To Hell and Back: Ultimate Rewrite Edition

Ah, back to my old roots. As you no doubt know, I am Ron the True Fan, and this is the rewrite of my well known story To Hell and Back. (Called THAB hereafter) If the archive didn't tell you, it's a Gundam SEED/Battlestar Galactica crossover. The original version was posted (and finished) 3 years ago. My writing skills back then sucked. Now, if I can mix two universes that never had much in common (Bleach and Babylon 5) and create a good story, then I can rewrite this. Same cast, same plot, just better writing, and a different timeline: the GSD part's still the Battle of Berlin, but the BSG part is during the first season: Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down, to be exact.

The GFAS-X1 Destroy was ripping through Berlin like the Red Army in AD 1945.

Beam cannons tore through the old German capital like a knife through hot butter while the defending ZAFT forces were getting slaughtered.

The escorting Earth Alliance MSs did little to help the massive monster, but then again, what could stop it?

The Minerva was barely 10 miles away, and far outside weapons range.

Nothing could touch the massive weapon.

Well, until the ZGMF-X10A Freedom, piloted by Kira Yamato, arrived with the Archangel, coming in under the radar.

The Freedom's beam rifle fired at the massive Mobile Suit, but the lightwave shields just made the shots bounce off.

Any surviving ZAFT units either backed the hell off or were cut down by the Destroy's massive beam weapons.

"Kira, the Minerva's closing in. We're not sure whether or not they'll attack us or not, but-"

Kira didn't hear the rest, as he was forced to dodge beam rifle fire from the GAT-01 Windams and the ZGMF-X24S Chaos, who were excorting the MS/MA.

At that point in time, something happened.

It would not be identified by the ZAFT, Earth Alliance or Orb forces in the battle til much later.

It was called a Randomized Natural FTL Event, and the chances for it were one in one hundred trillion. Rather high, no?

And the chances were even higher for it happening in an inhabited system.

Now it was about to happen in Berlin, and it was about to suck in every ship, Mobile Unit and building within the Berlin area.

Kira fired his beam rifle, setting off the RNFTLE.

The EMP it caused knocked out everything electronic, and the event itself sent them across the galaxy.

They didn't notice a thing, as they were knocked out by the extremely violent forces of a natural FTL jump, as artificially created FTL jumps were quite gentle.

Aprilius One, Capital of the PLANTs

Gilbert Durandal never swore, but if he thought he would, now was the perfect time to start.

The Minerva was gone.

Sure, it rid them of the Archangel and the Freedom, but he NEEDED the Minerva.

Still, he thought he'd seen those energy signatures before.

More controlled and much smaller, but VERY similar.

"Chairman? The Council is ready to begin the meeting."

"I'll be down there shortly."

Meanwhile, across the galaxy...

75 ships flew through the void, searching for a home called Earth.

Their creations suddenly destroyed their homes after 40 years without a word.

The Cylons destroyed everything and killed everyone.

But one military ship survived: the Battlestar Galactica.

For months, Galactica shepherded and protected her civilian charges, warding off the Cylon baseships that attacked them.

Today, that changed.

Lieutenant Felix Gaeta and Colonial Corps of Engineers Major Ronald Pinkerton were working on improving the DRADIS arrays on the largest ship in the Fleet.

And it was not fun.

"No, you idiot. That one goes there, THAT one goes there!"

Gaeta was having a hard time dealing with the CCE commander-in-chief.

The man knew the Galactica-Class Battlestar like the back of his hand, (he personally oversaw Galactica's refit 20 years earlier) but everyone rarely saw the man.

He always hung out in his quarters, only doing something when his engineering skills were REALLY needed.

"No WONDER the DRADIS only has half the range."

He pointed at two unplugged cables.

"Who the frak unplugged those?!"

"Wait, Major, don't-"

He plugged them in, receiving the shock of his life.

Literally: 250000 volts passed through his hands, his titanium skeleton and finally into his hair, making it stick up on end.

"That wasn't a good idea."

He let go of the cables, falling to the deck below.

Gaeta made a note to call the ship's barber.

AFTER laughing his ass off at the Major's pain.

"Gaeta..."

The Lieutenant looked at the Major.

"Help me up, or I swear to Hades I will make your life a living hell when I get up on my own."

Gaeta did NOT want to know what the Major would do to him, so he made his way down, helping the semi-paralyzed man up.

"You alright, sir?"

"I'll tell you when I regain feeling in my toes. Check the DRADIS."

Gaeta rolled his eyes, but did as the man said and looked at the DRADIS console near the hatch.

The range had increased by at least 60%, but resolution was degraded slightly.

Even so, it was picking up a huge mass of debris just outside visual range, and if it weren't for the Major's crazy stunt, they'd never've noticed it.

"There's something nearby. I'll go tell the Commander."

"Sure, leave me here, you bastard."

Gaeta ignored the Major and made his way the nearest phone.

"Lieutenant Gaeta to CIC."

"CIC."

"Major Pinkerton and I have finished modifying the DRADIS dish, and the screens up here are picking up a mass of objects 500 kilometers off the port bow. I think the Major's going to want someone to investigate."

"Why'd he tell you to give us the message? He could've done it himself."

"He's..."

He looked back and the Major, who was trying to move his arm.

"Indisposed at the moment: shocked himself into temporary paralysis."

"Sucks to be him. I'll reroute a medical team to get him out of there."

Gaeta looked at the pissed off Major, who was regaining control of his legs.

"Good idea."

Gaeta was torn.

Would he leave the pain in the ass so he could get back to CIC or wait for the medics to arrive?

No contest.

He left the Major where he stood.

"WHEN I GET FEELING IN MY LEGS BACK, GAETA, YOU'RE FRAKED! YOU HEAR ME?!"

Battlestar Galactica: CIC

"A debris field?"

Gaeta nodded.

"After we finished modifications to the DRADIS, it picked up the field just outside visual range. I think the Major would like us to take a look, if only to stripmine it."

"You're damn right, I would!"

Commander William Adama turned to face the Major, who was walking toward them, and now almost completely bald as well.

"I thought you were paralyzed."

The extremely short-haired Major rubbed his shoulder.

"One of the few GOOD things about having ancestors that were genetically engineered is that you recover much faster then anyone else. Still a bit screwy, but I SHOULD be able to go and take a look."

Colonel Saul Tigh looked at the Major.

"With what? Some of that debris might be too close for a Raptor, you can't fly a Mk II and even if you designed the Mk VII, you haven't flown a Viper in years."

"You seem to have forgotten something. My old Mk I is in the starboard flight pod, and it can fly. Get it to the port pod for launch, and you'll have another Viper pilot on the line."

Tigh looked at Adama.

"Another pilot WOULD help, and it would get him out of our hair for more then a few days."

That was the only plus.

Finally, the Commander relented.

"Do it. If there's anything in that debris that we can use-"

"Get a team of Raptors together, and I'll strip it to the bones. Hell, I'll even find a use for the bones."

His smirk was almost infectious, so the Commander ordered him out before it actually turned infectious.

"Well, his Mk I's a bit smaller then a Mk II, so if anything, he can navigate an asteroid field with no problem."

"Ammo's going to be an issue, though: the Mk I's only has half the ammunition the Mk II has."

Adama cleaned his glasses with a cloth.

"Pinkerton will fit that Mk I with twin gunpods. He did it during the First Cylon War. He'll do it now."

Battlestar Galactica port flight pod hanger bay: 45 minutes later

"THAT-"

The Major smirked at the sight of his Mk I, fit with twin 40mm gunpods with at least 600 rounds of ammunition, in the launch tube.

"Is a thing of beauty."

Galen Tyrol looked at the Major.

"You're not even wearing a flight suit. That thing's not a Raptor, you know: it's not pressurized."

"All CCE personnel wear their flight suits under their uniforms."

Tyrol looked at the man, who partially took off his jacket, showing an armored version of the standard Colonial Fleet issue flight suit.

He even had the metal collar on his neck.

"Huh. No helmet, though."

Ron reached in and took it out of the cockpit and hopped in, strapping it to his head.

"Smartass."

The hatch closed, and the Major was strapped into his old bird. He closed the cockpit canopy and gave a thumbs up to the LSO.

"Time to fly. HAHAHAHA!"

He was launched into the vacuum, cackling all the way.

As soon as he cleared the Battlestar, he turned toward the general direction of the debris field.

Two Mk IIs moved into formation with him.

"Viper 357, Viper 149, callsign Starbuck: Commander Adama wanted us to escort you." The Major shrugged. "Viper 149, Viper 357, callsign Psycho: copy that. Be advised, that debris field is a few hours out. It's going to be a LONG haul."

"Psycho, Starbuck: copy that. Raptor 058, where the frak are you?"

The Major checked his DRADIS screen.

A formation of eight Raptors was behind them, clearly following them to pick up anything the Major saw as valuable.

"Starbuck, Boomer: you know these things aren't as fast as your Vipers."

Before Starbuck could get started, the Major pressed a button in his cockpit.

Under the Mk I was a powerful jammer pod that would flood the wireless with enough static to make their ears bleed.

It had the issue of shutting off his wireless, but that was a bonus.

After about 20 seconds, he lifted his finger off the button.

"What the frak was THAT?"

"Something to shut you the hell up. Now, let's focus on the job."

He saw Starbuck shake her head, but she complied.

"Raptor 058, keep an eye out for Cylon contacts. I'd rather not get screwed."

"Psycho, Boomer: copy that."

The Major flipped another switch, engaging the autopilot.

"Turn on your autopilots. I need you aware and alert, not numb from keeping your hands on the stick too long. Not a word, Starbuck!"

2 hours later

"Well, I was not expecting THIS."

Wreckage was everywhere.

"Raptor team, stay outside the debris field. Vipers, on me."

Starbuck heard Crashdown say 'fraking right we're not going in there', but said nothing about it.

The Major was interested in whatever was in the field.

Then again, who the hell could've made it?

The Cylons?

Doubtful.

"Frak me. THAT'S why you want to search this thing. You're looking for a beacon or something that'll lead us to Earth!"

"I was thinking more along the lines of investigate and/or salvage."

The Mk I led the way, dodging massive chucks of dull yellow debris.

"That shit looks like it came off a ship."

They came up on a larger section, mounted with CIWS batteries and large gun turrets.

"Yup, it came off a ship. Raptor 058, contact Galactica. I want to salvage some of this shit, and I'll need an large FTL-capable ship to do it."

"Psycho, Hotdog: I'm seeing fraking giant Cylons in this shit!"

The Major's Viper spun in a slow circle, looking at the massive machines.

The Major shook his head as he got a good look at them.

"Not likely: I see cockpit hatches on some of these things, and most of them are open."

He got close to a 0005 lookalike that was missing its' arms with an open cockpit.

The pilot was dead: fried by radiation.

"Got a body inside one of them. Fried by a massive overdose of Cerenkov radiation, from the look of it."

Starbuck paled.

That only happened with very old or untuned FTL drives.

"Frak me."

She spotted a 'Cylon' with a closed hatch.

"Some of them have closed hatches, Major."

"Hopefully, they've got survivors in them. As much as I want to salvage this stuff, I'd rather it not be a complete graveyard. I've got issues with that."

The Vipers moved through the debris, and Hotdog spotted a massive machine, easily the size of Galactica's main hull.

"Whoa. Major, you seeing this?"

"Indeed I am. Raptor 058, Psycho: I'm sending video to you. Relay it to Galactica CIC: I think Commander Adama would like to see this."

The jammer pod also had a recon package attached to it, recording and sending live video to the Raptors, who relayed it to Galactica.

"Galactica, Hotdog: seeing a lot of intact giant Cylons here."

"Hotdog, those things have cockpits."

"So do Raiders, if you're smart about it."

"Yours was makeshift, Starbuck, and-Sweet daughters of Zeus."

Starbuck turned to see what the Major saw: a ship, almost all white (sans the red and black near the bottom) and just the right size for launching machines like the huge 'Cylons'.

"Major, we just struck gold."

"Damn right. Galactica, Psycho: you seeing this, Commander Adama?"

Battlestar Galactica: CIC

"Psycho, Actual: I do."

Both men stared at the screens that normally displayed the DRADIS readouts.

"It's completely intact, Actual. And with the amount of salvage from the rest of the debris field, we're going to need more then one ship."

"Agreed. I'll inform the President."

"Copy that, Actual. Get a couple more Raptors out here, load them with Marines if you can, sir: I'd like a good look at the inside of that ship."

Adama adjusted his glasses.

'Of course you would.'

The man was an engineer and a scientist.

He barely paid any attention to the Fall of the Colonies, although he was VERY pissed at the deaths of his family.

Out of everyone, he was the only one to get any sleep during the 33 Incident.

He didn't take part of the day-to-day activities that most of the crew went through.

His job was to make sure Galactica was ready to be turned into a museum.

Once the war started, he quickly helped get the weapons systems online and made sure everything was ready for combat.

After that...he was useless.

He wasn't well liked because he was a sign of the ship's retirement.

Now? Now the man was ALIVE again.

Useful.

"Dee, patch me through to Colonial One. I need to speak with the President."

"Aye, sir."

Viper 149

They had found three intact ships (the Major called the giant one a Mobile Fortress, though, and she could see why) and 14 intact super-sized pilotable Cylons.

Starbuck identified pieces of at least 50 or more.

Predictably, the Major wanted every piece.

She saw the reason, (upgrading Galactica's very, VERY basic weapons loadout) but seriously, it would take WEEKS to salvage what could be salvaged!

Still, the Major was cackling.

CACKLING. (AN: Picture Japanese Dub Kenpachi Zaraki. The English Dub one isn't crazy enough)

It was giving them all a headache.

"Major, shut the frak up!"

"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!"

If the man weren't so useful, Kara would've dumped every KEW round she had into the fraking bastard.

"Actual, can I kill him?"

"While you would be doing the universe a great deal of good in killing him, Starbuck, we still need him."

The crazy Major was flying around in circles, making the female pilot dizzy.

"By the way, I thought the Mk II was more maneuverable then the Mk I. How the hell is he outturning me?"

"His Mk I's more like a Mk IV after was modifications he made to it during the War, Starbuck. Only someone in a Mk VII can beat him while he's at the controls of that damned thing."

"Commander, he's insane."

Adama's voice suddenly had a trace of humor in it, and not even the wireless could remove it.

"That's the Pinkerton Family as a whole."

Starbuck sighed and gave up.

"So, how the frak are we dragging this crap back to Galactica?"

"Vergon Express, Greenleaf and Monarch will tow the wreckage back in shifts. We'll pull in Gideon, Baah Pakal and Pyxis in four hours if we don't have most of the material."

At that moment, it seemed the Major regained his sanity.

"Recommend you pull them in now, sir. There's too much for just three ships to drag out."

"Insane or not, I have to agree with him."

"Speaking of insane, I'm going to try boarding one of the ships. Anyone care to join me?"

Starbuck resisted ramming her Viper into his in an attempt to kill the man.

As soon as he spoke, though, a trio of Raptors jumped in.

"You rang, Crazy?"

The Major chuckled over the wireless.

"I did. We're boarding the white ship, and I need you."

3 years. That's how long it's been since I started THAB and entered the world of Fanfiction.

Since the original version's not doing it for me, (I can't finish the storyline, as I sucked back then and had no clue where I was actually going with it) I figured I would start again.

Same cast, same basic plot, different plot devices. (In short, NO time travel/FTL drive overload like I used in Valkyrie's Flight. What the fuck was I THINKING back then?)

Instead of the Resident Evil characters I used in the original, I think I'll pull out more anime ones this time.

Which ones, I'm not sure.

Still, I should thank Universal for making more BSG material I can use.

Blood and Chrome's pocket Battlestar, the Osiris, is almost perfect for CCE work, and if Grea lets me, I can use his original ships.

The ships seen in the original version...I'm keeping those. I like my Zeus-Class Battlestar Dreadnoughts.

Thank God I still have those stories posted, otherwise I'd be working from scratch. Again.

Another guessing game: which ship sank this day? (May 27th)

Make the correct guess and you get a prize.

Next Time on THAB Ultimate Rewrite Edition: The Mad Major and his Marines board the Archangel, and the Cylons strike.

Ja Ne!