Spartan One 025

AN: Wanted to preface this chapter that Ripley is not a romance option for the MC. Yes, shocking I know, a female character in 2026 that isn't chattel for the MC, incredible.

~~~~~~~~

Name: Orion Winters

Level 7 -> 9 Sentinel 

7000 EXP to Next Level

Powers: Warp (IV), Shredder Ammo (IV), Tech Armor (II), Cryoblast (I)

Free Points: (5) 

Missions: 

1) N/A

2) Slay 1,000 enemies: 500xp

3) Slay 250 enemies SMG/Assault Rifle/Sniper/Shotgun/Pistol, [25 enemies: Rocket]...100xp each.

After completing another ‘main quest’ survival mission, Orion had leveled up twice the second the transport left the atmosphere of Hadley’s Hope. 

Slumping into an open seat, his body was jostled all about due to the vehicle's shitty internal dampeners, yet not a word of complaint left his mouth. 

Right now, at this very moment, his mind as a psychic was particularly active. Able to sense even the activities of nearby insects, he had pretty good perception. 

Yet the one thing that was most apparent, was the: silence. 

They had arrived on Hadley’s Hope with two transports, the kind that deployed on Klendathu & could transport dozens, if not hundreds of troops. Ordinarily, this wide, empty deck would be full of men boasting, and women rolling their eyes at their antics. 

Instead there was a scant handful of them left. All those young, hopeful people had ultimately been torn up due to the relentless assault of the Xenomorph Queen. 

Her psychic shield made her practically immune to bullets, not to mention the swarm of facehuggers & other aliens that had assaulted the line. 

Orion was reviewing a preliminary battle report, and despite facing off against dozens of Xenomorphs, his squad only touched the tip of the spear. Those poor bastards in the Mobile Infantry were truly unlucky. They had been expressly trained to find the enemy, and rapidly kill them. Instead, during this mission, their mobility didn't mean dick, and due to an intelligence error, were served up on the chopping block. 

Whilst he was deep in thought, Ripley rose from her seat, and walked up in front of him. Her emotions were full of righteous fury, and a deep unwillingness to let go. 

“I told you they were dangerous. I told you. You even claimed to know better! Why didn't you deploy more soldiers, why didn't you at least bomb the nest before landing?!” She shouted at him, her voice filled with accusation. 

This was the first time since transmigration that Orion had been so thoroughly dressed down, and it wasn't even from a commanding officer. Ordinarily, his superiors understood casualties were acceptable in war, and didn't give him very much flak so long as the mission was completed. Because any military man who was dedicated to the cause could tell you: the mission comes first. 

Everyone is expendable. 

Orion stared at his gloves, barely even registering Ripley’s emotional tirade. Instead he was focusing on his own failures. ‘If only I had been that much faster, that much stronger. I could've gone straight to the heart of the nest, and led everyone in a fight for the base…but instead I followed the plan and went right for the reactor. Objectively, Base Zero Delta'ing that hellhole was the most correct decision. But so many people needlessly died, my squad members too. Damn.’ 

“Hey, fucker, I'm talking to you!” Ripley shouted. “If you're some goddamned special forces super unit, why didn't you do anything?!” 

“Goddamnit, goddammit, goddammit!!! Shut the fuck up, woman!” Johnson roared, standing up from his seat looking like he was ready to brawl. “You think the Lieutenant didn't think about all that?! Look at him. Just look.” 

“Ripley. Please. He's hurting.” Newt begged in a quiet voice, trying to pull her back. 

Ripley hesitated for a moment, her eyes red trying to hold back tears. Surviving yet another encounter with the Xenomorphs, her emotions had been running high, but that didn't make her suddenly lose her mind. 

“Damnit, look at me, Spartan.” Ripley commanded, iron in her voice. 

Johnson was about to bark at her once more, but Harper suddenly appeared, holding him back. 

The Private was about to do something that might get him court-martialed, but Sarge had also jumped up to restrain the Human-pitbull. 

Orion belatedly realized he was being embraced. At some point, the Warrant Officer had leaned down, and pulled him close. 

She smelt of motor oil, sweat, and desperation. But much more than that, his esp was telling him that she felt like: 

Hope. 

“Now listen here, and listen good, Orion. I've seen the propaganda films they show to bored high schoolers, and they're full of shit, clear as day. I've seen great things from your team, but I can tell that it has room to be so much more. 

That program following you around Troy digging up survivors was heavily edited, but despite my better judgement, I've begun to accept that maybe it wasn't all fake. 

…look, what I'm trying to say is. Is that the galaxy needs Spartans. We need you not only to perform, but to perform at an even higher standard than what I saw at Hadley’s Hope.” Ripley said, clearly none too happy to have this heart to heart, but also was full of contradicting emotions. 

Orion took a deep breath, then returned her embrace. “Will do, ma'am.” 

“Brute.” Ripley scoffed, but when Newt came in to make it a group hug, she couldn't stay mad for long. 

Off to the side, Harper was recording every moment with his mechanical eyes, and the way he looked at Orion was just as fervent as ever. 

“Truly Human. Our heroes cannot be emotionless automatons. Emotion, cerebral calculation, or the connections our minds make with others….What is the key to unlocking psychic potential?” The ONI spook whispered to himself upon witnessing this scene. 

Johnson, meanwhile, held up a pair of dogtags in his fist that he had recovered during their mad dash back to the hangar. 

“Now that the sappy shit is out of the way, we've got business to take care of, Lieutenant. A brother & sister were lost in the line of duty, and the squad needs replacements.” The dark-skinned man stated matter of factly. 

Orion-back to being a smooth operator-nodded at the Private, catching his meaning, then turned to the Sgt to ask his opinion. 

“Sergeant, what about you, do you think the fresh blood can patch up what was lost?” He asked. 

The Spartan across from him shook his head. “What was lost can only scab over. The scars on the body remind us of past pain, but should never become a warrior’s fixation. I say we move forward.” Sergeant cryptically stated. 

“Ey, you special forces types speaking in code? I don't mean to be disrespectful, I mean I just lost a lot of good people, but you'd better start explaining, blue.” Vasquez crossed her arms, and frowned at Johnson. 

“No way, us? But we're just some backwoods Colonial Marines. Sec Comm has us defend backwaters, and stay local. At best, we've only put down insurgents a few times.” Hicks shook his head, and for the first time since dealing with the Xenomorphs was close to losing his composure. Almost. 

Orion crossed his arms, softly chuckling at this Kyle Reese wannabe. Someone steady like that was perfect. Now he just needed an athletic hothead to balance things out. 

“Whatchu talking about, Hicks?” Vasquez punched him in the arm, demanding to know. 

“Heh heh heh. Please tell them, Lieutenant. The looks on their faces are like my own when I was told the good news.” Johnson held his sides, gruffly laughing. 

“Johnny Rico, Jenette Vasquez, Dwayne Hicks, how would you like to join the Spartans?” 

“Sir, Private Rico, at your service!” Rico was the first to step away from his friends, Dizzy & Ace, then saluted. 

The young man was incredibly firm with his salute, and stared at Orion with the kind of passion only a Shounen protagonist could wield. 

“Welcome aboard, Rico. I've been monitoring your career ever since Klendathu, and I think you'll be a good fit in my unit. What you did today with that Xenomorph Queen was quick thinking. Brave, exceptional young men like you are the future of this Federation.” Orion saluted back. 

“It is my honor, sir!” Rico snapped his salute. “For the glory of Humanity, to hell with the aliens.” 

Orion glanced meaningfully into the deep seated hatred behind those green eyes, and ended his salute. “For the glory of Humanity.” 

His attention was then drawn to the other two prospective participants. 

“You're shitting me? This isn't some prank, is it? I'm not on Fools of FedNet, am I?” Vasquez asked, looking around for some hidden cameras. 

“Real as real can be, chiquita.” Johnson laughed. 

“You've got to work on your language skills if you're calling me a little girl, hombre negro.” Vasquez chirped back. 

Johnson blinked, then laughed. “I'm going to enjoy teaching you rookies a lesson.” 

The sexy Latina tomboy gave Johnson the finger, then saluted Orion. “Lieutenant, as long as you give me assholes to plug, I'm your girl.” 

“Welcome aboard, Vasquez. The Sergeant tries to keep Johnson in line, but even God rested on Sunday. When he's too over his head, I'll have to rely on you to keep him in line.” Orion half joked, half said in a serious manner. 

“Don't worry, sir. I'll take good care of him.” Vasquez smirked, giving the young man a dubious look. 

Orion barely withheld a smile. When those two lions eventually got some shoreleave, it would be interesting to be a fly on the wall. 

Lastly, he looked to the brown haired man. “And you, Hicks? Naturally, the rank of Corporal would no longer be appropriate, but the good you'd do for the galaxy as a Spartan would far outway what you're doing now.” 

Hicks hesitated, then stepped forward to salute. “I'll agree to the modifications & join your squad on one condition.” 

Orion frowned, but his mask hid the expression, and he was quick to respond. “What do you have on your mind?” 

“...My birth name is actually Kyle Reese, I only changed it after my son, John, was kidnapped three years ago. If I agree to join your squad, then you need to help me find my son.” Hicks, no, Reese slowly stated, his eyes filled with yearning and resolve. 

Without prompting, Reese took out a locket necklace, and showed a picture of his son. 

Fuuuuuuuck. 

The year was 2520, the kid who was kidnapped, the one who was named John Connor, was identical in appearance to a kid version of John 117!!! In lore, John was snatched in 2517 at the age of six. 

“Officially, my son died. But due to my, uh, suspicious nature, I did some digging, and discovered several other parents had their kids ‘mysteriously’ die just like John did. After breaking into an Umbrella research lab, I realized that this rapid degeneration of cells is similar to what happens after a ‘flash-cloning’ procedure takes place. In other words, my son, my John is still out there.” Reese said, his voice full of passion. He squeezed his gloved fists tight, then whispered the next part to himself. “The future depends on him.” 

Orion’s eyes widened, and he sensed Harper’s sudden, intense focus. Meeting the spook's gaze, he felt the pace of his heart quicken. 

If this guy was Kyle Reese…then just how much of the future did he know? Was he really a time traveler like in the Terminator movies, or something else? Because from what he had sensed, the entire Xenomorph encounter was completely fresh & new to the Colonial Marine. Before this operation, Reese had no clue what was going on. This only made things more puzzling…maybe his future timeline sent him back to an alternate spacetime??? 

Furthermore, the kids kidnapped for the Spartan II Project…everyone in the Orion Project was complicit in capturing them. 

Orion's past self may very well have been the one who took Kyle's child directly into custody. Where John would then be brainwashed, and chemically altered into one of Humanity's greatest weapons. 

As disgusting as the Spartan II program was, those kids would one day be the last shield between victory & extinction. Therefore…

“I am sorry, Corporal ‘Hicks.’ I cannot fulfill your request. You were an honorable man, and a capable warrior. I hope we meet upon the field of battle another time.” Orion saluted, denying the man entry into the Spartan Program, for fear that he would go AWOL. 

Harper, meanwhile, was staring at Hicks like he was some rare beast, doubtlessly considering how to ply this resourceful man for information. The spook then turned to Ripley of all people, and asked her a question that left her stumped. 

“Miss Ripley, I read in your file that you have excellent skills piloting the mech suit that moves container crates on ships. As you are now unemployed, how would you like to provide feedback on the UNSC's newest toy: Powered Armor?”