"It says here Mr. Hopkins that you were formerly in the United States Armed Forces?"

Former XCOM Lieutenant Gabriel Hopkins, two time Psionic Volunteer, nodded simply in reply. "Yes ma'am, I was in active duty for six years in the Army before being eased out of service," he said. Of course, five of those active years were spent fighting aliens for control of the fate of humanity, but the lady in charge of hiring people at Jurassic World didn't need to know that.

"And what exactly did you do for the Army?"

Hopkins paused to think about his answer. "I… was a Squad Designated Marksman, with training in communications, demolitions, and emergency triage." The recruiter looked up at him in surprise.

"That's… quite a range of skills," she admitted. "Skills that might be outside the scope of our Asset Containment Unit. Still, other than that, you have a spotless background check. Is there any position you'd like to have as a preference?" Hopkins smiled and chuckled.

"Well, I'd love to help raise the dinos," he said. "The more vicious, the better. If not, then I'll find some way to be of use to ACU." The clerk looked at her tablet and sighed.

"Well, we have no current openings for ACU at the moment," she said hesitantly, her fear and anxiety souring the back of Hopkins' throat.

"And the other spot?" he prodded. "You're hesitating." The lady gulped.

"…you can help out in raising our… velociraptors," she admitted. Hopkins looked at her blankly before grinning.

"Shit, I'll take it!" he exclaimed. "Who will I be assisting?"

"…no body, I believe you'll be getting your own clutch."

…

"…oh."

"Yeah…"

A pregnant pause filled the room.

"…so, where do I sign?"

[][][]

In March of 2015, alien forces attacked the planet Earth. In response, the United Nations activated a clandestine paramilitary group called XCOM. In the next three years, XCOM strove to find out why the aliens invaded, all while fighting impossible odds against enemies from both outside and within.

In late March of 2018, XCOM sends the Volunteer, a soldier gifted with extraordinary psionic power to assault the alien command ship. The Volunteer was successful, but soon had to move the vessel to high Earth orbit to avoid catastrophe.

When he awoke, he found himself in a world in which XCOM had failed to repel the invasion, and the aliens had effectively taken over the planet. Two years of irregular combat sent him and a psionically controlled Avatar of the XCOM Commander into the alien's headquarters, where they killed off the leadership. The Volunteer once again sacrificed himself to save others, and soon found himself in yet another world. A world without aliens.

A world where dinosaurs once again walked the Earth.

…

And where people were charged seven dollars a soda.

[][][]

XCOM: Volunteer Raptor Trainer

[][][]

Gabe yawned as he stretched his limbs out, the warm Costa Rican sun slicing through the window shades of his new home. He had moved into his new bungalow almost the day he was hired, seeing as most of his old gear had been confiscated by Homeland Security when he had popped up without warning in the bowels of Mighty Mo. But they had, thankfully, let him keep his MAG Rifle and revolver, if only because they were quickly alerted to where he had just been hired. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Gabe stood up and stumbled into the bathroom, the thin bed sheet sliding off his scarred form.

Flipping the switch on, Gabe looked at the mirror and sighed. The seemingly hung over brunette staring back at him from the mirror looked like shit, what with the far too precise surgical scars crisscrossing his lithely muscled form. A series of tribal looking dragon tattoos wrapped themselves around his right arm, and his chest was pockmarked with bullet and plasma scars. He looked over to the bottle of pills and sighed.

One glass of water later, and he popped a pill, quickly downing the glass to get rid of the taste. Shaking his head, Gabe turned on the radio to a random frequency and relaxed a bit at the soft hiss of static. Turning on the shower, he quickly scrubbed off the light sheen of night sweat he had gotten before shutting the water off and exiting the shower. Glancing at his phone, Gabe's eyebrow perked up at seeing a text on the screen already. Swiping a thumb across the screen, he groaned as he read the message from one of the HR drones, saying that he needed to come in and sign some more paperwork before finally going in to meet his assigned dinosaurs.

"Fine you bloodsucking bastards," he muttered as he quickly got dressed in a light long sleeved shirt, jeans, his old, worn combat boots, and for a tad of whimsy… a flak vest. Satisfied with his new reflection, Gabe grabbed his phone, keys, and temporary access card before exiting his home.

A half hour later, and the psychic was bored almost to death as he filled in form after form as the clerk droned on. He signed the final paper and yawned. "Okay, all that shit's done," he commented, getting up. "So, when do I get to meet my new demon lizard cats?"

"Well, I gotta admit, that's a new one for me." Gabe turned around and saw what he assumed to be a dinosaur trainer standing in the doorway. He was tall… well, taller than Gabe at least by a few inches at the least, with dark orange, almost brown hair messily plopped on his head. "Owen Grady, I work with the raptors," he added, extending his hand.

Gabe took it, feeling the man's genuine enthusiasm both in the hand shake, and from the man's emotions. "Gabriel Hopkins, new hire and possible raptor chew toy," he fired back, making Owen laugh.

"Well, we try not to give the girls much to chew on we don't want them too," the senior trainer said as he looked at the clerk. "I've got him from here on Monica." The clerk nodded as Owen beckoned for him to follow. "So, what's your skill set then… ?"

"Gabe or Hopkins is good," Gabe said at the cue. "As for my skill set, I was a sniper-scout for about six years before I drummed out. So, you know, tracking, target acquisition, sneaking… a bit of swordplay," he added with a shrug.

"Swordplay?"

"I was stuck with a bunch of wierdos. We were sometimes handed over to the CIA."

"…and you survived?" Owen asked in disbelief as they approached the hatcheries. Gabe nodded, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Well damn then, you might make it past the first few weeks with raising your raptors." Gabe merely shrugged again as they entered the labs, a quick burst of antiseptic spray interrupting their journey. Owen noted how Gabe stiffened at the sudden hiss of gas.

"Not a fan of clean rooms?" he asked. Gabe glowered as he looked at the far too sterile white walls.

"Not particularly," he answered, his tone driving the point home. Owen nodded sagely before he spotted his target. "Doctor Wu!"

Dr. Wu, the head geneticist of Jurassic World, paused in his work to look up at Owen and his guest. "Ah, Mr. Grady, thank you for coming by," he said, standing up. Immediately, Gabe felt his neck hairs bristle at the seeming sterility of Wu's aura. "And would I be correct in assuming you are our new raptor wrangler?" he asked Gabe, smiling slightly. Gabe nodded stiffly as he eyed the amber lined walls.

"Yes sir," the young man answered. "Excuse me if I, uh, don't shake your hand. Clean room and all." Wu nodded in appreciation.

"Don't worry, it's actually refreshing to meet someone who respects our line of work," the scientist stated before looking back at Owen. "So, how are the girls?"

"Pretty good," Owen replied. "Only got a small bite from Blue this morning instead of from at least two of them. Good day so far. So, what have you cooked up for our new guy here?" Wu smirked confidently as he led the two to a closed off room.

"We have one of them using the same genetic structure as Beta, with some variation of course," he stated. Gabe immediately picked up on the implication.

"So, if our packs were ever to, let's assume integrate with some peace, Owen's beta wouldn't freak out at seeing basically herself and go all psycho?" Owen looked and grinned at him.

"Damn, you and I might get along just fine," he said, moving to clap Gabe on the back. "Okay if I, uh… ?" Gabe nodded. Owen's hand landed on the smaller man's back approvingly. "Just need to introduce you to Barry and the girls, just to give you an idea of what we're working with."

Wu nodded in agreement. "That's correct," he said, continuing on as he inputted the codes to the room. "The others are all mixes of marine iguana, monitor lizard, and I believe one of them was based on a leopard gecko." Both raptor trainers blinked owlishly in surprise.

"That's a bit unusual," Gabe commented as the door opened. "I mean, most people don't exactly think apex predator when talking about an animal you can get in the pet store for about eighty bucks." Wu glanced up and hummed to himself, likely thinking of what other animals to splice into the next clutch of dinosaurs. "But, these are… ?" Wu nodded.

Gabe stepped forward, looking at the quartet of eggs in hesitant awe. They were each about half a size larger than his hand, and were attended to be an automated arm. Stepping closer, he let his mental walls fall a tad bit to try and feel the animals growing within, and sucked in a breath. "I'm okay!" he said quickly, stopping Wu and Owen. "Just… never been this close to a dinosaur before."

Gabe quickly lost any sense of caring about the other two humans in the room as he let the four raptors in their shells react to his psionics. They were curious, to be sure, if only in a basic way. One of them though quickly shifted to something resembling happy, and the others soon followed. Sending a reassuring pulse to them, Gabe slowly closed the link between them and stood up. "I think we'll get along just fine," he said, grinning.

"Egg-scelent!" Owen declared, grinning back, only to be met with a confused look from Wu, and an unimpressed glare from the new guy.

"…that," Gabe said flatly, "Was horrible. Dr. Wu is now twenty points dumber for having heard that. You should be ashamed of the amount of intelligence you're showing your raptors." Owen paused to think the insult over, and then chuckled.

"You know what Gabe, you and Barry might get along just fine," the senior raptor trainer said with a grin. "So, want to meet my girls?" Gabe thought it over.

"Alright."

[][][]

Later that evening, Gabe sat on the porch of his new residence, exhausted. He had always had something of a rough time dealing with crowds as an empath. The four energetic raptors that Owen had shown had, somehow, damn near drained him of his remaining civility. Mostly because the pack of raptors were far more ornery than even the crankiest Muton, Blue in particular.

Sighing, the former XCOM operative went to his fridge and pulled out a margarita can. Popping it open, he took a quick sip, thankful for the slow dulling of his psionics that the alcohol induced. Gabe pulled out a small book, clicked open a pen, flipped the book open to a blank page, and started writing.

June 5, 2009

I suppose that after all the shit I've been through, I should be used to all the time travel crap. But, still, it's weird knowing that out there is a younger me, completely clueless that there's an older him (me?) out there with a job. But, identity crisis aside, I've had a rather hectic day.

Today was my first 'official' day working for Jurassic World. Yes, that one. Anyhow, I got registered in their systems today, and I met what most people would call the 'senior velociraptor behaviorist.'

Everyone else either calls Owen Grady 'Raptor Dad,' 'Raptor Mom,' or 'Raptor Lord.' That he happens to look like Chris Pratt, Peter Jason Quill, and a few other folks is most likely coincidental. So, he showed me his girls, and Blue almost bit my balls off through the bars. I wasn't happy, and I let her know it.

Psionics. Eat that bitches!

But the best part of today was meeting my clutch of raptor eggs. They're… fuck, I can't really put it in words, because there aren't any words that can accurately describe what really goes through a psi's head as they read another person's mind. I did it on four baby dinosaur recombinants, and I'm still exhausted from it. Dr. Wu says it'll be another couple of weeks before they hatch, so that gives me some time to look at how Owen does things, and extrapolate from there.

Welp, I'm tired, and I need sleep.

Gabe shut his journal, yawning. The day really had drained him, and with that out of the way, he stripped down to something more tolerable to the Central American heat and fell onto his bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.