Chapter Text
The seconds felt like eternities.
It couldn't have been but two or three minutes since the planet ZDR had vaporized, but Samus Aran felt as though she could feel the heat of the blast wave tingling her back. She knew in her mind that such a thing was impossible, yet something in her burned anyway. It could have been the rush of adrenaline, her racing pulse, or perhaps it was the chemical war going on in her body between Metroid and X-parasite DNAs.
Perhaps it was a bit of all three.
Samus felt her left hand very tightly gripping her cockpit's armrest. The hand that, were it not for Quiet Robe's sacrifice, would have drained her gunship of its energy and left her and the computer AI Adam to burn along with the rest of the planet. She tried to consciously remove her death grip from her console before she ended up damaging either.
Adam hadn't said anything yet in those long, silent minutes. He had said nothing since his terse warning not to touch the ship with her out-of-control "Metroid Suit". She managed to peel her hand off of the console and stare at it once more. It no longer burned with the novel hunger she felt during most of her ZDR expedition. The hunger both to subdue her assailants and drain them of their vital energies. That feeling was definitely alien, yet it had felt as natural as the hunger from needing a meal. Was it really hers, or was it just the Metroid's DNA parasitizing her body?
Samus felt that her fever might be getting worse. She felt almost afraid to take off her power suit, something she typically did after each mission was over. Ever since the Fusion suit had "fixed" itself into something resembling her typical power suit, the functions had become "sticky", for a lack of a better term. Some command integrations felt less robotic and more organic. What was once as binary as turning off a function such as the Space Jump with a few key eye movements and blinks became something she just had to "feel". It was more personal, and yet more difficult, like trying to force oneself to sneeze.
"You must have something to say," Samus' voice came out accusatory. It wasn't "Adam" after all on most of ZDR, it was the Chozo Raven Beak impersonating him. Samus barely knew what Adam had picked up on his sensors during the expedition, yet his quick thinking saved both of their lives. Well, as much as a "life" as one could ascribe to an artificial intelligence, anyway.
"There is much data to analyze," Adam's emotionless voice came back.
"Do you want to tell me why you let an X parasite on the ship?" Samus didn't know why she could barely control her anger. She felt her gratitude toward him for saving their lives, yet frustration bubbled up within her, frothing over.
"You will not like this answer," Adam warned, "but a 'living' Chozo, parasitized or not, is something of great interest to the Galactic Federation. I was collecting as much data as I can. The subject seemed docile enough; peculiar. From both your dealings on the BSL and the power readings I was obtaining from you toward the end of the mission, I surmised you would have no difficulty subduing the Chozo had it become a threat."
Samus wanted to protest the use of "it", but found she didn't know if she could. That X parasite was wearing the DNA and memories of Quiet Robe like a... well, a robe. It couldn't have still been "him". But then, that also would mean Adam wasn't "Adam", Adam Malkovich that was. It was just a technological facsimile. Samus had wrestled with semantics like this for quite awhile, more so now that it felt like her own body was transforming into something that might not quite be "Samus Aran" either.
The purple gunship had no real heading. She was just traveling through the vastness of space, unlikely to encounter anything until she was steered toward something resembling civilization. More minutes went by with whirring from Adam's computations.
"I must request your mission report," Adam said suddenly. "There are holes in my analysis I would like filled." Samus' helmet tilted over to that circular occulus, the representation of all that Adam currently was. The eye was unmoving, unblinking. "In your own time, of course."
"I'll give it to you now," Samus held up her arm cannon and called up the data interface manifold into her reach. "Here's all the map and structural data of the planet."
"And your retelling of the events, if you please," Adam pursued. "Keep in mind I lost contact with you the moment you entered the underground of ZDR."
Samus sighed to herself, removing her arm cannon from the interface. She related the tale of the fates of that world, the warrior Chozo who inhabited it, the quarantined X parasites, the bizarre imprisonment of Kraid, everything.
"Intriguing," Adam took in the story and spat that reaction out almost immediately, "a planet doomed by the arrogance of one Chozo. The Galactic Federation has long revered the Chozo as paragons of intelligence, wisdom, and the perfection of the marriage between belief and science. It is somewhat surprising to hear that they too are as fallible as any other mortal species."
"The Mawkin are not 'the Chozo'," Samus snapped, her fist balling within her arm cannon, "any more than a group of warmongering Galactic Federation splinter cells is the Galactic Federation. The Thoha are much more representative of Chozo beliefs; they go to great lengths to not cause suffering to other living beings. The Mawkin are... different."
"Convinced of their superiority," Adam noted. "Willing to exert their power over other species. Well, if any species had the right to feel like that, it would be the Chozo. However, it is clear even they can be laid low by conventional means. I am not sure how the Galactic Federation would respond to that."
"I..." Samus felt her teeth grind a bit in her mouth. "I wish we didn't have to tell them. Both the GF's and the Space Pirate's lust for Chozo technology is as shameful as it is plain."
"Though I agree, the Mawkin introduce a factor into this equation," Adam responded. "The Mawkin pose a probable threat to galactic security if any of them survive on other worlds. It would be irresponsible not to inform the Galactic Federation."
"I agree," Samus sighed, reservation clear in her voice. "I just wish it hadn't come to this. ...Plotting in a course for the nearest Galactic Federation Space Station."
"Midspace Four confirmed," Adam whirred. "...Hyperspace pathway calculated."
"Let's go, then," Samus pulled the throttle after the course was locked in, and her ship jumped into hyperspace.
"Your genome is part Mawkin, then," Adam said, umprompted.
Samus felt a jab in her chest at the words. A jab of unease. She was shaken out of the staring of the gray, streaking void of hyperspace and turned to look at Adam's visualization.
"...Raven Beak was one of my DNA donors, yes," Samus said carefully. When Adam said nothing in return, Samus began to bristle internally. "And?"
"Just another annotation for my file on you, Lady," Adam explained, "not that it is of much aid to anyone. Every time you come back from a mission it seems your genome has been altered irrevocably once more."
"It's a wonder I still pass for human," Samus grumbled, returning to looking at the hyperspace void, "if I even count as one. ...I was rejected for entry onto one of my own gunships before, you know. On Phazaae, after the Phazon had fully integrated with my body. 'Not recognized as human'. I'd never been so chilled by a simple error message."
"I'm not human either, if that makes you feel any better," Adam replied.
"It doesn't, thanks," Samus muttered.
"Do you know I still remember what a steak dinner tastes like?" Adam continued.
Samus blinked behind her visor. "...What?"
"A steak dinner, with a nice bottle of off-dry wine imported from Earth," Adam went on, "it was my favorite."
"Okay," Samus tilted her helmet. "Why are you telling me this...?"
"Because obviously, it's not true," Adam replied. "I have never eaten steak. I have never eaten anything. I am a computer program approximating Adam Malkovich's memories and thought patterns. I have no mouth, no digestive system. Yet, I can clearly 'remember' what a steak tastes like. I even wonder what it would be like if I found some way to have that experience again."
"What are you saying?" Samus wondered.
"That we are not... perhaps precisely our memories, or urges, or anything of that nature, but a summation of all that has happened," Adam said. "I can sense your unease at what is happening to your body. Even if it did not affect you mentally, it is clearly having an effect on your vital signs. I just want to supply you with the encouragement that I still believe you are 'Samus Aran'. Even if your previous ship did not."
"...You believe you're the real Adam, then?" Samus wondered. "Despite what you just said?"
"No, but there's a difference between us," Adam explained. "As unprecedented as the circumstances behind your existence are, they more classically resemble nature than what happened to me. I was born from nothing and gifted the memories of a human man. Your body is remaking itself, as all human bodies do. At some point a human no longer contains a single cell from what they were originally. Yet they still consider themselves 'themselves'. This is why I believe even though you are seasoned with many genetic anomalies, you are still Samus Aran."
Samus almost grinned behind her helmet. "Thanks for the vote of confidence then, Adam."
"Of course," Adam continued. "I am merely saying this just to assure you that I would not lock you out of this ship for so erroneous a reason."
"Ah, okay," Samus let loose a small chuckle. "A very 'Adam' thing to say."
After a short delay, Adam piped up again. "Hyperspace communication completed. Midspace Four is expecting us and setting you up with an appointment to meet Rear Admiral Leonard Crossfield."
Samus let out a small sigh of relief. "Crossfield. Good. If anyone will stay off my case for blowing up another planet, it's him."
"There are the loss of the EMMI to consider," Adam reminded her.
"True, but he's normally good-natured," Samus nodded once. "He'll get it."
Samus' ship dropped out of hyperspace and ended up near the Galactic Federation's Midspace Four, a large bright gray space station which orbited an idyllic, Earth-like world. Ship traffic was light on that day, though the docking bays looked a bit over-utilized.
"Adam, can you open a channel to the baymaster?" Samus started preparing her ship for docking procedures, powering down nonessential systems.
"Compliance," Adam replied.
"Midspace 4 Baymaster to... Samus Aran? Can you copy?"
"Copy, Baymaster, this is Samus Aran," she replied. "Requesting docking permission."
"Ah, uh, sure, yes," the baymaster's monotone voice suddenly went alive with panic. "Most of our docking bays are full, but... ah, docking bay six is empty. Sorry, from there it will be a long elevator ride to the heart of the station."
"Affirmative, Baymaster, docking bay six locked in," Samus smirked. "And don't worry, if I had a problem with elevators, I'd be in trouble by now."
"Haha!" The Baymaster barked out a forced laugh. Samus heard him say "that was a joke, right?" in a harsh whisper, seemingly to someone else.
"Guess I need to work on my delivery," Samus shook her head.
"Oh, please stay in your ship until the docking bay concludes its scan," the Baymaster added.
"Understood, Aran out," Samus closed the channel, then sucked at her teeth. "I don't know why I even try sometimes."
"To be fair, Lady, your propensity to end up on long elevator rides is not widely circulated knowledge," Adam reminded her.
"I guess that's fair," Samus shrugged her big, pauldron-guarded shoulders, sitting back in her seat and waiting for the scan to conclude.