1747 Hours, November 27th, 2557 (Shipboard Time), UNSC Kirkwall, Unknown System
As the familiar bubble of Slipspace faded from around the outside of the Prowler-class vessel, its pilot, the Spartan known as Lieutenant Commander Tom-292 saw on his view screen an impossible image. Tom hurriedly checked his readouts again. There was no mistaking it. Upon his ship's engagement with Covenant-remnant forces, he had escaped into Slipspace via a slingshot around the system's star on a completely random vector generated by his ships A.I., Hrothgar. Now that random vector had been projected to take him somewhere well... Random. Yet all the information given to him by the screen in front of him and by all his sensor readouts, indicated he had exited slipspace approximately 300,000km from the unmistakable blue orb that had been humanities birthplace. Every instrument, his star charts, galactic positioning system, even Hrothgar was telling him this was Earth. He knew right away however that this wasn't the Earth he had been born on. The distinct lack of orbital armaments, the massive void in which hundreds of ships usually sat and the fact that every communication signal that he sent out was not being answered, quickly alerted him to his unusual situation. He had almost begun to plot a trajectory for the planets surface when suddenly, a new object appeared on his sensors. A ship, fairly small by UNSC standards was making its way out towards him. The ship was unlike anything he had ever seen, small yet surprisingly fast, a faint energy signature emanating from the hull indicating the presence of some form of shielding and designed in such a way that made it unmistakably human. Long and rectangular, designed more for functionality than luxury. He quickly activated his ships communications relay and transmitted a message to the unknown ship.
"Unidentified vessel, I am Lieutenant Commander Tom-292 of the UNSC Kirkwall. My ship came under fire from Covenant forces and is severely damaged. Requesting immediate assistance."
His ship, whilst damaged, was still capable of making an emergency slipspace jump, should the ship prove to be hostile. However his curiosity had been piqued and he needed to know what was going on. If this was Earth and something untoward had happened to it, he needed to find out who the threat was and if need be assist any UNSC personnel in eliminating it. Besides, once most people found out he was UNSC they would be likely to help him. Hrothgar popped up on the pedestal next to him.
Whilst most "smart" A.I. took on the persona of the person whose brain imprint they had been made from, Hrothgar tended to prefer appearing as the legendary Danish king after whom he was named. This led most people to assume that he was only a "dumb" A.I. It also meant that most people tended to have conversations around him that they otherwise wouldn't if they knew he was actually a "smart" A.I. The underestimation of his programming allowed him to perform his job as an Office of Naval Intelligence A.I. exceptionally well as he relayed any and all conversations directly back to Vice-Admiral Margaret Parangosky herself. He had been assigned to assist and oversee the transportation of the Kirkwall's most valuable cargo, Spartan armour and augmentation equipment. ONI was in the middle of transferring most of the leftovers of the Spartan-III project off of Trevelyan (formerly Onyx) and had assigned Spartans to oversee the shipments. Most were one-man, Prowler-class ships, designed for the sole purpose of carrying the sensitive cargo off-world undetected. They would then link up with larger ONI vessels, somewhere in deep space and offload the cargo to be taken to an undisclosed location. Tom and Hrothgar had made a few of these drop-offs now and were under the orders that if they were ever engaged, they were to make a randomised slipsapce jump, similar to those that were ordered whilst the Cole Protocol was in effect. Hrothgar noted that ONI paranoia had now forced them into this incomprehensible situation. He looked out the view panel and then turned to the Spartan sitting in the pilot's chair.
"We should probably be making a run for it don't you think? That vessel apart from being unidentified and orbiting what is almost certainly Earth, has some serious firepower attached to it. This in top of the fact that our orders follow strict instructions regarding the disposal of our cargo if we are engaged," Hrothgar calmly stated.
"I know but aren't you slightly curious as to why we are where we are with our instruments giving every indication that this is Earth?" Tom inquired. "I think we should at least establish whether or not we are up against hostile forces before we turn tail and run. Whoever is on that ship may be able to tell us what the hell is going on. That and the fact that I don't really fancy jettisoning enough augmentations and armour to create half a squad of Spartans without some idea of what we have on our plate."
"Your logic is sound Tom, however I do believe we should apply more caution rather than just announcing who we are to a completely unknown ship."
Tom now turned to face Hrothgar. The Spartan had bright blue eyes, a result of his occular augmentations. They seemed to look straight through Hrothgar as if he wasn't there and this coupled with the large scar down the side of his face, made most people feel uncomfortable. It was probably due to this fact that most of the time, Tom kept his helmet on. However this rare moment was usually reserved for a few people (or A.I.) that he felt comfortable around and after serving with Hrothgar now for almost a year and a half, the A.I. was one of those few.
"Well what I am thinking is that this is some kind of ONI prototype. I mean who else could put something like this together? Shields and firepower the likes of which our sensors can't even identify? Has to be something to do with Naval Intelligence. Can't be anything else," replied the Spartan.
His tone seemed to press Hrothgar for answers. However the A.I. was as in the dark about this new ship as the Spartan. He didn't mention this however and proceeded to continue to eschew caution.
"Once again your logic is sound and I agree with your points but however valid, I would advise a more tactical approach. When have you ever known ONI to be open about this sort of thing. If they deem you a threat to the security of whatever top secret project this is they will terminate us before we can even begin to explain who we are and what we are doing here."
Tom sighed.
"Alright, alright. Maybe a little bit more secrecy. If they are ONI they will know who we are already regardless, but I'll be a bit more careful. What do you think..."
The conversation was cut short by a broadcast over the comm channel.
"UNSC Kirkwall, this is the United States Air Force Daedalus. You are trespassing on Earth space, however if your ship is damaged we can look to assist you. But firsts things first, we would like you to come aboard and ensure that your intentions are non-hostile," an unknown voice stated.
Tom was still surprised by what he had heard but began to chuckle.
"Well this day just got a hell of a lot more interesting."
0522 Hours, August 10th, 2010 (USAF Military Calendar), Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
Colonel Cameron Mitchell looked at his watch for the third time in as little as five minutes. All around him people were busy bustling about, preparing for the Daedalus' resupply stop. He on the other hand was counting down the minutes till he, along with his team known as SG-1, as well as a whole new compliment of crew and supplies for the Daedalus, would beam aboard and begin the 18 day journey to resupply Atlantis. The Atlantean expedition had recently been restarted as a Wraith "Super-Hive" invasion had forced the city back to Earth where it aided in the planet's defence. With the threat neutralised and the city-ship returned to the Pegasus galaxy, the Atlantean expedition had nearly returned to full operating capacity. This however meant that constant resupply runs were required whilst the operation worked to towards self-sustainability. Mitchell didn't care what type of mission it was, it was a mission and he was itching to get off-world. SG-1 were scheduled for an off-world trip to the planet P3S-91J however there had been a disturbance in the sub-space network in which the Stargates used to connect to one another and establish wormholes. This meant that travel to and from planets was impossible as the wormholes varied in stability and rather than risk teams being stranded without support, all missions for the day were scrapped. For Mitchell it was a huge disappointment. He loved his job as the commanding officer of the SGC's flagship team, however now that most of the significant threats to Earth such as the Goa'uld, the Replicators and the Ori, just to name a few, were now almost non-existent, SG-1 had now been sent back to a more exploratory and diplomatic role. That being said they still met their fair share of bad guys, usually in the form of Lucian Alliance forces, however none were as dangerous or as threatening as their former foes. Whilst it went largely unspoken, Mitchell missed the days of the frantic search for the next "ace in the hole that would save the Earth from certain destruction". So now he took solace in his regular trips off-world, meaning that when one had been delayed or cancelled, for whatever reason it put a dampener on his day. Now with his team's reassignment to the Atlantis resupply run, he was once again chipper, yet impatient to get off-world. He had just begun assessing his pack and gear for the tenth time when alarm bells began ringing throughout the base. Almost everyone around him scurried off, dropping whatever they had been doing in the process. Mitchell, Teal'c, Daniel Jackson, Colonel Samantha Carter and Vala Mal Doran all begun hurriedly making their way towards the main control room. When they got there they were greeted by General Hank Landry, commanding officer of the SGC.
"What's going on General?" Mitchell inquired.
"Not sure Colonel. We just had our long range sensors pick up an unidentified ship drop out of hyperspace about 300,000 km away from Earth," General Landry replied. "We are sending the Daedalus out to investigate. Whatever it is Colonel it is relatively small in size, however we can't be sure what kind of a threat it poses until we get a closer look. You and SG-1 are to beam aboard the Daedalus immediately and accompany them out to investigate."
The General moved towards a comm panel.
"Daedalus this is General Landry. You have permission to beam aboard SG-1 on your go."
Suddenly, a bright white light, enveloped the entirety of Mitchell and his team and seconds later they were no longer standing in the control room of the SGC, rather they were now on the bridge of the Daedalus, which had begun to move out to where a relatively small ship had suddenly appeared.
Mitchell turned to Colonel Stephen Caldwell, who was sitting in the command chair of the bridge.
"So whats the situation? Has the ship attempted to make contact?" Mitchell asked.
"No, but by the looks of it, it's severely damaged and may be unable to make contact. We are moving to an intercept position and once there we will try again," Caldwell replied.
The ship sped out into space and it wasn't long before they had reached their intended destination. The bridge had begun to make preparations for a broadcast across all open frequencies when a message came across from the damaged ship.
"Unidentified vessel, I am Lieutenant Commander Tom-292 of the UNSC Kirkwall. My ship came under fire from Covenant forces and is severely damaged. Requesting immediate assistance."
Mitchell and Caldwell exchanged confused looks.
"UNSC? Sounds like a military organisation," Mitchell stated.
"Maybe. We should take this a little more carefully. Major Marks, what's the status of the unknown vessel? Weapons capabilities? Shielding? How much of a threat is this thing?" Caldwell inquired.
Major Marks had been furiously working to ascertain these things before Caldwell asked. It had not been easy. The ship did not match anything that the SGC had on record.
"As far as I can tell sir, the ship is quite damaged. No weapons systems or shielding are online. The ship does seem to have limited hyperspace capabilities however and would seem to be readying them in case of any attack from us," Marks answered, still hurriedly pressing buttons to keep his information up to date.
Caldwell now turned to Lieutenant Mark Stuart, the communications officer for the Daedalus.
"Stuart, open up a channel to the ship."
Now Colonel Carter spoke.
"Sir what are you proposing to do? If that ship is as severely damaged as it seems, whoever is on board may need help. The ship quite clearly doesn't pose a threat and I think it would be wrong to just blast them out of the sky without at least finding out who or what they are."
"I know Carter. Whoever is on board has to know we outgun them, so my thinking is they will not be wanting to take us on either. Which is why I'm going to ask them aboard the ship. That way we can establish if they are hostile or not and also render them the assistance that they require," Caldwell answered calmly.
Mitchell nodded in agreement.
"Colonel, comlink established," informed Lt. Stuart.
Caldwell now leaned over to the microphone in the arm of his command chair.
"UNSC Kirkwall, this is the United States Air Force Daedalus. You are trespassing on Earth space, however if your ship is damaged we can look to assist you. But firsts things first, we would like you to come aboard and ensure that your intentions are non-hostile."
For a moment there was silence over the channel and then the same voice that had sent the initial communication replied.
"Very well, I will make my way over to your ship now."
"No need. We have a way to beam you aboard without the need for conventional transportation. Inform us when you are ready and we will bring you over," Caldwell asserted. "Mitchell, take SG-1 and gear up. I want you at the hangar bay ready to recieve our mystery guest."
Mitchell nodded and almost in unison, SG-1 all turned and left the bridge at the same time. Mitchell smiled. Maybe today wouldn't be so boring after all.
