Hullaluyah! We finally have reached the second saga! this time, the chapters would be uploaded in a mess of one day but have gaps between them.
I don't think that that's THAT good, you know.
*Sigh* For those you don't know this is my OC Mr Question Mark. For more detail on him, click on my little profile link (that's a boy. click it, click it) and read the first story I have on him.
Yep and this time the author ACTUALLY knows what he's talking about.
Disclaimer: I do not own Metroid or Doctor Who.
Metroid: Saga 2: Chapter 1
When she opened Mr Question Mark's door she was immediately surprised. He was lying on the bed with a file covering his face. 9 other files lay on the ground with the official 'case closed' seal on it. He was whispering something to himself under the file and did not acknowledge her presence.
"You done already?" she asked.
The whispering stopped. Mr Question Mark lowered the file and looked at her. "Can you see it? The thing next to the bed?" he asked. Precia frowned and approached the bed, looking at both sides. The only thing was…
"The floor?" she asked quizzically.
Mr Question Mark looked at her and nodded. "Good, the perception filter still works." He mumbled. "What do you want?" he asked.
Precia motioned to the cases on the ground. "You done with those cases?" she asked
Mr Question Mark scoffed. You can hardly call them that. All of them are Data Mind questions, only one physical which is coming in soon. There's just one thing I don't get, how to you respond to the Data Mind questions. I did what Matthew said but I never got it."
Precia sat at the foot of the bed and scratched her head. She too vaguely remembered the details but didn't understand them as well. "Well, you send the answer to the problem to the consciousness through the Data Mind. That or just visit the person sending the message."
Mr Question Mark nodded. "So what's the physical problem?" she asked. Mr Question Mark glanced at the file and flicked through the pages. "Something to do with a mole at the top of the Galactic Federation's Human Division Supreme Council."
Precia recognised the name. "There's a top for that? I thought there were just the generals."
Mr Question Mark shook his head. "The generals have to get orders from somewhere. What to focus on, who to kill, where the agents are send. Stuff like that. Their existence is very hush-hush to avoid the problem."
Precia nodded. "But how do you know that?" she asked suspiciously.
Mr Question Mark coughed and turned away. "A guess" he lied.
"Right." She said sarcastically. So are they coming to collect you are something?" she asked.
"Yeah" he responded. "Courier by the initials of S.A. I doubt they thought that Matthew would solve this problem in the one allocated day. Very tough tis problem, with the suspects being the head honchos. Good thing that I'm not the King. I can spend as much time as I like on this case. Investigative holiday, I call it."
"Investigative holiday?" asked Precia. "Does that mean that you're going?"
Mr Question Mark grunted. "No one else I can trust. If this goes to the top, there might be certain measures taken to people to make sure that they don't solve it. Anyway, I owe someone a favour. Said I'd help them out when I could."
Precia arched an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't know anyone there." She said.
"I don't." Mr Question Mark said.
Precia snorted. After less than a day already, and he was leaving. Again, she would be bored at the events at the castle. Honestly, for a princess, her life was unbelievably boring. There was nothing to do. Unless…
"Can I come?" she asked.
Mr Question Mark arched an eyebrow. He did that a lot. "Do you want to? Being an investigator and a bodyguard is a lot of work. Do you know how to protect yourself?"
Precia nodded. "I took a self-defence course a while back. I also know a little bit about modern weapons. I've applied them every now and then but rarely and I'm not that good. Good enough. Probably why I need a bodyguard."
Mr Question Mark sighed. "Alright. You better get ready." He stood up and walked over to the door.
"Why?" asked Precia. "The client's not here."
Mr Question Mark opened the door. In the doorway with their fist raised in a knocking position was their courier. She was tall, taller than Mr Question Mark and had blond hair like Precia but was longer as well as green eyes. She wore a blue uniform that looked tight against her skin that had a strange emblem near her heart. She looked at Mr Question Mark and her eyes opened in an expression of shock.
"Shit" Precia heard Mr Question Mark mutter. In a swift motion the woman pulled back her raised fist and smashed it against Mr Question Mark's jaw in a mean right hook. He fell back and landed on his rump as the woman strode towards him and let loose a kick that hit him on the chin. He fell back and held up a hand, using the other to massage his jaw and chin. "Wait!" he said. The woman stopped and looked down at him with a glare. Precia caught a look at it and noticed that it looked more upset than hateful. "Would it matter to say that I'm planning to make up that favour?" The woman still looked down at the boy and soon Precia saw something else in the glare. Water. She was crying. She fell down to her knees and grabbed Mr Question Mark's lapel and cried silently into it. Mr Question Mark chuckled. "Wow. You really do have a girly side, Samus." He said. There was a sound that resembled a laugh and a cry. Mr Question Mark patted her hair and stood up. "Precia. Let's let our courier have a moment alone." He walked out of the room, followed by Precia.
They both stood outside the room, waiting for 'Samus' to recompose herself. Precia glanced at Mr Question Mark's lapel. The black blazer didn't look any different, neither did his tie but his white shirt was slightly darker. "I thought you didn't know-" Precia began.
"I don't" he replied cryptically. They both stood in silence for the next minute or so before there was a knock on the inside of the door. Mr Question Mark opened and the woman stepped out. She nodded to Precia and turned to Mr Question Mark. "A passenger" he said. The woman nodded and then turned back to Precia. She held out a hand. "Samus Aran." She said. Precia took her hand and shook it. "Precia." She said.
Samus's eyebrows arched. "The princess?" she asked. She turned back to Mr Question Mark. He turned away and whistled a tune that Precia didn't recognise. Samus rolled her eyes and turned to Precia. "Are you ready to leave?" she asked. Precia shook her head. "Give me a little bit. I have to pack."
It took a while, not helped by Mr Question Mark's constant whining, but eventually, she had packed, explained to her parents hat was going on, boarded Samus's ship and entered the vast reaches of space. The questions that were supplied first did not come from Mr Question Mark but rather from Samus, asking him what had happened to him after the Space Pirate Invasion of Pluto V3. The only details he had supplied was that there was an additional craft that the Galactic Federation Police that did not know about. By the time that it had been discovered, it had already exploded with no survivors. He only escaped by luck. It was not until Samus had stopped asking that Mr Question Mark asked his own questions.
"So Samus. I know that you don't like to sit and dawdle. What have you figured out?"
Samus shook her head. "Nothing. Whoever the mole is in the Human Division Supreme Council, they've concealed themselves well. There are only 5 suspects anyway."
Mr Question Mark nodded. "The 5 Onlookers."
"Onlookers?" asked Precia.
Mr Question Mark nodded again. "Onlookers. The top dogs. They run mostly everything for their species. In this case, it would be the humans. In the Human Division, the Onlookers name themselves after famous historical figures. There's Napoleon, Cleopatra, Alexander, Churchill and Thatcher. Each has been around enough war for a lifetime so they handle pressure well. Very well. This mole is going to be no walk in the park."
He reached into his blazer and pulled out a black fedora and put it on his head. He pulled back the chair to let it lean back and he did the same. He looked at the ceiling and said nothing.
"So how did you two meet?" said Samus from the rivers seat. She ad changed from her costume to her Power Suit.
"It's nothing special." Precia lied. Mr Question Mark was probably the most exciting thing to happen to her and she wanted to keep her experiences with Mr Question Mark a secret from other people. They were her experiences after all. She didn't have to share them if she didn't want to.
"What?" asked Precia
"You're just like me. You don't anyone else to know about what he did. Those memories are precious. What I do is tell enough to keep people guessing but enough for me to remember the story. Mine involved a submarine and sun fuel. What about you?"
Precia thought about how to respond thinking about the criteria that Samus had put down. "A hit man and a coma." She responded. Samus smiled in turn.
"Can I ask you something Ms Aran?" asked Precia.
"Ms Aran?" snorted Samus. "Samus, please. Ms Aran makes me sound old."
"Sure Samus. But I can't help but think that you're named after Samus Aran from the Metroid game series."
Samus smiled. "Oh? So you've played it?" Precia nodded. "Well, I'm not named after her. I am her."
Precia looked at her confused. "You can't be though. You're a fictional character. Samus Aran is not real."
Samus crossed her arms. "I know what you mean. When I figured out that there was a whole franchise based on me, I almost lost my mind. Am I created from another source? Is my life written on a script?"
"So, you are real? What about the games then?" questioned Precia.
"Well, according to Mr Genius over there" said Samus indicating to Mr Question Mark. "The games came first. But as more and more people bought it and played it, he more they poured part of their unused soul into. There are certain parts of the soul that don't have a use. Don't ask." She said seeing Precia's confused face. "I don't understand it but as more and more people pour their soul into a creation, even a glance, it gives it life. Even of life causes that creation to gain a physical form. According to Mr Question Mark, it takes around 1 million parts of the unused soul to bring a creation to life. And that creation takes up space in the universe. The universe is always expanding right? The fiction takes up that space."
"So basically, everything that is fiction, is actually real?" asked Precia.
"Eventually. When that fiction receives even 1 million glances, it becomes real. Mr Question Mark calls the phenomenon the Fictional Reality. A reality made up of fiction."
"So the games are actually kind of biographies?" she asked.
"Partly. For example, if I knew the outcome of an adventure I have yet to have, I could change the outcome which would create a paradox which in turn could destroy my reality. So I don't play my games. I play others though. Very entertaining, this Nintendo."
"So, if you don't know the end result, the games are sort of biographies?"
"In essence, yes. It's very confusing. And in order to stop paradoxes, he" Samus indicated to Mr Question Mark lying back "Doesn't or immerse himself in any fiction. If he did, he could cause a paradox, trying to achieve a certain outcome or result. I owe him my life and my sanity."
Precia nodded. This new concept of Fictional Reality was extremely confusing and complex. In order to change the subject to one that she fully understood se asked "Has Mr Question Mark always been odd in the time that you've known him?"
Samus looked at the boy that they were talking about. "Yes. But you get used to it. Kinda like his name. But it's those quirks that make him enjoyable to be around."
"His quirks. Yeah." Precia said knowingly.
"Wanna see one?" asked Samus. Her Power Suit retracted and she put the ship on auto pilot. She walked to Mr Question Mark's seat and took off his hat. "Watch this." She said as she sat next to Precia.
At first it was mumbling but eventually it got louder. "-choices. Different scenarios for all. Different backgrounds. Molemolemole. So difficult. More information. Assumed conclusion are false conclusions. Usually. Unless of course the false conclusions are real conclusions it which case, they aren't false but rather-"
"What is he doing?" asked Precia, looking in amusement.
"It seems that this hat" said Samus indicating to the hat and also looking in amusement. "prevents all of his thoughts from coming out like they are now." She out the hat on Precia's head. "He says it's special but it's just an ordinary hat." Precia adjusted the hat so it would fit more comfortably and listened to more ramblings.
"Sentsentent. Courier is sent. Will be sent. Samus will be sent. Not right? Potential pain not sent. Planted. Why planted? Only.." Mr Question Mark sat up and looked around. "Where's my hat?" he asked, the first words that he had said that actually made sense. He turned to Precia and noticed the familiar looking object on her head. He walked over and took off the hat. "First and last warning. Don't touch the hat." He said as he put it back in his blazer.
"But-" started Precia but Samus elbowed her.
"I was planted?" asked Samus, changing the subject.
"Yes. Most likely. Couriers aren't told much. And if I wanted to get rid of someone, I would 'send' them to pick up someone else then eliminate them. Not to mention, it's a royal of the Cosmosian Empire. That means a lot of trouble. Kill a royal and Samus Aran. Two birds with one stone. What stone though? We'd be dead if it was a large stone. So small, probably wired or something, most likely a bomb. That means….."
He raced down to the end of the spaceship and lifted a panel close to the ground to reveal a number of wires. He took one look and immediately said: "Navigations been re-wired"
"How did you know?" asked Samus.
"No hassle taking off the panel. Someone else took it off and forgot to place it in properly." He used his fingers to trace one of the wires from the top to the side. "Come to papa." He said as he reached to the side. He felt around there for a minute and then pulled out an object. Precia gasped at the sight of it. It was rectangular and black in size and colour. On both sides was a wire, red on the left, blue on the right and in the middle was the word: SS5L10
"What does that mean?" asked Precia.
Mr Question Mark ignored her and turned to Samus. "Whoever placed this had prior knowledge to the mission. Who knew you had this mission?" he asked.
"Only the Onlooker who briefed me. Didn't see their face." She said.
"Damn." Said Mr Question Mark.
"What's SS5L10?" asked Precia again.
"In order to get to get where we're going, no matter what route we take we have to pass through this point. Star Sequence 5 Lower 10. Someone wants us dead and" He indicated outside. "judging by the constellations outside, we have less than 2 minutes before his thing explodes.
Dumdum dah! Cliffhanger! So what do you think?
A bomb? Seriuosly?
I was asking the readers. And the only way to do that is ...
Review if you please.
But a bomb!? Seriously? that's all you could up with?
Do you want to get shot again?