hearts of criminals and the like across the universe. Samus Aran, protector of peace and destroyer of worlds. When all else failed, she would somehow prevail against the unfathomable odds when all hope seemed lost. Her planetary exploits would forever be the stuff of legends long after her death.

Lyle and James stood there flabbergasted while Maurice, Anthony and General Malkovich kept their usual cool before the figure clad in golden armor.

"Samus Aran? THE Samus Aran?" asked James, his brown eyes big with surprise.

The towering cyborg turned to approach both men before speaking to them in a synthesized voice. "That's correct. Is there a problem?"

James stiffed up. "No, ma'am. In fact, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The armor-clad figure towered directly in front of him, its face hidden beneath the red helmet. "Cut the bullshit. Don't get in my way, understand? And stop calling me 'ma'am'." she said coldly.

"Yes, ma'am." James nodded.

Standing next to him, Lyle crossed his arms and shook his head in disgust. "And you call yourself a man..."

"Stand down, Sgt. Smithsonian!" the General interjected sharply from across the room. He was standing before the outspoken man in a little more than three great strides, his gray eyes boring a hole through him. "You will show Ms. Aran the respect becoming of a soldier under my command. Is this understood?"

Lyle was quick to stiffen up, knowing he was one smart ass comment away from being kicked out of the prestigious unit or serving the remainder of his service on planet bumfuck. "Sir, yes, sir!"

The General's eyes narrowed. "Good. Remember that well, Sergeant." He turned to look at the bounty hunter. "Ms. Aran, welcome to the Special Ops Battleship, Vixin IV. I'm General Malkovich, the CO who will be overseeing this operation."

Still the same old Adam…Samus mused to herself. Won't let anybody in. The hunter approached the General then and began to take inventory of her former mentor. He'd aged rather well despite the perpetual stress of his job, with only a few wrinkles on his handsome face. There was something different about his eyes though, as they locked with those of the armored woman in front of him. Something she had noticed upon first entering the room. Those gray eyes of his had always appeared intense and cold, but not necessarily heartless. But as the bounty hunter continued to lock eyes with the General, she could feel a certain warmth in his eyes, a thawing of sorts, having been repressed for so many years.

"General Malkovich. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Samus replied with a slow nod.

General Adam Malkovich. Unbeknownst to the other soldiers, Adam and the bounty hunter shared a complicated history that ultimately turned into a friendship built on trust and understanding. Samus had served under Adam's command when she was a teenager. But that friendship became strained after Aran decided to travel a different path in life as an independent bounty hunter. But rather than hold her in contempt for her choice, Adam had continued to quietly support her throughout the years.

"Right. Let's get started, then," Adam replied before standing in the center of the room. His voice suddenly boomed within the small room. "Stand and present!"

Anthony, Lyle, James and Maurice stood side by side in front of their CO, while Samus stood off to the General's right.

"You will all report your name and rank to Ms. Aran immediately. Go!"

The first man up was definitely the most intense-looking. Short brown hair, a rugged, chipped face, crooked nose, brown eyes that could burn through denzium. Appeared to be somewhere in his early thirties. His voice was rough just like the rest of him. "Sergeant Lyle Smithsonian, Special Ops."

The second man looked older than the rest of the soldiers, given his salt and pepper gray hair and receding hairline. He looked very serious by nature, but not arrogant. Gentle. He spoke with a subtle French accent. "Sergeant First Class Maurice Favreau, Engineer and Second in Command."

The third soldier looked to be somewhere in his mid-twenties but decidedly more off-putting for some reason. Shoulder length brown hair, thin beard, a distinguishing scar on his left brow. His voice was one of calmness...and something else Samus couldn't quite put her finger on. "Specialist James Pierce, Intelligence."

The last member of the team was a large, muscular, dark-skinned beast of a man. Bald, brown eyes. He had a jovial, easy-going look in his eyes despite the stern expression on his face. Samus had immediately recognized him upon entering the room. "Captain Anthony Higgs, Point and Heavy Weapon Specialist."

Captain? Not bad... Samus mused.

"As ease, Seventh Squadron." Adam directed before the men relaxed.

Adam activated a large holo-screen displaying an oddly-shaped vessel before beginning his briefing. "Approximately three weeks ago, a research vessel known as the Bottle Ship suddenly fell into chaos. Intel suggests that the researchers aboard the ship were conducting experiments on a number of hostile bio-forms prior to the issuing of a distress signal. It is still unknown at this time who - or what - is responsible for the attack on the station, or if there are any survivors still present. Our mission is to investigate the cause of the attack, as well as locate and secure the safety of any survivors still aboard the Bottle Ship."

Adam pushed a small button on the wall terminal, the holograph turning red, blue and green. "Schematics indicate the presence of three sectors, each of which is based on one of three elements - fire, ice and earth. However, we won't know what's inside those sectors until we arrive. I want this mission to go smooth and by the numbers…" Adam's voice trailed off as he eyed Smithsonian with an icy glare. "Which means no blowing your load at the drop of a hat, Sgt. Smithsonian. That almost cost SFC. Favreau his life last time around. If I so much as see you fire a single round for no justifiable reason, your ass will be out of here, understood?"

"Got it, boss." replied Smithsonian with cool confidence.

"As for the rest of you, are these orders understood?"

The four men gave the Federation's trademark thumbs up to denote their acknowledgment of the mission. Then, Adam turned his attention to Samus. "As for you, Samus, though you are an independent contractor, you are still a member of this unit for the duration of this mission. Therefore, you are to obey my commands and activate your weapons only with my authorization. I also ask that you abstain from the use of Power Bombs. As you know, they can emit a high-temperature blast radius that cannot be obstructed by common materials, which is just a nice way of saying they can incinerate anything in their path. Any survivors on board wouldn't stand a chance. Regarding auxiliary weapons, I will authorize them as necessary. Do you understand?"

Samus gave a simple nod.

"Report to the hangar at 1800 hours. That's the end of the briefing. Dismissed!"

As the soldiers filed out one by one, Anthony slung his arm around Samus' round shoulder armor as they walked out the room.

"Looks like you and I have a lot of catching up to do, Princess." he said jovially, his voice echoing down the hall as he led Samus down the cramped corridor

In the mess hall, Samus couldn't help but feel the walls around her heart begin to soften as she sat, clad in her Zero Suit, which Anthony was apparently in awe of ("Make your armor appear again!" he'd kept saying), talking with Anthony about her travels over a simple, but rarely tangible, cup of coffee. Talks about her so-called "Zero Mission" to Planet Zebes, her adventures to Tallon IV, Aether, Bryyo, Elysia, the latter of which she admitted to being the most beautiful. Anthony had just sat there with an almost child-like gleam of excitement in his eyes - here he was, listening to the grand adventures of the legendary Samus Aran! Even more unbelievable, he found, was that he was actually one of the few people in existence to be able to call her a friend and not a foe.

It suddenly felt like old times again.

If only for a moment.