Contact Harvest (Halo BSG)
Summery: In the Year 2525 the UNSC encounters a fleet of refugees fleeing a dark enemy and the once peaceful agricultural world of Harvest becomes the setting for the opening shots of the Earth Cylon war.
Halo: February 3, 2525 (This is the date that the human Covenant war began in cannon)
BSG: Set after season two episode "The Captains hand" only events prior to this episode will be considered cannon events after this may be used
Disclaimer: Don't own Halo or BSG
1535 hours February 3, 2525 (Military Calendar) / Epsilon Indi System, Planet Harvest, Utgard, Governors Office.
Nils Thune governor of Harvest sat at his desk reviewing the latest estimates for this seasons crop yield in the Southern provenance of Munin. According to the report filled by Mack, the planets agricultural AI, it was looking to be a good season for a number of the planet's primary crops, that would certainly make the high ups on Earth let out a sigh of relief. With the recent actions of the Insurgents in the Epsilon Eridani system, the last thing the UNSC needed was a food shortage and a loss of productivity on Harvest could lead to possible famine on several of the outer colonies.
While small, only 4,000 kilometers in diameter slightly smaller than Mercury, Harvest was nevertheless one of the most important of the UNSC colonies.
Founded in 2468 by the UNSC Skidblandnir Harvest was the seventeenth UNSC colony and one of the most remote of the Human worlds. In little over two decades, Harvest quickly became the breadbasket of the UNSC, agriculturally out producing many of the larger colony worlds. Needless to say that if productivity on Harvest declined it could spell disaster for several human worlds.
Sipping on a small glass of steaming tea, he added his digital signature to the data packet and added it to the monthly data cache destined for Earth. It would take nearly two months for the ship caring the report to reach Earth making it paramount that the report was as accurate as possible.
A resounding knock at his office door brought the Governor out of his thoughts. Closing the files Nils called for whoever was at the door to enter.
Slowly the door opened allowing the ever-attractive Jilan al-Cygni to slip into his office and make her way over to his desk carrying a small black briefcase.
Nils eyed the official sent by the Department of Commercial Shipping to perform the tri-annual audit of Harvest's shipping wearily. While it wasn't unusually for the woman to pop in unannounced something about her demeanor was off, she was standing a little to straight, and her emerald eyes were lacking the softness they normally held.
"And what can I do for you miss al-Cygni." The governor greeted warmly as he stood to shake her hand.
Returning the age-old greeting Jilan quickly took a seat in front of the governor's desk. "There is a matter that we must discuss," she glanced briefly at the holotank next to the governor's desk, "in private."
Frowning at the woman's brusque attitude and feeling slightly nervous at her strange mannerisms Niles nevertheless acquiesced to her request and entered an override code into his computer sealing the room from eavesdroppers, human or AI. "We're alone."
Reaching into her briefcase Jilan retrieved an information storage device and without any explanation handed it to the Governor.
After waiting for an explanation that never came, Governor Thune tuned to his computer, attached the storage device, and found that it contained only a single file.
Commander al-Cygni watched closely as the governor opened the file containing her orders from ONI Section Three.
For several years, ONI (Office of Navel Intelligence) had been closely monitoring Harvest, fearing that because of its importance to the UNSC it could become a target or worse because of its distance from Earth a base for the Insurgents.
Lately the personal assigned to monitor Harvest had begun noticing…oddities in the finical reports filed by the Harvest planetary government, the errors were small in nature but after the terrorist bombing of the National Holiday luxury liner over Reach ONI wasn't taken any chances so they dispatched Commander al-Cygni to Harvest.
Her orders were simple, whether or not the rebels were behind the odd finical reports al-Cygni was to set up a local militia with the help of several hand picked UNSC marines to prevent any future rebel interests in Harvest.
However if rebel activity is found than the Commander was cleared to use any and all means to resolve the situation and protect the valuable crops of Harvest.
The Commander watched the governor's face closely as he read her orders watching his features go from shock to outrage.
"What is this," the governor ground out.
"I will be the one asking the questions Mr. Thune," reaching into her briefcase she retrieved a small holo chip and without warning stood and made her way to the AI pedestal next to the Governor. Thune watched silently as she inserted the chip into the pedestal. "Please explain this Mr. Thune." her voice was low and deadly. The crystalline matrix of the holotank glowed a deep red as it built up a charge, and began displaying the information contained within. "These photos were taking by one of the UNSC reconnaissance Corvettes dispatched to search nearby systems for any signs of rebel activity."
Learning forward Governor Thune carefully studied the holotank and the cycling images of… ships? He looked towards the Commander for an explanation.
"When I was sent here to determine if any connections between Harvest and the rebels existed ONI also dispatched several corvettes to search the surrounding systems, one of those ships came across a rather large fleet. However, before any information on this rouge fleet could be uncovered they vanished. Over the past several weeks their have been several sightings of this mysterious fleet and based on that information we have been able to extrapolate their course, Governor Thune would you please explain why there is a large fleet of unknown origin on its way here."
Governor Thune's eyes widened in shock the color drained from his face, "their coming here?"
"Governor I grow tired of this so I will ask you once and I had better like the answer. What do you know of this fleet?"
1835 hours February 3, 2525 (Military Calendar) / Epsilon Indi System, Planet Harvest, 52 kilometers East of Utgard, Colonial Militia Barracks.
Captain Ponder stepping carefully out of his private shower grabbed a standard issue white towel from a nearby rack and quickly began wiping the water from his hulking frame.
Captain Ponder was an imposing figure made even more imposing by his metal prosthetic arm, the original being lost to a frag grenade during a botched operation. Before his injury he had been the CO of the 9th Marine expeditionary force, 21st division in the 1st Battalion fighting the Insurrection, demoted after losing his arm the Captain was now tasked with the mission of setting up the new Harvest militia, a task he found almost as stressful as raiding an insurgent base…almost.
Throwing on a pair of sweatpants Ponder made his way to his office to retrieve one of his Sweet William Cigars, one of the few joys he allowed himself.
Halting in the doorway to his office Ponder was surprised to find the chair behind his desk occupied.
"Commander," he said coming to attention, "if I had known you were here I would have thrown a shirt on.
A faint smile torched the Lieutenant's lip, "If I had a problem with half naked men I would have never joined the military, please have a seat Captain."
"How did your meeting with the Governor go," he asked taking a seat.
"It was… unproductive," she sighed, "Thune claims to know nothing of the incoming fleet."
"Do you believe him?"
"Yes, he is far too emotional of a man to be a good liar."
"If I may ask where does that leave us?" Captain Ponder dared to venture.
"In a very bad place," she answered after some time, "the way I see it that fleet is coming for one of two reasons. The first and best possibility is the rebels have amassed it to perform what could be one of the largest raids in UNSC history."
"That's the best possibility," Ponder asked skeptically.
"The other," Commander al-Cygni continued ignoring the interruption, "is that they plan to seize the planet itself, if they entrench it could take months or years to retake the planet. While a raid would cause tremendous harm, a siege by the UNSC on an entrenched rebel force with space capabilities would be devastating to a planet and that's not even taking into account the PR mess it would cause. We were able to cover up the bombing of the National Holiday but there is no way in the nine hells that we could cover up something this large."
"Shit." Ponder swore.
"That about sums it up Captain. HIGHCOM is aware of the situation and is dispatching several warships but we're starched thin at the moment so it could take some time till they arrive."
"So we have no star side assets for the foreseeable future," Ponder asked gravely.
"We have a few." The Commander muttered as she pilfered one of the man's cigars from his desk and offered him one as well.
"Ma'am?" he asked taking the offered cigar.
"The six Corvettes that found the fleet are waiting on the edge of the system." She answered striking a match to light the cigar; absentmindedly she tossed the matches to Ponder.
"Ma'am I know I don't need to point this out but Corvettes aren't built for heavy fighting, they don't even boast a MAC and that incoming fleet has nearly 75 ships."
"True they can't stop them but hopefully they'll be able to slow them down." She replied letting the cigar smoke roll across her tongue.
"I don't see how they won't get within 100,000 kilometers before their spotted and destroyed." Ponder was more than surprised when she smirked at him.
"You're assuming that they'll be spotted, these aren't your standard Mako-class corvettes, they're Prowler-class."
"Prowler-class?" Despite spending nearly his entire life in the service he had never heard of a Prowler-class corvette before
"It's ONI and the details are classified, but to put it simply a Prowler-class is only seen when it wants to be."
ONI of course. He thought. "Do you want me to wake Johnson and Byrne let them know what's going on?"
Commander al-Cygni fell silent pulling the cigar from her mouth to study the burning embers at the end. "No let them sleep we'll inform them in the morning. Which reminds me how are those two getting along?"
"Their professionals and while off duty they're more than likely to bash each others skulls when the bullets start to fly, they both know where their responsibilities lie."
"Good."
"What about Mack and Sif?"
"Out of the loop at the moment."
"Those two won't be happy when they find out."
"It can't be helped, the fewer people who know at the moment the better. If word got out it could cause a panic, and there is something else something you haven't been told."
Ponder leaned forward in his chair, "and that is?"
"When the ships vanished the first time the corvette that saw them got a clear reading on the energy output generated by the jump, it doesn't match anything in our database."
Ponder waited silently knowing there was more.
"As you now when a ship enters slipspace it gives off a very distinctive energy reading an energy reading that doesn't even come close to matching what those ships gave off. Which opens up a completely new can of worms for us. Either the Rebels are using a new jump system or they're not rebels."
"Not rebels," Ponder asked disbelievingly, "we already discounted the possibility that we stumbled on a black bag project of ONI so who could they be."
"Not who what."
"Wha… you don't mean little green men," seeing the look on her face he knew he hit the nail on the head, "shit now I know why you gave me the cigar." Captain Ponder took a long deep drag on his cigar before leaning back in his chair and exhaling forming several perfect smoke rings that slowly drifted up to the ceiling before disappearing entirely.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Startled Ponder returned his attention to Jilan who was retrieving a data pad from her jacket pocket. He watched on as her formally stoic face transformed into one of worry.
"Is something wrong Commander?"
"You could say that wake Johnson and Byrne we need to meet with the governor."
1816 hours February 3, 2525 (Military Calendar) / Epsilon Indi System Outskirts, Prowler-Class Corvette, UNSC Stalker, Captain Regan Burns.
Your standard Mako-class wasn't much to look at, only 162 meters long it is the smallest active warship employed by the UNSC, lacking a MAC and high maintenance cost lead many within the UNSC to argue that the vessel should be retired. Yet despite its shortcomings, the UNSC has yet to retire the class publicly claiming that the cost of replacing the vessels would be too costly. To truth, however was that ONI that put a stop to decommission of the Mako-class. The reason the Office of Navel Intelligence wished for the continued use of the Mako-class was the true purpose of the Mako-class was to allow ONI to hide their spy fleet from the public.
Outwardly, the Prowler looked identical to the Mako in all aspects. This has allowed the ONI for years to hide their secret fleet of spy ships in plain sight, but if the Mako-class was retired the amenity it provided to the shadowy organization would be gone, and so the Mako-class remained for the sole purpose of hiding the Prowlers.
"Ma'am sensors just recorded an energy spike matching the unknowns; I'm picking up an unknown craft 300,000 kilometers from our current position."
"Have we been detected?" Commander Burns asked.
"We are still running silent and the unknown hasn't reacted to our presence… hold on unknown is moving in system heading for Harvest."
"Show me the unknown."
"Yes Ma'am."
A moment later, the forward command screen that up until now had been displaying the crest of the UNSC displayed the sensor profile of the unknown.
"That's it," Commander Burns said shocked, "it can't be any more than ten meters long, no ship that small can enter slipstream, tactical report."
"I'm sorry ma'am but at this range and with passive sensors I can't get anything more than its profile."
"Damn it," she muttered to low for the rest of the crew to hear, "Helm get us closer but do it quietly."
"Aye ma'am."
Colonial Raptor
"Jump complete, what have you got." Lt. Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson said.
"Hang on a minute will ya," Lieutenant Hamish "Skulls" McCall replied from the back of the Raptor "I only just started scanning so… whoa."
"Skulls," Racetrack asked tighten her grip on the flight stick.
"There's a planet in the liquid water zone and I'm picking up radio singles."
"Cylons?"
"Negative singles don't match, hold on… I'm picking up some form of superstructure in orbit whatever it is it big, but readings are pretty fuzzy at this range we'll need to get closer."
"Than that's what we'll do." Racetrack replied firing up the engines.
"What shouldn't we report back?"
"We're here to scout so let's scout."