Battlestar Galactica: The Guiding Fire
(A Battlestar Galactica-Halo Wars crossover)
Episode 1
Those Once Lost: Part 2
Guest Starring Shia LaBeouf as Ensign Reilly
199 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
RECON FLIGHT 01
CAPTAIN KARA (STARBUCK) THRACE, VIPER 8757
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
24 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
"This is Admiral Adama of the Colonial Navy Ship: Battlestar Galactica. Unknown ship, identify yourself and state your intentions."
"Colonial Navy Ship Battlestar Galactica, this is Captain James Cutter of the - Spirit of Fire, hold your 'stance'. Repeat, hold your 'stance' immediately."
Starbuck cursed internally as she gunned her Viper at full burn toward Galactica. "Ship designated Spirit of Fire is turning in our direction, bearing zero, carom one-zero-zero, detecting fighter launch, thirty plus bogies." Starbuck heard Gaeta say through the wireless, biting her lip while she anxiously watched the number count down to when she'd be in effective range.
199 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA BS-75
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
26 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
"Galactica, this is Starbuck, do you read?"
Adama held up the speaker to his mouth. "This is Galactica Actual, we read you Starbuck, what is your status?"
"Galactica Actual do not engage the Spirit of Fire, I repeat, do not engage! I have reason to believe this may be a ship from the Thirteenth Tribe!"
Adama and Tigh shared a glance as the entire CIC suddenly fell quiet. "Explain your reasoning Captain." Adama ordered.
"I spoke with Spirit of Fire's Captain, he said they identified our language as something that was spoken on Earth but it was ancient to them. That's why we're only getting partial and off-worded translations of what they're saying."
"Well that doesn't mean jack shit Bill, this is either just a trap to get us away so the Cylons can nuke us to hell or a diversion to get Galactica away from the fleet so they can take out as many civilian ships as they can."
"Pegasus is still guarding the fleet and the Cylons know she'd be a tough one to beat in a stand up fight. But if this is a trap," Adama said, spreading out the photographs Raptor 307 took of the mystery ship, its design unlike any Colonial ship ever constructed. "Then it's a damn elaborate one."
Adama held the speaker back up. "Starbuck, do you copy?"
"This is Starbuck, I copy Galactica."
"What is you assessment of the Spirit of Fire?"
"We got a lot of unknowns but my gut's telling me we shouldn't jump the gun and start shooting. If these guys really are from the Thirteenth then we just got handed an express ticket to Earth."
"Copy Starbuck, join up with your squadron and await further instructions, Galactica Actual out." With that Bill set down his phone. "Stand down to Condition Two but as soon as we're in range I want full weapons lock on that ship and have our missile tubes on standby."
APRIL 16 2534 1561 HOURS
UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE CFV-88
MAIN BRIDGE
30 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
"Captain, the Galactica is holding its current heading and speed despite our requests for them to maintain distance. I am also detecting several nuclear signatures as well as numerous electromagnetic weapon signatures aboard the vessel." Serina alerted.
"Open a channel Serina." Cutter Ordered. "Battlestar Galactica, this is Captain Cutter, we are detecting the activation of nuclear weapons, state your intentions." Serina had some trouble translating the term 'nuclear' into a supposed dead language but she was certain these Colonials would get the gist of it.
"Spirit of Fire, this is Admiral Adama, we are unclear to your 'nature' and until it is 'made clear' you will be treated as a threat. We are preparing several boarding teams to confirm the information you provided as fact and that you are human. 'Sheath weapons' and prepare to receive them, any actions 'seen' as aggressive will be treated as hostile and acted upon with lethal force, Galactica out."
Those words cut deep, as technical as it sounded it was still: surrender and prepare to be boarded and it still brought a sour look to the face of Spirit of Fire's Captain. Giving up his ship and telling his crew to do the same after all they had overcome and to a bunch of strangers whose intentions were unclear. Cutter couldn't stand for it. "Battlestar Galactica, that isn't going to happen, Spirit of Fire is bringing additional weapons online and they will stay that way until you cease your advance and remove your nukes from firing position, any unauthorized boarding of my ship will be repelled with lethal force." Cutter stated firmly.
"Serina, bring our bow mounted Archer Missiles online and warm up the fire control for the primary MAC guns."
"Aye sir, anything else? Maybe a Shiva or two would get them to hit the brakes." Serina suggested. Cutter left his chair, moving to the bridge's window where he could see a little grey dot that was the Galactica. Brining the Spirit's weapons online would buy them some time but Cutter could plainly see the writing on the wall. Cutter could tell just from his voice this Adama wasn't one to be intimidated and that if they both stayed this course then it would end with one ship blowing the hell out of the other, or the destruction of the both vessels.
Cutter paused as a plan formed in his head. "What's the status of Red Team, I think I may have an idea on how to resolve this one way or another."
APRIL 16 2534 1571 HOURS
UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE CFV-88
PELICAN BAY 05
40 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
"She's checked and ready." Douglas 042 reported.
"Good," Jerome 092 replied as he began the engine warm up sequence inside the cockpit. The Pelican's systems seemed to be running a little slow after gathering dust over the past three years. As a Spartan, Jerome should have had more forethought about such situations and had Serina periodically bring them out of cryo to properly maintain a portion of the weapons, munitions and vehicles. But it was hard to think after the events that took place on that artificial planet and Jerome had let his mind lax a moment for the passing of Sergeant Forge. "Alice, how's it going?"
"Ammunition and demo pack secured, weapons are cleaned and ready. I still feel like I should go back and grab a launcher to be safe though." Came the reserved reply from Alice 130.
"We have enough C-12 to commit a war crime. I think were good." Douglas piped in as Jerome entered the troop compartment to retrieve his freshly cleaned MA5B and Magnum from his teammate. "Besides, gonna be tight quarters. Not really appropriate for guided missiles." Douglas finished as he hefted Alice's HMG into the troop bay with a single hand.
Jerome detected a very slight huff of air from Alice before she tossed Douglas his shotgun from her seat on the port side of the troop bay. "I bet you my strings of Elite and Jackal teeth that you'll wish we had one before the mission's over."
"Mine are almost double yours." Douglas refuted while he began filling his shotgun's tubular magazine with fresh shells from the bandoleer that hung across his shoulder.
Alice cocked her head almost imperceptibly. "Yeah but the ones I have are from higher ranking covies."
"Red Team Leader, this is Cutter, what's your team's status?" The Captain's voice piped into their helmets' speakers.
The Spartans stiffened, even if the officer wasn't present, their deeply ingrained training commanded that they stand at attention. "Apologies for the delay sir, it won't happen again. Spartan Red Team is ready to go on your order. " Jerome reported.
"No apologies necessary Spartan, I have a new mission for you and your team. Serina, give them the details."
"My pleasure Captain. Alright Spartans here's what's been going on. As of ten minutes ago Admiral Adama, the commander of the Battlestar Galactica declared his intent to board Spirit of Fire. Naturally, that didn't sit to well with the Captain and we are now pointing every forward mounted Archer Pod at the Admiral's quaint looking tub. Since then Galactica is now holding its position at thirty kilometers and the Captain with Admiral Adama have come to an agreement."
"Us?" Douglas asked with some surprise.
"Officially Spirit of Fire is sending over a small three man team to deliver an extraterrestrial greeting data-package, which I am downloading to your Pelican currently, and negotiate a stand down of arms. The only omission on our part is that the three we are sending are all highly trained super-soldiers wearing the most advanced defensive equipment made by man."
"What are our orders?" The Spartan team's leader asked as he loaded a full magazine into his MA5B.
"Exactly as I've said, you are to deliver the data-package and act as an intermediary to negotiate a stand down of arms." Serina explained sincerely.
Alice looked to Jerome and then to Douglas, looking if they had any idea what Serina was talking about but they only returned her stare as clueless as she was. "I think we're missing the subtext here."
"No subtext Spartans, Red Team has been selected because of your statistically low probability to be captured and used as hostages. And if the negotiations do go south then…"
"We do what we do best." Douglas cocked his shotgun. "Right boss?"
Jerome nodded in return. "What about our weapons and munitions?"
"Keep them on the Pelican if this Admiral Adama won't allow you to carry them aboard and then engage the lock down protocols. Can't tolerate strangers confiscating UNSC property now can we?"
"Affirmative, when do we leave?"
"When can you go?" Serina replied.
Without a moments pause, Jerome answered. "We'll be in the air in thirty, Red Team out." Jerome finished before returning to the cockpit. "Get strapped in Spartans, were going on a field trip."
Douglas stepped into the dropship with Alice's gaze following him as he moved across to the cockpit to join Jerome. He paused at the doorway just before entering. "Fine, I'll take your dumb bet." He begrudgingly gave up as the bay door shut and the engines began whining to life.
APRIL 16 2534 1615 HOURS
SPARTAN RED TEAM
PELICAN BRAVO 171
ENROUTE TO BATTLESTAR GALACTICA
44 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
"This is Pelican bravo one-seven-one to the Battlestar Galactica, do you copy?" Jerome requested.
"Rodger that Pel-i-can bra-vo one-seven-one, we read you." Galactica's communications officer responded. He could barely tell the officer was a woman through the distortions from the outdated radio systems these Colonials used. "Proceed on your current heading and we will have escorts waiting at the half way point to guide you to the port flight pod for landing."
"Instructions confirmed Galactica, will proceed on heading at current speed, Pelican Bravo One-Seven-One out."
As Jerome closed the comm channel Alice joined them, carrying two M7 Caseless Submachine Guns and several magazines. "Forgot these," She said to Douglas and handed them up to her teammate in the copilot's station. The Spartan locked the guns and ammunition to the built in holsters of his armor and nodded back to her in gratitude.
"Spartans," Serina chimed in through an encrypted channel. "I'm sending detailed images of Galactica to you now."
"Much obliged Spirit, will keep you notified of our situation, Sierra Zero-Nine-Two out." Jerome replied as several images of the ship appeared on the Spartans' HUDs.
"Thing really is a tub." Alice commented.
Douglas grunted in agreement. "All that structural ribbing might help compound an implosion. If we get the C-12 in the right location, could take out a third of the ship."
"Not with us on it I hope." Alice said back.
Jerome looked over his shoulder at his teammates. "We'll keep it as Plan C if we can't secure the bridge and command personnel. Should negotiations fail." He added. Alice read between the lines. Diplomatic mission or not, it was telling how much faith the Captain had in that solution if he was sending them. Any negotiations were far more likely to happen at the barrels of their guns than at a table.
Alice disliked the idea of fighting other humans. After combating monstrous aliens it was hard to think about going back to fighting their own kind. Jerome, it seemed could sense Alice's unease and turned completely around to face her. "Plan B only happens if they mess up Alice. We escalate only if they fire the first shot."
Alice nodded in return. "I know that, I'll be ready." She replied solidly.
Douglas brought an end to the tenuous moment between his fellow Spartans. "We're approaching the halfway point boss, Viper escorts in visual range."
Jerome turned back around and opened a channel to the Colonial Vipers. "Vipers do you copy? This is Pelican Bravo One-Seven-One ready for escort to Galactica."
"Pelican Bravo One-Seven-One, this is Viper Eight-Seven-Five-Seven, I copy. We are moving now into escort position on your wings. I've been advised to tell you not to deviate from course except under my instructions. Do you understand Pelican Bravo One-Seven-One?" The translations were becoming clearer each time thanks to the real time data-stream from Serina. Hopefully they would have an accurate language database in not too long.
"Copy last transmission Viper Eight-Seven-Five-Seven, will not deviate from course unless instructed." Jerome watched as the odd looking pair of craft accelerate and then execute a perfect tail-over-head flip and reorientation and quickly matched the Pelican's speed.
"Can maneuver pretty good, but I bet they're armored for shit." Douglas said as the smaller Vipers sided up to the comparatively large dropship. Jerome looked off to the port side and could see the pilot of the stylized red and white craft and found her staring right back at him, and smiling.
"My name is Captain Kara Thrace, you can call me Starbuck. I spoke with your Captain earlier." Starbuck said.
"You were first contact?" Jerome questioned.
"Confirmed Bravo One-Seven-One. Wasn't able to get the grand tour but I'll make sure you receive it when you're aboard." Starbuck replied. "But that might take awhile, that ship of yours looks like it'll be a tight fit for the hangar deck."
"Roger that Starbuck, we appreciate the heads up." Jerome switched off the channel. "Douglas, send a secure transmission back to Spirit. Message reads: Red Team affirms human presence aboard Colonial vessels. Proceeding with Viper escorts to Battlestar Galactica, no signs of ulterior motives detected at this time. Message ends."
"On it." Douglas confirmed, accessing the Pelican's maser transmitter.
"So what's your name? You mind if I ask where you're from on Earth?" Starbuck asked.
"My name and rank is Petty Officer First Class Spartan Jerome Zero-Nine-Two but I'm not from Earth Captain. Spirit of Fire probably has crewmen who are though."
"Where are you from then Spartan Jerome?"
Jerome paused, truthfully he couldn't remember the name of his home world. There was only one place that he felt remotely came close to being that. "I'm from a planet called Reach, all three of us aboard are."
"Reach, huh? I like the name, so what's it like there?"
"Reach was shaped by meteors from a nearby asteroid belt. The impacts created entire seas and tall sharp mountain ranges. And the planet's strong magnetic field combined with the light from a nearby nebula creates an aurora effect throughout the atmosphere." Jerome's explanation came off as very factual to Alice but it lacked any personal detail. Jerome was just listing known facts and little else. That was how he thought, that was why he was Red Team's leader. Nothing got to Jerome, ever. He could tune out his emotions better than anyone else and devise the best plan to complete their missions while minimizing risk. Well, the Spartan degree of minimum risk. Those were his two rules and he always said them before they set boots on the ground: 'Complete the mission, no one dies.' Jerome was a solid pillar other Spartans could hold on to and he had one of the best tactical minds in the entire Spartan II Class. If he or John were leading them, victory was assured.
But Jerome still lacked personality sometimes. "Reach can be tough place, even if you're ready for it." Alice spoke up. "The forests are thick and the air is always brisk. It's either cold and wet or cold and dry wherever you are. Reach will kick you in the ass if you underestimate it. But when you figure it out, you see a whole other side of it and the place feels like home. The name's Alice by the way."
"Sound's like one hell of an interesting place you're from." Starbuck said as they passed the defensive formations of Galactica's Vipers holding their positions in the blackness of space with occasional visible bursts of their maneuvering thrusters. By the Pelican's radar there were about 43 Vipers and four of the 'Raptor' class craft among them. The Spartans' attention soon turned to the vessel in front of them, growing ever larger as the distance between them shrank steadily.
"Pelican Bravo One-Seven-One this is Starbuck, I've just received instructions from Galactica." Starbuck relayed to Jerome.
"Bravo One-Seven-One copies, Captain." Jerome confirmed.
"They're sending out a Raptor to look you over and make sure you guys aren't carrying anything that you're not supposed to. They want to know if you can open your rear door without 'loosing air'." Starbuck relayed with some concern in her voice.
"We will comply, Captain. Pelican Bravo One-Seven-One out." Jerome turned back to Alice. "Get the packs and equipment up here, they're already en route. ETA: thirty seconds."
Alice nodded. "On it." And reentered the troop bay, a few seconds later the ammo and explosives packs were tossed into the forward compartment.
"Pelican Bravo One-Seven-One this is Raptor Three-Zero-Seven. We are approaching now. Open your rear compartment for inspection immediately." The Spartans collectively heard in their helmets' speakers from the female Raptor pilot. Upon hearing this, Alice removed her HMG from the straps securing it to the bay deck plate and brought it too into the cockpit.
"All clear." Alice confirmed before heading back to keep an eye on the Raptor during its inspection.
199 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
LT MARGARET (RACETRACK) EDMONDSON, RAPTOR 307
5 KILOMETERS FROM GALACTICA
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
54 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
Racetrack held the Raptor in position just behind the Pelican's hefty tail section, the damn thing looked big enough to pack in several squads of marines or a full lance of Centurions she thought pessimistically. The Raptor pilot opened a private channel to the other Viper flying escort. "Reilly, take position on my wing, we're gonna be sitting ducks for the toasters in there when that door opens. The moment we call out Cylons, I want you to blow that thing to hell, got it?"
"But what about Starbuck, she said she had a gut feeling about these guys." Reilly replied
"Frak her and her guts, this has trap written up and down it plain as day, anyone with a bit of sense can see it. Now form up on my wing, you want to kill some canners or what?"
The channel went dark and Reilly's Viper took position on the Raptor's portside much to Racetrack's satisfaction. Newbies were so easy to boss around.
"We got activity on the bird." Skulls called out from his station. Ahead Racetrack could see the door under the dropship's tail split horizontally and open outward, revealing a nearly empty interior save for on lone figure standing on the right side of the entrance looking out at the Raptor.
Skulls trained the Raptor's searchlight on the Pelican's open compartment but the focus quickly moved to who or what was standing in it.
"Rear crew compartment is empty, no munitions or extra personnel on board…wait what the frak?" Racetrack said as the olive green armored figure was illuminated. "Skulls, what do you have on the camera?" She asked quickly concern growing in her voice.
"Holy shit it's a Centurion!"
Racetrack looked back at her copilot at the ECO station. "Are you sure, that doesn't look like any I've ever seen."
"It's gotta be a new model." Skulls replied his voice more stressed than her own.
Racetrack turned back to the controls and opened a channel to Galactica. "This is Raptor Three-Oh-Seven to Galactica, we have spotted possible Centurion presence onboard, requesting instruction."
"Raptor Three-Oh-Seven this is Starbuck, describe…" Racetrack heard Starbuck ask but she was quickly drowned out by Skulls.
"Possible my ass Racetrack, it's a fraking canner! That thing is seven feet tall and covered in metal, it's a Gods damned Cylon no matter how it's painted!"
"Just hold on!" Racetrack called but it was too late.
"Viper Ten-Twenty-Six this is Raptor Three-Oh-Seven, we have spotted a Centurion on board, open fire!"
Just as the reply from Galactica started to come in Racetrack saw the bursts from the Viper's guns impact the alien dropship's starboard nacelle.
APRIL 16 2534 1619 HOURS
SPARTAN RED TEAM
PELICAN BRAVO 171
58 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
Alice held on for dear life as the Pelican rocked from its starboard nacelle exploding. It was a damn good thing these birds could take a beating, otherwise they would all be dust right now.
"Why are they shooting?!" Douglas exclaimed.
"Doesn't matter, hold on." Jerome interrupted. Alice watched as the Raptor behind them got bucked by the Pelican's rear thrusters firing at full burn. It wasn't long until the Viper that had fired on them began to close the distance with captain Thrace's Viper following shortly behind him. Alice took a wide stance and engaged the electromagnets in her boots at full power, affixing the Spartan to the floor of the Pelican while she pulled the assault rifle from her back.
The MA5B wasn't optimized for range like its brother rifle, the MA5C. It packed a ridiculous sixty round magazine and had an insane firing rate of 900 7.62mm rounds per minute. It was meant for defending and capturing ships, using their tight hallways and closed spaces for maximum carnage. It was widely regarded as an overblown submachine gun by Marines who couldn't use the weapon to its full effectiveness.
But it was in the hands of a Spartan.
Alice took aim as the Viper started to come in to finish them off. In the corner of her vision she could see the nose of Galactica, Alice just needed to hold these bastards off until they landed in the flight pod. Alice fired a quick burst in front of the Viper, causing the craft to buck a little in reaction. The pilot was a rookie, a more experienced pilot wouldn't flinch at incoming fire, however the Viper accelerated again and resumed its pursuit, this time coming in even faster than before. Alice barely had time to adjust as she trained her reticule on the Viper's flight path and squeezed the trigger, letting fly nearly the entire magazine's worth of armor piercing rounds, raking along the Viper's fuselage with dozens of holes. Douglas was right, they did have crap for armor. Unfortunately for the Spartan, Viper Mark II's were sturdy and incredibly well engineered craft despite their age. The fighter had lost a bit of its stability from the hail of bullets it had weathered but still managed to fire a burst into the Pelican's tail, disabling another of its engines and the craft to lose control.
Starbuck watched as the tail section tore from the Pelican's main body before the bisected remains of the 13th tribe ship crash land on the flight pod's landing strip, a feeling of dread washing over her.