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The Bergman Affair	By : HunterOpera Category: +M through R > Metroid Views: 48065 -:- 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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Planet YS7-23, GFDate 4034:0602
She should have been able to fight. Even now, exhausted and discarded, thrown into the dust by the very worst thing that had ever existed. Even after the humiliations, the orders, the submission that had been forced upon her. She should have been able to fight.
The only time she'd been so reduced into helplessness was when she had been a child, on K2-L. She'd been scared of the Chozo until they'd told her the truth of themselves. She'd lost her fear then, only to relearn it when her family and her world burned, her parents eaten to feed the hatred of a monster older than time.
She'd been chosen. Honed. Trained. She'd saved the galaxy a dozen times over, fought against atrocious insanity carried on tourmaline wings and had been the only person to ever beat him in direct combat. Some others had done it, hundreds of their dead and dying left scattered across a hundred thousand battlefields.
But she was Samus Aran, the Hunter, and she had been destined to save everything.
Her destiny had never seemed further from her than it did right now.
Ridley had been so careful not to draw blood. The pain she felt was like a hundred thousand paper cuts etched into her skin, the lines so thin that they could only just be noticed. They were the sort of thing that stung but would otherwise not be noticed on their own, but in their multitude...
Samus shivered, grit her teeth, glared at her hand. Four fingers and a thumb. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she curled her fingers into a fist, the slightest pull of muscle and tendon sending fresh waves of searing agony through her.
No matter the hurt, she did not cry out. Green and golden lightning spilled into the sky around her, nuclear fire belching out to meet it. Two of her greatest enemies were fighting over top of her and all she could be right then was a mouse at the foot of giants.
Hissing, she turned her knuckles towards the ground, pushing up, one strong arm allowing holding all her weight. She grimaced as she lifted her head forcing herself to look at the obscene tableau playing out before her, the atrocity of what was happening.
Ridley, in the body of a Zebesian. She knew him instantly. The Chozo had explained to her the true nature of her enemy, how his soul could move from one body to the next, infecting the weak-willed. If he left a body voluntarily he could choose his next victim, but only after he had reached maturity. Otherwise, he was cast into the galaxy and ended up somewhere random, trapped again until he was fully formed.
He was vulnerable right now, not fully grown.
Sylux was still no match for him.
The other Hunter was a mystery to Samus. She knew that Sylux hated her, the Federation, and and Pirates alike. He'd taken jobs for all three provided those jobs destabilized one of the others, but he mostly kept to the outskirts of civilized space, preferring the rough and tumble outer worlds where chaos reigned.
Samus had only fought Sylux a handful of times, but she had a healthy respect for what the other Hunter was capable of. The Shock Coil was a powerful weapon, and the Hunter's talent for lying traps with a variety of explosives made her a force to be feared.
Traps never worked on Ridley. He always sensed them, always knew exactly where they were. He sometimes walked into them anyway, his happiness in the destruction he could cause and his confidence in his own ability to slaughter his way out making him entirely unafraid.
He was still holding the clone on his erection with one hand, forcing her to ride him as he vomited the fires of hell at Sylux. Sylux strafed, clearly trying to keep the clone alive.
Samus pulled a knee underneath her hip, managing not to cry out. She knew that Sylux would have to get in close. With luck, that would give her the chance she needed...
As powerful as the Shock Coil was, it had never been meant to be a precise weapon. He was being forced to aim wide, allowing Ridley to sidestep the lightning with relative ease.
He, on the other hand, even without being fully evolved, could cast the nuclear fire from his mouth. It was not as hot as it would be, but it would still turn all but the strongest steel to slag.
Sylux was moving closer to Ridley. In the armor, he towered over the not-yet Dragon, probably believed himself to be stronger. That might even be the case, but Samus had no doubt her nemesis would have some means of overcoming all the powers that Sylux possessed.
When he got close enough, Sylux reached out and grabbed the Zebesian that Ridley had possessed. The not-yet Dragon laughed, letting the clone fall off his erection and doing nothing else, but the other Hunter staggered, dropped to his knees, something Samus could not guess at passing between them.
Ridley reached down with both hands, talons curving around the Hunter's head, pulling the helmet off. A pale skinned black haired woman stared up at him with hatred, her hair soaked with sweat as Ridley's fingers pushed their way between the mechanical carapace and flesh that waited within.
“So nice of you. to join us,” Ridley crooned, forcing his hands in, breaking the Hunter's shell. “Perhaps you'd like to tell our dear friend. Samus Aran, how the Damara that used to worship her became. the Sylux that despises her so badly.”
Samus' eyes went wide as the girl within Sylux's armor turned to look at her, dark eyes narrowing to slits, hatred in them where once there had been wonder. She knew this girl. She had saved her life. How had the girl she'd known devolved into this...?
Damara of Jigrad, Life and Times
At First: a small girl, eight years old, an unimportant child on an unimportant planet called Jigard. Quiet life, good family, an outer colony, outliers on the farside of Terran space, far from the frontlines of the war. Sadly, no one told the Zebesians that. Her family murdered, the adults captured, the elderly killed. Children forced to walk past a light line, measured for height. Those not tall enough to serve as slaves to be slaughtered on the spot.
A small girl. Eight years old. The boy behind her is crying for his mother, but she can do nothing. The mayor's son, six years old, two children in front of her, too small. They tear him apart and eat him, bones and all. The girl directly in front of her, just tall enough, pushed along with the other children to work the small crevices in the deep dark mines. A death sentence.
Damara. Pushed forward. No family, no friends, death now if too short, death later if just tall enough. Not tall enough. They're going to rip her apart. They're going to eat her. Bones and all. Eight years old. An unimportant girl on an unimportant planet.
Samus Aran. Golden, crimson, an angel come from above. The monsters that slaughtered a little girl's world are destroyed in glorious violence. Damara, on the ground, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Saved. Saved.
Later: on Daibon, sponsored by a private party to go through the Federation's training. Side by side with aliens. Difficult to get along with other humans, they all have families. Safer with aliens; they don't question her pain. Don't know how damaged she is. Twelve years old and so very bright.
The psychologists note her anger. She wants to go into the military. They try to dissuade her, but she's good, so very good, and there's a war on. They let her in. She excels. Top of her class. Sixteen years old and running seniors through practice combat. A ninety percent win ratio.
Evaluation. Good head for tactics, sometimes loses sight of long term goals. Good enough. So very good. So very skilled. Decorated, chosen, sponsored. Early graduation – eighteen years old, others getting the diploma are four years her senior. Still closer with more aliens than humans.
Keaton, the new Chairman, coming to visit. She's taken aside to bring him a gift. High honor. The flowers she brings have been replaced by pirate forces. It's a trap. A Desgeega Assassin. So strong, too close, cloaked in and now there, filled with drugs to make it stronger and more violent. They're all going to die.
Samus Aran. Golden, crimson, an angel from above. The Desgeega destroyed in moments, a half dozen of the Federation's finest killed in action. Damara watches, looking at men and women she's tried to be like.
She knows now that they are not strong enough.
Later On: Chairman Keaton has given her a gift, an animal that he says once belonged to Samus Aran. She adopts the animal, speaks to it, learns that it is a native from Zebes. Does that mean Samus is a Zebesian? Keaton says no; Samus is Terran, granted power by the Chozo.
Damara thinks on this. An unimportant girl, the top of her class, one of the best soldiers the Federation has ever produced. She saw the best torn to pieces by a single Desgeega. Her best, their best, it is not good enough. The only reason they're winning the war is because of Samus Aran.
A Terran boy who still has parents has the audacity to tell her to get over the death of hers. He's mocking colonists that have come to serve. He thinks he's better. Before she can fix that, Samus' animal attacks him. He wants her gone. He has so many powerful friends.
Keaton shields her. The Chairman of the Federation has taken an interest in her life. Samus' pet is put down just before she leaves on her zero mission. The boy dies shortly thereafter under mysterious circumstances.
Damara is forced to leave Daibon. An unimportant girl who will never wipe the blood off her hands or the suspicion from the minds of others.
Later Still: a mercenary, doing the best she can. Working as a sniper and tactician for a mercenary company on the outer planets. No longer trusting the Federation, but Zebesians and the pirates are still the enemy.
A Terran approaches her, a high ranking Colonel named Sakamoto. Her sponsor, he says, from way back when. Also the one funding her company. He says the Federation has been developing a secret suit of armor. He says that she is the one they want.
He says they can make her just like Samus Aran.
Even Later: on her knees, hips bound to ankles, hands and elbows bound behind her back. She's covered in sweat. This is part of the training, they tell her. They're lying. They want her to be a slave, just like the Zebesians wanted her to be a slave. They're testing new means of coercion, pleasure instead of pain.
Orgasm after orgasm, each more mind-shattering than the next. Laughing faces behind her, images leaking out of the plants around her, implanting images into her subconscious. Training for the suit. Training for control. An unimportant girl driven to the point of madness.
Trying and failing to catch her breath in the time the machine reset. Trying to keep her eyes closed, to block out the sounds. The machine begins and she moans, twitching, eyes opening. Visions assail her, voices leaking in, subliminal controls.
An unimportant girl, fighting for her identity. She is stronger than this. She can fight. The machine begins, brings her to the cusp of cumming and then stops. She whimpers. It does it again. She is told to stop resisting. She doesn't. The edge and nothing. No release. No relief. She stops fighting.
Samus Aran. Golden, crimson, an angel from above. Why has Samus forsaken her? All her life, Damara has wanted to be like her. She's never felt further from her goal. Samus couldn't take this. Samus would falter. Samus is no better than she is. She'll prove it.
And Last: a mistake. She takes advantage of it and escapes. Kills her way to the armor. Claims it, activates it. She knows how it works. Everyone dies and she escapes. There's a war on and she enters it, fights in it, now the angel she always dreamed of being.
They're hunting her. Damara died back at the base. She knows officially she was never at the base. An unimportant girl from an unimportant world. Dead and forgotten. Someone calls her Sylux. She doesn't know what it means but she likes the sound. She adopts it.
Sylux. Twilight and emerald, the name is a whisper, a mysterious angel of wrath and death. The Federation falters and dies where she walks. The Zebesians and the Pirates burn. She seeks out Samus Aran, the only unit of measurement that matters. No one knows who she really is, but that only works to her advantage.
The war ends. A voice reaches out to her, meets with her. A scientist on the run from the Federation. An unimportant girl. They talk and reach an accord. She was never good at the long term, but the scientist is. She needs someone like Sylux, though. She needs her.
Neither of them unimportant, not anymore. Sylux and Melissa, the best of friends.
Planet YS7-23, GFDate 4034:0602
Melissa could do nothing but watch as the monster tore into her only friend. The destruction of the armor didn't bother her – Melissa had helped with the original design and was sure she could repair the suit – but the girl inside was one of a kind, possessed of the perfect combination of trauma and skill to make the armor work.
That was what Melissa told herself, anyway. The simple truth of the matter was that she did not want to see her friend suffer any more than she already had.
Want of him still throbbed in her mind, between her thighs. The pleasure he had inflicted on her was addictive, proof of the theories that she had been arguing for since her mother had first touched her. Gritting her teeth and closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and turned her psychic awareness on herself.
Hunting memories, she found the neurons that had etched Ridley's rape of her into her mind. She carefully cut around the memories, excising the feeling, making the memory into a story that someone else had told her, a story shared and understood without being felt.
Gasping, she opened her eyes, her mind clear. There was a subroutine the Chozo had programmed into the original Mother Brain. The scientists that had crafted her had copied that without understanding what it was, and she had barely understood it herself until she had escaped.
Opening her eyes, she took stock of what was happening around her, needing that information to decide what to do next.
Ridley had abandoned her, was kicking Damara. She rolled and got to her knees, rolled and got to her knees. Every time she stopped moving he was on top of her, ripping off another piece of armor, exposing just a little more of her friend.
Damara kept trying to fight back, but one of the first things that Ridley tore out was the central power battery. The suit could hold a small charge after that, but it was fading quickly. There was enough power in the weapons arm to fire the Shock Coil maybe twelve times if they were lucky, but Ridley had torn that off after the helmet and tossed it aside.
Melissa looked at where it had fallen, briefly considered running to claim it herself. She dismissed the idea quickly; she had never been able to fire a normal pistol properly, never mind something that heavy or powerful. She lacked the strength or skill to do that.
She could use telekinesis to augment her strength or speed, but something like Ridley would wear her down long before she could defeat him – at most, she'd be able to force him to a stand off, and that was if she were truly lucky. She'd been able to handle the Federation soldiers when they'd try to take her easily enough, at least the first wave, but after that she'd been forced to-
Melissa smiled. A single mental command was sent and received.
Ridley was too busy with Damara to notice.
If he had wanted to kill all or any of them they wouldn't have had this chance – but Ridley was no mere killer. He wanted to destroy them, to make use of what she had built to end all life, every where. Melissa had seen the shape of his mind, knew that he his senses picked up every thought, scent, breath, and word. Nothing escaped his notice and he couldn't shut it out, could only just manage to focus on one thing at a time.
All of it combined had driven him insane.
“The lies you. tell yourself,” Ridley crooned, kicking Damara into the dirt again, standing over her. None of her armor was left. “You are as unimportant now as you. were when you were eight years old and. living on Jigard.”
He played to the fears of others, knowing the truth of them at a glance. He could taste souls – most telepaths could only hear minds, and that was more than enough to give most headaches. As powerful as she was, Melissa had never possessed such a talent and would never be able to develop it; such a thing should not have been possible.
She dared not try to communicate with Damara, not when Ridley was focused on her. She closed her eyes, focusing, willing the aid she had summoned to come quicker. Even as he was, few things were powerful enough to fight the atrocity that was Ridley.
Melissa had not summoned a single thing. She had summoned a multitude.
An army of robots marched forward, shaking the ground as they came. Their weight and numbers would have been enough to give any enemy pause. Ridley was holding Damara aloft by the throat when they arrived, ignoring the kicks she struck him with, his penis sheathed beneath a Zebesian carapace.
He whispered a word to her and dropped her, that single word making her eyes go wide and her body go limp. Melissa remembered the words he had whispered to her, sharing a fraction of what he was over space – he had only been able to do that because she'd opened herself to him, but at this distance he could infect others with his thoughts.
She waited until he was marching towards the robots, rubbing his hands. He had to know what it was that she had planned; the only reason to turn his back on them was because he knew they had nowhere to run, that there was nowhere they could go. All she had managed to do was delay the inevitable at the cost of six hundred robots.
Crawling to Damara, she cradled her friend in her arms and tried to provide what comfort she could. She glanced to where he mother had been discarded, the naked woman that had named her and held her twitching on the ground.
She looked at Samus. The former Hunter, the reason that all of this was happening, seemed to have crumbled from beg, was only just managing to hold herself in something approaching upright.
Ridley was tearing apart the robots with his bare hands, smashing through them, surrounded by steel and electricity. They whipped him with electric tendrils and he barely noticed, fired lasers at him that singed his hide. He hissed, throwing them into one another, ripping them apart.
They would not buy her too much more time. Alone, naked, still throbbing and hungry from her rape, Melissa Bergman held her only friend and realized that there was nothing she could do to save herself.
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The Bergman Affair