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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
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- 24
- 25
So another chapter... I will, as always, respond to any and all reviews at the following address (just copy/pasta): http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/36931-metroid-the-bergman-affair-feedback-comments-and-workshopping/page-4 - usually takes me a day or two to respond, but everything gets responded to. Next chapter should be up later this week, as I'm going to try and hammer through the Desert Arc before the end of the month. In the meantime, read and enjoy...

Planet YS7-23, GFDate ????:????
A haze cutting through the air, blades of hatred that burned hotter than the sun. Light slashed into composite colors, fading, breaking, lost to sight around claws that could slice atoms to pieces. A lolling croon that seeped into the mind, tainting it, making everything that had been worse for having heard a litany of sin, a record of horror that was evil, absolute evil, speaking.
All who hear the voice know the truth of this.
Evil is real. Evil has a face.
And Evil speaks.
So much horror, so much pain, and none of it thus far in this place is intended. The seeping slithering corruption was simply a side effect of his presence, a casual malice that would only become worse the longer he was present.
Every living thing around him convulsed, even the unliving pushed away in revulsion. A glimpse of mind or truth of name had shattered the sanity of the strongest wills, left the calmest minds howling lunacy. Another name had been given to this creature, this atrocity, a whispered word rarely spoken.
Ridley.
Samus Aran stared up at her nemesis, at the only enemy that truly mattered. Here, now, was what the Chozo had trained her to fight. Exhaustion, fatigue, sense, everything left her – only the burning fury remained, the need to end this abomination torn from the worst and maddest nightmares, the ruin of a thousand thousand worlds. She pushed herself up, preparing to fight, her eyes narrowing
and then the things inside her sprang to life, driving her to the ground, leaving her writhing and wetting and unable to do anything but stare up at him, at his cruel amusement at how she had been so reduced.
The ground trembled almost as much as Samus herself when the dragon landed. Her eyes straining to focus, she whimpered as grains of sand recoiled from her enemy, his bloodless lips curled back in a smile that revealed teeth longer than fingers and sharper than glass.
“You,” Ridley crooned, the sole word dripping into the world, marking it, somehow molesting everything touched by the sound. “Cripple. you may leave.” Samus stared up at him, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I may leave?” Branningan spat, spittle brushing Samus' shoulder. She ignored it, tried to stand again and fell back to the desert sands, squirming and lost. Even now she tried to attack the dragon, rage consuming her. “Who do you think you're talking to?”
“Does it matter?” The dragon rose on his hind legs, spreading his wings, cutting light into shade. “Someone who gets to live just a little. bit. longer. Take the offer. I have. business. with the mewling little gnat. at your feet.”
“Samus belongs to me!”
“She belonged to me. first and always. for every. last. day. of her life.”
Brannigan planted one foot in the small of her back, pinning and claiming her as raised his gun. Samus could hear the mechanisms in his new arm charging, the weapon systems that he'd been granted priming themselves for battle. She knew those sounds – missiles, plasma and ice and grappling beams, maybe one or two other tricks – but she also knew that nothing would be enough.
The dragon knew it, too.
Only Brannigan languished in ignorance.
Mocking laughter flooded the spaces between them.
She tried to stand again, pushing into her palms with all her strength. The things inside her body rocked her utterly, throbbing into her with a quivering fury that drove thought from her. Gasping, she redoubled her efforts, finally succeeding.
Her heart nearly gave out when she realized that she was in the -stand- position.
Closing her eyes, she let out a long whine as angry gods towered tall above her. I was a god once, she thought, unable to do anything as Brannigan planted himself over her, preparing to unleash the onslaught of firepower that was at his disposal.
It would not be enough, she knew. It would never be enough.
The dragon flew in lazy circles, tail twitching, the blade on the end of carving ditches in the sand with casual malice. Brannigan couldn't see it, Samus thought, but even through watery eyes she could see that the grains of sand his tail touched were split and decaying.
“Do not mistake. apathy. for fear. cripple,” Ridley crooned, his smile growing, the furnace within him turning the sand below him to glass. “You're. unworthy of me.”
Grimacing, Brannigan raised one arm and opened fire.
That one action drove all hope from Samus Aran.

Planet Daibon, GFDate 4034:0512
Sergeant Victoria Timms was the best combat operative in the Federation Army to never see actual combat. She'd enlisted a few years after reaching legal age for the simple fact – if she were to be brutally honest with herself – that she had nothing better to do.
Raised a pacifist in a strict household, Victoria had nonetheless proven to have a talent for releasing the repressed violence her upbringing had instilled in her. She had little desire to go out and fight the good fight, however, or build lasting personal relationships with anyone.
Becoming a Daibon-centered drill Sergeant had thus been a perfect fit for her. She got new recruits to train every year or so, she never had to deal with the consequences of out-and-out combat, and she had the respect of her superiors and those under her. It was a sweet gig, one that required little social contact outside the professional.
And Daibon was safe. Even during the Zebesian War, Daibon had been left mostly untouched. There was the occasional terrorist act or raid, but due to the size of the place Victoria had never seen so much as a bit of smoke from a fire, or heard even the faintest echo of an explosion. She'd been left to her job, which was exactly how she liked it.
That had all changed in the past few minutes.
Government offices had been assaulted that very morning. Victoria had been on-duty when the call came, forced to head to the frontlines with the rest of the officers to take charge of the situation. The brass had been wise enough to give her a posting on the outer barricades, sending in experienced troopers to the heart of the problem.
Information was scarce; apparently, all this destruction was being caused by a single entity who had somehow managed to take down the communication servers. A massive amount of deaths were being caused by whatever was responsible for this, requiring more and more soldiers to go and look for survivors or go fight whatever it was.
Victoria was not among them. She had her post and she held it, her rifle at the ready. And when a panel in the wall opened up behind her, she was already training her rifle on the furry blue humanoid walking out of the new hole.
“Keep that rifle trained behind me, please,” the newcomer said, speaking with the higher of his two mouths. “Do you know who I am?”
“You're Chairman Keaton.”
“Excellent. I believe someone is trying to assassinate me,” Keaton said, his voice utterly calm, utterly certain. “I'm going to go that way. If you could shoot anything that follows me, then run in that direction...? Yes? Thank you.”
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“What's attacking us?” Victoria asked, licking her lips. “There's reports that it's p-purple... is it...?”
“No.” Keaton paused, staring at a stretch of wall, never turning to face her. “If it was Ridley I would be dead by now.”
The Sazin grimaced, then walked over to another wall that Victoria would have sworn was solid steel. He pressed his hand against it and twisted. The wall fell back and slid away, revealing a passage. The blue alien stepped through it, the wall closing behind him.
For a moment, Victoria stared, wide eyed, but then a blast of emerald-gold lightning tore through the wall that Keaton had come from, reducing the metal to slag. A tall purple figure emerged, emerald light tracing along the figure's armor.
“Where did the Chairman go?” The voice that emerged from the figure was cold and without inflection. Victoria opened fire, the rifle in her hand not even staggering the monster that came for her moments later.
The last thing she saw was the hand that grasped her head. A sick crackling sound filled her ears, echoing all around her, five points of pressure giving way to blinding agony. Something wet slithered down her face, her hair tangling, a rattling breath roiling out of her throat.
After that she was alone.

Moon RK18-94, GFDate ????:????
: You Saved Us : This Is Reward : You Are Grateful :
Mia Xen nodded her head, slack lips open, a sheen of sweat smoking off her skin. She remembered the room being cold when she entered, but now the heat seeping into her kept her warm, left her naked body steaming in the ambient chill.
Her neck rolled bonelessly, her eyes having trouble focusing on the red chitin of the creature that was her guide. The shoulders in her muscles tensed and she gasped as another wave of pleasure washed through her. She shook, uncontrolled, wanton, glancing at where her hands should have been.
S-something is wrong. She frowned as the words echoed in the emptiness of her thoughts, unable to make sense of them. C'mon... w-what would S-samus do?
Her hands and feet had been enveloped by mouths with hard shells and soft insides, insides that pressed into her toes and fingers, her palms and soles and wrists and ankles. Warm and gooey, she felt whatever it was slither around her, loving her, massaging her.
That same goo dripped down her arms and slithered up her legs, leaving a seething want. She wasn't sure what was causing the tingling sensation that rippled over the rest of her body and didn't care – the moans spilling from her drained all curiosity from her, leaving behind only a throbbing craving.
Her hosts were so good to her, she knew. Her hosts were trying to sate the craving that had overcome her. Her eyes closed as another wave of ecstasy washed through her, crashing down into every nerve, leaving her slick and shivering.
At first, when she was dropped down, she had no idea what was going on. She lay on the ground, quivering and naked, wondering where the pleasure had gone. Echoes of something loud pierced the pleasure-haze, the chittering feet of her hosts clacking around her.
Eventually, she managed to twitch her limbs. Frowning, she pushed herself to her hands and knees, looking around. Her clothing lay neatly folded over to one side and she crawled to it, pulling it over her flesh, moaning whenever fabric made contact with skin.
She was so sensitive! She wondered how long the Kriken had been rewarding her and smiled, rocking a little as she finished dressing and stood. She stumbled back, her legs still pulsing with the memory of what had been done to her.
Taking deep breaths, she steadied herself, hands holding onto the wall for support. She managed to stand, to walk, one foot in front of the other, brushing crimson hair out of her line of sight. The ship she was on shook and she caught herself.
Her hosts were under attack.
Eyes narrowing, she looked for and found her weapons and armor lying over to one side. She used the wall to close the distance between herself and what was hers, fingers tracing the soothing familiarity of her rifle, her pistol, her shotgun, her armor.
It took her longer than she would have liked to get her armor on and fastened. She caught a reflection of herself in the semi-translucent viscosity that covered the non-euclidean angles of her hosts' home and smiled; she looked more like one of them than she had before.
Stumbling down a corridor, she caught sight of a pitched firefight down one hallway and paused, taking a moment to study what was happening. The Kriken were valiantly trying to fend off a Vhozon assault. For some reason, the Vhozon were concentrating their attacks on floating Kaayes melons.
Weird.
Frowning, Mia dropped to one knee, took careful aim and pulled the trigger of her rifle three times. Three Vhozon heads exploded, their bodies tumbling to the ground. The rest of the Vhozon turned to face her, taking their eyes off the Kriken, and that was the end of them, falling to her headshots and the crimson insect onslaught of her hosts.
: You Are Out : Bad For Guest : Go To Room :
“No,” Mia said, staying on her knees, frowning as she shook her head. “Let me help you first.”
Antennae twitched, the Kriken conferring among one another. As one, the survivors nodded, all of their eyes on her.
: You Will Help : Reward To Follow : Accept Our Terms :
“I do,” Mia said, still on her knees, head bowed. A memory of pleasure washed over her and the only thing that kept her from going back to her room was the thought of Samus Aran. The Hunter wouldn't go back to her reward, not when there's fighting to be done.
Standing, Mia Xen sheathed her rifle and pulled her shotgun free from its holster.
The Vhozon had no idea what they were in for.
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The Bergman Affair