Emergency!

In space, beyond the reach of any kind of system, gravity has no hold. Stars lay arranged in their positions, seemingly frozen, still. A medium-sized, decommissioned Galactic Federation space cruiser passes by. The patterns and ID number show that the ship has been heavily customized and is in the hands of an individual license holder. The cruiser itself is flying sluggishly, only about half a million miles per hour. It would appear that the sole passenger is in no hurry to arrive at the destination.

Inside the cruiser, it is cold. There is a slight hum as the icy air succumbs to a hotter breeze, oozing out from overhead vents. There are many hallways and rooms, but all are dark. The only source of light in the ship, save for a few blinking panels, is coming from a large, wide computer screen. Sitting at the keyboard is a young blonde woman in her pajamas.

As she types, a yawn escapes her and she shakes herself awake. Straining slightly to focus on the screen, she checks the networks for news reports and background information. Work. Work can wait until later. The woman begins to play a short game, just to waste the time away. When it is over and she has won, she pulls up a screen displaying information directly from the Galactic Federation database and begins researching the all-too-familiar material called Phazon.

There is a mug of steaming liquid to her left. She sips it, and then meticulously places it back down, handle facing out. She yawns again, but this time she lets it wash over her, slumping low into the arms of an ergonomic chair. She begins to doze. The screen's brightness fades, sensing her slowed breathing and inactivity at the keyboard.

Dreams.

A loud sound jolts her instantly out of her sleep. The room is now lit up with rotating red beams. There is a screeching alarm, incessantly repeating itself. As the woman looks around, she realizes what must be going on. The screen displays, in large red text, "Emergency!" With adrenaline pumping through her veins, she rapidly logs off of the computer system with a few keystrokes and pushes the chair away from her. It crashes into the desk and knocks the mug onto the floor, shattering it and spilling its contents. By this time, the woman is halfway down a long hallway. She hops to remove her slippers as she begins to strip down.

Turning right, she reaches a door, having removed all but a pair of pants. The door slides open and she throws a slump of clothes into a corner. Lights fade in to reveal a circular room with a large cylindrical area in the center. Naked, the woman slips into a blue jumpsuit and erratically ties her hair back. After zipping the jumpsuit up, she turns around and types rapidly onto a keypad, opening the cylinder to reveal a large, orange, customized Power Suit. Lit from below, the empty suit appears lifeless and foreboding.

The woman steps up to the platform. The Chozo technology cracks open along certain faults to allow the woman to enter. First her legs are swallowed up. Her waist and arms follow. Her chest is then fitted with a red section that, after it is closed up, sets the suit on fire with a dull green glow. Now, a helmet floats down from the ceiling, suspended by three metal arms. The helmet swallows up the last we can see of the woman. As the metal arms retract, there is a flash of brighter green as the visor brings the suit to life.

The woman and the suit, together as one being, are lifted up from the floor to a higher level of the space cruiser. The flashing, red alarm beams contrast greatly with the green of the Power Suit. Horizontal sections of light pass, from top to bottom, over the hulking Suit. On the right arm, a menacing cannon appears, seemingly fused with the essence of the Suit itself. The woman is typing commands into the cannon as the elevator continues upward. The elevator slows as the ceiling opens up, revealing a large, cavernous room. Sitting only a few feet away is a large, intimidating, and already activated Gunship, looking strikingly similar to the Power Suit. The engines hum with a threatening quietness, ready to explode and take off. The woman runs up to it with surprising swiftness and steps onto a platform. She is raised up into the belly of the Gunship. Immediately, a seat is pushed forward and plants the woman comfortably into the front of the ship. The wide and expansive windshield displays many readouts, but the woman ignores them all. She immediately pushes a large button and, after the ship's arms return to their flight positions, pushes a lever forward, propelling the large Gunship forward at an alarming speed.

Once it is out in the emptiness of space, the gunship comes to a sudden stop. The guns at the front of the ship are in battle-ready mode. Slowly, the ship turns around to face the space cruiser, its docking bay doors still open. The woman apprehensively types in a command into the gunship. Two lines of text appear on the display -

-- Emergency Drill --

This Time: 1:57:92

Record Time: 1:54:67

"Shit."