Chapter 2
The sound of Newt's terror poured over the pair of them like a cold shower, and Ripley couldn't stop the horrified shout of Newt's name from pulling past her lips. She took off across the bay toward their charge, Hicks right behind her, his wounds slowing his reaction by just a second or two. Ripley was horrified to realize neither of them were armed; the thought of weaponry had been forgotten in the sheer relief to be waking up alive and mostly whole. If another one of those fucking things was in here? What if it had her little girl? Ripley spun around the row of lockers and stumbled to a shocked halt as the sight that awaited her by the mess tables. Hicks caught himself before he slammed into her, and both of them stared.
Curled up under the table where they'd left her and still sitting safe and sound beside her cup of cocoa was Newt with her hands clapped tightly to her mouth and a shamed and fearful expression on her face. Beside the table she hid beneath, and looking more sheepish than shamed was Bishop, awake and aware, and torso somehow settled on some kind of exoskeletal lower body. Hicks turned away to lean against the lockers, and Ripley hurried forward to Newt, brushing a hand over her face and arms, assuring herself that the girl was truly unharmed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle any of you." Bishop's voice was just slightly apologetic, but it was more emotion than Ripley would have expected a synthetic to express out loud. She lifted Newt into her arms and nodded her acceptance of her apology.
"It's alright. It's alright," she breathed into Newt's hair, eyes closed tightly to keep the child or Bishop from seeing how deeply they'd frightened her. "It's alright, now." Composed, she opened them again and turned to Bishop. "You just surprised us. I didn't think you'd be online so soon."
"Most of the repairs were completed during hypersleep. Once I awoke, it was merely a matter of bringing the exoskeleton online."
"You didn't need any help?" Hicks asked from his corner, and Bishop turned slightly to take in all three humans in his gaze. His face was blank, as he answered.
"I could complete the repairs on my own. The system is designed for that. You were otherwise occupied."
There was a slightly embarrassed cough at that comment, and Hicks came up behind her. Ripley had a brief moment of panic, hoping he'd managed to fasten his pants before Newt saw. That was followed by a moment of shame as she buried her face into Newt's hair. They'd gotten too damned caught up in each other; until Newt had screamed, Ripley hadn't thought of her. She'd had other things on her mind. Hicks brushed a hand across Ripley's back and then passed her, heading to the food processor on the wall. He called back over his shoulder to the trio.
"Sorry 'bout that Bishop. You need any more help now?"
"Not at this time, no."
Hicks nodded back at him, and then continued to mess with the buttons on the wall.
"This is just about done…" He trailed of, and then suddenly slammed his good hand flat against a corner of the processor. At the sound of the slam and a loud 'bing' that followed immediately after, both Ripley and Newt jumped and let out startled squeaks. Hicks blinked over at them and then pulled the processor's door open sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout that," he said again. "The door tends to stick some, and you have to…"
He trailed off again and shrugged, and Ripley just exchanged an annoyed look with the little girl in her arms. If it wasn't one man set to give them a heart attack, it was clearly the other. Hicks rubbed his right had over the back of his neck, clearly still a little sheepish, and then began pulling out a few trays and setting them on the rack below the processor.
"We've got your basic eggs and bacon. Come and get it," Hicks said, nodding to Newt and Ripley to join him. "Bishop, you want any of this?"
The synthetic shook his head and remained where he stood by the mess table.
"No. Thank you. I will be unable to process any food or liquid until my lower body is completely repaired. The nanites will suffice for now."
Hicks frowned a little, his eyes concerned, but then he nodded. Ripley busied herself with doling out breakfast for Newt. It was hard to consider that Hicks likely saw Bishop as an actual friend. The synthetic had definitely earned his place as far as Ripley was concerned, but it still didn't mean she was overly fond of artificial people as a whole. And even after Bishop's rescue of her and Newt, she wasn't sure she could picture him as a friend. He might have been programmed to keep humans from harm, but it didn't mean he could actually care for them. After all, he didn't exactly feel emotion did he? Or at least not to the extent that humans did. It was hard to have anything like a friendship that way. Or at least she'd always thought so. Watching Hicks and Bishop have the same kind of silent conversations she'd had with her crew once upon a time was challenging that assumption. She wasn't sure she liked it.
"Can I have another piece of bacon?" Newt's tentative voice broke into her thoughts, and Ripley smiled down at her.
"Of course." She dished out the extra piece and then quickly fixed a plate for herself before carrying both to the table. "Hicks, do you need help?" she asked softly, noticing belatedly that the Marine didn't seem to be getting anything for himself.
"Not up for food yet. I'll give the meds just a little longer. See if it settles my stomach." He grabbed another cup of coffee instead and set it on the table. "Be back in a sec."
He strode off after ruffling Newt's hair, the only clue to his discomfort in the way he held his left arm carefully to his chest. Ripley forced herself to focus on her plate, eating the imitation bacon and eggs mechanically. It could definitely have used some salt and pepper, she thought absently. She would have thought processed food would taste better after the 50 years she'd been gone, but apparently not. The sound of Hicks' footsteps reappeared behind her and then the tall man sank down at the table beside her. Ripley turned to offer him his mug of coffee and then stared. Slung across his right shoulder was one of the rifles.
"You think that's necessary?" she asked, more than a little worried. Granted, she'd regretted the fact that she was unarmed when Newt had screamed, but they'd be at the station before too long. What threat was he expecting anyway? He shrugged and pulled a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one and taking a long drag before he answered.
"Felt a little naked without it."
Ripley couldn't help it: she snorted out half a laugh before covering it with a cough.
"Without the weapon, but not without the shirt?" she asked pointedly. He just smirked at her and took another drag of his cigarette.
"Here I was thinking you hadn't noticed," he said quietly, the hint of mischief on what was visible of his face getting easier to see.
"That you didn't have a shirt? It had slipped my mind. The gun was more obvious." They exchanged a quick wicked grin, and Ripley wondered at just how easy it was to flirt with this man. He just… well he wasn't her type. At all. She'd always preferred older, intellectual types like her professor of an ex-husband, who liked an intelligent woman to take out to museums and opera. There was just something she liked about a man with a bit of class. Not that she ran in those circles often, but when she'd had the chance? Absolutely. But really, those kinds of men would be the kind to talk about the political ramifications of women in the military. Not the kind of men who actually were in the military.
She picked at her food, somehow annoyed with herself for the thoughts. Hicks must have caught something of her irritation in her expression, and he raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking if anything was wrong. She shook her head and just took another drink of her coffee in an attempt to hide her face from him. He read her too damned easily.
And there in lay the problem she thought. Intellectual or no, he read her better than any other man she'd ever known. And sure, he was definitely younger than her, a little younger than she was all that comfortable with frankly, but he felt like an equal. He clearly respected her as such too, and damned if she could figure out why that was so attractive. It wasn't just respect either; he somehow made her feel cherished. All but beat to hell, he'd managed to finagle a decent meal for Ripley and Newt and taken the time to make sure they ate their fill and had as much as they wanted to drink. He didn't have to cater to either of them, Ripley knew, but he had. Even in the middle of the shit they'd been through, he'd taken the time to treat both of them well. And as Ripley'd seen all too clearly on the faces of some of the others in the squad, neither the outsider consultant or the orphaned child had been exactly welcomed in their midst. She'd never felt that from Hicks, though.
She shook her head at herself and took another long draught of coffee. The hell with it, she thought. Even if it was only due to the danger they'd been in or the fact that he was the only surviving man around at all, she was drawn to him. Would likely remain drawn to him if they were allowed to stay even remotely near each other once the fallout from the disastrous mission actually hit. At the very least, she mused, tossing Hicks a shy smile as she set down her cup, the man could kiss like none other. He'd be worth keeping around for that reason alone. Plus, hadn't her old friend Marcie once told her that there were benefits to a military man? Something about focus and stamina, Ripley thought it was. It might be worth finding out first hand. If he stayed interested anyway. There wasn't exactly a guarantee of that. The adrenaline reaction and attraction might easily wear off on his end. She certainly hoped it didn't.
She looked down at what was left of the egg mess on her plate and decided she just wasn't up to attempting any more of it. She stood and was reaching to place all of her dishes together when a sudden hard thud echoed through the ship and something sent all of them shaking and careening about for a second.
Ripley managed not to fall by grabbing onto the table, but Bishop wasn't quite so lucky. Hicks had reached for Newt and somehow kept the pair of them upright, though Ripley wasn't sure how.
"What in the hell…" Ripley trailed off as the unmistakable sound of the airlock being opened and a thunder of running booted feet had them all turning to stare in shock. There was no way they'd reached the station yet. Who the hell were these people?
"Scan says they're in the mess. Get them covered now! Pilot, get us on course, ASAP. We've wasted too much time already." A voice shouted orders that rang down the hall toward them, and in one quick motion, Hicks moved himself between Ripley and Newt and whoever it was that was running toward them. He held the weapon easily, and Ripley wondered just how much pain he was putting himself through to hide his weakness that way. She pulled Newt close, turning so the little girl was just a touch behind her, and she nodded approval as she noticed Bishop moving to flank Newt's far side.
Then men and women stormed into the mess to surround the ragged little quartet. Ripley guessed they were likely to be another squad of Marines just judging from the now familiar weaponry and BDUs, but why they'd boarded the Sulaco, she didn't know. She took her cue from Hicks and just kept silent and tried not to tremble under the weight of all the weapons pointed at her and the others. These were just people, armed yes, but just people, she reminded herself. She'd faced down a fucking xenomorph queen; she could handle a few little soldiers.
After a moment of stand off, a pair of older men strode in with what looked to be a civilian between them. The shorter of the two men stepped forward to survey the 4 captives starting with Bishop and making his way to Hicks. If there was any approval at the one surviving Marine's protective stance, Ripley didn't see it. The officer in charge, or so Ripley guessed he must be, clasped his hands behind him and then spoke.
"Stand down, soldier."
"With all due respect, sir, that ain't gonna happen." Ripley shivered a little at the sound of the steel in Hicks's voice. She hoped the stranger didn't do anything stupid; she'd seen first hand just how immovable Hicks could be when he took that tone. "Not until your squad lowers their weapons."
The older man and Hicks stared at each other silently for another moment, the male posturing practically filling the air with testosterone. Then the stranger let out a rough bark of laughter and waved to the other soldiers.
"Stand down, men. Don't want Hicks to get himself a twitchy trigger finger." Almost as one, though clearly confused about it, the squad lowered their weapons. Hicks relaxed a hair and finally let his weapon fall back to hang by the shoulder strap. Then the stranger strode forward to clasp Hicks's hand warmly. "How you been? Ain't seen you in a dog's age."
Ripley eased out from behind her protector just enough to see his face beneath the bandages. He was smiling a little, just a little, but it was enough to let her breath a bit easier.
"Captain Connor. It's good to see you, but why the hell are you all here?" Before Connor could respond, the scientist type broke in, agitated about something or so Ripley guessed from the way the woman was almost twitching.
"That is strictly classified, need to know only." Ripley felt her hackles rise at the woman's dismissive attitude, and Ripley's ire only continued to grow as she went on. "Captain, I want these three taken into custody on the double. We don't have time for chitchat. I want the hold searched and-"
"Look, if you're here about the xenomorph, then we damned well need to know." Ripley didn't bother to hide her aggravation with the annoying little shrew. Who the hell did she think she was anyway? Hicks was tensing up again, and Ripley noted his hand drifting back toward his weapon. The company woman didn't seem to notice the imminent threat though, and if anything Ripley's opinion of her dropped even lower.
"Look, Miss Ripley, I assume? You're in hot water here as it is. I'd suggest you cooperate now before even more charges are pressed against you."
Hicks broke in before Ripley reached the end of her temper and did something stupid like lunge at the bitch.
"What charges? Damn it, Captain, what the hell's going on? We were lucky to even survive that fucking place. What could we have possibly done to have charges brought?"
The strange woman sneered.
"What you're pulling out the 'oh so dangerous alien' tripe like her, now? As if that song and dance is going to work. We have records of the compound being destroyed, and someone is going to answer that." She waved Hicks and Ripley away as if they were suddenly beneath her. "You know what? I'm not going to waste time with a grunt. Where are Carter Burke and Lieutenant Gorman? I want to speak to the men in charge."
There was a moment of painful silence as Ripley and the others realized that the newcomers had no idea what was really going on. Clearly the woman had read through Ripley's file and thought it to be nothing more than a work of fiction. If she already thought Ripley's report was full of shit, and if the only way anyone had known about the colony destruction due to some sensor going off back home… Well, then those around them could believe just about anything. And that meant it would be that much harder to convince everyone that the colony itself was beyond dangerous.
"Well, where are they already?" she demanded.
"They're dead. They're all dead." Everyone turned to look at the synthetic who'd spoke. Bishop was solemn, and somehow his lack of overt reaction made his statement that much more poignant. "I'm sorry to inform you, but the four of us are the only survivors, both from the colony and the team sent to investigate."
"But... no… That's just… You're lying!" The woman was absolutely livid and shaking, but Bishop remained calm as only a synthetic could.
"I have no reason to lie." He half-shrugged to Ripley and his fellow survivors. "There is no one else."
That was apparently more than the woman could take, and she lunged at Bishop, lashing out at Ripley and Newt as she passed. Connor and one of his Marines grabbed her arms and pulled her back. She just kept screaming at the group of survivors, and Ripley shivered at the sheer hate in her voice.
"Fuck you all! That's not true. Damn it, that's not true! Now you bring me Carter, you son of a bitch! What have you done with him?" She was crying hysterically now, flat out sobbing as she fought the hands on her arms. "What have you done with him? He's not dead… He can't be dead…" She trailed off and suddenly went limp, her hysterics sapping her energy all at once. The soldier holding her looked more than a little panicked at the suddenly lifeless woman in his arms, and Ripley shook her head a little in commiseration.
"Who was he to you?" she asked softly, more out of curiosity than true compassion.
"My fiancé." She met Ripley's eyes and the emptiness there set Ripley shaking. "We were supposed to get married in a few months. He just had to go on this stupid business trip…"
She trailed off, and Ripley found there wasn't much she could say.
"I am truly sorry for your loss. There wasn't anything we could do." That was true enough, Ripley thought, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice and expression at the thought of Burke's final moments: the ones after he'd locked the rest of them out of the assumed safety of the medical bay. It was odd to see anyone mourning the bastard. She had no idea of the way he'd died though, and Ripley didn't see how it would do any good to tell her right at that moment. She'd have to find out the basics eventually, whenever she calmed down enough to demand a debrief from Ripley and Hicks, but for now, Ripley thought she'd just let the other woman have a moment to mourn the man she'd apparently thought her fiancé to be.
After a moment, the woman straightened, her eyes still vague but anger and an ugly hate creeping into her expression.
"You'll pay for his death. All of you. I'll make sure of it."
