CHAPTER ELEVEN: IN THE WATCHES OF THE NIGHT

	It was a good thing that James Hardy missed the council meeting. Seeing 
everyone else leave like that probably would have given him a heart 
attack.
	Actually, he was in his quarters, praying desperately that somehow he 
would be given the strength and wisdom (two things he lacked) to fight 
the Kihunters. 
	Houston was looking over what was left of his quarters, and seceretly 
wished that he hadn’t bought that window apartment. 
	His living space was not hit directly by a bomb (If it had, it would 
not be there), but one of the explosions destroyed the entire place from 
the inside out. Luckily, the exterior wall as not ruptured, and a lot of 
it was still salvageable. But still, Houston did not relish the fact 
that not only was he using a rental ship, but he would probably have to 
live in a hotel for a while.
	Chairman Keaton entered his totally untouched home and greeted his wife 
and children with a little less than his normal enthusiasm. With the 
exception of his family and a few close friends, Keaton was totally 
alone. There was no one who was with him. Everybody was marching towards 
destruction with open arms, as though their mothers were giving them 
teddy bears. Didn’t they understand? Couldn’t they see that this new foe 
was not the type to take prisoners, or accept a surrender? Chairman 
Keaton finally managed to find some consolation in that incredible 
comforter, sleep.
	Samus returned to find her apartment to find it to be a complete wreck. 
Good, the assualt didn’t damage it at all, she thought, Someday I’ll 
have to clean this place up.
	She made a routine check for monsters under the bed (Ever since that 
Ridley incident, she had beenmore careful about that), and dozed off 
before she reached the pillow.
	Gul’Gen didn’t necessarily like the apartment that the Federation gave 
him, but he had to make do. There was just too much technology. Although 
he praised Ridley’s courage in saving his life, Gul’Gen secretly 
distrusted him. It wasn’t based on anything solid, but how Ridley was 
always there at just the right place at the right time was uncanny. What 
was the worm up to this time? Ah, well. All will be found out soon.
	Ridley entered his spartan quarters. Now that he was out of that 
miniature hospital, he could get back to business.
	He pulled out a small laptop and typed a few archaic letters from his 
original language.
	A picture of the master appeared.
	“Look, sir, I do not know how long I can keep this up. Samus is on to 
me, and suspicions are mounting among others. Help me here.”
	“YOU HAVE GOTTEN ALL OF THE HELP THAT YOU WILL EVER NEED. HOW YOU USE 
THAT HELP IS UP TO YOU. WE SENT YOU HERE TO BE AS OUR HAND, AND YOU MUST 
LIVE UP TO THOSE STANDARDS. OTHERWISE... YOU KNOW THE CONSEQUENCES.”
	The computer shut off by itself, and Ridley breathed a nervous sigh. 
Putting a stake in every claim is much harder than it looks.

			CHAPTER TWELVE: PROJECT CEERN(I)	

	The sun rose again on Tsebnash. Yippedey yay. The sky turned red early 
and stayed that way. Whoop-tey fizz. Slowly activity on the planet 
started up again. Yadda yadda yadda.
	Locuthis Schneider was not impressed. In fact, he was absolutely bored. 
Nothing big had happened in quite a while (nothing that he was involved 
in, at least), and he was starting to tire of The Master’s perfectly 
consistent personality. But then, today, he would have been happy if he 
had so much as that.
	Yesterday Ridley alerted the possibility of his discovery, but this had 
gone basically unnoticed. The Master was currently preoccupied with 
something secret, and Kihunters are not good conversation partners.
	If only The Master would crawl out of whatever little hole he had 
hidden in, and start something!
	As if on cue, a door opened in the cliffside behind Schneider, and 
you-know-who stepped out in his full stereotypic-villain glory.
	“SCHNEIDER. COME.” Not much for subtlety, was he?
	Schneider made a clumsy about-face and replied in the usual form 
response.
	“Yes, Master.” He almost felt like slugging whoever it was who told The 
Master to require everyone to say that same phrase before obeying an 
order (he suspected Ridley).
	“YOU ARE REQUESTED TO WITNESS THE TRIAL RUN OF PROJECT CEERN.”
	“What?”
	“YOU WILL KNOW SOON.”
	Before Schneider could think of which alien alphabet had Ceern in it, 
he was rushed through the planet’s vast network of caverns, down beyond 
his normal security clearance, and into a small observation room looking 
in on a relatively dark cavern.
	Several little guys in white coats (the tradition prevails) were 
already there, and one of them greeted both with too much exuberance.
	“Welcome! My Master, and you (whatever your name is)! I am pleased to 
report that project Ceern is ready for a trial-”
	“I know, we know, just get on with it!” Schneider snapped. Someone 
missed his coffee this morning (and probably gave it to that little tech 
guy).
	“DO YOU HAVE A TEST SUBJECT?”
	“Yes, sir!
	“THEN BEGIN.”

				*		*		*

	Corporal Phil Maynard waited patiently in his cell, rehearsing his 
speech on how he would never give in, never betray his galaxy, yadda 
yadda yadda (I love that phrase).
	Up until a week ago he had been leading fleets of ships against the 
Kihunter threat. Up until a week ago he had been fearlessly defending 
Mother’s apple pie.
	Then he stepped in to one of the most obvious ambushes possible.
	Well, he wasn’t going to give in to their interrogation, that was for 
sure. 
	So why hadn’t they interrogated him yet? Why had they simply kept him 
there, regardless of the fact that he had valuable information in his 
head?
	He got his answer.
	The cell door opened slowly, revealing two Kihunters, and some sort of 
lumbering humanoid.
	“Master says you’re to come.” Not a very articulate humanoid, but a 
humanoid.
	The Kihunters unchained Corp. Maynard, and he thought for a second 
about running for daylight. Of course, he would have made it about three 
yards, so that thought was quickly abandoned.
	They led him for what seemed like forever until he was quickly thrust 
into a relatively dark room with a very large mirror (I wonder what that 
could be for?).
	He stood for a while in silence, wondering what he was supposed to do. 
	Then he heard it.
	A tiny shriek, nothing much, but still an audible shriek. Something 
swooped low past his head, but flew away before he could get a good look 
at it.
	All thoughts of bravery aside, Corp. Philip Maynard threw himself into 
the one-way mirror, trying to break it. He failed miserably.
	The shriek went about an octave lower, and he turned around to see what 
caused it. He let out a small yelp. As the new horror closed in upon 
him, he screamed, over and over again: 
	“NOT POSSIBLE! NOT POSSIBLE! NOT...”

	Schneider, watching this, looked over at The Master and inquired, “How 
did you do that?”
	“MODERN TECHNOLOGY.” was his answer.
	Maybe it wasn’t going to be a boring day, after all!

				*		*		*

	“So, What’s the news on Iornat?” Samus asked Keaton.
	The chairman looked grim. “We have managed to keep the first wave of 
Kihunters at bay, although the situation looks bleak when they return. 
What were you expecting? You and I both know that we’re losing this war, 
and the best that we can do is hold them at bay.”
	“Well, I could pull one of those famous solitary misions to the 
planet.”
	“Don’t even think about it. Tsebnash has more security than you could 
dream of. Besides, remember how your last mission went.”
	Samus could not help but remember. She had been sent to rescue the last 
Metroid, but failed completely. Although she had been hailed as a hero 
for finally destroying the Mother Brain, the hatchling had died. All of 
the Metroids had died. Their remarkable ability to produce energy was 
gone forever. She knew what a mission to Tsebnash would probably mean.
	“Look, right now I don’t care if I survive. All that I care about is 
the outcome of this war. Over the last few months it’s become obvious 
that if we lose, there won’t be much of us left to start a revolution in 
the future. We have only one shot at this, and frankly I don’t care if I 
have to give my life in order to do it!”
	A voice came from the doorway. “Very heroic, but I don’t think that it 
will last you.”
	They both turned around.
	“Ridley!” Keaton said.
	“In the flesh,” He replied, “I’m just here to give you the latest news 
on Iornat. It seems that the Kihunters returned with twice their earlier 
army. I’m sorry to say that we’ve lost another planet.”
	“What?” They both shouted in unison.
	“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Ridley said quite calmly, “Now, if 
you’ll excuse me, I have to leave now. Go now, fight well, and whatever 
else you want to believe. Ciao!”
	After Ridley left, Keaton turned towards Samus.
	“Follow him. I don’t trust him anymore.” Keaton whispered.
	“You mean that you actually trusted him?” Samus said in moderate 
surprise.

				*		*		*

	Ridley went from Keaton’s office back to his quarters.  He checked to 
make sure that he wasn’t followed, adnd shut the door (with about ten 
locks).
	He pulled out his little laptop computer and contacted The Master 
again.
	“Look,” he said, dispensing of all formalities, “I need some help here, 
perhaps a few more moles in this group. I think that I’m losing their 
trust, and without that this entire part of the plan is going to fail. 
What do you want me to do, anyway?”
	The Master didn’t respond. His face disappeared from the moniter, and 
as a reply to Ridley’s message, the computer let out a series of shrill 
beeps, slowly speeding up.
	Ridley let out about fifteen expletives as he tried to find somewhere 
to dump his old computer.
	He opened the garbage chute and dumped it in.
	He waited for approx. ten seconds before hearing a muffled boom 
erupting from the waste-disposal unit below.
	“Now what am I supposed to do?” he muttered to himself.
		“Give up.” came a voice from behind him.
	Ridley turned and found himself looking down the barrel of Samus Aran’s 
arm cannon. 
	“Keaton gave me full access to your room,” she said, “I’m not even 
waiting for an explanation.”
	Ridley threw her aside like a rag doll and went for the door.
	He heard the sound of two wave beam blasts being shot.
	The first hit the wall beside his head. The second hit him squarely in 
the back.
	Ridley felt it burn the area between his wings with pure agony, and 
tripped on the doorjamb.
	Samus stepped beside him and levelled her gun to his eye.
	“Move and all that Hardy’ll find will be shoelaces.”
	“I don’t have shoelaces, you dolt!” Ridley shouted, as he threw Samus 
again and took off once more. He took to the air despite the 
slowly-numbing pain in his back.
	He ripped off a ceiling panel and set the insides on fire.
	Let’s see if you can handle a conflict of interest, Sammy girl!
	The entire portion of the ceiling erupted into flame. That’s the easy 
thing about space stations: you just have to know where to hit them.
	Samus ran out of Ridley’s quarters, saw the fire and hesitated for a 
moment. Fugitive, or electrical damage?
	As she fired her ice beam into the flames, Samus thought for a minute, 
and relized that people like Ridley can’t stay hidden for long. He’ll 
show up. And when he does, Samus finished her thought by shooting a hole 
in the wall.
			CHAPTER THIRTEEN: FAMILY TIES

	“What on Earth happened here?” Houston tended to use phrases that 
originated on Earth. He did, after all, grow up there. His accent, 
though, was relatively indiscernable. It sounded like an average 
American accent.
	“A rat slipped out of his trap,” Samus almost growled, “How could he do 
this to us?” Her tone was rising, “Doesn’t he see that he’s dooming the 
entire galaxy by doing this? And he’s not helping himself, either. I 
heard his conversation with The Master, and it doesn’t seem as though 
Ridley has any job security there, either.
	“Houston, I hate that dragon!” She was shouting now, “Beyond anything 
else that I’ve known before!
	“I mean, at least the Mother Brain tried to hold the Kihunters back!” 
Her tone changed noticably.
	“The next time that I see Ridley, one of us will die.”
	Houston stepped back a little.
	“Then I guess that I’d better not wear that dragon suit on Halloween!”
	“On what?”
	“It’s an Earth holiday. You wouldn’t know.”	
	Samus laughed. She couldn’t help it. Armstrong Houston’s humor always 
got her laughing.
	“It it anything like that Christmas you keep mentioning, Army?”
	“Army?”
	“It’s everybody’s knickname for you. You wouldn’t know.”
	Samus walked away, leaving a puzzled Houston in the middle of the 
hallway.
	“Army?” He repeated to thin air, puzzled.
	“Nah.” He finally let out and tried to catch up with his friend. 

				*		*		* 
	Gul’Gen spent the day in meditation. He could not believe that he had 
been fooled. As an old Chozo priest, he could always tell the innermost 
heart of any living creature. So why had it failed this time? He did 
remember seeing some darkness in Ridley, but not this much at all. Were 
his abilities failing? What was happening? He did know one thing, 
though. It was time. It was finally time to tell the truth.

				*		*		*
	The Master had lost interest in comprehending “beauty.” Now that It was 
winning everything, nothing more mattered. Three more systems had fallen 
in as many days. Schneider didn’t seem bored anymore, at least, even 
though he hadn’t left the planet since that last incident.
	The Master was hooked up to The Control, a facade for its other person.
	The Master was a dual person.
	One part physical, one part mental.
	The Control was set up to house the mental part.
	However, even if you destroyed The Control and the body, The Master 
would still live on. There was only one way to do that, and that little 
feat was beyond any mortal.
	The idiot dragon did not matter anymore. He was evidently lost 
somewhere in space, and would be dealt with later. All that mattered was 
the next goal: the beginning of the end.
	The Master was through playing. It would end soon. And when it ended, 
The Master would stand on top of the fallen, and claim the galaxy as Its 
own. Then would come the next galaxy. And the next. And then the next.
	Soon The Master would finally own what was Its given right, anyway.
	Schneider entered the Control Room, fully suited up.
	“What do you want from me now?” He was slowly losing that wonderful 
tone of respect. No matter. It is easy to reinstate those feelings in 
any human individual; weak little frogs.
	“YOU ARE REQUIRED TO GO BACK TO THE HOME OF THE IMPORTANT GREEN PERSON 
AND DO A FEW FAVORS FOR US.”
	“So you want me to go to the Alpha Centauri station and kill a few 
people.”
	“PRECISELY.”
	
				*		*		*

	Gul’Gen walked up to Samus Aran in the hallway. He didn’t know how he 
knew, but he knew that now was the exact time to tell Samus who her 
brother was. The Old Bird was completely aware of the inherent corniness 
of the situation, but didn’t care. He had a family to reunite.
	He walked up to Samus, “My child, I have something for you.”
	Samus turned around and stooped a bit to be at eye level with her old 
mentor.
	“Yes, Old Bird? What is it?” She said sounding like a little girl 
listening to her father speak.
	Before Gul’Gen could answer, however, several alarms sounded. Some very 
clumsy intruders were on the station (no one with a hint of carefulness 
would trip the alarms)!
	“Sorry! Have to go!” Samus said, almost while running. Ah, well. There 
was always tomorrow.
	She was on her way back to her apartment to suit up when she ran in to 
a really familiar face: Locuthis Schneider.
	“And just what do you think you’re doing?” Samus asked.
	“You’ll see,” Schneider said.
	
	James Hardy sat in his office, reading Sandwhiches weekly,(explanation 
unneeded), and eating something very similar to the article of food on 
the front cover when the alarm sounded.
	Hardy put down the magazine, grabbed the gun under the counter, and 
waited.
	Before long three Kihunters burst in, and only then did Hardy realize 
the amount of trouble he was in.
	
	Chairman Keaton was already cornered by the time the alarm sounded.

	Armstrong Houston was already in his suit when he heard the alarm, and 
he was currently fighting off bugs without number, thinking, Where is 
Samus? over and over again.

	Schneider took a step closer to Samus.
	“My offer still stands.” He said in a very smooth manner that made 
Samus want to throw up.
	Samus took a few steps closer to him.
	“What do you want the answer to be?” She said also very smoothly.
	“I would like you to come back to Tsebnash with me. It’s getting very 
lonely there. I could really use someone to...” 
	Schneider stopped. He hadn’t fallen off the hay wagon yesterday. Unless 
Samus was on drugs, she wouldn’t be answering him this way.
	Samus moved a step closer, “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, moving a lot 
closer, “That’s fine by me.”
	Schneider gave up all common sense and put his blaster back in its 
holster. He grabbed Samus by the shoulders and attempted to kiss her, 
only to find that a very sharp pain, much like the one last time, was 
slowly travelling up his body. He had fallen for itagain.
	Samus Aran took Schneider’s gun and used the barrel to push him over, 
where he remained for the next five minutes, wondering if you stop 
feeling the pain once you’ve been hit there enough.
	
	Houston turned and blasted three more Kihunters, amazed at how many 
there were.
	After making sure that the last one was not even twitching, he turned 
around ad met one approx. three inches from his face.
	It hissed slightly. Houston could smell its acid breath.
	He immediately raised his arm cannon to shoot, but the Kihunter grabbed 
it and forced it back down. 
	It picked him up by the shoulders. Houston tried to utter a muffled 
scream as one of its arms pierced his shoulder completely through. The 
pain was intense.
	It pulled its arm out, producing even more agony than before. It raised 
the arm again, aiming for his head.
	Houston silently uttered one last prayer before the arm came down. 
Hard.
	But instead of impaling Houston’s head, the Kihunter’s arm went into 
the floor. The Kihunter itself slowly realized that it had no head and 
followed its arm. Behind it was Hardy.
	“Hardy?” Houston coughed out, “What are you doing here?”
	“Saving your life,” hardy said as he lifted Houston up and carried him 
out of the fight.

	Samus stepped out of her apartment. She was in her suit now, and ready 
to liquidize anything in her way.
	She set her beam to hyper, and got to work.

	If only she had known the Kihunter swarm’s actual purpose.
	Several Kihunters with something strapped to their backs entered what 
was formerly Ridley’s quarters (it hadn’t been cleared out yet), and 
lined up along the walls. One of them took the center. 
	Ten seconds later, there was a huge explosion, and the remaining 
Kihunters (including Schneider) left without any more business. They 
were finished with their little piece of business.

			CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE DISK

	“Okay, everyone! Damage check!”
	Keaton was not in a mood to wait to hear everything slowly. After he 
shot down four of the Kihunters, he felt kind of rushed.
	“Minor damage to the station, seventeen soldiers dead, and one 
injured.”
	“Does he have a name, Hardy?”
	“Armstrong Houston, chairman. Luckily no bones were broken. It’s just 
an incredibly huge flesh wound. Won’t last long.”
	“We also found something else, sir,” Samus added, “Ridley’s former 
quarters were decimated.”
	“Good. I was wondering how we were going to clean that mess up. But why 
would they want to destroy that room and not the others?”
	Chairman Keaton already knew the answer, and did not need Samus to 
explain.

	Samus and keaton entered Ridley’s room.
	“Are you sure that you want to come in here. The remnants might still 
be dangerous.”
	“And your point is?”
	“Got it.”
	The searched for a while through the rubble before declaring it all 
worthless.
	“It’s all destroyed. All of it,” Samus finally said in frustration, 
eyeing the burnt up remains of everything, “Whatever could’ve been of 
any use before is now...” 
	She cut herself off. Below he, on the floor, was a single yellow 
computer disk that read; SAMUS (In Ridley’s messy handwriting).
	Something had survived (hee hee!)
	
				*		*		*

	Samus loaded the disk into the computer. Keaton, Hardy, and Gul’Gen 
stood near he, to read whatever was on it (Houston was still in the 
hospital).
	It was a single message that read:

	Samus Aran,
	Under the circumstances in which you would be reading this, either you 
have just attended my funeral, or currently you do not like me right 
now. That is understandable, as I am a depraved little rat (an Earth 
creature; ask Houston).
	Somewhere around twenty-three years ago (forgive me if I’m wrong) I was 
leading a small group of Zebesian Space Pirates on a raid of a nearby 
planet. The goal was simple: Wipe out the Federation settlement there.
	Shortly after we accomplished our little endevour, I personally eturned 
to that planet to check for survivors. There were two. A young boy and a 
young girl.
	The girl was already taken care of by the Chozo, so I paid her no heed. 
The boy (in one of my rare fits of kindness) I took to the adoption 
center on Earth. 
	From time to time I have checked on you both, amazed at how quickly you 
found each other without even knowing it.
	That little boy was Armstrong Houston.
	Samus Aran, your brother is Armstrong Houston.
	Armstrong Houston is Solomon Aran.
	There I’ve said it, and now you know. I suspect that the Old Bird 
knows, too. Not much escapes him. Do not tell Houston just yet, but 
promise on my grave (I am pretty sure that this is at my funeral) that 
you will tell him eventually. Promise an old sinner that, at least, and 
let his soul rest.
	Enclosed is some coded information on the Kihunters and their 
illustrious Master. I am sure that you will find a use for it.
			
			Sometimes I wish that I could give you my best wishes,  
	
									Ridley

	
	Samus sat at the computer monitor in silence for several minutes. She 
looked towards Gul’Gen,
	“It is true,” He said, “I saw it happen. I was about to tell you, but 
the alarm sounded.”
	Samus did not show any extreme emotions, but a single tear ran down her 
cheek. She knew. She finally knew.
	Half of her wanted to run straight out to Houston’s hospital bed and 
tell him, but then she realized why Ridley told her to wait.
	If he knew now, he would be too distracted to fight, and fighting the 
Kihunters was the top priority now.
	Still, she wanted to tell him as soon as possible.
	They all sat in silence for a while.


			CHAPTER FIFTEEN: C-1418

	Look at what I’ve done, Ridley thought to himself, I’ve betrayed 
everything. And why? For my own personal survival. I am probably 
responsible for the deaths of millions now, and why? because I can only 
look out for myself.
	Ridley was currently situated on an asteroid, hidden from everyone and 
everything around him.
	Now you’ve done it, he thought again, you could’ve become someone, 
saved everybody. But no, you had to put a stake in ever claim, didn’t 
you? You know what, Ridley, you’re nothing but a worthless peace of 
slime mucking up the works (I could use more creative english, but I 
won’t). You’re only purpose is to destroy, to ruin. The universe would 
be better off without you.
	The universe would be better off without you.
	The universe would be better off without me.
	I hate myself.
	Ridley contemplated ending it all right there, alone in the dark. 
Alone.

				*		*		*

	“Master, you should do something about him!” 
	Schneider protested for the fourteenth time about the fact that The 
Master had let Ridley go completely.
	“He could be dangerous to us right now!”
	“HE IS OF NO MORE CONCERN TO YOU THAN HE IS TO ME. HE WILL SIMPLY CRAWL 
INTO A HOLE SOMEWHERE AND LEAVE US ALONE. KNOWING HIM, HE WILL KILL 
HIMSWELF BEFORE THE WEEK IS DONE. WE HAVE NO TIME FOR FALSE LEADS. THE 
END IS SOON.”
	“The end of what”
	“THE END OF EVERYTHING.”

				*		*		*

	“Do you think we should tell Houston?” Hardy asked.
	“No, this might be fake. There’s no sense in getting his hopes up.”
	Samus seemed cold, disturbingly so. She seemed to be ready to kill 
someone.
	“But, didn’t Gul’Gen say-”
	“He said nothing!” Samus exploded at the chief of police, “The Old Bird 
didn’t say anything! None of this is true! Ridley is a liar I swear on 
my mother’s grave that if I ever see him again, one of us will die.”
	“Samus, you might want to calm down for a minute, drink some tea, or-”
	“Shut up!” 
	Samus stormed off, leaving Hardy alone in the hallway. Hardy stood 
there for a minute, then picked up his cell phone and dialed a local 
number.
	“Doctor, I want 20 CCs of C-1418 ready for me. Wait until I arrive.”

				*		*		*

	Houston rolled over in his little hospital bed. He hated those things. 
A sharp needle of pain sprung up through his shoulder. He hated those 
even more. He reached up with his good arm and pressed the call button. 
The doctor told him to press it if he felt so much as a small twinge of 
pain. This was more like an execution.
	About twenty minutes later, when he had given up on seeing the doctor’s 
little blue face again, he finally entered.
	“You called, sir?” He said quietly. Dr. Myff was always a little too 
quiet for his proffession.
	“Yeah. You said to call you if I feel any pain. Well, right now it 
feels as though the Kihunters are waging their war inside my shoulders. 
Satisfied?
	Dr. Myff shrank a bit (as he always did) and responded quickly and 
quietly, “Thank you. I just wanted to know that. Good-bye!”
	Houston stared in shock and dismay as Dr. Myff left the room. What on 
earth...?

				*		*		*

	“Are you sure that we should be doing this? I mean, there’s enough here 
to put a Dragon under!”
	“My point exactly.” At this point, James Hardy wondered if even this 
would work on Samus. There was a specific look in her eyes that he had 
only seen once before: when the hatchling died.
	Not a good thing.
	Not a good thing at all.
	“Come on, chairman. I’ll need your help.”
	Chairman Keaton followed behind Hardy, not quite ready to abort this 
backup plan. If Hardy was right, and Samus was falling apart at the 
seams, maybe she did need to be knocked out for a few hours. Or more.

			  *		*		*

	Ridley stood over a precipice on the asteroid, contemplating whether or 
not he should jump and end it right now. He stood there, wavering, ready 
to go. He took one step and then...
	Stopped.

				*		*		*

	Samus was sitting on her bed, daydreaming of blowing up Ridley when her 
doorbuzzer rang. Annoying little thing.
	She stepped up to the door.
	“Come in,” she said, not caring who it was.
	She opened the door to Hardy, the chairman, and about four extra-large 
security guards trying to tackle her.
	Hardy appeared to be holding a hypodermic needle.
	Her survival instinct picked up and she dodged the first two guards, 
threw the third, and landed a flying kick on the fourth’s head that 
might have killed him.
	The other two regrouped and both grabbed her by an arm,.
	She flipped them back like paper dolls.
	Samus turned around, ready to pummel someone else, then suddenly felt a 
sharp pain in her side.
	She let out a yelp and collapsed on Hardy, who had just used the 
aforementioned hypodermic needle.
	“Get her off me!” Hardy shouted very loudly.
	Keaton eased Samus off him, exclaiming, “She’s not really that big! How 
heavy could she be?”
	“Muscle weighs more than fat.” He looked down at Samus, and a worried 
expression crossed his face.
	“I didn’t expect it to work that fast! Is she all right?”
	“Check for a pulse.” Keaton said, not quite worried.

				*		*		*

	“How soon is soon?” Schneider asked The Master. He had been bugging It 
for the entire day now, and had decided to be persistent to the point of 
annoying.
	The Master turned around and simply said, “SOON.”
	They both were very persistent.