Chapter 1

First Contact

Less than a day later, Sam was no longer the only living thing within a couple thousand light years of the station. Nor was the mysterious ship the only means of space travel residing in this area. Now, on the other side of Sam's station hung two UNSC ships. They resembled Halcyon-class cruisers, like the famed Pillar of Autumn, but they were much larger, almost the size of a Covenant Assault Carrier. The visual resemblance ended with their aft sections, which carried four full-sized engines to the Halcyon's two full-size and six smaller. They were arranged in a rectangle, on outrigger like structures similar to the ones sported by frigates of the now-renamed In Amber Clad class, named for the famous ship that had been part of it. It had been described my one UNSC engineers as "if someone had cut the back end off a frigate, scooted it up a couple meters, and slapped an identical engine block upside down below it."

These were the newest UNSC ships of the line, built with the help of the Elites and launched less than a year ago, and bearing the names of the heroes that had helped preserve their creators long enough to bring them into reality. The dreaded, feared, and sometimes worshiped Spartan-class Supercrusiers.

Sam looked at them in awe as she stood in the station's small docking bay. Small being the appropriate word for it, as it was barely large enough to hold a single Pelican. One of which was now rapidly approaching the station. Sam could see it if she looked closely, a small pin-point of light approaching from the ship on the right, the Kelly. The other ship, the Arthur, hung in space to the left, the space around it buzzing with Advanced Longsword and the new Cutlass-class fighter-bombers, ready to attack anything that could even possibly threaten the upcoming mission. Sam felt a lot safer now that the two ships were here. Combined, they carried 24 squadrons of fighter-bombers, six Heavy Triple MAC guns (each of which could shoot a series of slugs the size of her station in less than a minute), pulse lasers, who the hell knew how many Archer and Crossbow missiles, and a couple hundred 110 millimeter autocannons for point-defense. The only thing more powerful than them were the new Retaliation-class ships, and those wouldn't be in service for quite a bit. It seemed like an arsenal that could demolish any foe. Or so Sam hoped.

The loud blaring of the docking alarm woke the Spartan from her thoughts. The Pelican was visible now, a dark shape against the brightness of the gas giant. The craft's maneuvering jets flared as the pilot adjusted it's trajectory to meet with the station's bay. Another couple seconds saw it through the Elite-provided energy field that allowed solid objects (like ships) into the bay but kept oxygen in and micrometeorites out. It turned, settling back-end first onto the bay's single landing spot with a hiss of hydraulics and a short squeal of tires on metal. No sooner had the dropship settled than its troop bay door (infamously known as the "blood tray") opened with another hiss of hydraulics, quickly spilling eleven soldiers into the hanger. All wore MJOLNIR MK VI/B armor just as Sam did, though two of them had Recon helmet permutations instead of the MK VI/B's standard. One of these their hand to their faceplate and swiped two fingers across it in a downward arch; the famous "Spartan Smile." Sam returned her fellow Spartan's greeting.

Two Spartan's approached Sam. In the dim light of the hanger's lighting strips, Sam could see both bore the insignias of Master Chief Petty Officer on their right shoulders, just below the eagle-and-lightning symbol of the Spartans. Sam snapped a salute.

"What do you have for us, Sam?" Asked the one on the right. Sam's IFF system registered him as SPARTAN-122.

"Glad to see you to, Christian." She said, smiling under her helmet. Christian grumbled. He was still sore about Sam getting assigned to Beta Team instead of his Alpha, and took every chance to express it.

"Cut it out you two." Snapped the other Spartan. Sam turned and saluted.

"Yes ma'am." She said. Christian snorted.

"Yes ma'am," He said in a bad falsetto, then addressed the Spartan next to him. "Damn Kate, what the hell are you teaching your team?"

"Go slurp plasma." Kate spat back. Christian laughed.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He said.

"You don't know how much." Kate retorted, turning to Christian. Christian faced her as well. Sam, sensing trouble, stood in between the two of them. The fights between Spartans-122 and -206 were legendary, and she'd rather not have to call to the two UNSC vessels with injured even before they got on board the unknown ship outside, especially if the wounded was either her commanding officer or Alpha's.

"Uh, unknown ship? Recon mission?" She prompted. The two commanding Spartans backed away from each other.

"Alright, what happened?" Kate asked. Sam quickly filled her in on the events leading up to and the actual appearance of the ship. When she finished, both Kate and Christian fell silent as they processed the information.

"Well, I'm gonna guess this ship isn't something new by the Covies." Christian said at last.

"Can't argue with that." Kate said, thought she sounded like she would have liked to.

"So what now?" Sam asked.

"We find out what the hell it is." Christian said. Sam could tell he was grinning under his helmet.

"Let me guess," Kate said. "You want to board it."

"Only way to really get some intel." Christian said with a shrug. He turned back towards the remaining Spartans.

"Who's ready for some boarding action!" He shouted, fist raised. About half of the group (Alpha Team, Sam thought) raised their fist in salute and bellowed "Ohh Rah!"

The rest of the group (Sam's fellow Beta Teamers) stayed quiet.

"And how exactly do you expect us to get on board?" Kate asked sweetly, arms crossed. Christian paused, but only for a second.

"Sam said that thing's got a good sized hole blown in it, right?" He asked.

Sam nodded.

"Looks like it blew thought a couple decks, and it's gotta be at least twenty meters deep." She replied.

"So we just fly a boarding craft in thought the hole, land where we can, and fan out from there. And if we can't get in though that hole, we'll make one of our own." Christian shrugged again. "Simple."

"Hmmm." Kate said, arms still crossed. "And I assume you'll want to lead the action?"

"Of course!" Christian cried. "You know our motto." He turned to his team again. As one, they bellowed "First In, Last Out!"

"Well, have fun." Kate said. "Beta'll watch your back."

"Works for me." Christian nodded to Kate and Sam, then climbed back into the Pelican's bay, followed by his team.

"We'll try and leave something for you to play with." He said, as the blood tray closed behind him. Over the roar of the Pelican's jets, Sam heard Kate growl.

"Hard to believe we were ever related, isn't it?" She said, turning to Sam.

"Yes ma'am." Sam answered quickly.

"Come on. We have work to do." Kate turned and walked out of the hanger, Sam and Beta Team at her heels.

They had a mission to prep for.


Back in Bakuran space, the final remains of the Separatist assault fleet had just been cleaned up. Once again, the only obstructions to the natural flow of the system were the three Star Destroyers of Anakin Skywalker's command. The famous Jedi himself currently stood in the enormous hanger of the Resolute, preparing his beloved, if somewhat battered and modified G9 Rigger spice freighter Twilight for the upcoming hyperspace jump. Currently, he was elbow-deep in wires, installing a new extreme long-range communication system. With a couple burst from his fusioncutter, he attached the final wire strands to the input ports. The communications panel on the control panel next to him lit up with a new light. Anakin sighed and slid the removed access panel back into place. As he did so, a stirring in the Force alerted him that he was not alone.

"Have I told you this plan is crazy?" Asked a female voice. Anakin turned around to see his Padawan Ahsoka standing behind the copilot's chair, arms crossed. She was quite obviously not happy about Anakin's decision to go after the droid ship with only the Twilight. Anakin made ready to explain himself, but was distracted by the arrival of his astromech R2-D2, the required-sized hydrospanner for replacing the access panel held in one of his manipulator arms. Anakin nodded his thanks to the little droid, who tootled in response and rolled away again. Anakin quickly reinstalled the panel.

"You've made yourself very clear, Snips." He said, observing the young Togruta's reflection in the Twilight's viewscreen. "Still, it's probably the smartest thing to do."

"Oh, going up against a droid warship in a lightly-armed spice freighter is smart?" Ahsoka asked, rolling her eyes at her Master. Anakin couldn't help but smile.

"Well, it's smarter than sending three badly-needed capital ships into an unknown, unexplored section of space." He replied. "Besides, we know the ship was damaged. And it probably got pretty messed up during that blind jump. Shouldn't be too much of a problem for me to handle. If it's still active, that is."

"Well at least let me come with you!" Ahsoka said, leaning forward for emphasis. Anakin sighed.

"I told you before, Ahsoka," He said, clenching his mechanical hand around the hydrospanner. "I need you to be here to lead the battle group after me if I need help."

"But you won't need help!" His Padawan insisted. "You just said yourself-"

"Just stay here, Snips." Anakin said. "And get ready to move if I call for you."

"Yes, Master." Ahsoka replied, turning to leave the freighter's cockpit. Anakin noticed she somehow managed to make the word Master sound like some horrible slur. With a groan, he sank into the pilot's chair. He sometimes wondered why he even had a Padawan.

His dark thoughts were broken by the sudden reappearance of R2, who rattled of a series of beeps and whistles.

"Of course I know what I'm doing!" Anakin spat at the droid. "It's just like Ahsoka said during the briefing; I jump on the same course as the clankers did, but use the Force to smooth the way so I don't get caught in anything. Just like Gav and Jori Daragon."

R2 tootled some more.

"Well if they ran into anything, there won't be anything left, will there?" Anakin responded. "And we won't have to worry."

R2 whistled what sounded like a negative, and rolled out of the cockpit. Anakin sighed, before getting back to readying his ship.

Why was it that everyone thought his idea was crazy?

Fifteen minutes later, the Resolute changed position, angling itself for Anakin's lightspeed jump. The huge red-painted doors situated along the bow opened, allowing just enough space for the Twilight to slip through. The dull-gray spice freighter extended its Tal Nami Freighter Swing Wing as it rose, then ignited all three of its engines and headed for the section of space which the droid ship had disappeared into. On board, Anakin adjusted several switches and yanked a lever. The Twilight oriented itself. As Anakin did so, the holoprojector flared to life with a warble, showing the ghostly figure of Admiral Yularen.

"General Skywalker, you are cleared for hyperspace jump. Good luck, sir."

"Thank you, Admiral." Anakin replied, reaching up to switch of his navicomputer. He wouldn't be needing it for this. "I'll contact you if there's anything left. Skywalker out."

Yularen nodded, and the holoprojector shut down again.

With a sudden sense of anticipation, Anakin yanked back the lever that activated the hyperdrive and kicked the Twilight into glowing blue tunnel of faster-than-light travel. Seconds later, the space around Bakura was once again still.


Christian looked out the boarding craft's viewport in awe. He'd never truly appreciated just how strange the ship they were boarding was until now. It didn't have the nice, clean-cut lines of a UNSC ship, nor the almost-organic look of Covenant vessels, but could have passed as a basterdized hybrid of the two, painted a dreary grayish color that made it look like the ship was rusting as they watched. It seemed…wrong. At least to Christian.

But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The bizarreness would keep his team on their toes, alert and ready for whatever the vessel would throw at them. The Drill Instructor's had told tales of what happened to soldiers who weren't prepared. That wasn't going to happen to Alpha Team. No way. They were the best. And now they finally had a chance to really prove it. No more simple search-and-destroy or anti-pirate missions for them.

Christian's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the boarding craft executing a sharp starboard turn, which threw him and half of Alpha Team that were strapped into the seats on the port side of the craft against their harnesses and the other half into their seats. Christian grunted as the maneuver finished. He turned towards the front of the craft, where the pilot sat.

"Fucking hell, Matt, take it easy!" He spat. "We ain't under fire, are we?"

"Sorry, sir." Matt's voice replied, cool as ever. Christian couldn't see anything because of the pilots' seat Matt sat in, but he could guess that Spartan-303 wasn't even breaking a sweat over the clumsy craft under his control. "This thing wasn't originally designed for this job."

Which was basically true. The "boarding craft" the Spartans were riding was in all actuality an extremely modified Bumblebee-class lifeboat. The UNSC hadn't had any real boarding craft for a while, but in the mad and chaotic rush following the death of the Prophet of Truth, they'd found themselves in dire need of one. As a stop-gap, HIGHCOM had ordered the conversion of several hundred of the readily available lifeboats (most of which had been created for ships that never managed to leave the shipyards, thanks to the Covenant) into boarding craft. The conversion was quick and dirty, really nothing more than attaching a docking collar to the base of the lifeboat and adding boarding equipment to its hull, and hadn't included such things as precision thrusters. Which was why Christian was now once again being thrown against his harness. Grumbling to himself, the leader of Alpha Team clicked his radio on.

"Comm check." He said over it, voice lowered by the G-force of another harsh turn. "Sound off."

"Two-Seven, I'm green." Grunted a female voice. Christian's eyes flicked over to the bow of the craft on the opposite side. Spartan-027, Hester, gave him a thumbs up. Christian returned it.

"Kelly here. Ready to kick some ass." Spartan-113, the squad's sniper and unofficial funny girl, chimed in from a couple seats ahead of Christian.

"Crowbar's good to go. Gimmie something to smash, boss." Coraline-011, so-called "Crowbar" for the archaic demolition tool she carried as a weapon, added her voice to the group from the seat directly across from Christian. She nodded to him, and Christian returned it.

The final member of Alpha Team didn't say anything. Christian was about to order a COM check when he realized she wouldn't be saying anything. Ever.

"Can you hear me, Echo?" He asked. In the lower right corner of his HUD, a green status light blinked. Probably the closest Echo would ever get to truly addressing her commanding officer.

Spartan-419 was one of the more…unusual candidates for the SPARTAN-IV program. Mute since birth, she had almost washed out of the program for her myriad problems.

Until she, single-handedly, unarmed, and un-augmented, beat four Drill Instructors into unconsciousness.

She'd been only 11 at the time.

Which was why she was now sitting next to Christian, ready to board the mysterious ship.

"Stand by!" Matt called out. "We're through the hole. ETA 35 seconds."

"Roger that." Christian replied. He reached down between his legs and hefted his BR55HBU Battle Rifle. In one smooth motion, he clicked off the safety, cycled the chamber and checked the magazine. The rifle clicked, the bolt cycled smoothly, and the electronic ammo counter on its optical rail read 72 rounds. Christian grunted. All was in order. Just to be sure, he ejected the mag and examined its load. 10x40mm M634 Ultra-High-Powered Semi-Armor-Piercing rounds, just as he'd ordered. He slammed the magazine home again and checked over his team. They too were preparing for the mission, checking over the advanced (in some cases experimental) weapons they had received from the Kelly's armory hours before.

Hester twirled her combat knife for a second before sliding it back into its sheath, then checked her dual M6D pistols. Kelly examined her SRS99E-S2 AMSO Sniper Rifle, giving Christian a good look at the large number of hash marks she'd cut into the barrel and body as she slid a magazine of eight 20x120mm HEAPHSFSDS rounds into its receiver. She adjusted something on the sight and grunted in approval. Coraline slapped her crowbar onto her right thigh's magnetic plate and yanked the charging lever on her MA5D rifle. She reached under her seat and slid an M10 HE-AP fragmentation grenade into the rifle's underslung M301 40mm grenade launcher. Echo, still silent, slid a series of 6-gauge Plasma-Boosted shells into her M90B shotgun and yanked the slide. She placed the pellet gun on her lap just long enough to check that the Energy Sword she had taken as a trophy from a defeated Brute (who in turn had taken it from an Elite) was attached to her leg. Several clicks emanated from the front of the landing craft, and Christian guessed Matt was checking his cherished M7S Silenced Submachine Gun. As if to prove his theory right, Matt attached the SMG to his thigh plate with a click.

Alpha Team was ready for action.

And not a moment to soon. Seconds after Matt finished with his SMG, the hull of the boarding craft reverberated with the sound of the docking ring attaching to part of the ship's damaged interior. Alpha Team simultaneously released their restraints and moved towards the back of the craft. They waited as the collar attached to the unknown ship, sealing with a loud hiss of pressurizing pneumatic plates. The noise reminded Christian of something he'd forgotten.

"Seal you suits." He barked. "We might be going into hard vacuum."

A chorus of affirmatives came back to him, and Alpha Team quickly sealed the few small openings in their suits and switched over to their three hour internal oxygen supply.

"Steady…" Christian muttered, as the docking collar finished it work and the sensor equipment started. "Steady…"

Alpha Team gripped their weapons, all eyes glued to the small light on the indicator panel over the back door. Suddenly, it winked green. The area on the other side was okay to enter. In one smooth motion, Christian punched the hatch release, bellowed "Now!", and, Alpha Team at his heels, jumped into the dark tube leading to the ship.


Anakin was awakened from his Force-assisted meditation by the chiming of his hyperdrive alarm. The Twilight was approaching the approximated point of entry for the fleeing enemy ship. Apparently his use of the Force to clear the way for himself had been successful. He uncrossed his legs from the pilot's seat and leaned forward. The small screen on his control console counted down towards the reversion to realspace. The moment it his zero, Anakin shoved the hyperdrive lever forward and slipped from the tunnel of bluish light to the black of real space.

What he saw gave him a shock.

Floating in front of him was the enemy ship. It looked heavily damaged, and its lights and engines were dark. It turned slightly, giving Anakin a good view of what else was in system with him.

Hung in space against the brilliant backdrop of a gas giant, two ships and what looked like a space station floated serenely. The station looked tiny, barely the size of the now-dark enemy ship's bridge, and didn't seemed to be armed. It reminded Anakin strongly of Skytop Station, the Separatist listening post he and Ahsoka had destroyed in Ruusan's atmosphere, except on a much smaller scale. It didn't really worry him.

What did worry him were the two ships behind the station. They were enormous, easily two or three times the size of a Venator-class Star Destroyer. They didn't look like anything he'd ever seen before. They looked…archaic. As if someone had taken an armored land vehicle and turned it into a spacecraft. Not only were they bizarre, but from what he could see, they were bristling with weaponry. Fighter-like craft swarmed over the one on the right, and the other one had large hexagonal sections of its body plate open. Anakin could see small towers rising from them. Most likely turrets of some form. Like turbolasers. Anakin didn't like it at all.

Quickly, the Jedi Knight flicked his eyes back to his control console. He was in the right position to execute a return jump. He could leave if he needed to.

But they hadn't noticed him yet… He decided to stay for a little longer. He still had a mission to carry out.

He turned his eyes back to the remains of the Separatist ship slowly turning before him. As he watched, it continued to turn, presenting the side he hadn't seen earlier to him. Anakin noticed a massive hole blown through what he guessed had been a hanger at some point. His suspicions were confirmed as the frigate continued to roll, showing more hangers along it's side. He guessed there were more on the opposite side.

So that was why it had spat out so many fighters. It'd had a couple hanger bays added. Just like the ships he'd dealt with in his escape from Grievous just before knocking out Skytop.

Anakin made a mental note to tell that to the Jedi Council when he returned. The Seppies always seemed to have something new up their grimy sleeves.

Suddenly, Anakin noticed something. Sitting inside the hole, stark white against the blacks and other dark colors of the destroyed battle plate and decks, lay a craft. Anakin couldn't get a good look at it, but he guessed its purpose.

A boarding craft. And he had a pretty good idea where from.

Anakin sprang into action, his mind made up by the sight of the craft attached to the enemy battle cruiser. He reached down and yanked the hyperdrive lever.

Whatever came next, he was going to need some backup.


Onboard the station, Sam sat in her usual chair, looking over the boring blank readings from the unknown ship and Alpha Team's transmitters and wished she was onboard with them instead of stuck here with Beta Team. Still, at least she wasn't alone. Now she had five other Spartan's to share the space with. Next to her, Edward (Spartan-313, the team's sniper) snoozed in the chair they hauled in from the Arthur a couple hours ago. He jerked awake spontaneously.

"What was that?" He asked, quickly scanning the panels in front of him though his Recon permutation helmet's visor.

"What was what?" Sam asked, looking over the same boards. Then she saw it. Less than a minute ago, the Slipspace monitor had picked up a sudden burst of energy on the opposite side of the unknown vessel. She'd turned off the alarms, so she hadn't noticed it. Apparently, it had just happened again. And Edward had noticed it. Which didn't surprise her. There wasn't much the sniper missed.

Both Spartans leaned in over their panels. From what Sam could see, whatever had jumped hadn't been too big, about the size of a Longsword. Not big enough for anything threatening. But perfect for a scout craft. Sam stood up abruptly.

"Get the Chief down here now," She said, anticipation and fear mixing in her chest. "It looks like we're going to have company."