Wherein Samus discovers Falcon had played a game called Metroids and rages afterward. [narration]
For once, Samus had a fairly enjoyable birthday. She still disliked the date; every year reminded her more and more of her own mortality. She even further disliked it when someone other than herself knew of the date, expecting something traumatic, horrible, or otherwise embarrassing to come from that knowledge. So Samus was less than thrilled when she discovered Ionia had in her childish excitement all but publicly announced Grandma Aran's birthday all over the network. However, the day proved that while yes it was still slightly really kind of terribly embarrassing--surprise party and all--nothing horrible had happened. OR DID IT.
There was even a video transmission from Falcon waiting for her in the gunship that evening. He was alive. Questionably well from the looks of the injuries, but alive. She had missed hearing his voice more than she wanted to admit. Listening to that and going to bed after draining a small bottle of her favorite vodka she had been squirreling away ended her thirty-fifth birthday on a fairly enjoyable, [read: less broody than usual] note.
Slightly more than fairly enjoyable, actually. Good, even.
Not all good things in her life tend to last, however...
--------------------
It was a little over a week later after her birthday, sometime in the afternoon on one of her days off that Samus would receive a transmission in her gunship. She almost hadn't heard the warning beep, as absorbed into her research as she was [which currently varied from how transformations and Pokemon heart-swapping powers worked to local hole-in-the-wall diners... she was getting kind of hungry]. She lifted her head to her ship announcing, "...INCOMING ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION..."
"...?" Samus' thoughts immediately jumped to Falcon and accepted the transmission.
"Samus." It wasn't Falcon... "It's been a while." It was her mysterious, anonymous contact.
Samus was immediately disappointed and immediately set on guard. "...About a month." She finally answered, coldly. "A month with no pay for a dead-end job. I'm very unhappy. I will assume you can make an educated guess what happens when I'm unpaid and unhappy."
"...I suppose it would be in bad taste to give you a belated birthday present in the form of credits, then. All
218000 of it."
"You have three seconds to tell me who you are or I'm going to hunt you down and take my credits. All
218000 of it," She growled, "And then some."
"That is actually the other reason why I wanted to contact you. You may of hunted down Frank and eliminated his illegal fighting ring but..."
"...But there were no pirates involved." She continued, well aware her question had been dodged and growing more vexed with this mysterious contact by the second. The data she had extracted off of Frank's computer yielded nothing useful. Just more bank account trails leading to no-name nobodies. At least as far as she could tell.
"There were, but probably not in the way you are thinking. Especially since I'm positive this wasn't your handiwork..." To explain, several short news clips and articles followed in the transmission. Just brief enough to get the point across--A little over two weeks ago, a Zebesian Space Pirate ship had been attacked and pillaged somewhere within Gaflar System. Fuel Gel was possibly taken, but the weapons found on board had been handed over to the Galactic Federation by an anonymous vigilante. The level of destruction was on par with Samus Aran's handiwork, but when it directly involved Space Pirates... anonymous was something she never hid behind.
Her face fell. "...That's..." In pieces or not, Samus would recognize that style of ship anywhere.
"A Space Pirate Frigate." Her contact sounded almost disappointed. "You're missing all the action, lady."
That stung somehow. She knew she wasn't the only bounty hunter in the universe to go after Space Pirate heads but she had effectively spent the past two decades of her life hunting them--base by base, pirate by pirate--dwindling their entire population down significantly. Her efforts alone had forced them into being even more elusive and dangerous. They were her specialty, after all. Whomever did this must of looked really fucking hard for them, and Samus of course wanted to know more.
"...Who?"
Which was exactly what her contact had been hoping for. "Why don't we meet up? Symka 5, 1800 hours. We can discuss more there."
Symka 5 was a small, neutral space station that rested between the Gaflar System and the outskirts of Federation controlled territory. Nothing but a large, shady space bar floating in the middle of a dull red nebula. Meeting with an anonymous contact was always risky but Samus did risky well, and she would never know by not going. "...Fine. Bring my overdue pay with you." She warned, "Don't be late."
She ended the transmission, then flopped back in the cockpit chair and stared at her ship's ceiling for a good while.
--------------------
At precisely 1800 hours, Samus docked in Symka 5 and made her way to one of the lower levels of the station where the alcohol was served as thick as the atmosphere. Smoke hung in the air along with TV monitors playing news and sports broadcasts, while shady mercenary looking types of various alien species gathered and chattered around the bar comfortably below. The lights were dim, and there was an even dimmer light on an empty back corner booth which she claimed for herself.
Samus ordered a beer and waited. Listening. Thinking.
She used to frequent all these dark-corner, hazy bar locations before crash landing into Smash Academy's backdoor; listening for tips and following the grapevine to good bounties, and she could effectively hide in plain sight without the Power Suit on as she did so. It was something on her mind rather frequently... what was she still doing there, at a school, of all places? Why wasn't she in space doing what she did best? Why wasn't she blowing up Space Pirate Frigates? Instead she was at some school teaching classes, or going after dead-end jobs and the notion was sometimes just so absurd... Then again the school proved time and time again to be just as crazy as some of her missions out in space. Not to mention the people in it... But even after that mission with Kerrigan, this was proof enough she was still missing the action. Samus still missed the action.
These thoughts would only be amplified as she realized she had been sitting alone with them for the past half an hour. Her contact was no where to be seen. Probably bailed on her. How predictable.
With a growl she finished off her bottle and less than gently returned it to the table, an audible clink as the glass hit the wooden table top. She was about ready to go violently take her frustrations out on the next Jack Levin look-a-like who gave her so much as a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Samus would not get very far out of her seat when she realized the sound of her bottle had an unusual echo to it. The action had caused something to fall by her feet with a similar clink.
"...?" What she retrieved from the floor was a small digital drive; no bigger than a matchbook. Someone had taped it under the table? How sneaky. With caution and curiosity, she inspected the device and quickly discovered it had one audio recording saved on it... along with
200000000 credits.
When she pressed play, it became clear this was meant for her drr drr drr to find. "I apologize I couldn't be here in person, Samus. I think we got off on the wrong foot. Consider this payment with interest. As far as that Space Pirate Frigate, just follow your ears and I'm sure it will all make sense. Good luck."
Samus sat there and stared at the device for a good while, astounded. She did not particularly like cat and mouse games, especially when she didn't even have a name of whom this mysterious contact was. Friend? Foe? She had no idea and she hated that. She ordered another beer and started to carefully dismantle the device. So far, no tracking devices. Good. Once she deemed it harmless, she decided there was nothing to loose by simply listening. Collectively, the bar's voice sounded like a clutter of unimportant words, snippets of conversations, blurbs of staticy news reports, or useless strings of gossip... but to Samus...
"still being looked into... " "Weapons. Yeah." "No idea."
"The Federation..."
"The Feds," "hunters" "Easily fifty kilos, give or take."
"No, Zebesian..." "Giant space turtle? You shittin' me?"
"Two weeks ago..." "...anonymous..."
"Samus' ghost, huh?"
"Those couldn't be the coordinates, don't be so stupid." "Pathetic Federation dogs!"
Samus sat there and let it all sink in, filtering out information and comparing it with the news reports she had seen, swirling the last remains of her drink around under her hand, watching the TVs. When another quick news blurb about the two-week old incident popped on, it became clear where she should head next to solve this mystery. It just happened to be a place she had been trying to avoid more and more over the years... but she needed to know now.
The Galactic Federation...
-----------------------------
"Where are my status reports? I want my status reports!" A large, gruff man in a medal-adorned, wrinkle-free uniform barked orders to his fleet from the bridge of his ship. His voice was firm, commanding and spoken with a slight southern drawl. "This ship doesn't run itself." Not to mention spoken with slight exasperation.
It didn't taken Samus long to find the G.F.S Olympus and it's slightly exasperated Captain on board. She was permitted entry almost with no question.
"Dane." Fleet Admiral Castor Dane, to be precise. The G.F.S Olympus was his ship, and in her opinion, should have been retired years ago. It's seen service for almost as long as she's been alive. Above all, Dane and the Olympus were still stationed just outside of Norion, prime Federation territory. She really did not want to come back here and she had no intentions of staying very long; just long enough to get her answers and then slip back into the shadows from which she came.
"Well if it isn't Samus Aran." Dane greeted once he was aware of the Power Suit clad bounty hunter on board. He stuffed his hands behind his back, chest out, posture impeccable and nodded as she approached. "How many years has it been? Nine? Ten?" He questioned incredulously as he walked around her, inspecting her, as if she were thought to be extinct this entire time and suddenly standing right before his very eyes.
It only served to test her already thin patience. "I'm not here for a reunion."
Dane almost hadn't heard her, still too astounded the infamous Samus Aran would show up on his ship after all these years. "You run off and disappear without a word for years at a time, and just when things start--"
She cut him off, "Two weeks ago, a Space Pirate frigate was attacked somewhere in the Gaflar System."
Dane avoided her gaze for a moment. "...I figured that wasn't you." He finally said. That in itself explained her reasons for being here.
"Give me the coordinates."
"You aren't gonna' find jack out there, Samus. We cleaned everything out."
She didn't need to say anything for Dane to know she wasn't going to leave empty handed.
"Hmph." He grunted a laugh and shook his head. "But that's never stopped you before, has it?" He beckoned the closest officer over. "Give the lady what she's askin' for. Come on, chop chop."
"This way, Samus. We have the message saved." Said said officer as he pulled it up on a nearby computer. Samus held a finger to her helmet, recording the message and the information contained within it as it played.
"If this is the Galactic Federation..." Samus could tell whomever sent it was masking their voice. It was to be expected from an anonymous vigilante.
The voice paused, as if they had not thought terribly hard about what to say before pressing record. "It's not important who I am, only that I have intercepted and destroyed a space pirate frigate carrying an illegal cargo, which has been salvaged. I am sending an itemized list of the weaponry I found on board. I am also sending two sets of coordinates. The first is the location where you will find the remains of the frigate, should you doubt the validity of this transmission. The second is where I have stowed the cargo to pick up and use at your discretion."
Samus frowned, not that it could be seen by anyone under her helmet. "No payment is necessary." The message ended.
"...Where is the cargo?" Samus asked.
"What we didn't destroy is safe in quarantine." Dane answered, as a matter of fact, a little too proud of a smirk crawling on his features that urged a sneer out of Samus. She turned her attention back to the officer at the computer.
"What else?"
"We have some of these photos taken of the wreckage, and these news reports..." They were pulled up simultaneously on several monitors. Some she had seen before, some she hadn't. Samus watched them all and focused in on a long-distance, shaky-cam style video a surveyor droid had miraculously captured of the Frigate actually exploding. "That." Samus requested, "Zoom in."
As best as the low-quality of the images would allow, Samus managed to spot something streaking straight out from behind the explosion. Something that looked like an outline of a ship.
...a... dreadfully familiar looking ship.
...No...
Samus abruptly shoved the officer out of his chair and frantically poured over the rest of the clips to find more evidence supporting what she thought she saw. The thought hadn't crossed her mind at all and now that it had, she was surprised it never did. Falcon's absence matched the time frame, his injuries from the video transmission on her birthday looked roughly one week old...
Why would he...
There it was. "Samus...? What are you looking at?" The Falcon Flyer. The officer squinted at the monitors, unable to identify the pixlated space dong blob that she was able to. If she didn't say anything and they hadn't noticed by now, they probably never would.
Her hand clenched into an iron fist, and she turned to leave. She wanted to deny it. She tried to deny it. Trying to deny it only made her more furious, a million questions clashing with emotions, feeling it was constrict her chest more with every step she took closer to the exit.
"Samus, wait." She paused, but Dane would only have the pleasure of seeing her back.
"...I suppose it wouldn't kill you to come visit more than once every decade." The implications within that statement were numerous and Samus said nothing in response.
It probably would.
-----------------------------
Back at the scene of the crime, Dane was right. The Federation had done well with their two weeks and cleaned out the debris and sectioned off the area. A few small Federation ships patrolled around what little remained of the Space Pirate frigate, though none of them even attempted to stop Samus after they saw her ship cruise right past their security brigs. She only answered their hailing frequencies with a curt, "It's Samus." for an explanation. No other explanation was needed, really.
Perhaps she was hoping for some obvious sign, some sort of confirmation it wasn't him, but the longer she spent here grazing over the wreckage did it become the more obvious that it was him. More questions arose, and pieces slowly started to fall in place. Samus left Gaflar and hyperspaced to the most abandoned asteroid field she could think of, far far away. For many asteroids were not going to survive this encounter with her slowly growing rage.
Why...?
Sure, she could understand the call for good bounty but Space Pirates? Falcon had never before, to her knowledge, ever expressed any interest in offing any of the bastards... at least not without her knowing or being present for the bloodbath. Even then, he didn't ask to be paid, and why even bother to send the message to the Federation at all...? He liked them probably about as much as she did. Going after someone else's bounty in the world of mercenaries and hunters was asking for a world of trouble--it was an unspoken rule, an unspoken guideline. It was something you just didn't do.
Why go through all that trouble? She thought as she floated in the dead of space outside of her ship, shooting at chunks of rock as she tried to figure it out unsuccessfully.
...To get my attention. Punching, kicking rocks. He's still a bounty hunter. He's making a fool out of you.
But why? Grapple beaming them into other rocks. He didn't do it for the money, and got hurt...
He did this on purpose. And had the nerve to send that transmission after the fact. On my God damn birthday. Violently burning holes in the rocks with her plasma beam, smashing them to bits with her hands. What was he thinking...?
Screaming at nothing when she realized he was still out there. For all she knew he was going from one Pirate base to the next, laughing it up and leaving nothing left. Not because Space Pirates had killed his parents and utterly destroyed his childhood... Not because he was offered a large amount of cash to take out a frigate when miss mysterious Samus Aran couldn't be reached... Not because he was doing it out of some chivalrous nobility for her because they had made her life hell...
Because he was a competitive dick. If that wasn't the case he would have surely said something... right?
That was the best answer she could come up with for now and it was incredibly unsatisfying. Samus fought off a nearly overwhelming predatory urge to go hunt him down this very moment and get a better answer. ...But space was so vast, and Samus knew there was one place she would certainly find him.
He'd come back to the school eventually. She would get her answer then.
[TL;DR version: Samus finally discovered Falcon's shenanigans in which he blew up a Space Pirate base and she is none too happy about it. Ever since Sunday [the 6th] she's been HIDING HER RAGE WELL. However, you may or may not of noticed Miss Aran being slightly more quiet/grumptacular/impatient than usual over the week. Attempts at conversation are probably met with only one or two word replies, and she has been extra reclusive. Probably to such an extent that she requested a substitute teacher to take over for her classes. If anyone has been paying extra close attention, she has been slowly and discreetly moving a few boxes out of her dorm every now and then late at night. HMMMM.
Edit: Samus has definitely acquired an extra level in Ice Queen after Monday, the 14th.]