I do not own Halo or Battlestar Galactica. Just a few notes: I switched the the order of three UNSC ranks. Captain is now O-4, Lieutenant Commander is now O-5, and Commander is now O-6. Plus, Admiral Adama looks just like he did during the Miniseries, Apollo is not fat, Starbuck does not die, Roslin is still president, and Colonel Tigh has somewhat gotten in touch with his "brighter" side. Sorry if anything seems out of place. I just learned about Battlestar Galactica 2003 a few weeks ago and thought that a crossover with Halo would be really cool. Hope you enjoy it!
Halo: The Last Battlestar
Chapter 1: Opening Act
11/03/2552, 0830 Hours (Military Calander), UNSC Patrol Group Delta,
Approximately 63 lightyears from Epsilon Eridani, Unknown Sector
A low rumble echoed throughout the vast expanse of space as the Marathon-class cruiser Armor of Achilles slowly drifted through the sector along with a trio of frigates as escorts. Just days ago, the group had been docked at the repair and refit station Demeter taking a breaking from their patrol shift around Epsilon Eridani. And now they had been assigned to investigate an area in unknown space where a group of ONI's probes had, supposedly, detected abnormal ion radiation signatures on their way back from one of their routine recon sweeps.
Patrol Group Delta's commanding officer, Captain Jack Stevenson, had bluntly expressed his objections to the mission, saying that the Office of Naval Intelligence didn't need an armed patrol group to perform an investigation. But his superiors determined that the these signatures could mean the active prescence of Covenant ships in the area and, therefore, special precautions needed to be taken.
So here he was, searching. And, quite frankly, he didn't what the hell he was really looking for.
"Captain on deck!" barked one of the officers, upon which everyone dropped what they were doing and stood at attention.
"At ease," said Captain Stevenson. Everyone then went back to their duties. The captain then sat in his command chair and observed the rest of his patrol group. He then checked his watch.
"Ensign Rossetti, progress report," he ordered.
"Sir, so far I haven't picked up any signs of abnormal radiation on the spectral sesnsors. I can try and boost the scan radius, but I doubt it'll go any farther," Ensign Giovanni Rossetti reported.
"Do so, if possible. Otherwise, keep searching."
"Yes, sir," Rossetti replied.
"Lieutenant Wesley, are you sure this is the right place?" Stevenson asked.
"These are the coordinates that ONI sent me. Their representative officer assured me that the signatures were detected in this exact area," Junior Lieutenant Daniel Wesley replied.
"Pfft, yeah right. Office of Naval Intelligence my ass. Damn spooks are always making everyone's lives miserable. Heck, why don't they just change their motto to "Semper Incommodo" already?" Stevenson spat, obviously discontent.
"Well sir, I don't think there's a whole lot we can do about it right now. The Sector Commander told us to stay here until we find something. And even if he didn't, we still can't just go off searching for freak space abnormalities without intel," Wesley reasoned.
The captain tiredly sighed. "I know, I know...alright, keep doing what you're doing."
"Aye, sir." Weasly then went back to work.
Robinson walked up to the raised teir section of the bridge and sat in his command chair, staring into the space beyond. The captain had was tired. Tired of the war, tired of ONI yanking his chain, so tired in fact that he didn't want to believe that they were fighting for the very survival of humanity. But that was a luxury that none of them could afford.
It seemed that the only time during the Human/Covenant war when he actually felt safe was when Spartan-104 had been assigned to his patrol group to defend one of the few deep space human colonies left from a Covenant scout force. The mission was completely successful. His patrol had taken out the scout ships before they could call for reinforcements. The Armor of Achilles had been boarded at one point, but Spartan-104 held them off without so much as breaking a sweat. The captain had the honor of seeing him in combat. And because of him, there were no cassualties during the entire battle. Something that was very rare these days.
"If only he could go on patrol with us again..." the captain thought.
"Sir! I've got something on my sensors! It's very faint, but it's there!" Rossetti informed.
"Finally! Now we're getting somewhere! What have you got?" Stevenson inquired.
"Actually, I can't tell what I've got. The readings are so faint that the sensors can't make anything of it," the ensign explained.
"Hm...hold on. If you were to take consecutive scans of the signatures from different angles, would the sensors be able to interpret them?"
"Um...yeah, I think so, sir."
"Alright then, we'll do just that. Lieutenant Kellerman?" Robertson called.
"Yes, sir?" Junior Lieutenant Merideth Kellerman responded.
"Turn fourty-five degrees right and then begin making a slow 360 degree left turn around the signatures maked on your HUD. Keep about three kilometers distance from the target so that we don't irradiate the ship," he ordered.
"Aye aye, Captain. Beginning turn now," she replied and steered the wheel to the right. The ship lurched to the right a few seconds, leveled out, and then slightly tilted left as it turned.
"Lieutenant Wesley, how long will it take us to make a full circle?"
"At our current speed and radial distance, it will take us about fourty-five minutes to make a full circle," Wesley replied.
"Alright. Rossetti, will fourty-five minutes be enough to get an analysis?" Stevenson asked.
"More than enough, sir. I'll have those results before you know it," Rossetti assured.
"Very good. Let me know as soon as you have something for me. I'll be in my quarters if you need anything."
"Aye, sir. Leave it to me."
The captain then resigned himself to his quarters. He sat down at his desk and took out a bottle of scotch the bottom drawer. He then poured it into a glass until it was about a quarter a full and downed it. He grunted, noting it's taste and put the bottle back.
He then picked up a picture of his wife and two kids, a son and a younger daughter. He smiled at the photo and set it back down and laid back in his chair, staring at the space out his window.
"I wonder just how much longer this war is going to last..." He thought.
Unknown Date, 08:36 (Colonial Time), Colonial Refugee Fleet,
Approximately 251 lightyears from New Caprica, Unknown Sector
Admiral William Adama overlooked the operations on the CIC. The Battlestar Galactica had been escorting what remained of the colonial refugee fleet on the way to the Lagoon Nebula for about two weeks since they left New Caprica, and so far there have been no encounters with any Cylon forces. Adama hoped it would stay that way as long as possible...
"Excuse me, Admiral?" Adama's line of thought was broken by Colonel Saul Tigh.
"Hm? Yes?" Adama replied.
"Major Adama's Viper patrol has just returned. They've found no sign of Cylon activity in the sector."
"Very good. It looks like we've caught a lucky break...for now," Adama replied.
"Also, our long range recon probes are back. They've found something interesting."
"Oh?"
"We're not exactly sure what they found, but they took some pretty good pictures. I've got them in my office. Do you want me to get Major Adama and the others?" Tigh asked.
"That would be good, yes. I'll meet you in the briefing room."
"Aye, sir." Colonel Tigh then went to find the other staff members.
7 minutes later...
"Woah...Colonel, what exactly are we looking at?" Lee "Apollo" Adama asked.
"It appears to be a group of unknown space vessels, Major," Colonel Tigh replied.
Spread across the table were a group of full color photos showing a group of light-purple teardrop-shaped space ships with bulbous "heads" at the front, each with a pair of wide engine exausts at the back.
"What do you think? New Cylon ships, perhaps?" asked Carl "Helo" Agathon.
"Maybe. The design is "organic" enough. But the color is just a bit...well..." Colonel Tigh searched for a word that described it.
"Girly, Sir?" Galen Tyrol suggested humorously.
"Strange, let's just put it that way," Tigh resolved.
"Hmm...Sharon, would you take a look at these photos and give us an opinion?" Admiral Adama requested.
Sharon "Athena" Agathon walked to the table and closely examined the photos. She then closed her eyes and began analyzing the images in her mind. Several seconds later, she opened her eyes.
"I can't tell. Since I've defected from the enemy Cylon forces, I haven't had any access to their fleet intel for a while. But when I was still with the Cylons, they didn't have anything like those ships. And even if they did, I don't think they would color their ships purple," she concluded.
"So then, if they're not Cylon, what are they? Aliens? Because I've never seen any human ship with that kind of design," said Lee.
"Hm. This is, indeed, very interesting. Do we know where they were headed?" Adama asked.
"Our probes tracked their trajectory across one of our jump waypoints to the Lagoon Nebula, but we don't know exactly where they're going, sir," Gaeta stated.
Admiral Adama took a moment to think. He wanted to know more about these new ships, but he didn't want to jeprodize the safety of rest of the fleet. He then made a decision.
"Alright. Since these ships don't pose an immediate threat to the fleet, they will be ignored, for now. However, I want this sighting noted on the Galactica's records. And if anyone gets any new information on those ships, I want to know about it."
"Aye, sir," everyone replied.
"Very good. Let's get back to work."
Lee, Helo, Tyrol and Sharon went back to their respective duties while Adama, Tigh, and Gaeta went back to the bridge.
"Lieutenant Gaeta, begin syncronyzing the jump coordinates to the next waypoint with the rest of the fleet," Adama ordered
"Aye aye, sir. Preparing to-" Suddenly the DRADIS module began making a high-pitched beeping alarm noise.
"Oh frak! Sir! Two Cylon basestars have just exited hyperspace! They're about forty-one kilometers out!" Gaeta reported.
"Perfect timing. Are all the fighter patrols back?" said Adama.
"Not yet, sir! Starbuck's team is still out there!" reported the flight operations officer.
"Dammit. Colonel Tigh, tell the civilian ships to begin jumping to the next waypoint. They'll have to make individual jumps. We need to cover for them."
"Yes, sir." the Colonel then grabbed a nearby handset. "This is the Galactica to all civilian ships, begin jumping to the next waypoint."
As, he said this, Cylon raiders began launching from the basestars. The civilian ships then began jumping into hyperspace.
"Sir! Cylon raiders incoming!" Gaeta reported.
"Bring weapons to full power, enemy supprussion fire, all batteries execute," Adama ordered.
On command, Galactica's heavy turrets and point defense turrets began firing at the swarm of incoming fighters. Hundreds of explosions lit up the dark void of space. The entire first wave of fighters had been destroyed in just a few seconds. The basestars then began launching a volley of missiles. The guns began rapidly targeting and shooting them down before they could hit. While this happened, the last of the civilian ships jumped into hyperspace.
"Sir, all civilian ships are away," Gaeta reported.
"Still no sign of Kara?" Lee asked.
"Not yet, sir...wait a minute! Starbuck's team has just registered on the DRADIS array! All fighters accounted for!" the flight operations officer reported.
"Oh, did I miss to the party?" asked Kara "Starbuck" Thrace over the radio.
"Not hardly. Hurry up and get on deck, we need to get out of here," urged Adama.
"Roger that! I'm coming in!"
Suddenly, all the guns stopped firing.
"Sir! Our guns are out of ammunition! It'll take us at least sixty seconds to reload all of them!" exclaimed the weapons officer.
"I'm reading more than two-hundred missiles heading our way! We won't survive direct hit from that much ordinance!" Gaeta warned.
"Come on, come on," the admiral muttered.
Starbuck and the rest of her team then proceeded toward the left flight pod. They lowered their landing gear and began skidding across the deck. Starbuck was the last fighter to land.
"Sir! All fighters are aboard!"
"Retract the pods!" Colonel Tigh ordered on the handset.
"Missile impact in 15 seconds!" said Gaeta.
The flight pods slowly retracted into the main hull. Several seconds later, they locked into place.
"Flight pods secure! We're ready to jump!" said the engineering officer.
"Jump!" Adama yelled.
Just as hundreds of Cylon missiles were about to bombard the Galactica, it brightly flashed and jumped into hyperspace...
Meanwhile, back on the Armor of Achilles...
Captain Stevenson was relaxing in his chair reading a book titled "Advanced Naval Tactics and Strategies" when he heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said.
Ensign Rossetti then entered his office and closed the door behind himself.
"Sir, sorry to disturb you," Rossetti apologized.
"No apologies needed. What have you got for me?" Stevenson asked.
"Well sir, I just got done scanning the the signatures and I have an analysis of them. Here's the data." Rossetti plugged his portable computer into the captain's PC and uploaded the data to it. Two radiation charts then appeared on the screen. The one on the left was very low and the one on the right was very high.
"The left chart shows the signatures that we found and the right chart shows the radiation pattern of plasma emisions from Covenant engines. As you can clearly see, the signatures that we found are definitely not Covenant. But take a look at this." Rossetti then pulled up another chart. It was not as high as the Covenant signatures but wasn't as low as the unknown signatures.
"These are the radiation patterns of the ion emissions from our ships. Unless the ONI have constructed some kind of weird-ass stealth ship, this means that whatever left these emissions-"
"-wasn't Covenant nor human," Stevenson finished. "Ensign, I'm officialy commending you for your work. This may turn out to be critical information to the UNSC. I want to thank you for a job well done." The captain then shook Rossetti's hand.
"Uh, thank you very much sir. I'm just doing doing my job, but it's an honor," he replied bashfully.
"Right. Now let's get this intel to the sector commander. The guys at HighCom are gonna lay eggs when they hear about this."
Suddenly, the intercom speaker in the captain's quarters activated.
"Excuse me, Captain. This is your XO, Lieutenant Williams. You need to get to the bridge immediately. It's urgent."
Stevenson keyed the intercom button on his desk leaned toward the reciever box.
"This is Stevenson, roger that. I'm on my way. Out." The captain pulled out a RAM stick, stuck it into the appropriate plug-in outlet on his PC and downloaded the chart data onto it. He then took it out and slipped it back into his pocket.
"Alright, let's see what kind of shit hit the fan this time," he said as he power-walked out the door. Rossetti followed close behind and shut the door.
After navigating through a labyrinth of bulkheads, stairways and corridors, Stevenson and Rossetti finally arrived on the bridge. The ensign went back to his work station while the captain went to speak with his XO.
"Talk to me," said Stevenson.
"We've received new orders from Epsilon Eridani HQ. I'll put it onscreen now," stated Lieutenant Matthew Williams as he tapped a key on the console. A new window opened on the captain's viewscreen. The message read as follows:
11/03/2552, 0917 HOURS (UTC)
PRIORITY ACTION MESSAGE
SUBJECT:
EMERGENCY REDIRECT
FROM: EPSILON
ERIDANI SECTOR HEADQUARTERS
TO: PATROL GROUP DELTA
STATUS: PRIORITY ONE
CEASE INVESTIGATION. UNSC OUTPOST IN SECTOR ZULU VI UNDER ATTACK
BY
COVENANT FORCES. REQUIRE IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE. ADDITIONAL
REINFORCMENTS EN ROUTE.
ETA 1 HOUR, 26 MINUTES. GOOD LUCK.
AUTHORIZED BY SECT-COMM RADM GARRETT B. ANDERSON
END MESSAGE.
"...Crap! Lieutenant Kellerman!" Stevenson called.
"Yes, sir!" she responded.
"Set a course for Outpost Zulu VI. Relay the coordinates to the frigates and then punch into slipspace, ASAP."
"Understood, sir. Setting new course for Zulu VI..."
The captain then grabbed a nearby microphone and keyed it.
"This is Captain Stevenson to all ships, we are heading over to Outpost Zulu VI to help repel Covenant space forces. Ready your men, gear, and weapons, we'll be arriving in less than one hour. Out." The captain then hung it back up and walked back to his command chair. He hadn't been in space combat for at least a month now. So he was actually somewhat happy he was going to get some action. Whatever came his way, he would be ready for it.
"Captain! I have the coordinates locked in! We're ready to enter slipspace!" Kellerman reported.
"Very good. Commence jump on my mark. Five...four...three...two...one...jump!" Stevenson ordered.
The Armor of Achilles and her three escorts were engulfed by a flash of light and then disappeared.
Well that's my first chapter. I have a feeling I'm gonna be doing a whole lot of reconstruction later. It dosen't seem as detailed as I wanted it to be. But, everyone has to start somewhere right? Please R&R. Spelling errors, writing hints, plot suggestions, any kind of help would be appreciated. Thanks!
- Burnout360
