A/N: Okay... well, it's been a while, huh? So, no this story is not dead, none of mine are, but due to a myriad of reasons I haven't done anything with this one and in the last six months I haven't done anything. But no more! I am back! I have my mojo back, sort of, and I plan on doing everything I can before I loose it, again.
So, this is only a rewrite of the original but I felt it really needed it. Yes names have changed and certain things as well but overall it is just a touched up version of the old chapter. For those of you who are interested I would like your help regarding my stories, send me a PM if you're willing to help me brainstorm and what not. If not, well, just read and enjoy it.
UNSC Navy Priority Slipstream Lane, near Sol System | 2562
The bridge of the Victory was hive of activity. Dozens of personal, both enlisted and officers, were monitoring the many screens and displays that surrounded the cavernous bridge. In the centre of the Combat-Information-Centre, the rear part of the bridge, separated by a slight elevation and brass railing, was the main holo-table and above it was a large, three dimensional view of the Victory along with a multitude of information scrolling past- all of it being analysed and recorded by the XO and ship AI.
John Barclay, a forty year Navy veteran and two star Rear Admiral, was the current commanding officer of the Victory, he was also her first commanding officer. He leant against the railing, his back to the rest of the CIC, facing the massive, floor-to-ceiling view ports that dominated the front end of the room. Outside he could see the swirls of light and exotic gasses in slip-space as they flowed over the massive warship as it slipped elegantly through at a speed far exceeding light. He looked down at the many stations in front of him, all of them manned by some of the best the UNSC could produced. A full Lieutenant watched over his or her station, be it Navigation or Weapons or Communications or one of the other vitally important operations needed to keep the ship and her supporting fleet running.
The Victory's supporting fleet was fully armed and ready Battle-group; a single carrier, six Autumn-class heavy cruisers, twelve destroyers and fourteen Strident-class frigates. Combined with the Victory they had enough fire power to fend off any known threat... as long as that threat wasn't a Forerunner Fortress-class warship or its many, many deployable craft. Thankfully however, that particular vessel was being taken apart, studied and replicated at Trevelyan. It wouldn't be long before the UNSC had a fleet of the massive and insanely powerful ships.
The Victory was a new breed of ship, the beginning of a new age of space warfare for the UNSC. She would be the first human built to have a full compliment of energy weapons as her main arsenal. But she had yet to receive her commission. But that wouldn't be too far away now, her trial runs and fleet combat exercises would officially end the moment they entered Earth orbit. After that the Victory would become an active member of the UNSC Navy.
John's aged face showed only a slight amount of excitement, when he reached Earth he would hand over command and then he could retire into the peaceful English countryside, where he'd be surrounded by an old and dense forest, miles from any town or city. The first time John had ever been on a tour of duty had been as part of admiral Cole's fleet to re-take Harvest, over forty years ago. He'd ended up seeing a lot of action against the alien Covenant, from Harvest to Psi Serpentis to The Fall of Reach. During The Fall of Reach he'd been the XO of the carrier Musashi andhe'd received second and third degree burns to the entire left side of his body. He was lucky to have made it out of there at all.
Despite the horrific battle scars that adorned his body he stood tall in his uniform, proud of his service, even if the younger generations whispered and stared when he walked by. Even his own grandchildren looked at him like he was a freak, but he knew the ties that bind family together were stronger. One day they'd look up to him and ask about them.
"Exiting Slip-space in one minute, Admiral," the Navigations officer, Lieutenant Cadman, informed him. The announcement knocked Barclay out of his little reverie, he gave the Lieutenant a small smile.
"Good, good," Barclay said. "Comms, when we drop out send a message to FleetCom; Victory is green and ready to go." He ordered, he pushed himself off the brass rail and moved to sit in his command chair.
A minuet later the swirling vortex of light was replaced with the blackness of space, dotted with stars, a few million kilometres ahead of them was Neptune, barely brighter than a star at the extreme distance.
"Admiral, something is wrong," his Comms Officer called out. His face scrunched up in concentration and concern.
"What's the problem, Andrews?" Barclay asked. It was the ship AI, Montgomery, that answered.
"There's no comm traffic, Admiral," Montgomery said. His holographic avatar materialised with a ghostly shimmer on a holotank near Barclay's command chair. "No UNSC beacons, there's no IFF tags on sensors, it's like everything is gone, Admiral."
Nothing? How was that possible? Had something happened while they'd been away? Barclay stood and moved closer to the main view screen. On it was a view of the Sol system and where he should have seen hundreds of blue triangles representing UNSC ships or other blue markers to show other UNSC orbiting stations and facilities, there was none. The system was bare.
"Lieutenant Delgado, run a diagnostic on the sensors, make sure they're working properly. Lieutenant Mann, talk to the rest of the battle group, see if they're reporting the same thing." Barclay ordered, there was no point in ordering the ship to battle condition if the sensors had failed- a strong possibility for a ship during its trial runs. It was a tense minute before his officers reported back to him.
"Diagnostics are clear, Admiral," Delgado reported. "Sensors are working fine."
"All ships in the fleet are reporting the same, Admiral. No UNSC contacts on sensors anywhere in the system." Mann said, his voice cracking slightly. All the bridge personal shared worried looks.
"Open a fleet-wide channel, Alpha priority," Barclay ordered. Lieutenant Mann turned to do so, his long, slender fingers darting over the console so fast they were barely visible. A moment later he gave Barclay the nod; he was live, the entire fleet was listening. "All ships; this is Admiral Barclay, hold your positions. Stay where you are until we have more information. Power up your slip-space drives ready for a hasty get-away, just in case."
"All ships confirm, Admiral," Montgomery said. "Engines to position keeping with the rest of the fleet." Barclay nodded and the bridge seemed to go quiet. Unlike the older ships he had served on the sound of the Victory's engines couldn't be heard from the bridge- over five kilometres away.
"Good, good. Contact the Captain of the Eagle, tell him to launch a few drones deeper in system, see if we can't get a look at what might have happened." The AI nodded and then disappeared. Several minuets later a small squadron of automated stealth drones launched from the ageing carrier. Little did they know that on Earth, the planet they served to protect, under Cheyenne Mountain, the top secret US Air Force Base, Stargate Command, alarms were ringing. Alerting the entire base, the first and last line of defence against extrasolar threats to the potential danger of a new, unidentified fleet entering the home system.
Stargate Command, Control Room | 2002
High above the planet, in a low, fast, orbit, was the International Space Station. Still in construction, as it would be for years to come, it was small and currently insignificant to the world at large. But to Stargate Command the subspace tracking equipment, secretly installed within the last year by the Asgard, it was an early warning system. And when it detected the large burst Čerenkov radiation on the outer edges of the solar system, followed by a fleet of thirty four ships, two of which looked to be bigger then the largest Asgard vessel, it set the entire Stargate Command into a frenzy.
Within minuets the unknown fleet had traversed from Neptune to halfway to Uranus- some several hundred million kilometres. But then, without warning, they stopped. The entire unknown fleet was sitting there, on the outer edges of the solar system. Almost like they were waiting for something. Sitting in the control room was one of Stargate Command's best officers and leading physicists in regards to the operations of the Ancient planet-to-planet transportation device, the Stargate. Dressed in green overalls the blonde haired Air Force Major rolled up her sleeves as she worked, doing everything she could to gather as much she could from the unknowns.
"Major Carter, what have you got?" Asked a short, bald, man. The two silver stars on each shoulder gleamed in the artificial florescent light, denoted his rank; a Major General, Commander of the Stargate project. The General was short, almost completely hairless and had a rounded stomach but he was a strong, competent and fair leader who would do just about anything for the people under his command. His large form dominated the control room, exuding an air of confidence and calm control. Something he managed in every dire situation the SGC had faced so far.
"Not much yet, General," Carter replied. She didn't turn to face him as she gave her report. "We've got thirty four ships in the outer edges but they don't match any known profiles. NORAD is realigning Hubble to get a look at them.
"Thirty four?" the General's voice cracked. It would take the Asgard or a miracle to stop that many ships if they were hostile. "Have they tried communicating at all?"
"Not with us. But they have been talking to each other," the Major reported. A Technical Sergeant next her spoke.
"We've got images from Hubble, Ma'am," he said.
"Put them on the main screen," the General ordered, moving closer to get a good look at the images. What he saw left the Texan man at a loss for words, not a regular occurrence in their line of work. Major Carter complied.
On screen was a grainy image of the unknown fleet. In the centre dominating the image was a massive vessel, long and bulky, with large, thick slabs of white-grey armour and bristling with what looked to be weapon ports. Next to it was a long and narrow ship, with a more flat and boxy shape compared to the larger one, it was lined with blue lights across it's flanks. It too was bristling with weapons. The other ships were too small to make out in any great detail except for the six, bulky octagonal vessels that had a large rear end and long, thin protrusions out the nose. One thing was certain though, those ships were vessels of war and currently their guns were pointing at Earth.
Sol System, outer edges | 2562 Unconfirmed
The images from the stealth drones were both relaxing and terrifying. On one hand Earth was unharmed, the precious jewel amongst the stars, they served to protect, but on the other hand, everything they knew was gone. Montgomery was going over the data from the slip-space jump, looking for anything that could explain the mystery of what happened, why they were at Earth but not their Earth. So far he had nothing.
For the first time in decades Barclay didn't know what to do. Nothing in his long career had prepared him for this, it was unprecedented. It was frightening. Thankfully something he did know how to contend with did happen.
"Admiral, there's a large radiation burst, twelve thousand kilometres ahead of us."
"A nuke?" Barclay asked, his mind already racing for tactical solutions if it was a hostile action.
"Negative, too much neutron radiation... wait new contact!" Delgado cried out. "It appeared right where the radiation burst was, Admiral." The Lieutenant reported.
"Show me," Barclay demanded. On the holo-table and main view screen the new contact appeared. It was only slightly bigger then the cruisers in his fleet it had a curved, bulging head and two, large towers near its back. Four long, antennae like protrusions with small glowing tips stuck out, two under its 'head' and two atop its thin, curved 'wings'. Overall it looked like an alien ship from one of the cartoons he remembered watching from before the war but it resonated with power.
"Admiral," Lieutenant Andrews said. "Unknown vessel is hailing us on a subspace channel." Barclay was a little surprised, whoever they were knew about subspace communications, something the UNSC learnt from the Forerunners and they we were willing to talk, which was better then the alternative.
"Put it on the main screen, Lieutenant," Barclay said with a nod. His gut churned in a way he hadn't felt since Harvest all those years ago. Whatever happened, he knew it would have a gargantuan effect on him and his crew.