Metroid Fan Fiction ❯ Stumbling Toward Elysia ❯ The Man With No Face ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4: The Man With No Face

 

 

"Vehicular manslaughter?!" the advocate cried, waving a set of arrest documents like a flag. "My client merely had a few drinks! It's not like he tried to kill someone!"

 

"Heh, heh," the accused laughed - or rather rumbled, as very little that one could recognize as a laugh ever made it past his titanic Orion bulk. Even now, the reek of stale liquor rolled off him in waves. "Besides, does anyone really care if there's one less skirt on the streets?"

 

Sergeant Wiren looked from advocate to client, and couldn't decide which stellar example of sentient life would force him to vomit first. "Buddy, I'll care if there's one less of you on the streets. You can go across the hall and see the court clerk for a trial date." The sergeant nearly threw the papers back across the desk. "Now you and Mr. Fun Times take a walk."

 

"I protest! This is clear abuse by an officer of the Galactic--"

 

The shyster's words died in his throat as a massive hand clamped down on his shoulder. "I believe the officer asked you to leave," a flat synthetic voice said.

 

"Who? What?" Blinded by the agony in his arm, the advocate tried to turn, but all he could see of his assailant was his metal-clad arm and torso.

 

"You are holding up the line," the armored figure said coldly. "And I dislike delays. Do I make myself clear?"

 

The advocate didn't need to be told twice; he and his client hustled out the door the second the hunter let him go.

 

"Anywhere else in the galaxy you'd be up for assault charges," Wiren muttered, but the appreciative glance he directed at the bounty hunter belied his words. "Got another one?"

 

"More than one. These are 771, 459, 488, 150 and their squad leader 725, and their frigate Vol Faralam is parked in your impound dock. All of them are wanted under the Interstellar Piracy Act."

 

The chain gang of captured Urtragians stared balefully at the desk sergeant, as though daring him to comment.

 

Five places back in the line, Gandrayda's ears perked up as she heard a familiar synthesized voice. The mysterious hunter she'd run afoul of a month before had returned. She frowned as she strained her ears to pick up the conversation.

 

"You probably know the drill, then," Wiren replied, reaching for yet another stack of forms. "I'll take them for now, and then you'll have to come back to swear out a warrant before a naval officer. That probably won't be till next week, though, on account of the holidays."

 

"I understand," the hunter said, filling out the paperwork as best he could one-handed. His calm acceptance of the wait surprised Wiren; he'd figured the hunter would be upset at having his pay delayed. "As long as these... individuals get their due punishment."

 

"I hear ya," the sergeant replied, although he sensed that more lay beneath the hunter's treatment of his captives than simple monetary gain. "We'll call you when they want your statement. Take it easy. Maybe hang around for the weekend."

 

"Thank you." And with that, the hunter was gone.

 

Some minutes later, Gandrayda reached the front of the line with her own petty crook in tow. She tried not to wince as she signed for the paltry bounty credit; it had cost her a bit more than that simply to find the head, let alone drag him in. Meanwhile, the armored hunter had once again, and seemingly with no effort, captured a set of bounties worth more than her yearly income. If only I knew how that guy does it... she thought enviously.

 

An idea occurred to her, and she turned back to the desk. "Hey, Sarge," she said, leaning provocatively across the surface. "I'm just dying to know. Who's the big guy that keeps bringing in all the good bounty heads?"

 

"I don't have time for chitchat, Gandrayda, I'm up to my ass in reports," Wiren groused.

 

"Aw, that's no way to talk to a lady," Gandrayda pouted. "Come on, you know who I'm talking about. Yellow armor, big gun, funny voice... what's his story?"

 

"His story? Right, like I have nothing better to do with my time than listen to bounty hunters' life stories. As far as I know, he's a name and a registry number, got it? I don't know anything else, and I don't want to know anything else. Now beat it."

 

"I will if you'll give me his name." The shapeshifter shimmied a little closer, giving Wiren an even better view of her cleavage. "Pretty please?"

 

"Oh, for the love of--" The desk sergeant sighed, looked up to meet her eyes. "Sam something. Samuel, Samson... no, Samus. That's it. Samus Aran."

 

"See, that wasn't so hard," Gandrayda cooed. "Thanks, Sarge. Don't work too hard on those reports, okay?"

 

"Whatever, next please," Wiren called out to the crowd as Gandrayda sashayed out of the building.

 

As she walked down the steps and out to the street, Gandrayda's mind spun as she tried to figure out the armored bounty hunter's identity. Realistically, she wasn't much closer than she had been before, but at least now she had a name to match with the armor. "Samus Aran," the police sergeant had said. It was a fairly unusual name as far as personal names went; certainly it wasn't one she had ever heard before.

 

"You might be a big-shot hunter," she whispered to herself. "But let's see what happens when someone hunts you."

 

*****

 

The New Pacifica Public Library didn't look like much from the outside, housed in a featureless gray concrete building a few blocks from the city center. However, within its walls rested a treasure beyond price: instant access to all the data centers that comprised the galactic information network, available free of charge to any citizen. It formed an ideal first stop for anyone in need of cheap, reliable information, which was exactly what had brought Gandrayda there.

 

For this "mission," as she'd come to think of her pursuit of the armored hunter, she had assumed the form of a teen-aged, slightly overweight human female, with mousy brown hair and eyes to match. The cheap, deeply unfashionable outfit she'd chosen hung from her frame in all the wrong places, and a pair of glasses and a backpack completed the ensemble. To all who looked at her, she was just another student - nameless, faceless, utterly forgettable. Smiling faintly, she walked up the front ramp and into the building, heading for the main reference room.

 

A palm-print later, Gandrayda sat in front of one of the public computer terminals, armed with thirty minutes of network time and a few questions she wanted answered. Opening a link to the Federation Ministry of Justice, she selected "Licenses and Registrations" from the menu and typed in her query. A single entry came up in response to her search, and the screen cleared to display the information contained within.

 

> Galactic Federation Police License Query System

> 1: Aran, Samus \ 8.6.2000 \ 486719544

> Species: Not given \ Sex: Not given \ Hair/Eyes: Not given

> Height: Not given \ Weight: Not given \ Photo unavailable

> Place of residence: Post Drop 113842, Dirian, Baloth Sector

 

-------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------

> Licensure history: 4 records available

> -Pilot, large craft/commercial, #A770161399615; expires 8.6.2025

> --2 demerits: Failure to file flight plan, Ursae Sector, 6.20.2018

> -Concealed weapon carry; expires 1.1.2022

> -Destructive devices, own and use; expires 1.1.2021

> -Fugitive recovery agent, Class A, #13576; expires 12.30.2020

 

> Vehicle registrations: 1

> HSMBS115321PW5610 "Defender" Sigma-class armed transport

> FTL-capable: Yes \ Atmosphere-capable: Yes \ Engines: 2

> Color: FF0033,FFCC00 \ Armament: Not given

 

Gandrayda swore silently - the registry hadn't told her much of anything, and she couldn't fathom how any sentient being could get past the almighty requirements of the Ministry of Justice bureaucrats. She backed out, selected "Vital Records," and then "Search By Name." A few clicks told the computer exactly what she was looking for, and a second later, the results scrolled across her screen.

 

> GF Ministry of Public Health - Department of Vital Records

> Database last updated: 7.10.2020 15:36:42

> Search term: sn:Aran pn:S dob:1.1.1995,7.10.2015

> Search returned 457 records. Records 1-10 shown.

 

> 1: Aran, Sabrina \ 10.10.2014 \ Groombridge 1618 \ 607115340

> 2: Aran, Sacha \ 5.30.1997 \ Thorn IV \ 289237434

> 3: Aran, Saida \ 1.2.2001 \ Kenai Station \ 119502342

> 4: Aran, Sakura \ 4.7.2016 \ Earth \ 151751375

> 5: Aran, Samantha \ 9.1.2014 \ Tau Ceti IV \ 763954830

> 6: Aran, Samuel \ 4.15.2009 \ Betelgeuse Station \ 289530103

> 7: Aran, Samuel \ 7.22.2002 \ Alpha Centauri III \ 522718910

> 8: Aran, Samus \ 8.6.2000 \ K-2L \ 486719544

> 9: Aran, Sander \ 10.22.2007 \ Weyard \ 327872827

> 10: Aran, Sarah \ 2.24.2011 \ Earth \ 932436572

 

> <First> <Previous 10> <Next 10> <Last> <Refine Search> <Quit>

 

Gotcha! she thought, selecting record 8 from the list. To her frustration, though, an error box popped up instead of the information she wanted.

 

> ERROR: Record unavailable. Code 1145.

 

"Excuse me," she said, waving to a nearby librarian. "I'm having some trouble with the computer. It keeps giving me this weird error."

 

"Oh, that happens all the time," the librarian replied with a friendly smile. "I'll just take a-- oh. Oh, I see."

 

Gandrayda frowned at the Carolian woman's sudden change of tone. "Something wrong?"

 

"Well, this error code, see? 1145 means that the records were destroyed or unrecoverable. Usually it's because of some kind of disaster, a flood or an earthquake. And no wonder, look at this." She pointed to the "Location" column. "I don't think you're going to find anyone from there, miss."

 

"Why? Did something happen on K-2L?"

 

The librarian peered sharply at her for a second, but then smiled sympathetically. "You'd be too young to remember, wouldn't you. The whole colony was raided by Space Pirates. Every man, woman and child died in the space of a few hours. When the rescue crews got there, they found nothing but rubble and ashes. That was almost twenty years ago, now, and I'm not sure anybody has ever tried to rebuild it."

 

"Oh no! That's awful." Gandrayda put on a suitably appalled expression to match her tone. "No one survived, you said?"

 

"Not a single soul," the librarian confirmed. Another patron called out for assistance just then, and she straightened from the terminal. "Anyway, I hope you find what you're looking for. Please don't hesitate to ask if you have any other questions."

 

"Thank you," Gandrayda said, but her attention was still fixed on the blinking lines on the screen.

 

 

 

Author's Note: Yes, Gandrayda's indulging in a bit of cyber-stalking...

 

Samus' date of birth comes from the initial release date of Metroid (August 6, 1986 in Japan). The ship in the GF file is the ship she had in Zero Mission. Since it doesn't resemble any of her other gunships, I gave it its own class rating. And as seen from her license records, even the galaxy's greatest bounty hunter can run afoul of the traffic patrol. ;-)

 

As always, thank you for reading.