It has been said more than once that some of my disclaimers appear arrogant and contemptuous. This may be a futile effort, but please allow me to assure you this is not my intent. The only reason I write author's notes is to pass along something I thought was important to a theoretical reader; if in the process I appear arrogant (or, perhaps,act arrogant), I apologize.
That aside, this disclaimer covers a few things that I consider important but nothing that is critical to understanding. Before I go further, I'll state this once: I appreciate any feedback, even if it contains no real information, because it is my only way of knowing if the story is being read.
Foremost, I wrote this story without any specific game in the Metroid series in mind (though perhaps the first, if any). I am not an expert on these games, nor am I familiar with the extended plot. For example, the Chozo do not exist, Ridley does not exist and the Space Pirates play only a minor role. What I wanted to do is work with the characters and basic universe of the games. It could then be called an alternate universe fan fiction.
While I have made an effort to make things generally biologically or technologically probable, please keep in mind suspension of disbelief. I have not studied any of these fields and I'm trying to write an interesting story, not a research paper. That having been said, if something is ridiculously off feel free to tell me.
The rating is liable to change at any given time, as the content of the story varies greatly depending on the subject matter in a given context. There is battling, which varies from harmlessly stylized to physiologically realistic gore, some language as is practical given circumstances (edited for the first half, unedited in the second; this leads to broken words in the firs tportion), and what I suppose would be called "adult themes" (working long hours, paying taxes, going to meetings, etc).
I've taken enough of your time, and this tangent has run its course. To the story.
Basis of Humanity
Chapter 1: The End of the Matter
The glass tube shattered into thousands of shards, each of which went flying across the room, creating a rain of glass. They fell to the floor, crashing into smaller pieces. All the blue liquid that had been stored within the tube gushed out, spilling on the floor. Still the room remained dark; no other being disturbing it.
No being other than the one that had floated within the glass tube. Now it was out, collapsed on the ground amid the glass splinters. Slowly it got to its feet, painfully, as if the effort was the most it could manage. Just as slowly, the being raised its hands to its face, and found itself looking at claws.
"What am I?" it asked, voice breaking as if it had been in long disuse. "What am I?"
Dr. Rutger veritably marched along the spotlessly white corridor. As always, he walked at a fast clip, his immaculate white lab coat trailing behind him. His shoes, shone until they reflected the light, clicked rhythmically on the steel floor.
One did not attain the position of Chief Scientist easily, not by any means. To secure his status, Dr. Rutger had been forced to go to great lengths. Of course, graduating with four Intergalactic Doctorates of Philosophy helped, but it hadn't been enough. As had everyone on this project, he had pulled strings to get onto the station. Even murder had not been out of the question if something came between him and his goals. Not that he had killed someone, no, never that; he had some dignity. That was what assassins and bounty hunters were for.
There was no scientific project possessing greater prestige than Project Darklight. Even the very knowledge of its existence signified you were one of the elite. Only a percentage of these privileged few were granted the right to work on it. Hidden throughout the galaxy were three space stations designed solely for work on the project; they were Stations Sapphire, Ruby and Emerald. It was a well known fact, among the elite, that Station Sapphire was the most prestigious of the three.
This station. A slight smile crept onto Dr. Rutger's face at the fact. He was the Chief Scientist of the Station Sapphire branch of Project Darklight, making him the most important scientist in the universe. True, their financiers were technically over him, but what have men of science ever cared for political power?
An aide sat slouched at a computer terminal, gazing at the streams of data that continued to flow past his computer screen in a rapid rate. His partner in the chair beside him was snoring softly. Dr. Rutger's eyes narrowed instantly.Undoubtedly, both men would have been considered merely eccentric geniuses in most of the galaxy. Not at Project Darklight.
"You there!" he snapped, directly behind the sleeping aide. He started in his chair, immediately moving to look as though he was carefully considering the data streams. Too late. "You may have been able to get away sleeping on the job in grade school," Dr. Rutger sneered, "but not here."
"Please, sir," the aide gasped, "don't make me leave. Anything but that! This is my passion! I love this work! I couldn't possibly do anything else, you can't make me leave my one true goal in life!"
"You are stripped of your position, and you will leave this station at once under escort," Dr. Rutger went on coldly. "If found on the premises after 18:00 you will be considered an intruder and terminated as such."
"No! Anything but that! I have a wife and kids at home, sir, I need this job to support them!"
"A likely story." Dr. Rutger paused, staring the delinquent worker in the eyes. "And even if it were so, I wouldn't care."
"Please!" The man leapt to his feet, gripping Dr. Rutger's lab coat in his hands.
"Remove your hands before I call security," Dr. Rutger responded icily. The man sank back, then collapsed sobbing into his chair. Immediately the doctor's gaze swept to the other man, who had been glanced at them nervously the entire confrontation. "And you- if I ever see you slouching on the job again, the same will happen to you."
"Yes, sir!"
Turning on his heel, Dr. Rutger marched down the hallway, shoes clicking just as precisely as before. That had been necessary, but it had cost him time. Time was the most precious of commodities. As he passed, the scientist officiously straightened the name tag of another worker. Sloppy hygiene could not be permitted.
Rounding a corner, Dr. Rutger found himself at the entrance of the biochemical lab. The door's security system scanned his body, retina and DNA for a moment before opening with a faint hiss of hydraulics. Instantly a blast of cold air swept from the door as the frigid temperatures flooded out. Ignoring it, Dr. Rutger stalked in; the door closed behind him instantly.
His presence made everyone straighten, work more industriously. On the far side of the room, a white haired man also in a lab coat was studying a clipboard. Hearing Dr. Rutger's entrance, he nodded. Scribbling a few things on the clipboard, the doctor gave it to an aide with a few words of instruction, then made a beeline for Dr. Rutger.
Sighing, the Chief Scientist slowed his walk. There was no point trying to escape the room; he would undoubtedly be tracked down. He only needed to walk through the biochemical lab, but it appeared he would be waylaid yet again. Dr. Walters could be a frightfully stubborn being when he put his mind to it. The man was a brilliant scientist, but was also incredibly annoying.
"There you are," Dr. Walters said as he came into range. As if he had just seen him, and was annoyed at the interruption, Dr. Rutger glanced in his direction. Dr. Walters was one of the few scientists on the project in the highest level of genius. Unfortunately, the two doctors disagreed on many issues, eliminating any amount of synergy they might have had.
"What is it?" Dr. Rutger asked briskly.
"I can't approve these most recent developments, sir."
"What developments?"
"The DXDV deoxyribonucleic acid strand being used in the research department. It simply can't be allowed to contin-"
"And what," Dr. Rutger interrupted, putting a slight amount of menace into his voice to indicate his disapproval, "is wrong with that DNA strand?"
"If you don't mind, doctor, I was going to explain it to you." Dr. Walters shoved a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I've seen DXDV strings before. I was the Chief Scientist of Station Ruby, I would remind you."
Of course he would remind him. Dr. Rutger gritted his teeth at this old wound being reopened.
"You gave up your rights as Chief Scientist when you left Station Ruby to work here. Do not bring it up again."
"And do you know why I left? Do you?" Dr. Walters demanded. "I thought not. I had my reasons, Jason, trust me. But they used the DXDV string there, and it was a disaster."
"All our reports have shown that it will merely increase the subject's strength and agility. It is the perfect addiction."
"Well, sure, it does that. It also makes them insane!"
"Very well, Marcus," Dr. Rutger responded, taking care to use his first name as well. "Your opinion has been logged, and the board will review it."
"Fine."
"If you'll excuse me, I'm a very busy man." Putting on another burst of speed, Dr. Rutger stalked from the biochemical lab. Now, hopefully, there would be no more distractions. Immediately adjacent to the biochemical lab, and taking advantage of its low temperature, was the storage room. All the subjects and specimens were kept here, under freezing conditions. It was here that Dr. Rutger had been heading this entire time.
"Um, excuse me, sir?" a voice tentatively stated. Whirling, eyes flashing, Dr. Rutger glared at the startled aide.
"What is it?"
"There's some... uh, rather important news, sir."
"Well? Spit it out!"
"Station Ruby was destroyed, sir."
"What?" Dr. Rutger exploded. Destroyed? How? How could such a thing happen?
"There had been no response from the station for several weeks, sir, and a team was sent to investigate it. They found nothing but a bit of rubble where the station had been. No one really knows the cause or any of the details surrounding it."
"I see." Narrowing his eyes, Dr. Rutger gave the matter some deep thought. Such a thing needed to be deeply considered indeed. Waving aside the aide, the Chief Scientist walked on, into the main storage area. Hundreds of specimens lay unmoving in large vats of green liquid, but the doctor had no eye for them, having seen them countless times.
The precise clicking of the doctor's heels stopped abruptly as he came into sight of the tube at the far end of the hall. He had come here for the sole purpose of checking up on how this subject was doing. It had been a delicate operation, with the subject's vital signs frequently dropping dangerously low. Any time he checked on it, he was prepared for most possibilities.
But not the complete absence of a specimen. The tube was unbroken, the green liquid sitting undisturbed. And there was nothing inside it. Instantly Dr. Rutger tensed, glancing about the lab. What could have happened? Was it possible that someone moved the subject without his knowledge? Ridiculous; they could not do anything without his approval.
Where were the scientists in charge of this storage center? Why had they allowed this to happen. Fury building up inside him, Dr. Rutger stormed to the far wall of the large room, where the idiots who had allowed this to happen would be.
His rage vanished in an instant as his gaze turned to the sight before him. The scientists were lying on the floor in pools of their own blood. Dr. Rutger had only time to gape for a few instants, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps, before a claw sliced into him from behind. Before the doctor hit the floor, he was dead.
Only a herald of what was to come.
Leaning back in her chair, Samus Aran sighed heavily. As always, the bounty hunter was wearing her complete bio suit. She had hoped to have even a few days free for a bit of rest and relaxation, but it seemed that it was not to be. No sooner had she stepped off her own ship from another successful operation than she had been accosted by agents of the Galactic Council. They needed her for another job again. When did they ever associate with her except when they needed work done?
There were many worse jobs, true. Had it been one of those, she would have refused it. But the Galactic Council paid well, and there was a vague feeling that in doing their work she was helping out the galaxy. At least in some small way Samus liked that feeling.
Besides, in the past, all their operations had been serious. Several times she had been called upon to eliminate serious problems, most recently the Metroid issue. That wasn't anything Samus wanted to remember, and she quickly moved away from that line of thought. Just to make sure, she checked that the computer's navigation system was steering her aright, then sat back in her chair again.
Tapping her fingers together, the feared bounty hunter considered her situation. After her last job, she still had more than enough money to get her by. Though Samus was undoubtedly one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy, the job surprisingly didn't create that high of living standards. While every mission she took yielded a high amount of money, her gross income was offset by ship repairs (which seemed all too common), equipment upgrades and general living expenses. More times than she cared to remember, Samus had found herself short on money. So it really wasn't all that lucrative of a position.
Laughing softly at herself, Samus considered what she sounded like. So what did she do the job for, then, the joy of working? Why yes, I do enjoy running around and killing things! It takes a real devotion to the art! Sadly, such was almost true. Plus, as a bounty hunter, it was socially permissible to be independent, regardless of gender. And there was something great about being able to put an energy weapon in someone's face when they annoyed you.
Am I really that bad? Surely, there were worse bounty hunters, who'd slit their own mother's throats if they thought they could get money out of it. Then there were the bounty hunters who had already done so. And probably some that didn't have mothers, one way or another. But regardless, Samus liked to think of herself as an efficient agent, not a criminal slightly on the right side of the law. She was merely good at what she did, and in this industry that meant she was very dangerous.
One of the lights in her computer console blinked, Samus glanced down at it closer. There was a message, coming from the Galactic Council Station ahead. They must have been in a hurry, if they didn't even let her land before contacting her. Flipping a switch on the control panel, Samus nodded to the official as he appeared on screen.
"Samus Aran. We're glad you could make it."
"Why did you need me so urgently?" She hated these political types. So many words to say so little. While Samus tended to be terse in speech anyway, she became even more so when she had to work with politicians.
"The situation is an urgent one, and of quite dire need. We do not believe it will take that long, but we want only the best working for us."
"But what is it?"
"A research station of ours has apparently been lost. There was a transmission coming from it as the connection was snapped, so we have only partial information. What we have been able to determine was that something has attacked the station, and did so quite suddenly. In any case, they were destroyed or eliminated before they could make a distress call."
"We don't know what this 'something' is?"
"Not at all, I'm afraid. It could be alien in nature, or possible just a pirate attack. There has been heavy marauder action in that quadrant lately, and we believe that may be the cause."
"Aren't all Galactic Stations equipped with defensive systems? Shouldn't those systems have defended them long enough for any attack to be detected?" Samus asked, eyes narrowing.
"Look," the politician threw up his hands, "I don't know what's going on. No one has any idea. What we want you to do is escort a team of our scientists to the station. If you protect them and deal with any dangers on the station, we'll consider the job done. We'll provide you with another ship for navigating the asteroid field surrounding the station."
"It's in an asteroid field?" Samus raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I really don't know that either. This is all handled by the science types. Listen, we're willing to pay you 30,000 for this job, if you get it done quickly."
Samus resisted the urge to whistle and merely nodded. That was a lot, even more than they had paid her for some simpler jobs. Why would they care so much about this research station? "Fine. Why was I contacted now and not when I reached the station?"
"Time is of the essence. The scientists' ship is already prepared, and we have your new ship primed alongside it. As soon as you arrive, you can leave. As I have said, this is a very urgent issue. If we can help them, we want to help. If not, we need to get information as quickly as possible."
"Very well. End transmission." As the image before her vanished, replaced by the endless expanse of stars, Samus closed her eyes. Something about this job felt odd. Then again, a lot of Galactic Council jobs were odd: if they needed to hire a bounty hunter, it was most likely for a task far outside the ordinary.
As she neared the station, Samus quickly entered her docking codes and prepared the ship for connecting to the station itself. Rising from her seat, Samus tapped the side of her helmet, sliding the visor down over her face. Instantly the glass lit up with assorted readings and data. Ignoring these things, Samus checked that the energy cannons on both arms were working, and that all systems were at full. They were, as always.
The ship jolted slightly as it made contact with the station, but Samus was used to such movement. As the door into the station opened, Samus was already striding from it, vanishing into the corridors.