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As Hicks motioned at Ripley to follow him, the last thing she ever expected to see was a tiny, terror-stricken child hiding in one of the steel cabins of the deserted Hadley’s Hope colony. A familiar instinct, one she hadn’t tapped into for over 57 hypersleep-filled years, seemed to awaken in her as Ripley calmly attempted to persuade the feral-like girl out of her hiding spot. After a failed attempt and Hicks getting chomped on as a result, Ripley understood she was gonna have to be fast in order to catch the little girl and get her to safety.
Ripley followed through one of the many air ducts, eventually cornering the child in what looked to be a poorly built safe haven. She stood still for a moment, studying the girl and her environment. Discarded food scraps, toys, games and books cluttered around the area; it would’ve been any little kid’s paradise in better circumstances. Ripley moved slowly, never taking her eyes off the child. She was breathing heavily, looking around for a means of escape.
“It’s okay,” the woman spoke in a hushed tone, the same voice she would use trying to coax Jonesy out from under the bed. “I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t be afraid, it’s alright now.”
As she got closer, the kid attempted to make a break for another air duct only to be caught by Ripley’s strong grip. The little one squirmed and growled in her arms, but fell quiet, running out of energy quickly. Ripley brushed the unkempt and tangled mess of hair out of the girl’s face to look at her, making sure she hadn’t gone unconscious.
A shiny object amidst the clutter caught Ripley’s attention and she picked it up. It was a photograph of a little girl, school clothes neat and tidy and a smile on her face. Below the photo, there was a small description: Second Grade Citizenship Award - Rebecca Jorden.
Ripley took another glance at the kid, finding it hard to believe that the girl in the picture was the same one trembling in her grip. She could hear Hicks and the other soldiers calling her from the entrance of the air shaft. She responded and began to crawl her way back, still holding the small Rebecca Jordan in her arms.
Ripley walked into the manager’s office of the colony where they had placed the child in order to be examined by Dietrich. The medic confirmed her to be okay physically, albeit a bit underweight caused by lack of any substantial food. She still hadn’t spoken a word or even made direct eye contact with anyone.
Lieutenant Gorman was failing miserably in his attempts to get her to speak. Asking too many questions in a highly demanding voice. Clearly he had no experience around children.
Ripley rolled her eyes, telling him off. “Gorman, give it a rest would you?”
The Lieutenant sighed and left the room with Dietrich following after him. Ripley took a seat next to the desk the girl sat on, still unmoving and silent. She held up a small cup of hot chocolate, gently taking one of the girl’s tiny hands and wrapping it around the mug. She still stared off into space as Ripley lifted the cup to her lips, helping her drink.
“That good, huh?” The woman quipped as she took the mug back. Chocolate began to drip down the little girl’s chin.
Picking up a soft rag and sanitized water, Ripley wiped the child’s chin clean. When she didn’t get any protest about physical touch, she proceeded to wash the rest of her face.
“Hard to believe there’s a little girl underneath all this,” Ripley mused as she continued to clean. “And a pretty one, too.”
For the first time since their encounter, small, blue eyes met brown ones. ‘Making progress,’ Ripley thought and she smiled to herself. She remembered the photograph she found and wondered what could’ve happened to make a young, bright girl into a feral, damaged survivalist.
“I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay alive, but you’re one brave kid, Rebecca.”
A sound. A small voice as quiet as a mouse. “N…Newt.”
Ripley looked up, thinking she was hearing things. Blue eyes stared back at her, acknowledging. The ex-pilot set down the rag, her full attention on the girl. “What’d you say?”
“Newt.” The voice repeated, soft and sweet despite the frown permanently fixed on her face. “My name’s Newt. Nobody calls me Rebecca, except my brother.”
Ripley’s smile grew the longer she talked. An adorable name for an adorable girl. “Newt? I like that. I’m Ripley, it’s nice to meet you.”
Newt said nothing after that. Eyes shifting down to the doll head she held in a death grip. Ripley took notice.
“And who’s this?” She asked.
“Casey.”
“Hello, Casey,” Ripley greeted. She looked back at Newt, wondering about the rest of the child’s family. “What about your brother? What’s his name?”
“Timmy.” Newt blinked sadly. She hadn’t said her brother’s name in what seemed like forever. The concept of time became foreign to her after a while. She couldn’t tell apart the days from the weeks. All she knew was how to tell when it was light or dark outside. And darkness brought the monsters…mostly.
“Is Timmy around here too? Maybe hiding in the vents like you were?” Ripley wondered.
Newt returned to her quiet state, shaking her head. She shook it again when Ripley asked if she had any sisters, but began to nod when asked if she had a mother and father.
“Newt, look at me,” the woman pleaded and tilted the child’s chin up to meet her gaze. “Where are they?”
Tears filled Newt’s eyes as she spoke, firm and angry. “They’re dead, all right? Can I go now?”
Ripley froze. That confirmation made it all too clear and the Nostromo survivor felt her already broken heart shatter more. Newt had lost everyone, save for a plastic doll head that she carried around like a security blanket. No family, no friends, no one to look after her - she was alone.
‘The hell she is,’ Ripley told herself. She knew what this girl had gone through, what she was currently going through. And she’d be damned if she was gonna let Newt suffer alone. She couldn’t be there for Amy. The Alien and 57 years of hypersleep made sure of that, but damn it she was gonna be there for Newt until her last breath. And hopefully it would never come to that.
“I’m sorry, Newt.” Ripley apologized, her voice soft and understanding. “Don’t you think you would be safer here with us?”
Newt shook her head.
Ripley tried to reassure her. That her friends were soldiers and they would protect her from any harm. But Newt just shrugged and spoke about what she knew in her mind and heart to be the cold, honest truth. “It won’t make any difference.”
Newt had been right.
What began as a search and rescue quickly turned into a massacre. Hicks, Hudson and Vasquez were the only soldiers who returned alive, Gorman was knocked unconscious and as if things couldn’t get any worse (they always did in Ripley’s case), Ferro and Spunkmeyer had also been killed and the dropship was destroyed.
Tensions grew higher and higher in the group as they strategized the best plan for survival. Ripley began to take charge alongside Hicks. She didn’t plan on making the same mistakes like on the Nostromo. This time they would all survive.
Everyone had a job to do. Even Newt helped around where she could. It was only when Ripley noticed that the child could barely keep her eyes open that she decided enough was enough.
“C’mon, Newt.” Ripley had said and picked up the eight-year-old. Newt didn’t argue, allowing herself to be carried to wherever Ripley was taking her.
As she walked to the MedLab cradling a tired child in her arms, Ripley felt a wave of sickening nostalgia wash over her. Briefly flashing back to her old life on Earth; putting another child to bed every night, the night where she had to explain she’d be going away for awhile, promising that she would be back for the child’s eleventh birthday.
A broken promise.
Ripley blinked away the memory as the doors to the operations room slid open. There she placed Newt down on the cot and tucked her in. “Now you lay down here and have a nap, you’re very tired.”
Newt frowned and whimpered. “I don’t want to. I have scary dreams.”
‘You and me both, Kid’, Ripley wanted to say. She never dreamed anymore, there was no point. They always turned into nightmares eventually. The last decent dream she had was well over half a century ago, and even then she couldn’t recall what it was about.
“I bet Casey doesn’t have scary dreams,” Ripley raised an eyebrow and looked inside the doll’s hollow head. “Nope! Nothing bad in there. Maybe you could try to be like her.”
Newt stared at the woman with a deadpan expression. She spoke with a matter-of-fact tone that made her sound more adult than child. “Ripley, Casey doesn’t have bad dreams because she’s just a piece of plastic.”
Ripley couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes she forgot how smart this little girl was. “I’m sorry, Newt.”
The young survivor held Casey closer to her as Ripley turned on a portable space heater next to the cot. Newt tried to remember the last time she was tucked into bed by her own mother. She bit her lip and peered up at Ripley with confused, hurt eyes.
“My mommy always said there were no monsters, no real ones, but there are. Why do they tell little kids that?”
Ripley smiled sadly. “Most of the time it’s true.” She’d love to return to that innocent, naive mindset - not knowing or worrying about what might be out there lurking in the depths of the unknown.
Newt recalled the agonizing noises of one of the colonists on the monitor begging to be killed before the creature tore its way out of their abdomen. She didn’t need to see in order to understand what was happening. “Did one of those things grow inside her?” Newt asked.
“I don’t know, Newt.” Ripley answered. “That’s the truth.”
“Isn’t that how babies come? People babies? They grow inside you, right?”
The older woman laughed again. “Oh, that’s very different.” The kid was well mature beyond her years, but still way too young for that particular conversation.
Newt blinked before innocently asking. “Did you ever have a baby?”
Ripley could feel her smile falter, but she tried her best to keep a strong face for Newt. “Yes I did. I had a little girl.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s gone.”
Newt frowned. “You mean dead.”
She didn’t need to respond. Newt was too smart for her own good, but then again that’s how she stayed alive for all those long weeks: hiding, crawling, moving into places others couldn’t get to. Remembering the tracker that Hicks had given her, Ripley removed the watch and wrapped it around the child’s tiny wrist. Then she turned the overhead lamp off and was about to leave when Newt tugged on her jacket.
“Don’t go, please!” She begged. She didn’t want to be on her own again, not when she had someone like Ripley to look out for her.
“Newt, I’m gonna be right in the next room,” Ripley tried to explain to the frightened kid. In all honesty, she’d love nothing more than to rest her eyes with Newt by her side, but knew that she had other important things to take care of if all of them were going to make it off Acheron.
She pointed to the corner of the room. “You see that camera right there? I can see you through that tiny camera all the time to make sure you’re okay.”
Ripley brushed strands of hair out of the girl’s face. “I’m not gonna leave you, Newt, I mean that. That’s a promise.”
“You promise?”
She nodded. This time she was gonna make sure she kept this one. “I cross my heart.”
“And hope to die?”
“And hope to die.”
Newt, satisfied and feeling safer, wrapped her arms around Ripley’s neck. The woman held the girl tightly, just like she did when they first met, only this time Newt wasn’t trying to scramble away. She kissed the girl’s matted hair and laid her back down once more.
She looked down at Newt, her small blue eyes trying to fight back the sleep that was overtaking her. It was then, Ripley realized, she was granted a second chance. Another chance to protect, to comfort, to love a daughter. “Now go to sleep and don’t dream.”
As hard as she tried, poor Newt couldn’t keep the nightmares out of her head. She tossed and turned on the cot, staring up at the camera that Ripley had told her about and wondered if her protector could see the mental distress she was in. Even though the mattress she lay on was comfortable, much better than sleeping in the air ducts, she felt exposed. What if the monsters could see her sleeping? They’d surely come and attack her, just like they did with the rest of her family.
So, Newt decided to do the thing she was best at. She hid herself and Casey underneath the bed, curling up in a ball to keep warm.
Ripley had entered the room a half hour later to check on Newt. Seeing that the bed was empty made her pause with worry, but was relieved when she looked underneath and found the girl safe and asleep. She placed the pulse rifle on top of the bed and crawled under, careful not to wake the little girl who began to stir anxiously - result of a nightmare. Ripley put an arm around Newt, whispering comforting assurances in her ear. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe.”
Newt began to settle as Ripley continued to hold her close, planting another kiss on her head. As she lay next to the child, Ripley herself began to fall asleep. A little cat nap never hurt anyone, she thought.
Apparently, she was wrong.
Ripley never considered Carter Burke to be a friend, much less an ally. She could tell from the moment she laid eyes on him that this man had a hidden agenda (anyone who represented the company was at the top of her suspicions list). Burke was the living embodiment of what the company stood for; sleazy, indifferent, greedy assholes who would do everything in their power to get what they wanted, everyone else be damned. As long as they could fill their pockets.
The group stormed back into Operations, soaking wet from the sprinklers in the MedLab going off and it took all of Ripley’s self control not to walk up to Burke and slam his head against the desk. Luckily, Hutson was already on the job as he aimed his rifle at the man, finger steadily on the trigger.
Ripley explained Burke’s true intentions to the remaining marines and the odds were certainly not in his favor as he had four angry soldiers glaring at him and readying their weapons.
But the aliens had other plans in store for them.
“Not bad for a human.” Bishop had said to her, literally half of the android he once was.
She had escaped the colony, blasted the Xenomorph Queen out of the airlock and best of all, she wasn’t the last survivor. Newt helped Ripley drag Bishop’s upper half back onto the ship, to the best of her ability. The synthetic would have to wait until they made it back to Earth to be repaired. Ripley was by no means an expert; she could barely get Ash’s severed head to work and that kind of technology was deemed obsolete nowadays. Hicks was still passed out due to his injuries and Ripley made a mental note to change the Corporal’s bandages before placing him in hypersleep.
Newt followed Ripley into the medical ward, looking for a stretcher to carry Hicks and Bishop. The android was insistent on being helped last, prioritizing the others over his own being. The girl remained mute as she shadowed the older woman.
After escorting the unconscious marine and android to Medical, the two soul survivors of alien attacks had some time to themselves. Newt finally got a shower and a clean set of clothing, her hair now tidy and brushed. Afterwards, adult and child made their way to the mess hall to grab something to eat. It had been at least a day and a half since either of them had anything substantial. It wouldn’t be a five star meal exactly, but it was still food.
While enjoying their dinner, Newt finally spoke up. “I miss Casey.”
Ripley eyed the girl sadly. Even if Casey had only been a piece of plastic, she knew the safety and comfort the doll head had brought Newt. To lose her was like losing a good friend. And they’d already lost enough of those within the past twenty four hours. “I know you miss her, Hon. I’m sorry.”
“She was my only friend.” Newt paused. “Until I met you. Casey was special though, she was always there for me when I was scared or lonely. Have you ever had a friend like that?”
Ripley didn’t need to think about that question for too long. An orange bundle of fur who was waiting for her back home on Earth in her crummy, little apartment came to mind. “I did, I still do. He’s a cat named Jones.”
Newt's eyes widened with excitement. She wasn’t allowed to have any animals of her own back on Hadley’s Hope, so the idea of getting to pet a cat for the first time made her smile. “A cat? Can I meet him?”
“When we get home, I promise.” Ripley said.
Ripley had her worries about what would happen when they made it back earth-side. The company wasn’t going to be happy when they found out an entire colony had been destroyed, reduced to nothing but ash, but then again the company was never happy. They’d want answers, naturally, but whether or not they decided to believe an ex-warrant officer, a marine (or as Burke referred to him: a grunt), a little girl and an android who was literally programmed not to lie, would be up to them.
The company could lock them all up if they wanted, Ripley knew. Hell, they’d probably send Bishop to the junkyard, discharge Hicks from the colonial marines and separate her from Newt. But she would make sure that wouldn’t happen. Because if it did, the company would face a wrath even deadlier than the Xenomorph Queen herself.
After finishing dinner, Ripley and Newt prepared for hypersleep. Hicks and Bishop were already in their pods and Newt watched with a solemn expression as the hatches closed, sealing them safely inside.
Crawling into her own pod, she found it was more comfortable than it looked, much different than the cots in MedLab and much different than sleeping on the ground. She looked up at Ripley - her protector, her mother. “Are we gonna sleep all the way home?”
“All the way home.” She confirmed.
“Can I dream?” Newt asked.
Ripley tucked the girl’s clean hair behind her ear. “Yes, Honey, I think we both can.”
They had made it back to Earth.
It only took about four weeks and not another fifty-seven years, much to Ripley’s delight.
The Sulaco docked at Gateway Station. The small group of survivors awoke, groggy and confused (especially Hicks, who was waking up from a mixture of hypersleep and morphine for his injuries). They only had a few minutes to themselves before the ship had been stormed with agents, medical professionals and other questionable people who didn’t look so friendly.
Newt hid behind Ripley, who in turn had a protective grip on the child. No one was taking her daughter away from her again. Not while she was here, awake and ready to fight off anybody who so much as looked in Newt’s direction.
“Ripley, I’m scared,” the girl whispered, clinging tighter to the adult’s pant leg.
The woman replied, sincerity in her voice. “Me too.”
Hicks was going to be okay. Permanently scarred, but okay. Newt and Ripley got to see the marine after the doctors were finished treating his burns. The young girl was crying as the Corporal sat up and wrapped her in a bear hug, delighted to see her safe and sound.
“Looks like you’ll have more war stories to tell around the campfire,” Ripley joked, addressing the still-healing acid burns.
Hicks cracked a smile and scoffed. “No way, after this, I’m officially retired.”
The stubble on his face had grown, resembling a five o’clock shadow, Ripley noticed. They had been at Gateway for a few days and they would remain there for at least a couple weeks - quarantine law. Newt hadn’t left her side; not that the mother would let anyone take the girl without her close supervision. She made that perfectly clear, glaring daggers at anyone who looked like they represented the company. They were watching them, she knew, and no doubt they were gonna continue watching until another dreaded briefing Ripley was too exhausted to even think about.
Hicks cleared his throat. “So, now what? The fat-cat’s wanna talk to us yet?”
Ripley crossed her arms, sitting down in the chair next to the soldier’s bedside. “Once we’re cleared of quarantine, yes. I wouldn’t get your hopes up. This won’t be the hero’s welcome you’re expecting.”
Hicks laid back down, Newt was slowly drifting off in his arms, listening in and out to the adult’s conversation. “As long as they don’t send us back into space on a suicide mission, I’ll take what I can get.”
Two weeks went by slowly and uneventfully. Each day they were monitored and watched. It seemed that most of the company scientists lost interest when they realized neither of the survivors were harboring an alien embryo.
It was time for another hearing and Ripley was more worried than the last time she was in this situation. She had much more to lose. But within those long weeks and while Hicks was recovering, the adults had a lot of time to talk, to plan.
When checking the colony log back on Acheron and discovering that Burke, as well as the company itself, caused the deaths of all those innocents, Ripley made sure to save the entire order on a disk. The right moment would present itself one day. She could die happy, watching Weyland-Yutani crash and burn.
After moments of waiting, they were called into the boardroom. Newt reluctantly agreed to wait outside.
Luckily for all their sakes, the meeting didn’t take hours of bickering and arguing. Ripley and Hicks were informed that the events transpired on LV-426 were deemed classified information, not to be discussed in the general public.
‘Typical,’ Ripley rolled her eyes. Covering their tracks, as usual.
She asked about Bishop, haven’t seen the android since they first arrived back on Earth. One of the reps informed her he was to be repaired and reprogrammed. All data of the events that took place on Acheron would be erased. The synthetic would have no recollect of who they were or what they had gone through.
It was odd for Ripley to feel any emotion for an android that wasn’t blind distrust or anger. After what happened with Ash, she never wanted to cross another artificial being for as long as she lived. She made it crystal clear to Bishop and everyone else on the Sulaco that she felt indifferent towards the machine. But over time and given that his actions saved their skins more than once, Ripley was thankful they had someone like Bishop around. It pained her to realize that he wouldn’t be able to understand why she would thank him for saving their lives and apologize for her rash behavior when they first met.
To make sure their silence was secured, the company made an offer Ripley wanted to refuse, but couldn’t. If she was to take care of Newt and herself, she was going to need all the help she could get. At least until she was able to land another job.
A large sum of money, benefits and a chance to regain her pilot’s license - all of this to make sure she and Hicks kept their mouths shut about the deaths of 157 colonists.
It took awhile before the group of now three survivors left Gateway Station and returned to their home planet. At least it was a familiar home to the adults. Newt, having been raised in the colonies, had only learned about Earth in school. Pictures and videos had been her only source of the blue skies and green grass that defined the planet. Ripley watched with a heartfelt smile as the girl began to admire the new environment in wonder.
Hicks mentions something about a few decent places he knew near the countryside; small populations, big houses (enough space to raise a kid for sure), lots of decent job opportunities working in welding and loading by the docks. The retired marine offered to go scouting, assuring the woman and child he’d return in a couple days with a place they could all stay at. Newt made Hicks pinkie promise that she would have a soft bed to sleep on.
The small family made it back to Ripley’s cramped apartment before saying their goodbyes.
“See you, Ellen.” The man spoke in a soft tone and winked.
Ripley smiled, recalling the moment they shared before she went off to face certain death. “Don’t be gone long, Dwayne.”
Newt looked between them, confused, wondering why the adults were calling each other by different names.
Having herself and a cat in the apartment was crowded enough. But now with a little girl to look after, there almost wasn’t sufficient room for any of them. Ripley hoped that Hicks would return sooner than expected with the keys to a new place. Somewhere nice and quiet where the company couldn’t send their goons to spy on every move they made. A place where Newt could grow up safe and happy.
Jones had taken an immediate liking to Newt, who hadn’t let him out of her sights for more than a minute. Ripley watched the two fondly as Jones was swiping at a piece of string Newt was dangling in front of him, giggling all the while. It was a familiar sound that briefly filled her heart with sorrow, thinking about the last time she had heard a child laughing.
A different time, another life.
Nightfall had come around and Newt peacefully rested on the twin bed that Ripley would find herself screaming awake on every night. She didn’t mind at all. Finding herself dozing off on the tiny couch across from the bed.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when she was awoken by a small hand shaking her awake. Instinctively, Ripley shot up. Paranoia had made her a light sleeper. She looked next to her and saw the small figure rubbing her red, puffy eyes. She had been crying.
“Newt, what’s wrong?” Ripley asked. Even in the dark she was able to brush away the tears falling down the child’s distraught face.
Newt didn’t say a word, burying herself in Ripley’s side and continuing to sob into the woman’s cotton t-shirt. Strong arms picked her up and rocked her gently as soft kisses were planted on her head.
“It’s okay, Sweetheart,” Ripley cooed and rubbed the girl’s back. “I’m here, you’re alright now.”
She carried her back over to the bed, sitting down and placing Newt in her lap. The little girl tried to get the words out without choking up, but to no avail. “I miss t-them. I m-miss my family! Mom, Dad, Timmy…”
Ripley held Newt closer as she continued to weep. “Oh, baby girl…”
“I can hear them in my head sometimes,” Newt whimpered. “The screams. A-and then the monsters come and they-" She began to panic.
Ripley placed a hand on the girl’s back. “Breathe, honey, breathe.”
Newt sucked in air and let out shuddering breaths. Ripley coached her through until she was calmer. “Deep breath in…and let it out.”
Jones had sensed the commotion in the room and hopped up on the bed. The feline rubbed his head on the child’s arm and she began to pet him. He purred loudly and curled next to her; Newt found comfort in running her fingers through the cat’s soft fur.
Eventually, the two survivors lay back down with Jones relocating to the foot of the bed, where he always slept. Newt snuggled closer to Ripley as she covered them both with a blanket. The adult stayed awake, just to be sure Newt wouldn’t be tormented by persistent nightmares. In Ripley’s experience, bad dreams would always resume the instant she closed her eyes again.
It was small moments like this that made Ripley feel she could have a peaceful life, a loving family, freedom. She missed being a mother; the walks in the park after schooldays, trips to the zoo, telling stories about the wonders of space. She hoped one day to share the same experiences with Newt, to watch her grow into the intelligent, resourceful young lady Ripley knew she would be.
Feeling the girl shift and twitch at her side, Ripley wrapped a protective arm around her and began to sing softly. “You are my lucky star…”