Author's notes: In this chapter, there will once again be hints to the events that occurred in the game Alien Isolation as I had done earlier in chapter 24. I apologize again to those that are not that familiar with it, hopefully it won't get too confusing. I probably should give a spoiler warning though to be on the safe side: there's an important plot which I brought out from there to play a major part in the story.

On further notes, the unknown relative walking into Ripley's life in this chapter is my own creation.

On with the story…

The accommodations sure could have been a lot worse. The police had been at loss where they would put Ripley after they had brought her in to the station. Normally, since she was under arrest, they would have put her in a holding cell until the formal charges were raised. But with a seven-year old child chained to her wrist with handcuffs they didn't dare to tamper with, a cell was not an option. The scandal would be enormous if came out that they had locked up a juvenile behind bars. The only thing they could do was to put the chained couple in a visitor's lounge farthest in within the station behind a locked door. After a while the police concluded that the prisoner didn't need to be watched. The woman simply sat still in the sofa and was giving them no trouble at all. She hadn't even resisted arrest.

The child was stretched out beside the adult in the sofa resting her head on the woman's thigh. She was fast asleep, the last days' toll having totally worn her out. Ripley had her left arm draped over Newt's body so that she could hold on to the little hand that was positioned right above the young's chest – that way the chain of the handcuffs wouldn't be stretched. Ripley's right hand was free to tenderly caress the honey-blond tresses of the sleeping girl, soothing her so that she could give the child a more pleasant rest, and hopefully spare her of any otherwise re-occurring nightmares.

The door unlocked, and the captain that had lead the police force outside of the Tracking and Data Relay Satellite System Receiving Station came in with a coffee-mug in his hand. Ripley half expected the captain to try to interrogate her, but she had already made it clear to him that she would not say anything without a lawyer present – and that sure wasn't an easy demand. What lawyer was there that she could trust? The one she had before had proven to be corrupted, so he was out of the question. Weyland's last words still swam in her head: any counsel for the defense she'd try to get to take the case he would buy out. Weyland was going to make sure that Ripley went back to prison unless she agreed to drop all accusations. But she felt that that was something she couldn't do. If the Company went free of the responsibility, it would result in that the crew of the Nostromo, the colonists of Hadley's Hope, and the team of marines: they all would have died for nothing. She couldn't just let it go and live with it. She'd see their faces and hear their screams every time she rested her head on a pillow, crying for justice.

The captain didn't seem interested in questioning her though; he only sat down in a chair opposite hers, observing the couple as he put his mug on a nearby table. His gaze came to rest on the sleeping child.
"That's one heck of a kid," he remarked, remembering how she had totally outmaneuvered him.
"You don't know half of it," Ripley said softly, continuing to gently comb the locks of hair with her fingertips on the girl. "It's in her genes… I recently learned that it is a family trait."
"Is she your daughter?"
Ripley didn't answer right away. "She's not of my blood, if that is what you mean. She is, however very close to me, as I am to her. Way more than you think."
"I had it figured, considering how much she risked by her loyalty. I'd be feeling more secure if those cuffs got removed. You swear you don't know the code?"
"I didn't bother asking – I know that she won't tell it."
"Not until she is convinced that the two of you won't be separated?"
"Exactly!"

The captain sighed and took a sip of his coffee. "As a cop, I got the 'nose': I have the ability to make a good judgement of people just by 'smelling' them – that's necessary in my line of work as a hostage negotiator. Personally, I get clear signs that you are definitely not what your charges accuses you to be. You're no killer…"
"I most certainly am not," Ripley agreed.
"But my judgement holds no credit in this case. It just isn't up to me… but my instincts scream to me that there's more going on here than what I am privy to know… I'll have you know that I am not comfortable with being held in the dark."
"Neither am I. Never have been."
"So what can you tell me?"
Ripley had to smile. "Nice try. But my decision stands: I won't say anything without a lawyer. That's within my rights!"
The captain held out his hands from his sides. "But you won't give me any names to call!"
"That's because I can't be sure that I can trust them."

The captain grumbled in frustration. "This can't go on forever, you know. Sooner or later we will have to take drastic measures, and the outcome of that will not end up good! You two are going to have to make up your mind on how this will proceed, or we'll be forced to take it for you!" The captain went back for the door. "You can reach me on the intercom. Call when you need something."
"Some sandwiches would be nice." Ripley replied.
"Don't press your luck! You're still in custody and therefore not privy to that many privileges."
"How about for her?" she asked, indicating to the still sleeping child on her lap.
The captain rolled his eyes. "Christ, it is I who am being held hostage now… by a child! And she's not even awake to get her demands met!"

The sandwiches were brought in after an hour, but they were left on the plate as Newt slept on – Ripley didn't have the heart to wake her now that she was for once sleeping peacefully. It left her time to think about their current situation. The captain was right: this couldn't go on forever. But she couldn't for the world think of a way to get a lawyer that wouldn't be risk being bought out by the Company.
Another half an hour passed before the door opened again. It wasn't the captain this time, this was a younger officer. "You got a visitor," he announced.
Ripley squinted her eyes in suspicion. "Is he from the Company?"
"No, but he claims that he's a friend who's been trying to get hold of you for the last year."
Ripley grew even more suspicious. "I find that hard to believe. I don't have many friends or allies." There was truth to the statement. Ever since her 57-year long sleep, all her acquaintances from the past were to her knowledge all dead, and she never really had the time to form new relationships. Most of her time in the year that had gone by had been spent in jail.

"Well, he insists on seeing you," the young officer said, growing a bit impatient. "Do you want to receive him or not?"
Ripley thought it over. What harm could there be done? This was a police station, surely there was no one in his right mind who would attempt to try to do anything stupid here? There was a metal detector in the lobby, no one could get in with an unauthorized weapon and there were plenty of cops in the building. They should be relatively safe, so she might as well see who it is who insists on wanting to see her. She nodded her approval and the officer went back out.

The visitor was unsurprisingly a stranger. He was a man over his sixties, and everything was thin about him. Thin body, thin face with thinning grey hair that was balding, thin eyes, and a thin mustache. It seemed that he had been wearied out from a troubled life which made him appear much older, and he displayed a somewhat insecure expression when he saw her. To Ripley's bewilderment he was holding his portfolio tightly over his chest as if he was trying to put up a protection barrier between them.
"Ellen Ripley?" the newcomer asked. It was to the woman an inane question. Who else would she be? But she nodded in conformation anyway.

The visitor remained on his spot and twitched strangely. "Wow! This is really awkward… never in my life had I expected to finally meet you… I've heard much about you, but I never imagined how a meeting like this would be. It's weird… you're being so… young, and I'm an old man…"
"From my point of view, you're making it awkward right now!" Ripley pointed out.
"I'm sorry…" the man said, looking ashamed. "I really don't want you to get the wrong impression of me… I don't know how you might have imagined me…"
"How I imagined?!" Ripley asked, starting to get irritated. That woke up Newt, as she noticed how the atmosphere changed. The child rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she focused on the newcomer. Ripley went on with her reprimand. "Up until now, I didn't even know you existed, and I still don't know who you are! What do you want?"
Now the man old looked bewildered. "They didn't give you my name? I've been trying to get a hold of you for a year, ever since I heard you got back from outer space, but all I got in reply was refusals from you to see me…"
"Not from me," Ripley said. "Although it is not the first I've heard that the Company have been writing letters in my name." She was looking at Newt as she explained this, remembering how they had tricked the girl into thinking that the adult had turned her back on her. "I've been in isolation, with no contact with the outside world, whatsoever."

"And here I thought it was pure luck that you've finally relented and agreed to see me," the man said, suddenly looking angry. "That blasted Company…!"
So this man hated the Company too? That was interesting. "Well, here we finally are," Ripley said, shrugging. "So, what is it you want to see me about? For starters: who are you?"
The old man looked nervous again. "This was not expected… I always thought that you knew… Hrrm… then this might come as a surprise for you…" The man composed himself and stood himself straight. "My name is Rodney McClaren."
The last name rang a bell, but Ripley couldn't remember where she'd heard it. Then the man dropped the bomb. "I'm Amanda's husband. I'm your son-in-law!"

It took Rodney McClaren to show the pictures of his family-album in his phone to convince Ripley that he was who he claimed to be. The image of the elderly woman Carter Burke had showed her a little over a year ago had been undistinctive and impossible to reconcile with the memories Ripley had of her biological daughter – but the pictures that showed the couple in their younger years spoke out with more familiarity. Although Ripley was looking at a grown woman in the photos, she could make out the distinctive lines of the face and the eyes. They looked very much like her own, that was how she recognized her offspring. And though the husband looked younger and healthier in those pictures compared to the frail human sitting beside her now, she could make out the resemblance there as well, which told her that the photos were not fakes.
"In the beginning of our relationship and a bit into our marriage, Amy spoke of you a lot," Rodney said to her. "Naturally she was concerned that you never returned home as you had promised, but she was convinced that something bad had happened… and she got it confirmed. Did you know that the flight-recorder of the Nostromo was recovered?"
Ripley turned her head towards the other in an instant. This was news to her.

"It had been brought aboard the first Sevastopol space-station," Rodney continued. "Amy managed to get there. She didn't want to tell me what had happened over there, but she did manage to get to the recorder and replayed the last entries… she heard your personal message you had left her, Ellen. Mind if I call you Ellen? She knew that the Company had set you up for a covert mission that you weren't meant to return from."
Ripley was listening to every word Rodney was telling her, feeling her heart pounding. She had never told a single soul that she had taken the time to record a last message to her daughter aboard the Nostromo when everything else was lost and she was sure she was going to die.
"Amy wowed that the Company would answer for their crimes when she returned to Earth – that's when she looked me up. She needed a lawyer that shared the same aversion for the Company as she did…"
"Wait!" Ripley interrupted. "Are you a lawyer?!"
"Didn't I say? Anyway, I was still in the beginning of my career when Amanda approached me. She knew that she couldn't take down the Company by force, she needed to hurt them with laws. I was singled out because unlike the others, I refused to be bought by the Company. Other young accountants and lawyers were hired to wrench the law to Weyland's favor in any way they could and was handsomely paid, but I wouldn't let myself be corrupted. Unfortunately, that decision cost me a quick way into getting a grand reputation, so I have been making my way through the years as one of the lowest lawyers that no one was willing to hire.

"Ever since we met, we've been digging and turning over every rock we could in our attempt to confront the Company and prosecute them for their crimes, but their walls have just been too impenetrable. And the years just went by and… well, in the end we had to face the facts that there just wasn't enough we could find that would give us any leverage to bring Weyland to court. By then we were already growing old and it wasn't long after that when Amy was diagnosed with her cancer. But she was still thinking about you, Ellen. I confess that I was skeptical, but Amy was convinced that you were still out there somewhere. That's why before she grew too weak she wrote this…" McClaren brought out a thick envelope from his portfolio which he handed to Ripley. "On her death-bed she made me promise that I would carry this with me… she believed that you would eventually come back and that I should do everything I could to look you up and give this to you. It's a letter. It's personal, so I haven't read it."

It was with a shaking hand that Ripley took the sealed envelope. A letter from her daughter! She was both excited and terrified at the same time to read it, but she had to know what it said. There were quite many sheets inside, but the woman was determined to read them all! Newt sat quietly by her side, keeping her cuffed hand on the woman's thigh so that the chain wouldn't be taut. The child wouldn't say it aloud, but she was feeling a little jealous and abandoned. Ripley's mind was all fixed on a dead person instead of her. But she waited patiently, knowing, as well as hoping, it soon would pass.
All was quiet in the lounge while Ripley read the letter. As she got through sheet after sheet, tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. When she was finally finished, she turned her face up towards the ceiling with her eyes closed to compose herself.
"What did it say?" McClaren asked carefully. "Was it something bad?"
"No," Ripley whispered and smiled. "She forgave me."
McClaren nodded in understanding. He already knew that much of his late wife. "Amanda had a strong, and determined soul, but she also was of a righteous and understanding nature. She never put blame on anyone she knew wasn't responsible for the mess."
Ripley nodded. That sounded just like the child she had given birth to and raised.

"It must feel good now, just as it does to me," the man continued. "I have kept the promise to the woman I loved. Yet I can't get over that I actually managed to do it. Can you imagine my surprise when I learned that you had returned and realizing that she was right all along – that you were still out there under all this time? I went to Gateway Station the moment I got the news… but by then you had already left heading back to LV-426, although I couldn't figure out why?"
"It was something I had to do…" Ripley answered. "It was a debt I owed… although I didn't know at the time whom I owed it to." She wrapped her arm around Newt and hugged the child to her chest. "This is Newt. She's the last survivor of the colony on LV-426, and is just as much of a victim to the Company's crimes as all of us were. Everything I've done lately has been just as much for her as for me. I'm seeking retribution for both of us, for Amy, and for a soldier whom was arrested at the same time as I, but he was brought somewhere else for prosecution.

"There was more in the letter," Ripley continued. "She asked me to continue the work with you, to keep trying to find the proof we need to bring the Company down. We need to work fast though, as we're cutting it close with your illness and all."
Rodney McClaren barely cocked an eyebrow. "She included that, did she? It's kind of funny, really… when we married, I warned her that I would pass away before she did, yet here I am and she isn't. I'm suffering from a disease which slowly causes my organs to deteriorate and shut down, one at the time. The first to go in my youth was my reproductive systems… I've been sterile since childhood, that's why we never had any children. I've been going through several treatments since then to prolong my life. I've replaced heart and lungs three times, all financed by my darling wife, otherwise I'd already be dead. I've stopped the treatments after she died though, I didn't see the point with it anymore. My liver and kidney are already gone, and I won't go into details of my digestion systems.
"The point is, I'm a dying man. Although it is my greatest wish to fulfill the final wish of the woman I loved, my time is too limited to do it. According to my doctors, I should already be gone. Unless you can provide me with something that carries a tremendous weight against the Company that would bring them to their knees, I don't see how we can make a difference."

"Newt, give me the USB-stick." It had been one of Ripley's instant brainstorms, to let the child keep the USB-stick in her pocket before they were arrested. Ripley knew that there was a great risk that she would be searched, and the memory-stick would be confiscated and made disappear… but hopefully the authorities wouldn't go as far to frisk a little girl, and they hadn't.
Newt fished out the stick and handed it to Ripley. The child didn't know what to make of this man Rodney McClaren, but she trusted Ripley's judgement to trust him. Ripley in turn would never under any other circumstances trust a man she only recently just met, but she did trust her daughter Amanda's judgment. If Amy found this man honorable enough to marry, then he had to be okay in her book.
"The information in this was obtained from one of the Company's most guarded storage banks," Ripley explained as she handed the stick to her son-in-law. "It contains every dirty scrap of detail concerning what the Company did which caused so many deaths and destroyed properties and what they did to cover it up, including framing me! The secret order for the Nostromo to change course, cover stories, crew replacements, insurance frauds… everything!"

Rodney McClaren was looking at the stick with new-found exhilaration. "If what you say is true, then this isn't just dynamite: it's an atomic bomb!"
Just then the young police officer poked his head through the door: "Visit's over!" he called.
Ripley called back. "He's not a visitor. He's my lawyer!" The young officer looked totally dumbfounded and closed the door without another word.
"I will review this thoroughly," Rodney said. "I should be able to find what I need to file a formal charge against Michael Weyland, and I will write a request to, with your consent, re-open your case and take this to court!
"But Ellen, I hope you understand… in order to formally take position as counsel for your defense according to the rules, you will need to go back to a cell. You're going to have to remove those cuffs."

It wasn't an easy task to persuade Newt to give up the password for the special military-brand handcuffs. She cried and almost screamed, as she was certain that the police or other people would make it so that she wouldn't see the adult again if they got separated. She was terrified of the thought of being alone again. Ripley had to use every trick in the book to calm the child down and managing to convince her that it was a necessary course of action and that they wouldn't be kept away from each other indefinitely. The son-in-law would take charge of her and provide with a temporary residence so that no one would get the idea to haul her off back to her hated school in Washington. Newt was as emotional as the child she was, but she did also have a wisdom that was older than her actual years, so after a while she finally relented. The password for unlocking the handcuffs was one Ripley should have figured out herself: Casey. The name of Newt's favorite doll.

The captain was called in and he got genuinely surprised to see that the cuffs were removed and Ripley was prepared to go to a cell as the regulations stated. Rodney McClaren would fill out the necessary forms at the desk which would allow him to take the woman's case and he would file a request ensuring that she would not be transferred anywhere else before the trial. No one asked about Newt. As she was a juvenile, the police had no right to hold her there, so she was free to go.
It was with a heavy heart Ripley watched Newt walk out of there, but it was necessary to play it by the rules. And she felt certain that the child would be safe with her son-in-law. And she would soon see her again during visits – the though brought Ripley some comfort.

"Well?" Ripley said to the captain, sounding strangely cheerful. "Are you going to show me to a cell, or not?"