Escape From Coruscant

[Samus Aran]

Samus didn’t remember arriving through the gate.

She does remember the flame and shrapnel, hurting all over, and looking back through the gate to see the wreckage of her crashed ship.

“Adam!” she screamed, running towards the wreckage on the other side of the gate. Stepping through, she plunged her hands into the flaming wreckage, pulling despite the sharp pains in her chest and the searing heat. A WARNING! immediately flashed up on her visor but she paid no heed. She grabbed at the shattered console and wrenched it towards herself. Nothing left to interface with but a small disc port. Fumbling with it, half-breaking the device to get at its contents.

A tiny card.

She slotted it into her arm cannon.

“Samus, what the hell are you doing!?” came Adam’s voice.

“SHUT UP!” she screamed, suddenly wincing. It hurt to shout. It hurt a lot. But she was angry.

She felt a hand on the shoulder of her power suit and struggled against it instinctively before realising it was Vitruvius. He backed off, hands straight up. “We have to go,” he said.

Samus scanned the area for any sign of Harry. There was none. She opened her comms link: “Harry? Harry, are you listening? We’re heading for the docks.” She tapped at her helmet. No guarantee it was even working.

Adam spoke. “Our ally is correct, Samus. We have to go.”

Silent complicity. No time for summoning. She began limping. Vitruvius didn’t look in much better shape. She didn’t bother asking how he was. But they leaned on each other, forming a kind of three legged, exposed-wired technical monstrosity. The bystanders who poked their heads out of windows could only gawk.

And ahead of them, storm troopers lined up in the streets.

“I’m going to try and get us there faster,” said Samus. “Hold on. I’ll need both arms for this.” She winced as the robot climbed onto her back.

She threw her left hand upwards, unleashing a grapple beam towards the face of a building far away from them. As she did so, storm troopers immediately began firing; she responded by bringing up a barrier with her gun arm. She ran, retracting the beam as she did so until it lifted her feet off the ground, sailing her above the crowds and towards the building. At the last second she brought her gun hand upwards and the barrier with it, just to mitigate their impact somewhat as they collided with the building. It was unfortunate that in this universe there seemed to be so few convenient locations in which to grapple unimpeded.

She’d almost forgotten her power of flight; she remembered just in time to kick off the wall and away from the eager hail of bullets that traced her path. She fired off another grapple beam and yanked them between another two buildings and out of the immediate line of fire. With both hands free she began to pull herself, airborne, through the skies with grapple beams and towards the docks. Warning signs still flashed up on her visor.

“There,” said Adam. “Take that blue boat. It’s small, fast. I can hack the systems.”

Samus had no objections. Hitting the ground running, she began to smell the sea; it reinvigorated her senses, providing a flood of energy from some unseen place and spurring on her numb legs. Vitruvius was quick in pursuit, though not quite as quick. As she jumped and landed feet-first on the boat she was able to turn and latch him with the grapple beam to yank the robot towards her. Maybe not the smartest choice, as the impact threw them both to the ship’s deck.

“Hurry, Samus,” reminded Adam.

Samus had no time or energy to be annoyed, pushing the robot off her. To her surprise, getting to her feet required a huge amount of effort. It was as though landing had robbed her of the last of her energy. Her legs shook as she pressed against the ground.

“Samus, are you okay?” enquired the android as he leaned over her. His digital face showed what could have been mistaken for genuine concern.

“Yeah I’m…” Suddenly her suit vanished. She lay on the floor and all her pain hit her once.

The datacard containing Adam fell to the sheet metal flooring and she reached for it. Vitruvius picked it up first.

“I’ve got this,” he said. “Don’t move!”

Samus couldn’t move. She lay awake for only one more second before consciousness gave way to the sound of waves.

[Samus Aran]

Samus ran through the dark corridor, dodging between the bright blasts of blue that sailed past her shoulders. She turned the corner and fired at the hatch. It began to open. She hammered it as the footsteps filled her ears. It opened at last and she fell through, turning only to see her Dark Reflection. Black and blue. The hatch closed. She ran.

Now it was cold. The ice surrounded her, chilling her to the bone even through her power suit. She trudged through the snow, glancing behind her. Through the blizzard, she could see nothing. For what seemed like an eternity, she slogged onwards through the seemingly endless landscape.

Then she was in a corridor again. It was absolutely silent. She kept her footsteps quiet. Something above. On the metal ceiling.

Tck. Tck. Tck.

She held her breath.

Tck.

She’d been here before.

She turned and crept silently back away in the direction she’d come. Back through the hatch. Into another room… she didn’t recognise. Was this the way out? She moved into the centre of the long room.

And then the dreaded sound came from behind her. The sound of the hatch opening.

She wheeled and saw herself. Not her dark reflection, but a different one. Clad in the same armour but brighter somehow.

She tried to turn and found herself moving slowly. As if through water. Agonisingly she wrenched herself towards the far end of the room. She fired at the hatch. It slowly opened. The footsteps behind her grew louder. She knew it was right behind her. She fired for the hatch ahead.

It wasn’t firing at her. She reached for the exit as it opened.

Her Dark Reflection stared back at her and her breath froze in her chest.

It took her by the throat and lifted her upwards. She raised her gun arm and fired into its face. The one that reflected her own. It ignored her. It threw her back into the centre of the long room where the other her waited.

The bright her and the dark her stood above her now, arms crossed. Her vision blurred and the figures crossed over. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She was trapped in her own body.

And then she could move and the figure was gone. She sat bolt upright and scanned in a panic. She wasn’t in her suit now. The world seemed to rock unnaturally. She rolled and fell onto a hard metal flooring. It hurt. She scrambled until she found a door and her trembling hands opened it. The bright light hurt her eyes.

Suddenly she realised it had all been just a dream. The cold sweat on her brow was real. The pain, too.

The ocean.

That had been the strange rocking. There were out on the open sea. She struggled to recall the events of the previous day.

“Samus!” It was a new yet familiar voice. She turned.

The android for whom she’d risked her life. Right now he seemed less real than the dream she’d just had.

The android bowed his head a couple of times as if afraid to look her in the eyes. She turned away and leaned on the siderail instead.

“Where is Adam?” she asked.

“Part of the ship’s computer. He’s infected the systems.” A faint mechanical clicking as the droid arched its head. “He’s a … very wilful AI.”

Samus said nothing. “Take me to him.”

They crossed the ship. Samus had never been on a sailing ship before. In her mind, boats such as this were all rustic and wooden, but this one was metal, as sleek and modern as her own ship had been. A trail of blue light waked the waters.

The control room was exactly that. A large window allowed viewing of the world outside, but beneath it were an array of small monitors and human interfacing devices. She felt his presence the moment she stepped into the room, in the hum of the fans and the electromagnetism in the air.

“I see you’re awake, my lady.”

Samus scowled. She slowly turned to the android.

“Do you have a name?”

“Vitruvius.”

“Vitruvius, would you mind leaving us alone?”

The black-metal being nodded its head and did as such.

Samus stood with her arms crossed for what seemed like a long time.

“I’m sorry, Samus.”

“If you had a body I’d punch you right now.” There was no response, so she continued. “You… you tried to take your life. Again.”

The response was less calm than usual. “You know I’m ready to give your life for yours, Samus. I’m a secondary. You’re a Prime. You can always re-summon me if I die.”

This time Samus did punch Adam, in the best way she could, by smashing her right arm into the mass of computer systems. As she’d done so her suit had materialised around her, as if it had been there all along.

“You think you’re so fucking heroic!” Her yet un-helmeted visage glared up at the monitors, as if to focus on something. “You fucking dickhead!”

And with that, she strode out onto the deck. She stomped over the pristine metal flooring, angrily searching for somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t here. It had to be the sea, she thought bitterly. She threw her arms over the side and leaned across the rail, staring as hard as she could.

She’d lost him twice now. The first time had hurt the most, of course. She’d been on the Bottle Ship. On a mission. He given his life up on some stupid, selfless act to save everyone else. That was Adam.

And then she’d been ripped into the Omniverse. Losing him again to the whims of fate. It was as though someone out there revelled in making her suffer. Was it Omni? Was he really the god of the universe or was it someone else? She wished she could punch them.

She knew she’d have to apologise to Adam. She knew it couldn’t have been an easy decision to make. And as much as his personality enraged her, it was also why she loved him.

She watched the ocean for a while. It was peaceful. She could see why people enjoyed sailing. It made her miss the silence of space, in a way. The hum of the ship. Just her and her thoughts.

[Samus Aran]

Adam didn’t feel emotion. Not like a human. He processed information and responded to that in the way his processes indicated him to. His programmed reactions were based on a system even he didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t the Federation who’d developed the technology to transfer organic minds into computer systems. Like much of their technology, it had been appropriated. Would the Chozo and Luminoth, those ancient races of peace and harmony, approve of their technologies being used to bring back the minds of deceased military commanders for use in warfare? It had never even occurred to Adam to ask that question until he’d been brought back.

He didn’t fully understand why Samus had chosen to break the dashboard of the ship’s human interface devices. Aran was rational, almost to a fault. It had been many years since Adam had seen her lose her temper in such a way. It made him worry. Was it his presence that had brought about her emotional response? She had brought him here. So why? Why did his presence seem to agitate her so much, and why would she even bring him back if that were the case? He lacked the necessary information to narrow down any one definitive answer. Perhaps if he’d still been human. Perhaps if Samus had not deemed to summon him in this vestigial form.

They’d been travelling for some time now. Aran had been unconscious for almost a full twenty-four hours. Despite that, her rate of recovery was nothing short of incredible. Simply being a Prime, in this universe, was like being given a free ticket to power. Adam often found himself assessing how to use that to their advantage. However, since her outburst, Samus had not even come to the control room. Luckily Vitruvius had been kind, or sensible, enough to repair the damage to the control systems. Already the advantages of having two Primes on board were tangible.

The boat was fast, and capable. By this point, Adam was not worried about immediate forces being able to capture them on the high sea. The “Vasty Deep”, as it was known on the Dataverse, had enough of an Imperial presence not to merit further pursuit from the main Coruscant forces. That was more of a worry. The Imperial admiral, Kizaru, was a monster. Encountering him would mean that Samus was likely as good as banished, along with their android companion. Adam, for his part, would likely simply be destroyed, or if particularly unlucky enough would be captured, and forced to work for the Empire. As a computer AI, he was unsure of his ability to resist any attempts to reprogram his software. His lack of knowledge regarding his own operating systems only compounded that doubt. Luckily for all of them, the chance of encountering the Imperial flagship in a verse as vast as the Deeps was incredibly low.

[Samus Aran]

Samus rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes. The workshop smelled of tin and oil, quiet except for the tick of the clock in the far corner. Bleary eyed, the Chozo-Human hybrid squinted and went back to work on her armor. The orange surface glowed beneath her fingers as she worked.

A knock came at the door.

“Samus,” came a small voice, “Are you still awake?”

The light was on, Samus noted irritably. “I’m awake,” she said.

The door creaked open. “I just thought I’d see how you were doing,” came the head at the door, barely half of Samus’s height and adorned with wispy hair the colour of dust. “It’s quite late, isn’t it?”

Samus looked across at the clock. Twelve fifteen. She sighed. “I suppose.”

“I don’t want to bother you. Just thought you might want some company.”

Looking at the wall, Samus closed and then opened her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just been a while since I made any adjustments.” She turned and forced a smile at the old woman. “It’s more fun than it looks.”

The old woman smiled sweetly back. “Just make sure you don’t get to bed too late.”

“I won’t. Good night.”

After the door closed, Samus scowled. She’d been put off entirely from what she was doing. Putting down the armour, she stood up and stretched. Her bones felt like a bundle of twigs, and they cracked as she rolled her shoulders about. She needed to get some real exercise. But not today. Not tonight.

Stepping out into the night sky, Samus walked down to the beach. The ocean stretched in all directions, black and endless as space. It wasn’t so different at all. She could get used to it. Perhaps this universe needed her more than the one she’d been born into.

It would have been nice to have a choice, though.

The boat was gone. Dismantled entirely. The Empire knew what it looked like. But Samus had summoned a smaller, sleeker boat in its place. Adam sat in there, monitoring the Dataverse for anything unusual.

She leaned into the control room, the lights momentarily blinding her at this hour. Adam never slept. “Hey,” she monotoned.

“Lady.” The AI shot back. “Aren’t you up a bit late?” he added.

Samus grunted, sitting down at the controls and opening up a monitor. She slouched over the keyboard, then looked up. “Water?”

A plastic cup shot out of a dispenser to her right.

“Thanks.” She took it and slurped.

“They’ve been talking about this Dante’s Abyss on all the streams,” said Adam.

“I know,” said Samus. It filled her with a sick curiosity, she had to admit, but the sick far outweighed the curiosity. She knew that such shows were popular even in her own galaxy, but at least the Federation had the humanity to outlaw them. To watch them was to give them legitimacy. Her attention was far better served by other things. Even watching funny animal vids was more productive, in that it was less abhorrent.

And yet it was plastered over the headlines. The Empire was only too happy to spend hours talking about how disgusting it was, all the while showing pictures and detailing the competitors. ‘Just to keep people informed, of course.’

Samus grimaced. She almost clicked away but something caught her eye. An armour she recognised. The polar opposite of her own; stylish and rustic, low-tech in its extravagance. The hunter’s pupils dilated.

Cindy.

Samus sat still for almost a minute, her heart pumping and her eyes fixed on the image.

It had been many months since her encounter with Cindy, fighting the Rathalos. They’d taken it down as a group, and, as the artefacts lay before them … That’s when Cindy had bashed her over the head with a hammer.

She hadn’t seen the monster hunter since. Not for lack of trying. She suspected that Cindy mostly operated off the nets. It would make sense for a hunter from the kind of universe that Cindy seemed to be from, but it also made sense that someone with Cindy’s moral predilections probably didn’t want to have a massive presence. But it seemed that even she couldn’t resist the pull of such a big event. Samus could have puked right then and there.

Was this what most Primes did? Run around treating this all as some big game, getting rewards and power by killing and destroying? She stood up and fumed.

“Don’t do it, Samus.” It was Adam speaking.

Samus didn’t respond. She left the control room and hopped off the boat, returning to the island. She didn’t feel the cold, nor hear the crickets. She saw only logic, and herself floating further and further away from it.

[Samus Aran]

Samus stepped away from the television set. “There. All done. You should be able to get most of the channels now.” She smiled.

The old woman smiled back. “You’ve been too nice, Samus.”

Samus turned away. “It’s been nothing. You guys harboured us. Sheltered us. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”

“We’ll be watching you. Be safe. And come back to visit when you can.”

“Yeah.”

Samus stepped out to the boat. She ducked her head into the control room. “Set a course for Cinnabar Isle.”

“Aye, lady,” said Adam. His voice held a note of resignation to it.

Samus stepped out onto the starboard. As the boat turned, she looked back to the island and waved. Then she went to the prow. She stared at the horizon.