"YEAH!" roared Samus triumphantly, kicking her door closed behind her. "Finally! I'm going to GET EVEN! And NOTHING is going to get in the way of that! Ha!"

You are absolutely crazy.

Samus was not pleased by this subconscious revelation, and refuted it angrily by throwing herself onto her bed.

No I'm not. He started it. He is ruining my good name. He needs to take a fall here. And I'm going to be the one to knock him down.

"Yeah… knock him down… couple flights of stairs… into a vat of boiling Phazon!"

Samus took a moment to catch her breath. She let her hair down, stumbled into the bathroom, and shut herself in a hot shower. Her heart raced under the steady beat of the water as she peeled her Zero Suit off. Anxiety tore at her in a way it never had before. How had this nagging little annoyance grown to consume her? She wasn't sure. There was just something about this place that made her feel a little vulnerable, and she was not used to that at all.

"I'm a mess," she sobbed. "A mess, a mess, a mess." Samus stepped out of her shower, dried herself off, and put on a fresh Zero Suit. "But… I can clean up. I will. And I'll teach everybody that they should fear me."

"Miss Aran, please proceed to the prep room."

"I was worried you'd never ask," chortled the bounty hunter off-handedly, sauntering to her door. She passed into the prep room, where her largest piece of equipment- the Power Suit- sat peeled open like a great brass fruit. She crawled inside and the armor sealed itself over her, beginning its exchange of information with her body. It would tell her when the armor got hurt, and the armor would tell her if she got hurt. Its weapons and systems, still cutting edge, were ancient- thousands and thousands of years old. The masterpiece of the Chozo, gifted to a young Samus as their parting gift to her and the universe, so that their legacy would live on with her. Of course, it wasn't all they had left her.

Samus reached down with her now-armored hand, and scooped up her helmet- not nearly as ancient or advanced, but it got the job done. She placed it over her head and her armor snaked upwards to lock it into place, incorporating the helmet's systems into its own. She clenched her right fist, and the armor responded by folding the Arm Cannon out over its respective limb. The weapon shifted its panels, venting excess heat in its passive state.

Okay, SPARTAN. Bring it on.

The door of the prep room opened, and she stepped out into another well-lit room. The floor was metal, as were the walls, complete with exposed piping and humming vents. There was a sliding door ahead of her, and some scattered materials behind her.

"A spaceship?" she muttered to herself.

"As you two may have noticed, you are onboard a spacecraft," said the voice of the Master of Games. "But I'm afraid I can't let you two just rip each other's throats out right off. Where would be the fun in that? Where would be the entertainment? No, I've got something a little more interesting cooked up."

"You bastard!" screamed Samus, shaking a fist angrily at the air. "That's not what I wanted!"

"There are three data terminals on this ship," he continued. "Your goal will be to download a file off of each terminal. Each of those three files is part of the map of the ship. You'll need a map, because you'll want to find your way to the engine room. The whole ship has lost power, you see."

Suddenly, the lights flickered off, and the humming of the vents whined to a halt.

What an idiot. It's not like having the power off is going to stop me from finding that SPARTAN.

"And regardless of what you think, you're going to want to turn the lights back on. Toodle-oo!"

Samus tapped a panel on the side of her helmet, activating its night-vision function, while turning around and scanning her dimly-lit surroundings. The room was a supply closet of some sort, with crates scattered around the grated-metal floors and cleaning supplies in hardened cubbies along the walls.

Nothing useful here. I had better move on.

She approached the door to test if it featured an auto-open system, which it did not, much to Samus' dismay.

I guess I'll have to do things the old-fashioned way.

Samus raised her Arm Cannon and fired a Power Beam straight into the door's center, leaving the center warm and golden-brown and melting all over the place. A powerful kick buckled the weakened door outward, and Samus walked out into a darkened corridor, the heavy, pipe-laden bulkheads arranged in a hexagonal pattern, the interlocking girders hanging above like the ribcage of some long-dead animal.

"Business as usual," the bounty hunter sighed, walking onward.

***

What a stupid idea. Now I've got to deal with this.

John-117 pried another door apart, shoving his hands apart from their hold between the two sliding panels. On the other side, he found a room quite unlike the corridor it branched off of. It appeared to be a mess, in both the literal and figurative sense. Bolted-down tables had been wrenched from their mountings, and plates from the once-sealed cabinets along the walls were scattered across the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" whispered the SPARTAN, unclipping his assault rifle from his back and clicking the built-in flashlight on. He swept the weapon's sight line across the room, illuminating further damage.

Well, there are two possibilities here. Either the Master of Games added this as part of the ambience-

Something creaked against a bulkhead nearby. Master Chief swung the flashlight's beam in the direction of the sound, and found nothing.

… Or something's in here with us.

He shook his helmeted head and advanced through the mess hall towards the back of the room, which had a counter leading into what was obviously the galley. He heard- however faintly, under the sound of his armor's energy shield, his heart beat faster.

There it is again. Fear. Not something I deal with too often.

His memories flashed back to not long ago, to the last time he had felt that emotion. He sat in a more-thinly populated common hall, with a hand clenched over his helmet's visor, cold beads of sweat rolling under his armor. He had just witnessed the girl he had seen so afraid earlier snap, effortlessly wiping out his team.

This place really does bring out the worst in people, he thought, running his fingers over the place where her knife must have shattered the shatter-proof plastic.

"What are you moping around about?" asked Samus, sliding into a seat next to him. John often hung around the space marines when not attempting to assemble a halfway-balanced team. The space marines were a rowdy lot, and John was used to their type. Samus was a bit different, though. Sure, she enjoyed her tales of raids on space stations and leaping from dropships and hideous monsters just like the rest. But her braggadocio eclipsed the others by light-years. Her feats were all the more incredible, all the more daring than theirs- or perhaps it only seemed that way coming from the skintight space-suit donning bombshell. Either way, she commanded the attention of all of them with ease. For her to approach outside of that circle of peers was unexpected.

"I lost," sighed John casually.

"Come on, now," giggled Samus. "I know that's not enough to get you down. What's the real deal?"

"Well… I'm just unsure about this whole thing. It's just not right… and I'm afraid of what could happen."

"What do you mean, you're afraid? You're a big ol' SPARTAN, aren't you?"

"I may be a SPARTAN but I'm still a person, deep down. Any rational person has a right to feel fear."

"You know, I think that's more than I've ever heard you say," smiled Samus. "And I think you're right. There's plenty of things I'm afraid of."

"Really? I find that hard to believe. Or is the whole 'Ghost of the Chozo' thing an act?"

"The Ghost of the Chozo has a few secrets she likes to keep," chuckled the bounty hunter with just a touch of severity. "Maybe if you can stay in my good graces, I'll let you in on them."

"I wish she hadn't," said John aloud, vaulting over the counter and into the galley. If something tore up the mess, they were probably after what was in the galley- John figured hunting it down now would save him the trouble later. However, he still advanced with caution.

Fear is a good thing, if it keeps you alive just a little longer. That's not what it's doing for her, though.

He stepped forward and brushed against a precariously-placed cutting board, which clattered to the deck beneath his feet. The SPARTAN felt himself draw a sharp breath, his grip on the assault rifle tightening. He pointed the flashlight ahead, and saw a trail of scattered food across the floor, leading into a walk-in freezer, door rent from its hinges. John crept around the corner and advanced toward the freezer, sweeping the assault rifle's flashlight beam back and forth. Fog rolled out of the corners of the door and settled low along the deck as an ominous mist. Packages of freeze-dried food had been ripped open and discarded in a distinct trail, leading to a large pile in the corner. The pile, as John noticed, had a large open spot in its middle.

It's not there anymore.

His motion tracker began to beep excitedly, and he turned in time to hold back the creature that sprung at him from the ceiling. Claws as cold and hard as steel clamped onto his helmet, attempting to wrench his neck in directions that would not agree with his spine. Luckily for John, even his neck had benefited from his SPARTAN II augmentation, allowing him to resist long enough to use his free arm to knock the aggressor back.

"You are one ugly SOB," observed John-117 candidly. The creature that screamed back in response would probably agree, if it could see. But it had no eyes- a gaping mouth of railroad-spike teeth were the lens through which it viewed the world, and for that reason, its sole purpose was to consume. Its ebony exoskeleton reflected what little light there was, revealing a horrifying combination of suggestive curves and brutal, mechanical efficiency. The Xenomorph rose to its full height and bellowed a challenge down at the SPARTAN.

John raised his assault rifle, but the creature seemed to be aware of this, and leapt out of the line of fire before he had a chance to shoot. It clung to the wall, shrieking and thrusting its tail-blade toward the interloper. John ducked out of the way and knocked the blade back, readying his weapon once again. The Xenomorph sensed this as well and leapt across to the other wall.

So it's going to run away, is it? I can use this to my advantage.

He continued to track the alien in his sights, forcing it to leap from wall to ceiling to wall, waiting for it to realize it had run out of options.

See? You've got nowhere to run.

The Xenomorph dropped back onto the deck and immediately pounced toward John once again. But this time, the SPARTAN was ready. With a short, controlled burst, he put four rounds into the creature's oblong head. The high-pressure circulatory fluid spat outward, leaking onto the rest of the creature as it fell and sending up fumes as the corrosive acid ate away at the beast it once kept alive. Some of the pale green ichor splattered toward the SPARTAN's MJOLNIR armor, but was zapped into a fine, smoky mist by his passive energy shield.

That was close. If my armor hadn't protected me, I'd be a puddle on the floor right now.

He watched the ever shrinking corpse of the Xenomorph melt into nothing against the floor. Amazingly, the deck itself seemed immune to the acid, but John figured that this was probably a concession to the workability of his challenge- explosive decompression would put a real damper on the fight.

He turned to leave, having accomplished his goal, when his motion tracker began to beep again. Another blip began to move toward him.

Could that be Samus? It seems a little soon for her to have found me.

A second blip appeared, and then a third, and a fourth. The amount of blips began to increase steadily.

No, that's definitely not Samus. There's more of these bastards out there… which means that she'll probably run into them, too. And her armor doesn't have a shield like mine.

The shrieks of several Xenomorphs began to echo through the nearby corridors. John returned his assault rifle to the hardpoint on his back and drew his combat knife, breaking off into a sprint out of the freezer, through the galley, over the counter, past the mess and into the hallway. Several of the aliens began to drop from the ceiling into his path, but John simply lowered a shoulder and barged through them.

I made a mistake, Samus. And I'm going to try and make up for that. Hold on, I'm coming.

***

"Ha-ha, score!" laughed Samus, walking up to the data terminal. It was a small screen protruding from the wall with a few chunky buttons built into the bezel. It was also a source of light, which Samus found herself appreciating in a primal sort of way. She disengaged her night vision in order to read the screen, which displayed only a simple message:

USE CABLE FOR DATA TRANSFER.

The message could have been a little clearer, as there were two cables- one hanging off of each side of the terminal. Samus examined both plugs and determined that one would fit with her helmet, while the other she figured must be compatible with Master Chief's armors' systems. She removed her helmet and folded up her Arm Cannon, using her now-available right hand to plug the cable into the helmet's data port. A progress bar appeared, indicating that Samus would have to wait two minutes until the download was complete. She sighed and drummed her fingers along the inside of the helmet, carefully looking up and down the corridor.

It's been quiet. It won't stay that way. Not if he shows up.

Something clanked against the deck above her, causing her to twitch and instinctively reactivate her Arm Cannon, blasting her Power Beam upwards and sending a creature tumbling down from above. Samus took a quick step backward to avoid it falling onto her head, and immediately pinned it under her boot. It was a wide, insect-like creature, a mass of spindly limbs and a writhing tail all tied to a heart-shaped carapace.

"Okay, wasn't expecting a visit from you," growled the bounty hunter. She slipped her still-plugged-in helmet back on and activated its scan program, analyzing the struggling creature.

"So you're some sort of parasite, huh?" asked Samus of her guest. "And you're just the first form of your species? Oh boy. This'll be fun."

She applied more pressure to her foot and crushed the creature under her heel, splattering her armor with the acidic blood. Her armor did its job, and reported the damage back to her central nervous system as excruciating pain, causing her to fling herself backwards at the wall.

DOWNLOAD COMPLETE, stated the data terminal. Samus dislodged the cable from her helmet in a panic and stumbled off of the wall, attempting to snap herself out of the pain-induced daze.

"Open file," she hissed into her helmet, and her HUD was replaced by a 3D map of the ship- or at least a third of one. She glanced over it briefly, committing the most important notes to memory. There were crew quarters and a sick bay nearby, but neither of those gave her any bearing on where the engine rooms might be. Her only choice was to head into unmarked territory and hope to find another terminal, or her target. She closed down the map and observed her smoldering leg armor, the outer polished surface having been peeled off by the creature's blood.

I wouldn't want to deal with any more of that. If it dug any deeper, who knows what it could do to my armor.

She turned to continue on her way, and ran directly into the chest of the Xenomorph warrior that had come to stand in the center of the hallway.

"Well, hello there," grunted Samus, charging a Power Beam. "I don't suppose you could help a dumb blonde with directions?"

The creature howled, and drove its inner mouth directly at Samus' frontal lobe. This did nothing, as there happened to be a helmet in the way, and ended up looking rather silly.

"Oh, you don't speak Galactic Common?" whimpered the bounty hunter mockingly. "Then I'll just head down the road and find somebody who does."

She leapt backwards, somersaulted in midair, and initiated the command for her Morph Ball mode. Her armor shifted around her, and she curled into as tight of a fetal position as she could. She fell to the ground as a gigantic metal sphere, pulsating with the suit's energy. The ball spun in place, scattering sparks off of the deck in a truly bizarre-looking burnout.

"See you," she chuckled, as the sphere took off, knocking the Xenomorph away like a particularly infuriated bowling pin. It scampered to its claws afterward, ready to chase the offender down, when it noticed something at its feet. A small, glowing metal orb, pulsating gently.

"Screeeee," it whined, before the Morph Bomb exploded.

***

"They are totally dead," asserted Ruby. "Totally."

Holly rubbed her eyes and looked up from the nap she had been taking. "And what makes you think that?"

"They're split up!" squealed the girl. "Nobody lives when they split up! They're just gonna get chased by the monsters, until one of them slips, and then BOOM! Game over, man!"

"It is a distinct possibility," Adam agreed. "Neither one has a clear path to their objective. And both are recklessly throwing themselves into danger. Eventually, they will succumb to one of those factors."

"I don't think so," said Kamina, sitting in his chair sideways to avoid looking at the screen.

Simon tapped his shoulder, causing the older boy to jump a little. "Hey, what's the deal, bro? Don't tell me you're scared of those… things?"

"The mighty Kamina is scared of no beast!" he stammered. "What an absurd notion!"

"It don't seem too absurd when you're breaking out in a cold sweat," noted Ryuko.

"Whatever! If you guys want to keep focusing on unimportant details like that, I'll never share my theory on how they can win."

Ryuko exhaled flatly. "You want them to combine. There, I saved everybody the trouble."

"Hey! How did you know that?!"

"Well, bro, I think it is the majority of our fighting style," Simon pointed out.

"That's silly. They can't combine. They're not mechs, they're wearing power armor," said Holly.

Katniss paused, halfway through re-braiding her hair. "But they can cooperate."

"Cooperate? In a match where the goal is for one of them to kill the other? Unlikely," stated the elf.

Katniss blinked slowly. "It worked well enough for us, didn't it?"

"Oh yeah," Holly realized. "We did do that."

***

John knew that they were close behind him. He could run faster than them in the straights, but the ship's corridors had an annoying little thing called corners and they were quite a bit better through those than he was. He was closing in on another fork and decided to cut a left, halting his armored boots and skidding into the wall with great force. He pried himself out of the bulkhead and took off down the next hall, taking a look back to see a horde of xenomorphs scuttle around the corner with ease.

I've got to widen the gap. Whether I find Samus or a terminal, I can't have them on my tail.

He pushed himself just a little harder, covering a few more meters in a stride, and then brought himself to a halt as quickly as he could. He stomped his foot down as hard as possible, denting one section of the deck's grated floor. He then reached up and tangled his thick fingers around the similar grates that ran along the ceiling, just underneath the buttressed girders. He used one hand to hold the ceiling grate in place while he used the other to bend it downward. He then performed the same process with the section of the floor, forming a short barricade.

It won't stop them, but it doesn't have to.

He unhooked a small, round object from his belt, depressed a plunger, and tossed it at the barrier he had built. The little ball turned bright blue, leaving a trail of plasma in its wake, and stuck to the edge of the fortification. The xenomorphs finally caught up, and stopped briefly to examine the grates, plotting a way around.

Gotcha.

The plasma grenade detonated in a swirling blue cloud, killing at least two of the xenomorphs in the explosion. The spray of their blood took care of the rest. John was beginning to feel that was a little counter-intuitive for them- but he wasn't going to complain about it. He turned to continue on his way, when he realized that a data terminal was peeking out at him from the wall.

Now that's convenient.

The SPARTAN crept over to the console, still keeping a close eye on his surroundings. Following the directions, he plugged the cable into his helmet and let the download begin.

That's not all of them. There's sure to be more lurking about. But I'll see what this map has to offer.

John killed time by refilling his weapons' magazines and re-calibrating his heads-up display. Every few seconds he would look up to check that no one was paying him a visit. The download completed without a hitch, and John opened the file.

I'll be damned, it's got the engine room. And on my first try. Guess I really am lucky.

John felt a glimmer of hope, until further examination extinguished it.

But it doesn't have my current location. Great. Just great. Maybe I'll work something out.

He unplugged the cable and set off, keeping a close eye on his motion tracker as he sprinted away.

***

It scampered along the ceiling, knowing its pursuer was close. A flick of its bladed tail failed to find its target.

"Hey," said the Morph Ball rolling up alongside the fleeing warrior. "Who told you that you were getting out alive?"

Samus exploded out of her Morph Ball, tackling the alien to the floor as she fell. She jammed her Arm Cannon into its protesting mouth and blew its brains out, causing her to question if it really had brains to blow out.

She shook off the stinging acid from the tip of her weapon, and rose to her feet stretching.

"Boring," she yawned. "You could keep throwing these guys at me, but it stopped being entertaining an hour ago. Couldn't you mix things up?"

Oh, what's it matter? Sighed Samus internally. I've just got to tolerate it until that blockhead shows up. Then I swear I'll make him pay.

***

"The Ghost of the Chozo has a few secrets she likes to keep. Maybe if you can stay in my good graces, I'll let you in on them."

"I don't think anybody could stay in your good graces, Ms. Aran," laughed the SPARTAN in response.

"I… I think you could," she mumbled, as if by accident.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're different than the others, you know… you're different than me."

"Oh, boy."

"We can all sit there and talk about missions and feats, but… you've gotten past that. You know that it's not about what you did… but why you did it."

"Come on, now, you can't be so diff-"

"Money, John. I'm a bounty hunter. I did it because I got paid."

"Okay. So how am I so much better? I was just following orders."

"But you did that because… you had hope that you could make somebody else's life better, because of what you did. John, I understand why you're afraid of this place. But… what if it's not all bad? I mean, you've seen people go nuts here. But what if… they could- get better?"

"Well, that would be gr-" stammered Master Chief, before Samus threw herself into his arms.

"I want to get better!" she sobbed. John patted her on the back and carefully pried her off of his armor, placing her back in her seat. "I've lived my life for the wrong reasons… and I want you to show me how to live for the right ones."

"This is going to be weird, isn't it?"

"I… well… yes, it is. It is weird. But I think this is something I need to do."

"So you need me… to teach you how to care?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Isn't that your parents' job?"

"Yeah… well, about that… I think you need to come with me."

She got up, looked around nervously, and shot out of the common hall.

"Jeez," John-117 sighed, getting up from his seat to pursue Samus. He found her waiting in the hallway next to a door that was most probably hers.

"Nobody followed you, right?" she said worriedly as John approached.

"No, I don't think so. What the hell are you doing?"

"In here. Now," she hissed, slipping inside. John followed, finding a fairly basic room, equipped with a bed, a closet and a nightstand. Nothing to write home about.

"Here's the deal," she explained. "I- I think I can trust you with this. For you to get the whole picture… you need to know."

"Is this about-"

"My parents. I was a colony girl. They were sweet- at least, from what I can remember. I was only three when they died. It was a pirate raid. Whole colony went up… every once in a while, I can still hear him laughing over all of it…" Her eyes grew distant.

"And who is he exactly?"

"Sorry, off-topic," said Samus, snapping back to reality. "I was the only one to make it out, and only because the Chozo saved me. They gave me everything. A new home, a new life. They were my parents. Or that's what it will always feel like."

"And we needed to be in private to say that?"

"No. We needed to be in private so that I could do this," she whispered, unzipping her Zero Suit. John quickly turned away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! That is not the way to work out your problems!"

"Oh, real mature, you blockhead! Would you like to find out exactly what I'm trying to show you, or are you going to run away so you don't get cooties?"

"Hey, if you insist," whined the SPARTAN. Samus was pointing a finger at her exposed left bicep. On it was something he did not expect to see.

"Are those… feathers?"

"Yes. The Chozo were a dying race, you see. They knew their time had come and past. But they saw a lot of potential in me… So they figured I could carry on their legacy. They shot me up with most of their genome, so I started growing these."

"I get it," whispered John. "The Ghost of the Chozo."

"Yeah. So I'm the last one… sort of. That's why I wear the Zero Suit."

"I thought that was because it was the only clothing you had."

"Oh, yeah. That too. But I just don't want people seeing them. They'll… laugh."

"I don't think they'd laugh," said John. "They don't look silly. They're a very pretty shade of blue."

"But they're out of place- they won't get it… and I don't want to tell them. So this is our secret, okay? Nobody else knows."

John nodded. "Nobody else knows. Maybe someday I'll tell you about my parents."

***

Still haven't lived up to that, have you, SPARTAN?

Samus' thoughts were interrupted by heavy metallic thuds in the distance, echoing off of the narrow walls of the spaceship.

"Oooh, a big one. Now this should be entertaining."

She extended her Arm Cannon forward, charging a Power Beam with extra energy. When her target barreled around the corner, she felt even better about shooting it in the face.

"Samus!" yelped John, hitting the deck as the orb of swirling particles whizzed past overhead.

"Nearly got you, SPARTAN! How does it feel to know that there's no escape?!"

The SPARTAN leapt off the deck, continuing his dash toward Samus.

"Listen! Don't shoot! For just once-"

"I don't think so!" roared Samus, rolling into a full-body punch that landed squarely in the center of the MJOLNIR chest plate. The collision of both suits rang out in a pure, and very loud warbling tone. It would have been interesting to stop and listen to it, but they had other concerns at the moment. John flew back down the hallway, his boots skidding along the floor grate.

"Dammit, Samus, stop! If you want to have a chance to fight me-"

"Blah blah blah can't hear you fighting now!" cackled the bounty hunter, leaping forward and transforming into her Morph Ball. It skidded and hopped twice before racing ahead, with John barely having time to brace himself for the impact. However, as Samus found out, even a slightly-braced SPARTAN was a quite a sound structure. He caught the sphere ahead of him, holding the gyrating bounty hunter away with some effort. Samus spun uselessly, creating a shower of sparks that lit the dark corridor in a frenzy of flashes.

"I've got the engine room map!" strained John. "If we work together- uhn!- maybe we can seal these things off and have a fair fight!"

Samus stopped spinning and transformed back into the Power Suit's bipedal mode.

"And how exactly is this not fai-"

Before she could finish her sentence, a long, skeletal tail coiled around her midsection and carried her up to the ceiling. Samus wrenched her Arm Cannon free and reduced the Xenomorph to soggy dust before falling to the floor.

"Okay, I see your point. So, how do we get to the engine room?"

"That's the one part of the map I don't have."

"Of course it is."

***

"Called it," said Katniss, munching on a granola bar.

"That you did," replied Holly. "Another decisive victory for idealism. Now where did you get that granola bar?"

"Uh, back there," she said, directing a thumb toward the table full of food. "Where stuff always is."

"Right, right. First we talk about food, now you're eating. It's gotten me hungry. I'm going to go score some vittles, then. Can I get anybody anything while I'm up?"

Ryuko raised her hand. "I'll take another lemon."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Anything else? No? Last chance."

No one else replied.

"All right, I'll be back in a second. Say, that reminds me! Mikasa, did you ever come up with your last meal plan?"

The girl looked up, furrowed her brow, pulled down her scarf, and declared "I'm working on it."

***

"I think we're about to be on my map," said Samus. "I remember passing this section earlier. The medical bays are just up ahead."

"Good. Then we should head for those, catch a lift down a deck, and head aft. That should put us at the engine room. Or at least nearby," theorized John.

Since they had started travelling together, the Xenomorphs simply cleared out of their way. It was good to know that they had common sense.

"One step closer to getting what you deserve, SPARTAN," Samus spat.

"Will you lay off? It's not entirely my fault!"

"You keep saying that, yet I have no reason to believe you."

"Okay, you had better listen up because I'm only going to explain it again once. I got out of your room and all of the guys wanted to know what I had been up to… I mean, you didn't exactly go out of your way to make things not look a little suggestive. I told 'em that we just talked, because that's the way it was. But Doomguy kept bugging me about it, and I figured he had never wronged me before, and he promised not to tell anybody else, so I told him. And then he went and told Duke-"

"Of course."

"And Duke's an asshole, so of course he told everybody else."

"You know what I just heard? That you told somebody. It's your fault. Don't pass the blame here."

"But I-"

"Think this over, SPARTAN. Are you acting like a man, or a kid? You know who does what you did? A snot-nosed kindergartener, that's who. So you deserve every ounce of what's coming to you."

John-117 stopped walking forward, causing the trailing bounty hunter to bump into him.

"Do you know what all of this is?"

"Immature?"

"No, Samus. It's selfish. I know I did the wrong thing. But you are so concerned about your own image that you've gone on this whole quest of revenge. If you really want to learn how to care about other people, you have to stop caring about yourself."

"How about no? I'm not going to let you turn this into some half-assed moral lesson. You have done nothing but prove that I should not listen to you. Keep walking."

"Fine," grunted John. He stomped ahead, occasionally glancing at his motion tracker. The device showed no readings, until they reached the elevator. He extended an open hand and halted them once again.

"What is it now? Going to try and shove another Aesop down my throat?"

"No. There's one in the elevator."

"An Aesop?"

"No, one of those aliens."

"They're called Xenomorphs. Don't tell me your armor doesn't have a scan function."

"I also wish it had a mute function."

He tapped the button to summon the lift, and brought his Assault Rifle to the ready as he backed up against the wall next to the sliding doors.

"Now, when it opens, we'll use standard breaching procedures. Got it?"

"I'm going to just shoot it until it's dead," Samus smirked.

With a soft ding, the elevator arrived. John whipped around the corner and fired a burst between the doors as they opened. Samus unloaded several blasts from her power beam, scoring the back of the elevator with huge black burns. The creature that had been inside let out a ferocious hiss, pounced out of the still-opening doors, and proceeded to lick itself.

"It's a cat," observed Samus.

"That it is," confirmed John. "Heh heh heh."

"Whew," chuckled Samus, breaking into laughter as well. The two fighters collapsed to the deck with roaring guffaws and remained there for a few minutes.

"Oh, boy," John sighed, grinning behind his visor. "That's something you don't see every day."

"Or maybe you do," cackled Samus. "If you own a cat."

"Meow," agreed the cat.

"Is that right?" cooed Master Chief, delicately raising the cat in his armored hands. "Is that something you see every day? Ooo-who's a good kitty?"

"Oh, you big softie," Samus giggled. "Look at you and that cat. That's picture-worthy."

She tapped a panel on her helmet and saved the image.

"Yeah. Cats are nice," replied the SPARTAN. "I think I may have had a cat once. It's been a long while."

"Should we… get going?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." He got up and unclipped his assault rifle from his back, stepping into the elevator and holding the door open for Samus to step in. Their armor was so wide that it was a bit of a puzzle for both to fit in, but after some trial and error, they worked it out. John had to pack himself directly face-to face with Samus.

"Cozy," remarked the bounty hunter as the doors shut. She reached past his bulky arms to press the necessary button on the elevator's panel.

"It could be worse," grunted the SPARTAN.

"Meow," concurred the cat.

"D'awww," squealed Samus. "It followed us!"

"Hey, listen. I'm right in range for you to slap me, so I figure now's as good of a time as any. Just hear me out," asked John. "What if… the things aren't so bad?"

Samus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, your fea-"

SLAP!

"-those things." He finished.

"Well, what do you mean by, 'so bad'?"

"I mean, there are people with a lot weirder things going on here. You know why you haven't seen under my armor? It's bolted right on. Takes half a day to get it off. And you can't do it by yourself."

"But that's one example."

"There's that guy with the demon arm. And that guy with the alien hand. Or that chick that turns into a wasp- the point I'm trying to make- well, I guess it's two points. One, you could be a lot worse off… and two, nobody seems to mind them. Except when they're total asses. But you don't have to be a total ass, right?"

"I… I see what you mean," whimpered the bounty hunter. "So… you're saying I should just… be upfront about it?"

"Well… yeah. If it wasn't a secret, people wouldn't be talking about it behind your back. If you embrace it as a part of who you are… then, it's just you."

"Maybe… maybe I've been a little irrational about this whole thing," she sighed.

"Just a little."

"Meow," said the cat, sitting outside the elevator door.

"The door's open," said Samus. "I think it might have been open for a while."

"And we've just been standing here," realized John. "…holding each other."

An awkward pause followed.

"Heh heh… let's get moving, uh, this way," stammered John, stumbling backwards out of the elevator.

"Yeah. Moving ahead. Right," agreed Samus.

John led Samus and the cat down corridor after corridor as they began to approach the engine room, but as they neared, their environment began to take a turn for the terrifying. The bulkheads began to become strewn with black, vein-y tendrils, forming an ominous web over the exposed machinery. A few passageways closer, and the web had transformed into a thick, chitinous coating decorated with rib-like protrusions and empty indentations. It was as if they had walked into the womb of some gigantic insect- if insects had wombs.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked the SPARTAN.

"It's their hive," Samus whispered. "It's some sort of biomass that they excrete to form a stable environment for their young. It's a living structure."

"And I bet it can tell them exactly where we are."

"Oh, most definitely."

A nearby shriek caused both of the warriors to tense up, adrenaline pumping through their veins. John's motion tracker began to buzz with movement.

"Get ready," he grunted.

"I'm always ready," smiled Samus, placing her left hand on her Arm Cannon to stabilize it.

Hundreds of dull-tan, spidery creatures began to swarm over the walls toward them, leaping into the air as they approached.

"Don't let them near your face!" yelped Samus, blasting a handful of them away.

"I wasn't planning on it," growled John, spraying rifle rounds into the advancing horde. As the two spread their fire out, they began to make a dent in the seemingly endless storm of facehuggers- until one managed to jump through the directed-energy fire to grab Samus' right arm, wrapping its legs and constricting tail tightly over her Power Suit's polished surface.

"Get off," she hissed, snagging the small creature by the carapace. She tore it off, causing its legs and tail to vent acid all over her arm. She reeled in agony, incapable of using her weapon to suppress the monsters. Thinking quickly, John drew his sidearm with his left hand. He used the pistol to continue firing into his half of the swarm, while he aimed his assault rifle past Samus and emptied its clip. The bullets ripped through the advancing facehuggers, turning them into slowly-disintegrating mulch on the floor.

"You saved me," she gasped, prying herself off of the eerie deck.

"Of course," he grunted and tossed her the pistol, which she snatched out of the air.

"This magazine is about empty," she noted.

The SPARTAN rummaged through his myriad pouches and found a full magazine, handing it to Samus. She slipped the old magazine out and replaced it with the new one, giving John a thumbs-up. The two crept forward and found themselves in front of another sliding door, poking through the hive material.

"There's a lot on the other side," warned John.

"Makes sense. So how are we going to approach this?"

"Kick the door in, shoot until they're dead."

"Works for me."

"Then let's do it," said John, kicking open the door. Within an instant they were besieged by an army of Xenomorph warriors. Weapons drawn, Samus and John stood back-to back and felled each creature as it attacked. Soon, the engine room was a silent, empty expanse of melting corpses and darkness.

"Is that all of them?" asked Samus.

"There's nothing else on the motion tracker," observed John.

"Then that is all of them. Now, how do we turn the power back on?"

"I'd bet we would use that terminal over there."

The SPARTAN pointed, and glowing in the darkness was another screen like the ones they had encountered before. The two walked over and read the message.

"Tap screen to restore power," repeated Samus. "Well, that's easy."

Samus delicately struck the screen with the edge of her Arm Cannon, and the sound of nuclear powerplants humming to life filled the room. One by one, the room's spotlights cranked back on, revealing the large reactors in their thick housings, and the myriad cells and passageways the xenomorphs had built around them for their hive.

"Crazy stuff," whispered the bounty hunter.

"Motion tracker's got something," reported John.

"Where?" asked Samus.

"Right over there," John replied, raising his assault rifle to indicate the direction of the threat.

"Cover me in seafood and call me a Zebesian," swore Samus. "That is very large."

The creature was undoubtedly another Xenomorph, though on a much grander scale than the ones they had encountered before. It crawled up over the reactors, down across the hive, and onto the floor, raising itself far above them on spindly digitigrade legs. Its head was fanned out in an ornate crest the size of several warriors combined, and its chest bore an extra set of seemingly vestigial arms.

"So, what can your scanner tell us about that?" asked John.

"It's their queen," she mumbled. "And we just killed all of its babies."

"It's pissed?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"This should be fun."

The Queen unleashed a shrill bellow, swinging one of its larger arms down at them. Samus leapt over the attack and fired a few shots from her Arm Cannon, which burst uselessly against the monster's thick hide. John emptied another magazine of his assault rifle, only to find that it was also ineffective.

"How are we gonna kill this thing?" he shouted to Samus as he dodged a strike from the creature's tail.

"I've got an idea. We'll only have one shot for it to work, though!"

"If we've got a shot, we might as well take it!"

"Okay! I need you to circle around behind it, and climb up on the reactors! I'll tell you the next thing to do once you're there! On my mark! Ready?"

"Ready!"

Samus fired a fully-charged Power Beam at the Queen's face, which did not seem to do much damage, but did seem to cause it quite a bit of pain.

"Now!"

John blasted off at full speed, his armor leaving dents in the deck as he ran. With his full strength he leapt on top of the reactor housings, crouched down, and waved to indicate he was ready for further directions.

Samus now had to fulfill her part of the plan, which was going to be exceptionally risky, but that was how she liked it. She fired a series of low-power shots at the enraged Queen, and stood perfectly still. The Queen screamed and swung its arm toward her again. Just before impact, Samus raised her right arm above her head. The Queen snagged her in its icy grip, but her Arm Cannon was still free.

Okay, lady. Take a big bite.

The giant Xenomorph roared in triumph as it brought Samus ever closer to its razor-lined mouth.

"Push the crest down!" Samus screamed. John leapt from his perch and snagged the very tip of the Queen's long, decorative head, forcing its mouth upward as he fell onto its back.

Samus raised her Arm Cannon, and switched it from Power Beam to Missile mode.

"Lights out, bitch!"

She fired a salvo of fifteen missiles in rapid succession, each one exploding against the Queen's thin neck. Xenomorph blood sprayed as a fine mist in the air before being evaporated by the heat of the multiple explosions. When the dust settled, the Queen's head rolled back down, casting a furious non-glare at Samus, before sliding off and smacking into the floor with a heavy thud. With great effort, Samus pried herself out of the Queen's cold, dead hands, and dropped to the deck next to quite the impressive trophy.

"Amazing," said John, leaping off of the dead creature's back. "And those missiles didn't even touch my energy shield!"

"The armor on her crest was thick on top- which prevented the shockwaves from doing much to you- but very thin on the bottom, and on the neck, since the crest was meant to protect those things. You learn how to guess pretty well about alien biology when you're a bounty hunter."

"I guess you do," chuckled John.

"Yeah, yeah," she sighed. "So I guess this is the part where I kill you."

The Spartan took a sudden step backwards.

"But I thought we had worked everything out? I admitted to doing the wrong thing and you agreed that you were overreacting!"

"Yes to both. But I'm still set on kicking your ass, and proving to everybody that you do not mess with me."

"But- I thought we were-"

"Winner gets the cat."

John stood still for a moment, then raised his assault rifle.

"That cat is mine."

With their prize looking onward and mewing softly, the two armor-clad fighters charged at one another. As soon as they were two meters apart, they sprung their traps. John dropped to the deck, sliding forward on borrowed inertia. Samus leapt into the air over the SPARTAN and fired several Power Beam blasts down at him, which were absorbed by the shimmering field surrounding his armor. Samus fell to a knee after he passed, twisting her body to fire a few more shots at him. To her surprise, John did not return fire, but zig-zagged away. At the same time, she also became aware of a high-pitched whine. She looked down to find something blue stuck to her abdomen.

"Ah."

The Plasma Grenade detonated in a bright blast, leaving behind a haze of blue smoke and crackling electricity. Samus stood up, wiping the soot off of her immaculate armor.

"Nice try, SPARTAN," she laughed. "But it'll take more than that to-"

She was beginning to turn back around to egg her opponent on, when a heavily-armored fist drove itself into the side of her helmet at a staggering speed. The impact sent her flying into one of the engine room's radiation-shielded walls, which gave way under the force of her collision into a Samus-shaped dent.

John coiled up and launched into a mighty leap that carried him from where he delivered the punch to Samus' impact site. He reached into the deep crater and received a boot in the chest that sent him tumbling to the floor. The bounty hunter pulled herself out of the back of her hole in the wall and hopped out the front, transforming into her Morph Ball as she fell directly into the center of John's chest. The sphere bounced off, drove a lap around John's still body, and transformed back into the Power Suit.

"I'll admit, that was pretty potent," said Samus, running a hand under her helmet's chin. "But that was what I was expecting out of you." John began to move, placing his hands on the deck to push himself up, but Samus halted him by placing a heel on his chest.

"Ut-tut-tut! Not so fast. This is the part where I win," she cackled. John slipped his hands back to his sides and exhaled slowly, before snapping his grip onto the bounty hunter's armored ankle. With a heave, he tossed her away, springing to his feet. The SPARTAN reached down and removed a small, cylindrical object from his left thigh and clicked a button on its center. Two tine-like blades of energy sputtered out of the side, curving forward.

"Or is it the part where I win?"

Samus had caught herself in mid-air, and had landed with a careful somersault. She was fully recovered in time to see the SPARTAN draw his Energy Sword.

"So it's a brawl you want, huh? Then it's a brawl you'll get!"

She dropped to the floor and curled into her Morph Ball, speeding towards her opponent. John raised the sword as she neared, and began to slice downward at her when the oncoming sphere suddenly changed direction. It took a left.

I hate it when they evade.

Before John could react, Samus swung around behind him, stood up, and drove a knee into his back, which caused his energy shield to shatter in a scalding electric crack. With his body tensed from the brutal attack, John instinctively snapped his left elbow back. Samus was once again hit in the helmet, this time stumbling backwards, disoriented.

John spun around and aimed his assault rifle at the bounty hunter, emptying his last magazine into the bronze Power Suit. The bullets bounced away, as he predicted, but he was certain that the neural feedback he had seen her armor display would have worn her down significantly. She staggered backwards, but remained standing, clutching the armor over her stomach.

"Are you ready to give up?" asked John, his hands at his sides.

"Not… yet," she gasped.

"Figures," scoffed the SPARTAN, dropping his weapons and ducking into a sprint. Samus shook herself out of her stupor and did the same. With fists raised, they collided in a punch that echoed throughout the ship, as their right arms crossed over one another, reaching their targets simultaneously- John's fist against Samus' visor, Samus' Arm Cannon against his helmet's chin.

"A… cross counter?!" growled Samus, attempting to wrench her head back around against the force of John's punch.

"You punched me… with your gun arm?" grunted John.

"That's right!" she smiled, gritting her teeth. Orange energy began to charge up inside the Arm Cannon which sat directly in front of John's visor. John raised his other hand, and simply pulled the weapon to the side as it fired, sending a bolt of energy harmlessly flying into the wall.

"Oh, that was a cheap move!" she protested. John released her arm and stood still.

"I surrender," he said quietly.

"WHAT?!"

"I said, I surrender. It's clear to me we're evenly matched. And I think that cat likes you better."

"Dammit, John! That's not what did this for!"

"No. But maybe you weren't motivated by the right thing after all. Look, you still win."

"But… well, this was the most fun I've had in a long time."

"No, no no no no! Not AGAIN!" screamed the Master of Games' voice. "You can't do this again! No!"

"We can, and we are," sighed Samus. "And he can have the cat."

"Fine," the voice hissed. "Fine! But it will cost you!"

Samus gave John a thumbs-up as the two of them began to sink into the floor. He returned the gesture with his own extended thumb. In an instant, both of them were back in the common hall, in front of a sneering Master of Games. Samus' Power Suit had been removed, as it was considered part of her combat gear.

"Okay, okay. You want to rebel? Fine! Here's the deal! Ha hee ha hoo!"

He removed from behind his back a shallow plastic tray, filled with sand, and extended it towards John-117, who took it cautiously.

"This is a litterbox," grunted the soldier.

"That's right," giggled the Master of Games, removing something else from behind his back. He set the plastic scoop in the box, giving the wall a gentle tap.

"Have fun with it," he cackled.

"Uh… huh," muttered the SPARTAN, setting it down on a nearby table.

"As for you, Miss Aran," he beamed, overflowing with cruel joy. "For your punishment, you're going to tell everyone your dirty little secret!" He stomped his foot on the floor. "Everybody, listen up! Miss Aran has a special announcement she'd like to make!"

Samus turned to the Master of Games, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Aw, thanks," she said with a sly grin.

"That is not what your reaction should be," said a concerned-looking Master of Games.

Samus hopped up on a nearby table, assuring that she had everyone's attention.

"I'm only going to say this once, so keep your ears and eyes peeled!" she shouted. "My name is Samus Aran, the Ghost of the Chozo! The most feared bounty hunter in the universe! Yes, I do have feathers! They are a result of biological augmentation! Which means I am more than ready to kick your ass if you tell a joke about them! Here they are!"

She unzipped her Zero suit and let it fall from her shoulders.

"She has a lot more than just feathers," noted Kamina. "Hot damn!"

"What a shameless exhibitionist," huffed Ryuko. "Showing herself off like that."

Holly blinked at her teammate. "I think it might take too long to explain everything wrong with what you just said, Ryuko."

"… two-hundred sixty five Sachertortes, and six-hundred eighty two wiener schnitzels," finished Mikasa.

Holly turned to the scout. "Were you just telling us-"

"Yes."

"Would you mind saying it again? Because I think everybody missed it."

"Why would they miss it?" growled Mikasa, her left eyelid twitching in a very concerning manner.

Holly pointed to where Samus stood. The bounty hunter had just zipped her Zero Suit back up.

"And I used to dye my hair purple!" Samus declared.

"I spent hours planning that," hissed Mikasa. "For your stupid little game. And you missed it for purple hair?"

"No, she was just-"

"Whatever. I'm going to go get some Sachertortes, and I'm going to eat them all in front of you. And you won't get any."

"How very passive aggressive of you," frowned Holly.

"You wouldn't want me to be active aggressive," pouted Mikasa, storming off.

Ruby slowly raised her hand.

"Yes, Ruby?" sighed Holly.

"What's a wiener schnitzel?"

"It is a thin slice of veal, breaded and pan-fried," explained Adam.

"Oh," said the girl. She raised her hand again.

"Yes, Ruby?" Holly groaned, beginning to feel more than a little agitated.

"What's a veal?"