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The Bergman Affair	By : HunterOpera Category: +M through R > Metroid Views: 48055 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this. Metroid, Samus, et al are owned by the people that own them, not me. Other M was an abomination in terms of narrative. I'm writing porn while being more respective of the characters...

Chapter List
- 1-The Bergman Affair
- 2-Arrival at YS7-23
- 3-Shaktool
- 4-Kaaye
- 5-Bormu
- 6-Draygon
- 7-Cavern
- 8-Kago
- 9-Zoomer
- 10-Yapping Maw
- 11-Vogl
- 12-Zebesian
- 13-Slaughter
- 14-Interlude
- 15-SporeSpawn
- 16-Jump
- 17-Cacatac
- 18-Zoomer II
- 19-Keaton
- 20-Slime
- 21-Big Time
- 22-Sylux
- 23-Brannigan
- 24-Hook
- 25-Mia Xen
- 26-Line
- 27-Atrocity
- 28-Horror
- 29-Sinker
- 30-Fear
- 31-Ridley
- 32-Wreck
- 33-Pulse
- 34-Light
- 35-Robot
- 36-Laboratory
- 37-Covern
- 38-Phantoon
- 39-Sakamoto
- 40-Madeline
- 41-Damara
- 42-Melissa
- 43-Samus Aran
- 44-Punishment
- 45-Healing
- 46-Finale and Acknowledgments
- 12
- 13
- 14
Planet YS7-23, GFDate ????:????
snicker-snak
A whole second to cut the woven from her. Another to roll to her feet and push forward, the knife plunging into the leader's throat. She pushed with all her weight, extending from the hips, satisfied by the ripping sound and the way the Zebesian shuddered and sagged.
The others were slow to react to what was happening. Samus Aran was only too happy to take advantage of their fear, but she did not move towards them. Already the fruit-eyes were blinking at her furiously, detaching themselves from the trees that held them, seeking the safety of the air.
- ST
Samus ran up a tree and jumped, landing on one of them and plunging her knife downward. The fruit hissed and started to fall but she was kicking off that one, heading to the next, then the next. Below her, the Zebesians had rallied and were firing at her. Grimacing, she let the two remaining fruits drift away, plunging back down.
Landing, she rolled to one side, ducking around the Kago hive and somersaulting below one of her old tormentors and pushing up from her heels, her blade sinking into her enemy's jaw and coming to rest at the hilt. She flicked her wrist, freeing the blade from internal suction, pulling the corpse in front of her to shield herself from their attacks.
Smiling for the first time since the Kago had surprised her, she waited for the Zebesians to pause in their assault, then spun and threw their dead kin at them. They stumbled as she followed, leaping over her savage projectile and planting both her feet in one's chest. He tripped over his feet, fell over the ledge, clicking all the way.
The Yapping Maw surged out of one of the holes below her, but she was ready – she moved out of the way of the initial surge, then grabbed the long sinuous body and pushed, directing the creature into another one of her enemies. It shattered the skull of the Zebesian it struck, and Samus drove her knife into the back of its head when she was done.
Laughing, she pulled her blade free with brutal efficiency, spraying the blood of her enemies all over the cavern. Less than a minute had passed and already four of her enemies were dead. The two Zebesians still facing her looked at one another and backed up a step, looking for escape even as she closed in on them.
A quick roundhouse kick caught the closer of the two in the throat, staggering him, and when she pushed him back he fell over the Yapping Maw. She threw her knife at the Kago hive, jumping up as the whole cavern shook from the attack, coming down on the one remaining Zebesian in her line of sight as the Kago surged over the last Zebesian and bound him to the top of their hive with their woven.
She rolled over to the Kago hive, releasing the Zebesian she had landed on and taking cover behind the mound that had bound its last remaining ally. It pushed itself to its feet, unsure what to do as she claimed the wrist of her bound enemy and forced it to fire until the final standing Zebesian was dead.
“Who am I?” she whispered, ripping the head of the woven Zebesian and taking satisfaction from the angry terrified clicks as she exposed its throat. She wasn't certain if it could understand her, but it nonetheless clicked the one word she was looking for.
Hunter.
Her knife sunk between its eyes a moment later.
She stood slowly, surveying the scene. The cavern around her was quiet save for her breathing and the scuttling sound of a dozen fleeing Zoomers. She let them go, but promised herself that she would kill every last one of the damned animals she came across.
A sudden fleeing caught her attention – the Zebesian she had knocked over the ledge was attempting to run. She leaped down, landing on its shoulders and driving its head into the stone, dragging its face across the craggy surface until it was nothing more than a dead and bloody smear.
Flickering light on the creature's wrist caught her attention. She studied it, curious, keeping her senses alert for anything that might come close to her. She felt a slow smile creep over her face – there was an electronic map on the Zebesian's wrist, and though the light faded as the Zebesian died she still had enough time to craft a route for herself.
She returned to the higher ledge and pried the largest talon off the body of the leader, fashioning a handle and sheath for the weapon out of the discarded woven, treating the Kago's weaving with water to dissolve the sticky chemicals once she was done with her crafting.
Looking around, she started on her way.
Two of the fruit-eyes had escaped, she remembered, and she had to believe that they would return with reinforcements before too much time had passed.

Moon RK18-94, GFDate 4034:0421
The world froze wherever the bombs dropped.
Vhozons, Brannigan thought, looking up. During his time as a bounty hunter he'd sometimes crossed paths with that aloof people, each time glad that they most kept to themselves. Moralistic to the point of self-righteousness, the Vhozons interfered for reasons they could always justify, holding the galaxy to their standard of justice.
Their twelve mightiest living warriors were given the title of Paladin, carrying the title even in death. Stories of what the Paladins had accomplished over the years were exaggerated, making each of them a figure of legend that somehow still didn't stack up to the woman that had cost Brannigan so much – Samus Aran.
He'd heard that she'd taken a break from destroying Phaaze to stop their best Paladin, a warrior named Noxus, from claiming some sort of ultimate weapon. He'd hoped they'd decide that she was a problem, that they might try to destroy her, but they'd pulled back in the wake of that defeat.
Out here, Federation space crossed with both the Kriken Empire and the Vhozon monasteries. With the Kriken piling up near the border, the braintrusts had expected some sort of Kriken incursion, but it seemed -obvious- now that the Kriken had somehow known about what the Vhozon were up to – a full scale invasion.
The Vhozon used weaponry that froze the opposition, superior to the make of other technologies of that ilk except for that crafted by the Chozo. Though he was no tech expert himself, especially not these days, Brannigan had heard that Vhozon offensive capabilities were on par with the Phrysgisians.
He would have to be very careful if he wanted to survive this.
Galactic Federation marines moved to the attack under his command, he using satellite imaging to direct his troops. He knew their platoons and understood their strengths and weaknesses, utilizing them to try and halt the ground forces the Vhozon were deploying. Reports flooded in and Brannigan found himself trembling, shaking at the numbers the Vhozon had brought to bear.
Three Paladins. Three.
And one of them was the best of the lot. Noxus.
Noxus directed the other two, was clearly leading the opposing force. Brannigan studied the Vhozon warlord via the monitors in front of him, watching as the Paladin used his forced to separate the Federation troopers and moved to cut off all satellite signals.
Brannigan managed to get a single call for help out on a secure signal just before Noxus destroyed the communication relay, leaving Brannigan cut off from the outside world.
Sweating, the crippled Desgeega limped over to the windows of the tower he was in, looking down at the streets as the Vhozon cut through his troops, freezing them in place. He was relieved to note that they were leaving the troopers and civilians they froze in peace, destroying only the latest crop of Kaayes.
This puzzled Brannigan; the Vhozon cared nothing for financial gain, but the evidence of an economic coupe was right in front of him. There was -no- other reason that he could think of to destroy the harvest of plants.
Circumstances were falling apart around him, reminding him of old knowledge. He'd once been among the most feared warriors in the galaxy and he'd been in worse circumstances than these. Lumbering over to the armory, he grabbed an arm cannon and fixed it to his shattered limb, using the cannon to keep that arm steady as he lumbered down the stairs and outside.
A small force of Federation troopers had been pinned down by a Vhozon force. Brannigan narrowed his eyes and took stock of their numbers, smiling to himself as he raised his cannon and steadied himself.
Boom.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The recoil of each blast nearly threw him to the ground – Desgeega weaponry focused on power as opposed to speed, and most of his people preferred hand-to-hand combat as opposed to using the distance weaponry they had developed. Brannigan had mastered both, though it had been years since he'd last used a cannon.
Even so, four shots rang out and four Vhozon bodies hit the ground.
“Report,” Brannigan roared, walking over to the beleagured and exhausted troops. They stared as he approached, looking at his crippled limb, hope lighting in their eyes.
“We've lost half the city,” the highest remaining soldier said. He was reloading his rifle, the others following suit. “We tried holding the line, as you wanted, but the fighting grew thickest in the square and we had to fall back to this position.”
“If we lose the square, we lose the city,” Brannigan said, rallying the troops, reveling in the awe they were staring at him with. “If we hold the square we can keep them at bay long enough to get the remaining civilians off world.”
“Off world, sir?”
“This planet is lost, soldier,” Brannigan said, his voice grim. “Our job is to get everyone we can to safety. Don't worry, though, they will be other battles to fight. This war is only just beginning!”
When he moved towards the square the others followed, they obeying his orders and driving the Vhozon back. They set up a perimeter, got five of the remaining shuttles working, set up a road to move civilians through so that they could escape. Each of them took a Kaayes plant, Brannigan noticed, though he did not know why this was significant.
The Vhozon redoubled their efforts to stop them as soon as they noticed.
“Get the civilians out of here!” Brannigan ordered. The shuttles closed, took off, the soldiers moving into position and helping the shuttles to escape. Of the five that took off only three made it to space, the other two destroyed when the Vhozon froze the ships and forced them to crash.
Brannigan didn't have to order his soldiers forward after that – as one they moved forward, seeking revenge on the unexpected invaders. Brannigan led them as best he could but his injury began to catch up with him, the pain in his shattered limb making it harder and harder to concentrate. His soldiers began to die, one by one, the Vhozon closing in as Noxus himself took charge.
Soon, only Brannigan was left. His cannon had been broken by freeze-fire, his trembling body too weak to support his own wait. He could do nothing but watch as Noxus stalked towards him, weapon at the ready. Brannigan closed his eyes and prepared to die.
I did the best I could with what's left of me, he thought. If Samus hadn't crippled me, maybe I could have saved this world...
He cringed when he heard the sound of the air searing, the scent of burning ozone filling his nasal cavity. He cowered, praying for the illusive safety of unconsciousness to claim him.
It didn't. The air around him continued to burn and he continued to live.
He opened his eyes, looked around, his one good hand twitching with nervous tension.
A single figure had walked onto the battlefield, a distant silhouette. A continuous stream of green and yellow energy vomited out from the figure's weaponry, cutting through the Vhozon lines and killing everything it touched. The newcomer seemed colder than the ice the Vhozons had used, taking no joy from wholesale slaughter, though Brannigan knew enough about hominid body language to register the grim satisfaction implied by the set of the killer's shoulders.
Brannigan recognized the approaching figure from files he had taken from Federation military, need to know top secret clearance information that he shouldn't have had access to. There were rumors, of course, whispers of the monster that now approached him. Some had even begun during the twilight days of his bounty hunting career, rumors of a hunter who had stolen a suit of prototype armor from the Federation and was using it to destroy Federation soldiers and Zebesians alike. The feats of this warrior were spoken with the same hushed reverence that people had once used to describe the things he had done, or the atrocities that Samus Aran had committed.
The Vhozon came, trying to avenge the death of Noxus. Brannigan realized he hadn't even noticed that the Paladin had died. This lone figure stood against them all, killed them all, and Brannigan felt flickers of hope take root in his heart. Here was a warrior that would not be defeated, that could save them all.
Here was Sylux.
After the last Vhozon had fallen, Sylux looked around the wreckage, the mangled bodies of the dead and dying filling the ear with a foul smelling haze. Sylux cared nothing for the carnage, Brannigan realized, and he felt himself tremble when Sylux's gaze came to rest on him.
Had he been healthy, he might have tried to fight. Now, being crippled and seeing the destruction that Sylux had wrought, Brannigan knew his only salvation law in retreat.
Sylux caught up with him in moments, shoved him to the ground, loomed over him. His weaponry began to glow, a sickening miasma of emerald-gold crackling through the air around them.
“Did you radio in the attack?” Sylux asked, voice without accent or inflection. Brannigan mumbled that he had. Sylux took a moment, then lifted the wounded Desgeega up with one hand and carried him, pausing only to kick at the burned carapace of Noxus' head. “Self-righteous fool. Look how your nobility fails you, the same way you fail everyone else. I look forward to killing whatever fool next takes your name.”
“W-where are we going?” whispered Brannigan, thoroughly cowed.
“Don't be so scared,” Sylux answered. The Hunter's ship landed thirty feet away from where they stood, the doors to the craft opening as their master approached “You suffered a great wrong, once, I know someone who wishes to see that redressed.”

Planet YS7-23, GFDate 4034:0424
Three days. Three days since the Hunter had slaughtered the Zebesians, escaping from the Kago and other creatures that had been assaulting her. Three days of her creeping through the caves, unaware of the kaayes that were keeping their distance high above her, letting Melissa keep track of her enemy.
Madeline watched those monitors, scrutinizing them with the hope of salvation. Her daughter, on the other hand, focused most of her attention of the burgeoning war between the Vhozon and the Federation, giggling to herself and clapping her hands as Chairman Keaton was forced to act exactly how the clone wanted him to.
“See, mother?” Melissa asked, rubbing her hands together. “See how Keaton signs his alliance with the Krikens? See how they all become exactly what I want them to become?”
“I don't understand,” whispered Madeline, no longer flinching when her daughter touched, straddled her, ran kisses along her neck and jaw, whispering promises in her ear. “What is it you want them to become?”
“What you've become, mother,” Melissa answered, nibbling on Madeline's lower ear. “What you've become. What they are becoming. Mine.”
“W-what about Samus?” moaned the doctor, breath caught between the moment's of her daughter's affections. “She k-killed the Zebesians. She's still out there...” Her words trailed off in a long release of breathe. She shuddered when her daughter pulled back, looking her in the eyes.
“I have more of the bugs,” Melissa shrugged. “I can always make more bugs. And they'll continue to play their part. Time to move on, though. Time to move forward. I have another idea.”
Between Melissa and the toy she had made of a once mighty man, all thought was driven from Madeline's head. She quivered and panted, sweaty and warm until consciousness claimed her. When she awoke she found herself alone, wrapped in a blanket, her daughter standing with arms crossed as she watched a familiar ship dock at their facility.
Once the ship came to a rest a door opened and Sylux stepped out, carrying a crippled Desgeega behind him. Madeline watched as her daughter took a seat, deactivating the defenses that stood between them and their visitors.
Not a word passed between Sylux and Melissa when the Hunter reached them. Melissa paid the bounty she had set and Sylux left, leaving the whimpering creature dressed in the ragged remains of a Federation officer's uniform. Madeline looked at him, careful to keep her breathing even, wondering if her daughter knew she was awake.
“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Melissa said, kneeling beside the creature, stroking his face, trailing gentle fingers along his crippled limb. “All your injuries I will fix. All your pains I will take them from you. Take them from you. And then I will give you a chance to take her.” The clone's low giggling filled every silent space between them.
“I d-don't understand,” stammered the Desgeega.
“The one person you hate above all others, silly.” Even from where she lay, Madeline could imagine her daughter's knowing smile. “The one person who took everything from you. I'm going to give you the chance to even things all the way up.”
She helped guide the fallen creature's gaze to the monitors. As subtle as she could be, Madeline followed their eyes, wanting to see what her daughter wanted to show their guest. A single screen, watching Sylux's ship leave, zooming down and away from the facility – over a mountain, a desert, a forest, another mountain, up the range of that mountain to a cave. The sun rising behind them, painting stone with light.
And emerging from the cave, naked and flushed, sweaty and exhausted, Samus Aran.
- 12
- 13
- 14
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The Bergman Affair