Chapter 23: Plan and Pursue

You've killed all your pets. Now what's next?

Federation Carrier Salachimorpha – Bridge

Lieutenant Kelso really hated these guys. Anderson and Lennings were as grating as sandpaper. Like they were hard-wired to be inconvenient assholes. Wedges driven under the nail.

Anderson and Lennings did not call for daily or even weekly reports, but instead ordered Kelso to call them whenever he saw fit. Anderson and Lennings took this opportunity to scoff every time they'd walk in, as if they knew Kelso would never have anything for them, and that "Kelso's" meeting would be as waste of time, only playing into their already-set expectations of the Lieutenant.

But not this time. Kelso had a barn-burner waiting for them.

Kelso tapped on the digital whiteboard – trails of statistical data and layers of images bounded upon the screen before them. They orbited the image of a sopping-wet planet.

"Elex," Kelso began. "An eleven-ship caravan was destroyed outside of its orbit around 24 hours ago."

Anderson looked like he was already ready to leave. Lennings might as well have taken a phone call he was so tuned out. Anderson waved him off. "Pirate on Federation violence, in Pirate territory, near a planet known for Pirate activity. Anything else?"

Lennings was now actually getting up. "When I gave you the chance to take the reins yourself, Kelso, I didn't think you'd work the leather into a pair of chaps to expose yourself with."

Kelso ignored him. He tapped the whiteboard again. The screen was already filled, but now it was overwhelmed by one solitary image – that of an X Parasite.

Lennings sat back down.

"X remnants were found among the debris," Kelso said. "Not only were the test results certified, but they found that the parasites originated from SR-388."

Anderson cleared his throat. "They survived the impact then. Samus couldn't even do that right." Kelso bit his tongue.

"Quite a ways from SR-388, though," commented Lennings. "Parasites must've adapted to the vacuum."

"They might have always had that capability, sir. They were never tested or found off-planet," said Kelso.

Anderson sighed. "We've got a rogue bounty hunter on the loose, and now these parasites, too. We haven't even allocated all the necessary resources to retrieve Aran, and now we've got this to deal with. Just after a budget call, too. Damn bugs."

Kelso further held back. He'd been meandering about Selachimorpha, waiting for his assignment to hunt me down after Anderson and Lennings had given him his orders weeks ago. At the time, I would've been relieved to know how much the Federation was spinning their wheels in their attempts to find me. What was taking them so long?

"Why," Kelso continued, "have we not started the search for Samus Aran?"

Lennings propped himself up in his seat, just as Anderson was about to reply. Anderson slouched back in his chair as Lennings checked his wrist communicator. He needed glasses, yet insisted on using such microscopic technology he could barely read. He must've taken years off his eyes' lifespan by straining them on such small screens.

"Because haven't known where to look. But it looks like our pirate pals do."

Lennings tapped his communicator, throwing a package of data across the room toward the digital board. The board was instantly scrubbed clean, replaced with a data feed encrypted in Space Pirate code.

"That's your ticket," Lennings said, pointing his chin at the monitor. "The Absolute. Commander Veron's got a date with our lady bounty hunter."

Federation Vessel Ranger-Class 64-X - Unknown Sector

I barely made it back to Ranger 64-X. I doubted those Federation troopers I left behind on Tallon IV never expected a bounty hunter to be ambling back into it, near-death, after being attacked by an X cloud in the middle of space.

Left behind? No. I killed them. I had to accept that. Like all the others. Like every other time.

Adam didn't respond immediately when I clambered aboard. I hit the outside of the vessel pretty hard. The X cloud was partially dispersing thanks to that Power Bomb I impregnated it with. It was now less of a cloud and more of an array of blobs and masses, all different shapes and sizes. Like bits of congealed food sitting on the surface of dirty water in an unwashed cereal bowl.

I dislodged my helmet as quick as I could, gulping air, almost coughing on it. I planted my hands firmly on the floor, but still felt uneasy. This wasn't solid ground. We were still suspended by ourselves in the middle of this empty sector. No matter how many times you do the job, your nerves can still get the best of you. Your stomach can still tumble. Discipline does not erase fear or anxiety, it just distracts you from it.

"Samus, are you okay? Your vitals read normal." Adam didn't use "Lady" this time. I wondered if our conversation earlier had anything to do with it.

"I'm fine," I replied abruptly. "But this isn't."

Samus slid the data chip into the ship's control panel. Ramger-class Federation ships were about as simple as it got, but at least they could read data chips.

A black warning tab popped up. Data corrupted.

"I pulled it as Excolo was getting wise. His dual-AI caught me as it was finishing up. I didn't really have time to hit Eject Safely. I was just hoping it finished in time."

I almost listed until I was out of breath. Why did I have to explain myself to this AI anyway? Wasn't like he used to be my CO. Just his son.

"Well." Adam paused to muster up the best words to greet me with. The real Adam wouldn't have stopped himself from issuing important data or ordering a command. "The good news is you got almost all of it. The best news is you didn't get enough to strain a partial from it. But, on more good news, it seems like the X have settled down for now."

I looked through the ship's main vantage point. The front shields were still smeared with parasitic goo. On the side windows, I could make out Excolo's ship on the other side of the slowly-disappearing X cloud. It sat there spinning haphazardly. I could make out the gaping hole I left behind. The sudden change in pressure had nearly ripped the ship in half.

I slumped into my chair. Whatever energy I had left was being used to figure out what the hell was exactly going on. There wasn't much left to coerce my armor off me. Although I remember losing a bit of air as I scouted my armor quickly. Somehow I hadn't noticed a few cracks and dents across its surface. Including one spot on my right shoulder where a part of the armor had been broken off.

I sighed sharply. "The BSL should have obliterated any trace of the X. Any trace of any living organism on SR-388 for that matter. Yet here we are."

"The impact was never rated for full-scale planetary obliteration. Yet here we are," said Adam.

"Right," I continued. "The self-destruct sequence was purely rated for just that, self-destruct. And that's what it accomplished. The BSL was destroyed. Yet it packed a punch to destroy the whole planet. I wonder if the Federation had known that from the start. That it had that capability."

Adam paused again. He was surely processing something without telling me outright. Adam was still a fragment AI not connected to the rest of the Federation system, but he still had prior information and connects. He could have still possessed critical, or even confidential, Federation information that he was scouring. Databases, treasure troves of Federation information that he was keeping from me somehow.

Although I wasn't sure how. How could he possess all that information just here on the ship, or otherwise without a permanent drive installation nearby? Maybe he was remotely connected to something, or someone.

Adam spun up again like a wind-up toy. "You knew how resilient the X were. They survived the BSL impact. SR-388 was destroyed but it wasn't vaporized. The X must have survived on the debris, found that they could survive in the vacuum, then went from there."

I didn't like how certain he answered me. But there was little time to play 20 questions with an AI who was likely hiding something. Would his father have done the same had it been him?

"Well we can't do anything with this corrupted lore," I said. "We have to find another way to decipher the lore, or we need to dig ourselves a hole on some rock somewhere and hope the Federation forgets about us."

Adam must know I'm joking. "The Federation never forgets." I guess not.

A loud THUD reverberated through the ship's steel walls. It sounded like footsteps. Someone was scaling the outside of the ship.

"Release the air locks," I ordered. Adam paused again, but as I reared up to repeat myself with added vigor, the air locks were indeed released.

Through the hatch stepped Excolo Excolo. His white aura tapered and sputtered around his suit of low-level power armor. An elementary school science project compared to my Chozo Power Armor.

I peeled out of my chair, almost ripping it from its screws and washers. I leveled my arm cannon at him, not even flinching. But neither did Excolo. He slumped up against the wall, almost collapsing in a heap. He unbuckled his suit and popped off his helmet, releasing a trifling amount of pressure, as if the helmet was barely sealed. That was probably the case.

Excolo through his head back. Dirty-blonde locks bounced up and down again. He found much more comfort in the steel walls and floor than I did, as if he had just washed ashore after surviving the Titanic. Any flat surface would do for him in this state.

"Kill me if you must," Excolo begin. "I won't be able to fight back. Nor do I intend to."

I stayed perfectly still.

"At least show me the decency of explaining why you were on my ship, and what you were doing with that." Excolo gestures to the data chip, still half-stuck into the control panel.

I still didn't answer.

"Fine," Excolo said. He began to move. I pointed my cannon as firmly as I could. No sudden movements. But he was only adjusting himself to get more comfortable. "I'm good at games."

Excolo tapped at his power armor, revealing a simple communications device. A scrambled voice played from his wrist. Apparently his suit also had the technology of an answering machine, at the very least. More than I expected of it.

The voice was scrambled, sure, but it was clearly not human, not speaking in any language even remotely similar to English or any other Earthly tongue. It was a Space Pirate.

The transmission ended abruptly. "Not sure if you caught any of that." Excolo had some candor in his voice now. "But that was some soldier in the pirate forces transmitting to a one Commander Veron aboard the Absolute. That carrier is heading towards Elex, and is on a trajectory that would put it in this sector, as well."

Had the pirates really tracked me down before the Federation? How? I wasn't sure how to take this information. I kept my focus on my cannon and its focus on Excolo. For all I knew he could have vomited some words into a voice scrambler and made this whole thing up himself. Although he would've been pressed for time to do that between when I almost shot him through his depressurized ship and getting aboard mine.

Excolo continued. "And, don't be alarmed, but those parasites are just biding their time. They'll reform eventually. Before long we're going to have two major big bites that we won't be able to scratch."

"Maybe we should let them duke it out first and take on the winner," I said. Excolo laughed, not expecting the banter. Neither did I.

"As entertaining as that sounds, I don't think it'd be that clean," said Excolo.

"No it wouldn't. It's a lose-lose situation. We don't want the pirates coming across all this X. They'd probably find a way to reverse engineer power or information out of them. And we don't want the X coming across all these pirates. Last thing we need is a carrier filled with infected pirates and rogue X."

"It seems like they don't know about the X yet, or if they do they haven't played their hand. Bringing one of their only carriers all the way into this sector would be risky if they knew the X were waiting for them."

"Right," I said. "The pirates love their big carriers. Makes them seem more grand than they actually are, when the rest of their "fleet" are stolen ships and heaps of junk cobbled together. They must know I'm here. They wouldn't send Absolute if there wasn't a good reason for it."

Excolo nodded. Then he remembered the data chip. He pointed to it again. "So, what was so important on my ship that you needed?"

I sighed. I might as well tell him. I got back into my seat, but kept myself facing Excolo.

"The pirates seem to be on my case. But so are the Federation. They aren't my biggest fan after I sent one of their research stations hurtling towards SR-388. Took out the whole damn planet, but apparently not the X the Feds wanted me to save for them. I'm running from the both of them, which cuts out most of my potential phone calls. My directory is pretty slim. I went to the only person I had left on the list."

Excolo chuckled through labored breaths. "How flattering. But unfortunately I don't believe that you'd come to me even if I was the last human left in the universe. The last regular human that is." Excolo said that last line with a big of a sneer. I knew what he meant.

I don't think I could keep up a lie. But I don't want to cave so early and give away this information when I might not need it. The less involved Excolo is in this mess the better. I just need an ally for a short time.

In that pause, Excolo had already read me front to back. He tapped at his transmitter. It began to rapidly flash red, as if it were trying to induce a seizure. Excolo leaned forward, cradling his arm across his knees. He knew I knew what he had done.

Stupid. I have to wake up. I shouldn't have just let him in. I'm looking for answers, solutions, anything from almost anywhere. I'm trusting things, places, people in hopes that they'll come through for me, that they'll be the escape I need. This growing trust. It could get me killed.

"Alright," Excolo said. "We don't have time to play anymore. Tell me what you were doing on my ship. Right now."

Pirate Carrier Absolute - En Route to Elex

Weavel Xeron had taken several months to get used to his new body. The physical recuperation was only for a short period of time, but the mental recovery took years. It wasn't easy switching from body to body to yet another body.

He'd been posted within the Absolute bridge for the better part of the afternoon as the ship silently cruised from sector to sector, occasionally jumping to slip-space when they could afford it. The Absolute was majestic, but it was far from infallible. It could only jump into slipspace to cover vast distances for short periods of time, and took almost quadruple the time to charge the necessary resources to do so again.

The pirates were still so used to commandeering Federation ships, or constructing their own from whatever means necessary, that working upon a ship of this size and stature was daunting for them. Weavel couldn't imagine what it was like for the pirates working upon the Ultimatum Ready, where the pirates were now based since Zebes had been destroyed for good. The Absolute was the Ultimatum's younger brother, if they had been born a generation apart and to completely different families.

Little did the Federation know that the pirates had barely had control of these carriers and others like it for a very brief amount of time.

Commander Veron was somewhere about the Absolute, likely avoiding Superiors Trirun, Ulron, and Helgon like he was. But they were about to hit their destination. Weavel didn't have much time.

He entered an empty council room and began to ring the Ultimatum. He expected one of Ridley's lackeys to respond. But he didn't even get that.

"Getting antsy, Weavel?" It was Commander Veron, standing in the doorway.

Weavel didn't turn around. "I already told you all. I can do this by myself."

"High Commander wants you at your most valuable. Commanding a squadron is the value he wants out of you right now."

"Ridley commanded squads just like those on missions just like this one. He knows what can be lost. He can be convinced to think otherwise," retorted Weavel.

"High Commander issued these orders. And you know that," said Veron.

The transmission was never accepted. Weavel slammed a fist on the table out of frustration, but quickly recoiled. Veron is still his commander, too.

"Sir, when we lose more than we can count, don't expect a report. I've already told you what happens," said Weavel. As he talked, Veron tapped at his wrist transmitter.

Suddenly, Ridley's image sparked upon the monitor. Weavel might have jumped out of his skin if he had any left. Even for the most weathered of combatants, Ridley was still a nightmare to behold.

Ridley leered toward the camera. His words dripped from his tongue like acid.

"Weavel. Veron."

Veron stood at attention. "High Commander, sir." Weavel remained motionless.

"Weavel, you have words for me?"

"I hope you already know how I feel about this mission," Weavel said.

"I do. Understand that there's more at play here, Weavel. I wouldn't feed you to Samus if I knew you tasted bad," cackled Ridley.

Veron's nostrils flared, but of course Weavel was expressionless.

"I need to know what the Hunter is still capable of, what allies she has, and what resources she might retain," Ridley continued. "I need fodder to do that. I need you to make sure the information gets back to me."

Weavel wasn't surprised by Ridley's train of thought. He just hoped it would offer some wiggle room.

"But don't fret," laughed Ridley. "I think you'll like the pay-off for this one."

And with that, the monitor turned off. "On me," said Veron as he stepped out of the room.

Weavel trailed Veron through the Absolute, deeper into the vessel than he had ever thought to go. Deeper than he had any need to go. Or so he thought.

Veron continued down corridor after corridor without acknowledging Weavel at all, until:

"Ridley knows what you're capable of. This mission is not yours. But when it is your time, we want you to be more prepared than you could imagine."

Veron applied his credentials, offering a touch upon a pad and his pupil for identification. The dull-gray doors before them stuttered open. Weavel figured they weren't open very often.

Inside, a laboratory with high ceilings. A crowd of pirates moving about, from panels to dashboards and back to the circled group at the center. None of them even tilted their head toward Veron and Weavel. They continued about their work like robots. Like insects compelled by pheromones to do their duty.

"The Superiors think Aran was lazy. Or careless. I did, too. But truly, the chances of leaving yourself behind after the destruction of an entire planet can be easily overlooked."

A small light caught Weavel's peripheral – inside a small tube canister, a small chunk of Samus' Chozo power armor.

They approached the crowd, and the pirates moved out of their way for them.

"We were lucky enough to reverse engineer what was left over. But we can't afford taking a chance on you, trying it out on you. So we made a friend amongst the Feds to help us out."

Weavel finally made it to the table. Trapped to it, a writhing, almost-naked human male. Held down by all limbs by circulation-cutting straps. Metal pieces and fixtures had been surgically appended to his frame. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot. He looked as though he'd pass out from the pain, but every touch and prod forced him to stay conscious.

The man shot a look at Weavel, desperate to communicate to him. His eyes couldn't be wider.

Veron bent over. "Isn't that right, Lieutenant Cameron Randall?"