Chapter Five: The Only Way Out is Through

The Daiban sun hid behind the brutal towers of Remdan's business district as Samus hurried along the sidewalk. With each step she took, there was a smack as her heel hit the concrete. City lights shone on her from above, casting shadows in all directions that mingled with those of nearby pedestrians. She was in her element, confidence clear in her body language. The sway of her shoulders and hips and the indelible smirk spoke to the crowd that this woman was not to be messed with.

She wore her Zero Suit as she always did when she was prepared to take a dangerous mission. The blue, skintight bodysuit manifested itself in a manner similar to her power suit, a lesser marvel of the Chozo that could be worn without the mental strain a suit of armor imparted. It was, almost in a literal sense, a second skin for her.

Energy flowed through Samus, now fully refreshed from a full night's sleep. The Star-Suite Hotel would need a well-written, five-star review when this was all over. She hadn't slept that well in years. Currently, she was en route to the set of coordinates from the hard drive. When she came upon them, it didn't surprise her to find it was a shipping company. Likely affiliated with the Federation military in some part if Dravis had stowed a ship here.

Samus stepped inside the building to the sound of a chiming bell. There was a man at the front desk, balding with a plaid shirt, that looked as engrossed in his work as one could expect. That is to say, not at all. He either didn't hear the bell chime or didn't care. Samus stepped towards the counter and made a short ahem sound to get his attention. The man gazed up at Samus and let out a short yawn, then spoke in a dull voice.

"You here for the F-47?" He looked down and lazily typed something out on a keyboard that was stashed behind the counter. A hologram formed above the counter of a ship. It was a personal, Commercial-Class spacecraft. Its rectangular shape and stubby wings gave the impression it was specifically a Class-D, but Samus couldn't be sure. The ship was small enough to be flown by a single person for short deliveries. It wasn't something that could be used for a reconnaissance mission.

"Yes," Samus said in response. The man tapped a few keys, and the hologram disappeared. He stood up, stepped out from behind the counter, and gestured for Samus to follow him. Without a word, Samus followed. It was all around a very curt encounter.

The man led Samus into the building's hangar, a massive, elongated room with several levels of ships all standing in rows. These ships ranged from personal to freighter sized in ascending order. It was a short walk before the man stopped in front of the ship from the hologram, then turned to Samus.

"Here's the ship. Pretty good condition."

Not much for talking, she took it. He placed his hand on the ship and looked it over, seemingly fixated on it.

"What exactly do you need this for?" he asked, turning towards Samus. "Y'don't really look like the delivery girl kinda gal, y'know?"

Samus wasn't sure how to respond. The man continued anyway.

"Guy came in yesterday and said I'd know who to hand this ship off to by their eye. He said it'd be a blue eye. Thought he meant, y'know, the actual eye. Guess he was making a joke."

Samus brushed her fingers along the blue-tinged scarring around her right eye. It was certainly an identifying marker if nothing else.

"You're Samus Aran, right?" the man then asked.

Not having expected this line of questioning, Samus stammered a response. "Yes- Yes, I am. How did you know?"

"Cousin of mine worked on some Federation ship as a mechanic a few years back. Apparently you were having an off day or something. He mentioned seeing you with your helmet off, said you had a scar around your eye." The man gently tapped the hull of the delivery ship and a ramp descended, hitting the ground with a dull thud. "Guess you need this for something important. Take care of her."

"I do," she responded. "If anyone asks, don't tell them I was here."

"Like anyone'd believe me if I did." The man guffawed and waved Samus off before he walked away.

Samus walked up the ramp onto the ship and found that it was more cramped than it appeared from outside. She maneuvered into the cockpit, wedging herself onto the seat. Before her were a bevy of buttons, switches, and dials all to control the ship. It was more complicated than her own vessels, which were integrated with her power suit so she could control them using her heads-up display. Since she flew a Federation ship for her mission to the BSL, she was now accustom to these controls.

Underneath the control panel was a small compartment. Samus opened it to find a small card. It bore an image of her, clearly airbrushed to remove her scarring. This had to be her new ID. She brushed her thumb over the image and lines of data surfaced on the card.

SYLVIA WYLAND

CHROMETECH SERVICES

GENDER: FEMALE

DOB: JUNE 2, 2055

ORGAN DONOR: Y

ID: J5-VRM-76L

Samus rolled her eyes. Even if the information didn't need to be accurate, she figured Dravis was playing a joke by making her an organ donor. There weren't many people in the galaxy who could match her blood type. She placed the card back into the compartment and leaned back into the chair. Reaching for the lever at the side of the control panel, Samus slowly pulled and with a low groan the thrusters activated. This was absolutely a D-Class ship. The thrusters were weak.

"Couldn't afford a better ship?" Samus said dryly.

Samus messed with the control panel until the settings were to her liking. Artificial gravity, air pressure, life support. They wouldn't be as comfortable as her own ship, but it was better than the cold depths of space. She closed the ramp and began lift-off. The ship spun towards the ceiling at her command. She could feel the ship rumble as it lifted further into the air. Her back pressed into the stiff seat as the ceiling split apart, croaking out a low note as the sky opened for her ascension.

As her ship entered the mesosphere, blue became black. The ink of space, dotted with specks of white, filled her view. In the distance, stretched across the horizon of Daiban, the Damocles clung to its home planet. Where Samus had been first bound to this world now was forced to hide behind it. There was nary a thought in her head as sweet as knowing she was free of this planet, even if it was for a short time.

The ship's radio gave off a short beep, signaling an incoming transmission. Samus tuned to the radio frequency used by Federation ships and listened as a distant, unseen ship communicated with her.

"Unidentified vessel, please transmit your identity code. We are standing by."

It was a routine message which Samus responded to with as much a routine manner as possible. She finished transmitting the faked identification and awaited a response.

"All good to go, Miss Wyland. Proceed."

And with that, Samus was free of Daiban. She set the ship for hypermode and plotted her course according to the plan she had mapped out before falling asleep. Before she could investigate the coordinates given to her, she would need a recon-operational vehicle. Something built for this mission. There was one planet close enough to the coordinates within Federation space she could go to, a large gas planet named Vetaxa. If Daiban was the galaxy's bustling metropolitan, Vetaxa was the seedy underbelly. There one could find all manner of goods, even those not sanctioned by the government.

Inputting Vetaxa as her destination, Samus relaxed. She had time to kill before her ship would reach the planet as a D-Class ship wouldn't be nearly the speed of a Hunter-Class gunship. The estimated time of arrival was four hours. The time was spent plotting out possible courses of action. She understood her mission was purely to gather information, but in her experience a mission rarely ever went smoothly.

Images of Space Pirates floated through her mind, and she remembered a mantra from her foster parents. To be prepared was to have already won. Old Bird repeated this to Samus oft in her training. If she were to be the galactic savior, she had to be ready for anything, to have a countermeasure. Possibilities stretched out like river branches in her mind.

The Space Pirates were the most likely suspects. They were known to act in the FS-176 system. They set up bases on Zebes and Talon IV. Even if Samus destroyed their leadership time and time again, any remnant faction could sprout from the remains and overtake the previous. New leadership, new enemies. Taking out small passing ships was well within their range, but taking out an Olympus-Class battleship required they either have numbers or technology. There wasn't enough time for them to shore up numbers, they had to have new technology. Something that could shut down the Aegir's systems.

Samus listed any possible technology that could be used against the Aegir. EMPs or viruses were most likely. With the Aurora Unit shut down, it would simply be a matter of boarding the ship. Pirates wouldn't leave without either capturing the crew or stealing whatever technology was available. Then they'd take it back to their base of operations. Talon IV was the obvious choice. They'd be familiar with the terrain, and it was the only inhabitable planet left in the solar system.

Thoughts ebbed from her mind as her body relaxed and entered a meditative state. More ideas flowed through her, each tangible for a moment but relinquished as a new idea took its place. In four hours, an entire day's planning would commence.

When Samus' eyes opened, her ship was exiting hyperspace. As the stars unstretched around her and new constellations formed, she took note of the gas giant that lay ahead of her, glowing a deep, hazy purple. Vetaxa was a resource rich planet that was too dangerous for the Galactic Federation to mine. Those who were brave enough, or foolish enough, came to this planet seeking their fortune. If Daiban was the center of Federation approved business, Vetaxa was its counterpart. A refuge for the seedy and underhanded.

Dotting the spacescape above Vetaxa was several colonies of varying sizes and shapes, pasted together from scraps by the inhabitants. One formed an uneven ring that rotated slowly on its axis. Samus piloted her ship towards it, finding a small port along the side that opened to inside the structure. The landing pads were small, raised metal circles that dotted the inside of the structure.

There were few lifeforms in the port. A few humanoids and alien creatures huddled around a ship on the opposite side, but Samus had little reason to pay them any mind. When Samus landed the ship, none of them noticed. She exited her ship in a hurry and moved to the inner workings of the ring. These structures were similar to Space Pirate vessels in that they were labyrinthine. Cramped corridors and low lights. All power was doled out with meticulous precision. Not a watt could go to waste; no expense was spared.

Samus found what she was looking for when she stepped into a small section of the ring with a glowing sign that read, "The Ring's Corner". It was a bar, or an equivalent. The place was run by an alien named Yzheti. Samus had run into him numerous times early in her career. He was an informant for several agencies and businesses interested in the going-ons of a resource rich planet. He stood behind an elongated metal table, with a shelf of metal flasks and glass bottles behind him. The alien was humanoid enough, bipedal with two arms, two eyes, all the right features. What set him apart from most humans was his bright pink skin and keratin deposits all along his skin. They looked like horns.

Yzheti was serving a guest when Samus walked in and didn't notice her. The flickering light produced by the broken fixtures gave the room a dingy atmosphere. Something Samus was certain he did on purpose. As she walked up to the bar, the guest Yzheti was serving turned around and leaned onto the table. He was a big man. Human, just an inch over Samus' height, and burly. The man's eyes and nose were tinted red, and his speech was slurred out.

"Haven't seen you here before."

Samus ignored the man and placed her hand on the table. Yzheti stare her down and grabbed a flask off the table, handing it to her. Samus took the flask and inspected it for a moment before downing the entire thing.

"Bastard," she spat under her breath and placed the flask on the table. "Haven't seen each other in years and you give me the cheap stuff?"

The pink alien gave a throaty laugh and slammed his hands onto the table. "Don't drink the pure stuff?"

Samus grimaced. "I don't drink piss, either." She slid the flask over to him and leaned onto the table. "I'm not here for drinks." Yzheti's demeanor changed at this and he leaned in.

"Too bad, I could use the small fortune," he whispered with a toothy grin. "So what do you need?"

"A ship."

"A ship? Aye, that I can do."

"Reconnaissance ready?"

"Stealth features, high-class artillery, probably illegal in several sectors. The usual."

Samus smiled and threw her head back. Things were falling into place.

"Just go out to the port. They're holding a bit of an auction. I'll send them word that a wealthy buyer is heading out. You'll get your ship."

Samus nodded along. In the corner of her vision, she saw a hand reaching for her. Before it could land anywhere, she had already caught it. The burly man seemed surprised by the forceful grasp and let out a yelp before Samus let go. He grabbed his hand and backed away, and Samus diverted her attention back to the bartender.

"Touchy," he remarked.

"That was his problem." She turned away from the bar and headed for the exit, waving off Yzheti. "Put that flask on my credit. You know the account." And she was off.

Back at the port, the crowd had not dispersed. A ship had just been sold, and the customer was piloting it off from the pedestal as a new ship was brought it. This was it. A blue and black Hunter-Class gunship. The design was sleek and ovular, a rounded windshield with small propulsion jets lining the underside so it hovered off the ground. Samus pierced the crowd, standing head and shoulders above most of the individuals within as they all eyed the craft. One individual, a thin insectoid alien, stood by the ship with a small device hanging by its mandibles. It spoke an alien language into the device and it transmitted into the Federation's official language: human English.

"We have a beautiful ship here! A Hunter-Class gunship! Not only are its weapon systems top of the line, including missile targeting systems and laser-guided plasma cannon, but it also has state-of-the-art stealth shielding! Brought to you by our good friends, the Kriken empire." The crowd grew into a raucous echo of boos and hisses at their mention. The alien seemed to feed off this anger and only grew more energized as it spoke. "Built by the best salvagers and engineers outside of Federation space – and outside of their taxes, too – there's nothing this ship can't do. It'll keep you safe wherever you want to go, and it will get you there fast!" It pointed to the ship, and the crowd cheered. Numerous people shouted offers ranging from paltry to exorbitant.

"Let's start the bidding at-" The alien paused with dramatic flair. "-500,000 credits! Do we have any takers?"

The crowd grew silent. Murmurs between patrons seemed confused by the price. Samus understood it well and raised her hand. The alien pointed at her and said into his device, "I hear 500,000 credits! Will anyone raise her? 600,000? Do we have any takers for 600,000? Going once." No one said anything. "Going twice." Absolute silence. The crowd's attention focused on Samus and she tensed. Any hint that the auction was manipulated would throw the crowd into chaos and violence. "And sold to the lovely human over there!"

The crowd roared with excitement. Samus began walking towards the landing platform when a voice called out from outside the crowd.

"Rigged!" the voice called out. "The whole thing!"

Samus turned and saw standing ten meters away the man from the bar, waving his hands angrily as he stumbled his way towards the crowd.

"I heard them in the bar talking about it. The whole thing! Make the price too high for anyone to pay, give 'em a discount when they actually pay, I know the score!"

Samus bit her lower lip as the man raved. He was a drunk, but if his words were taken with any degree of seriousness this spelt trouble. Looking into the crowd, there seemed to be a mixed reception. Not knowing the colony well enough to gauge what their reaction would be, Samus made this quick and bolted towards the platform. With a quick hop, she was atop the ship. The crowd was too stunned to respond, and Samus was too far out of their reach for her to be in any danger. The drunk man pushed his way through the crowd and waved his hand.

"She broke my hand!"

It appeared swollen, but Samus was certain she hadn't used enough force to break any bones. The crowd was turning sour. Her sudden movements and his hand may have had a sinister appearance. As long as she had her ship, however, there was no reason for her to worry.

The auction host continued to control the crowd as Samus descended into the ship's cockpit through the topside hatch. She could see the rumble as patrons questioned the auctioneer, but she was already activating the holographic interface. This was her comfort zone, and as she navigated the menu and activated the thrusters, she felt the steady vibrations roll through the ship. These thrusters were Class-A, quiet and powerful. She smirked and with a flick of her wrist activated the main thrusters. Her new ship flew and the throng of people grew smaller as her ship left the port.

The ship's stealth mode, Samus learned, was as high-tech as they claimed. Using reverse-engineered Kriken technology, the ship could bend light around itself. It was not a perfect design, as the light bent around the ship gave a telltale shimmer upon closer inspection, but combined with a low-heat signature it made the ship nigh undetectable to most technologies. She put in coordinates for FS-176 and entered hyperspace. The ship estimated time of arrival was fifteen minutes. Enough time to calibrate the weapons systems and her power armor. She would be prepared.

The calibrations were completed with two minutes to spare, and when her ship exited hyperspace, she was met with the familiar solar system of FS-176. The Chozo affectionately called this star, "Teth Mahdra", translating roughly to "Life Giver". It was a yellow dwarf, surrounded by four planets. From her ship, the distant Oormine II was visible as a blue speck.

Being here for the first time since her mission to Zebes, Samus felt a ping of nostalgia. She tilted her head to the side and thought of the open skies of her adoptive home. Nostalgia, followed by pained memories of the Space Pirate invasions. Samus distracted herself by reading the ship's navigation controls. Her course was set to the last known coordinates of the GFS Aegir. She couldn't be distracted now, she was on a mission. She steadied herself and concentrated, activating her power suit with a thought as she piloted her way closer to the star.

Something was wrong.

Something was incredibly wrong.

The holographic interface glowed red and an alert message popped up on her suit's HUD.

"COURSE CORRECTION REQUIRED IMMEDIATELY!"

Samus scanned the ship's interface to find the error. She had flown countless ships and charted numerous courses. She had the coordinates of the GFS Aegir's last known position. What was dangerous about this course?

The next words to pop up on her HUD were ominous and brief.

"ERROR: UNIDENTIFIED VARIABLE."

Followed by a direct confirmation.

"ERROR: GRAVITATIONAL PULL GREATER THAN EXPECTED."

Something was pulling on her ship. Samus rerouted power from the ship's stealth and weapons to its scanning features. Radars, heat detection, everything that was available. Then her ship rocked. She barely had time to gather her bearings as she clutched her seat. Something had hit her ship.

"SECONDARY THRUSTER OFFLINE."

Samus cursed and rerouted power back to her weapons as she spun the ship around. A stream of plasma blasts flew through space towards her ship. With minimal time to maneuver, Samus spun her ship in a corkscrew and fired her plasma cannons. Though she couldn't see her target, they'd given their general position away by attacking her.

She poured power into the main thrusters and followed her plasma blast, closing the distance between herself and whoever was attacking. Radar wasn't picking anything up. Neither was thermal.

Another plasma blast rocked her ship, and Samus growled in anger as warnings flashed across her visor. The ship's shielding was weakened. It had taken a direct hit, and it likely wouldn't survive another. Thirty-seven, sixteen, nineteen. Samus read the approximate coordinates of the attack on her HUD. With the ship turning towards it, she fired another bolt of plasma.

Dog-fighting in space was not Samus' forte, it was an awkward and impractical affair that favored powerful, militarized ships and higher technology. Whoever her opponent was, they had the edge.

The second shot careened in the distance, its bright light giving a distinctive glint on her radar at around 800 kilometers. Samus fired again, adjusting her shot for that glint, then fired several more times in that area. Most of the shots faded into black, but one landed. The shimmering outline of a corvette-sized ship became visible on her radar. Samus locked onto the target and closed the gap between them. As the enemy's ship became visible to her field of view, she noticed that it was not returning fire.

It floated in space, unmoving. It gave Samus time to study its design. Black and pointed, with purple and golden trims along the sides. It was wide, with an aquiline snout at its front. The design was familiar. Samus got a clear view of the ship, and her eyes widened as the thought settled into her mind. Before she could react to it, the enemy ship pulled back, beckoning her to follow. Samus did, only realizing too late that it had trapped her.

More ships appeared from space as if ghosts. Behind her, above her, below her, and to all sides. Plasma built at the nose of each. There were several dozen, all aimed at her. She couldn't dodge them all. The only way out was through.

She activated the ship's missile launcher and aimed for the ship in front of her. Its shielding would be weakest. Then she rerouted power from the plasma cannon to her main thruster. Her ship was about to be put through hell.

She activated the missile launcher and they poured from the underbelly of her vessel. Dozens, each aimed for a single target. She pursued the missiles, redirecting any energy spared from the missile systems to her thrusters.

"WARNING: SHIELDING IS CRITICAL."

Her shields were almost gone. The missiles had hit their target, blowing the enemy to chunks of meat and metal in a soundless explosion that reverberated through her ship. Through the flames of combusting fuel gel and shrapnel, she forced herself to fly, followed by streams of plasma in all directions. She rolled her ship to avoid what damage she could, but found most of the plasma had arced away from her ship.

"UNIDENTIFIED VARIABLE."

"Not again!" Samus screamed, slamming her fist into the chair's arm. Her ship was veering off course. Stars bent around her ship and outside the windshield Samus could see that shimmer once more. It was everywhere. Her entire field of view became a kaleidoscope of varying degrees of light, molding and shifting around her. Soon the light settled into a gray-black gradient as ashen clouds in the distance pushed against the sky. The planet beneath her unsheathed itself, and Samus could think of nothing. She had not prepared for this.

She was crashing onto Zebes.