Alpha Interlude

Chi1 Orionis system
Columbia NX-02
December 20, 2152

"Dropping out of warp. Engaging impulse drive. We'll be in orbit of Coridan in approximately seven minutes, Captain."

"Excellent news, Lieutenant. Mister Pierce, please transmit our docking request." Anthony Gabriel Robinson, better known as "A.G." to his acquaintances, leaned against the arm of Columbia's command chair, consulting the small computer attached to the furniture.

Columbia's dilithium reserves had dropped significantly in the year since the NX-class starship had departed from Mars, necessitating their visit to the dilithium-rich planet before them. The Coridanites made a significant amount of their yearly income mining and refining the valuable element and selling it to many spacefaring races in the region. Hell, much of the dilithium Columbia and her sister ship, Enterprise, had been allotted before leaving the Sol system came from Coridan.

Ensign Pierce soon reported, "We've been given clearance, sir." Robinson instructed the helmsman to follow the course given by the planet's orbital traffic controllers. "Captain," Pierce spoke up a minute later, "I'm receiving a transmission from Starfleet Command. 'Priority One, encryption scheme Omega-Five. Captain's eyes and ears only.'"

Robinson's eyes widened. Priority One transmissions alone were nothing to scoff at, but for the regular security protocols to be reinforced by the implementation of one of the strongest encryptions in Starfleet and an explicit "eyes only" directive? Something serious must've gone down since they last communicated with HQ.

"Send it to my ready room," he ordered, already moving towards said office. "Lawson, you have the conn." Robinson barely registered the science officer's affirmative response as he slipped through the doorway. After ensuring that the door was sealed behind him, Robinson seated himself before the ready room's computer and pulled up the communications function. Activating the appropriate encryption protocols and inputting his credentials, Robinson was soon greeted by the familiar visage of Admiral Forrest.

The admiral in charge of the NX Program wasn't alone, however. Sharing the divided screen was the Chief of Operations herself, Constance Schrieber. Robinson felt the hairs on the back of his neck shoot upright. That's not a good sign.

"Captain," Forrest greeted. "How're you all doing out there?"

"We're doing well, sir," Robinson answered, his tone a mix of confusion and concern. "Though, if I might be so bold, I doubt you invoked all these extra security measures on a Priority One channel to play catch up; certainly not with the Chief of Ops listening in. What's going on, sir? Ma'am?"

"Yes, let's not beat around the bush, Maxwell," Schrieber chimed in. "Two days ago, an unidentified warship appeared in orbit of Jupiter. Jupiter Station eventually established contact with said warship and discovered that it was crewed by a previously unknown human faction."

Robinson felt his jaw drop at the proclamation.

"Many of the details are classified at this time, but it has been deemed necessary to inform all commands outside the Sol system of the situation. The Spirit of Fire, the warship we encountered, was not the only starship of its faction to appear in United Earth-aligned space. Deneva Colony reported a similar encounter with another ship, the Toulouse. Both starships have suffered varying degrees of battle damage, and the Toulouse has several dozen civilian refugees onboard.

"We do not know if there are any more UNSC starships out there, and we do not know if their enemies have also found themselves lost in our little corner of the galaxy. Therefore, Captain, your new orders are as follows:

"If you encounter any UNSC assets, be they lone ships or battle fleets, you are to inform Starfleet Command of their location and initiate contact with them. Depending on the outcome of first contact, you will then direct them towards the Sol system, where they will rendezvous with the Spirit of Fire. Her captain will brief them further on the situation.

"If you encounter any ships belonging to the UNSC's enemies—the Covenant—you are to immediately evacuate from the area and report their location to Starfleet Command. In both scenarios, you are to use a Priority One channel, encryption scheme Omega-Five.

"Do you understand these directives, Captain?"

Robinson took a moment to moisten his dried-out mouth, swallowing the saliva before answering, "Yes, ma'am. I assume we'll be receiving a data package detailing UNSC and Covenant designs?"

Schrieber nodded. "Admiral Forrest will brief you on the finer details. I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to in addition to spreading the word. One final thing, Captain, and it should go without saying: this information is strictly need-to-know. Inform only your senior officers. No more."

"Understood, Admiral."

With a terse nod, Schrieber terminated her connection, Forrest's visage enlarging to take up the entire screen.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" After receiving a nod from Forrest, "What the fuck is going on, Max?!"

I—I—A

Interstellar space
Enterprise NX-01
December 20, 2152

The troubled look on Captain Archer's face was the second indication Hoshi Sato had that something was wrong.

Her first clue had been the Priority One hail from Starfleet Command. Omega-Five encryption was only used for very sensitive communiques. The part about it being for Archer's eyes and ears only deepened the pit growing in her stomach.

After a while—about thirty minutes, according to her station's chronometer—Archer ordered all senior staff to Conference Room One. A few minutes after that, the man himself stepped into the room, drawing the attention of his gathered subordinates.

Commander Tucker was the first to speak. "What's going on, Captain?"

"Starfleet has made contact with a previously unknown faction of humans," Archer said after a moment's silence.

Hoshi exchanged disbelieving glances with the Enterprise's primary helmsman, Travis Mayweather. "You mean, like, a lost colony?" the helmsman asked.

"They didn't say. According to Admiral Schrieber—" The Chief of Ops herself called them?! "—many of the details surrounding this faction are highly classified. The only reason we are even being informed is because two of their warships spontaneously appeared in the Sol and Kappa Fornacis systems—near Jupiter and Deneva, respectively."

Archer paused to let that sink in. "'Spontaneously appeared,' Captain?" Lieutenant Reed questioned hesitantly.

"Apparently, they use a new form of faster-than-light travel—new even to the Vulcans." Hoshi cast a sideways glance at one of the two non-humans on board. T'Pol raised an upswept eyebrow at Archer's claim. "These... slipspace drives supposedly create a wormhole of sorts leading to an alternate plane of existence; one unbound by our universe's laws of physics."

Hoshi felt her jaw drop. "Wha..." Tucker sputtered.

"The Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that interdimensional travel is unachievable with the technologies currently available," T'Pol stated. "I find it unlikely that these humans accomplished such a feat."

"Well, they managed to convince everyone back on Earth," Archer countered, "including the Vulcan Consulate. I guess the Science Directorate will have to amend that part of their textbooks."

Putting the conversation back on track, Archer said, "Starfleet doesn't know how many more of the UNSC's ships are out there." UNSC, Hoshi thought. I think the old UN Security Council used that acronym, back in the day. Perhaps it stands for something similar? "What's more, it is possible that their enemies, a hostile alliance of alien species that call themselves 'the Covenant,' could also be out there." Archer grimaced. "Allegedly, these aliens have perpetrated a decades-long campaign of genocide against the UNSC."

Hoshi's blood froze in her veins. Exclamations of horror—from Phlox—and outrage—from Tucker and Reed—broke the shocked silence.

"If we encounter any UNSC ships," Archer continued, "we are to direct them towards Earth. If we encounter any of their enemies—this Covenant—we are to withdraw from the area at maximum warp on a random course away from any human settlements and report their location to Starfleet Command."

"Wait," Tucker protested, "They want us to run away from these sons of bitches?!"

"Most of their ships dwarf Vulcan cruisers and have enough firepower to burn a planet's surface to glass, Trip." Hoshi felt the blood drain from her face at the mere thought of going up against just one of the monsters Archer described. "Enterprise wouldn't last a minute. I don't like it either, but taking the fight to them is beyond our ability. The best we can do for now is report the locations of any Covenant ships we encounter."

"Has Columbia been informed, as well?" Reed inquired. Hoshi recognized the tone he was using, despite only having heard it a handful of times before. It always appeared when the Enterprise or an away team was in a combat situation.

Archer nodded. "Captain Robinson is being informed of the situation as we speak. He'll likely be talking with his people soon. Speaking of talking," he looked each assembled department head and watch officer in the eye, "Admiral Schrieber made it clear that none of this is supposed to leave this room. The government wants to keep this situation as quiet as possible for as long as possible."

"I think it's a little late for that, Captain," Tucker commented. "Ships popping in out of nowhere in full view of traffic hubs? Deneva knows. Everyone back home knows. Vulcan probably knows."

"Neither Earth nor Vulcan would murder those ships' crews to take their FTL tech," Archer pointed out. "But what about the Klingons? Or the Suliban?"

As Tucker's features shifted to express understanding, Archer continued. "This technology could revolutionize warfare—enable militaries to conduct surprise attacks that wouldn't be possible with warp drives. Instead of sensors detecting them light-years from their target, a hostile force could use slipspace to launch an attack with only a few seconds' notice. I don't think I have to tell you how bad that would be—for Earth, for Vuclan, for Denobula." He stared down each officer, human and alien, as he spoke. "The longer we can keep them and others like them in the dark, the more time we'll have to find any UNSC ships that might still be out there and point them in the direction of their friends."

"Not to mention, Earth will have more time to bargain for this 'slipspace' technology," T'Pol observed.

"I'm sure Soval will be right alongside us in that effort."

I—I—A

Vulcan
Headquarters of the Vulcan High Command
[December 21, 2152]

The headline read: "Draylax IV tragedy a result of ill-fated weapons test," DDF officials say.

A photograph of a ravaged Draylaxian patrol ship, taken by a passing ECS freighter, accompanied the title of the human news article. The wounded military vessel was flanked by a pair of its sister ships and an auxiliary barge. Much of the patrol ship's remaining forward hull was scorched and flaring outward, the result of a live torpedo detonating within its launch tube and sparking a catastrophic chain reaction.

Allegedly, the Draylaxian ship was testing a new torpedo launch system at the time of the disaster. Vulcan Intelligence agents in the Draylax system had noted some escalated activity in the felinid aliens' research and development agencies in recent months, but there were some doubts as to the honesty of the Draylaxian government's claims.

None of that was a priority in the administrator's mind, however. Skimming across the home page of one of Earth's many news services, V'Las searched for the latest articles on the behemoth starship that had appeared in the Sol system three days prior. Since Vulcan Intelligence had brought the event to his attention, he had scoured human media outlets for every scrap of information pertaining to the "Spirit of Fire" in addition to reading intelligence reports and Ambassador Soval's updates.

The ship was crewed by a previously unknown human faction. It was armed with numerous calibers of kinetic energy weapons—coilguns, specifically—and dozens of anti-ship missile pods. The missiles weren't much more powerful than the spatial torpedoes Starfleet ships currently fielded, but the larger coilguns could conceivably break primitive energy shields.

Especially the three massive barrels affixed to the Spirit of Fire's bow. If V'Las was honest with himself, those three weapons firing in sequence might be enough to overwhelm even Vulcan shields.

Judging by Soval's report of the tour the ship's captain and science officer had led, the Spirit of Fire appeared to be a troopship of some kind. Ordinarily, V'Las would wonder what kind of transport ship would need that much firepower; having read the sections of the ambassador's reports pertaining to "the Covenant," he elected to forego such musings.

He had been skeptical of the claims of a new method of faster-than-light travel—doubly so Captain Cutter's claims of hailing from another universe. But the Spirit of Fire's test flight from Jupiter to the outer reaches of the Sol system proved his doubts about the former wrong and lent some credibility to the latter.

And so, V'Las had prepared orders for both Ambassador Soval and Vulcan Intelligence agents stationed on Earth: acquire the knowledge necessary to construct slipspace drives by any means necessary.

He was halfway through an inane article babbling about "the bright future the Spirit of Fire heralds" when his mid-morning appointment arrived. He was taking a bit of a risk, meeting his contact so openly, but this was something his counterparts on Romulus needed to know about as soon as possible. If anyone questioned it, he had several stories prepared to ease suspicions.

The door connecting his office to the waiting room chimed, and V'Las called out, "Enter." His secretary/bodyguard wouldn't allow someone to approach without alerting him if they didn't have an appointment.

The barrier slid open, and Major Talok, ostensibly of the Security Directorate, crossed the threshold.

"Administrator," the disguised Romulan greeted, standing at rigid attention.

"Take a seat, Major." The door slid shut behind Talok as the officer took the proffered seat. V'Las tapped a hidden button underneath his desk, and the room promptly became what humans would call a "SCIF." Humanity's love of acronyms was a fascination of his, not that he would ever admit it. Vulcan society frowned upon shortcuts and informality, real or perceived, even when it increased efficiency. Quite illogical, in his mind.

"You have heard of the situation in the human's home system?" V'Las inquired bluntly.

"I have heard rumors of massive ships and a new human polity. Am I to understand that they are true?"

"There are at least two ships, and they claim to be from another universe, of all things." Talok momentarily broke character at the latter part of that statement, a look of bewildered amusement flashing across his features before they returned to a stoic mask of indifference.

"Really?" The Romulan spy lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

"Whether they're telling the truth, lying or delusional is ultimately irrelevant, considering that they have revealed to us a new FTL system—one that could revolutionize interstellar travel and conflict for all time." V'Las slid a data storage module across the desk to Talok. "This contains everything the High Command knows about this 'UNSC' so far. I imagine the Tal Shiar will be very interested in its contents."

Talok gingerly grasped the data chip, as if it were a priceless glass ornament or venomous serpent that could strike at any moment. "How revolutionary could this new drive be?" he asked.

V'Las smirked. "Theoretically, it could make any warp drive—past, present and future—obsolete."

I—I—A

Kappa Fornacis system
UNSC Toulouse
December 22, 2152

When Commander Cynthia de Winter became captain of the Halcyon-class cruiser Toulouse, her inherited command was in a nightmarish situation. The Outer Colony of Jericho VII had been overrun by the Covenant three weeks prior, the alien hegemony glassing the surface of the planet as surviving UNSC forces scattered, ferrying as many soldiers and civilians away from the massacre as possible.

Unfortunately for the Toulouse, a squadron of CCS-class battlecruisers had tracked the cruiser's slipspace trajectory, following them to their exit point light-years away. A game of cat and mouse had ensued once the UNSC cruiser had exited slipspace, the kilometer-long warship evading its larger pursuers throughout the asteroid-rich star system that had become their playing field. Eventually, the chase led them all to a planet-sized Dyson sphere.

When the massive construct swallowed the Toulouse and her pursuers, Cynthia had thought it was all over. Like many of the bridge crew, she had thought that they had stumbled across a Covenant stronghold or superweapon. To their surprise, the structures found within the Dyson sphere, though alien in origin, proved to be nothing like the familiar, dreaded purple curves the Covenant preferred. Everything was angular, silvery in color with blue highlights. The humans had little time to appreciate the alien wonders before them, though, as their pursuers soon resumed their attack.

By the time the... Event happened, the Toulouse had destroyed one CCS-class and damaged two others. The UNSC warship itself hadn't emerged unscathed, however—one of the Toulouse's three reactors was knocked out, crippling the ship's MAC gun and propulsion systems by extension; half of the secondary batteries and several point-defense guns were gone, and the ship's missile stores were severely depleted; there were several hull breaches and fires throughout the ship, and several dozen crew and passengers were killed during the fighting, including Captain Silas.

Just when it seemed that the jig was up, the cruiser trapped between the four surviving Covenant battlecruisers—two intact, two wounded—Cynthia gave the desperate order to activate the slipspace drive.

In-atmosphere FTL jumps were unheard of, planetary gravity wells usually collapsing human-made slipspace portals. But the Toulouse was trapped, and Cynthia knew that if the maneuver failed, their fate would be no different than if she had decided to make a final stand against the Covenant.

Then, as the slipspace portal opened, a painful flash of light engulfed the UNSC cruiser, rendering everyone aboard unconscious.

Once the surviving crew and civilians came to, the former quickly searched the surrounding area for any sign of the Covenant. No trace of the alien warships was found. Scans would reveal that they were in another star system entirely, and that there was a habitable world nearby—one that turned out to have been colonized by humans!

Once they had managed to establish contact with each other, Cynthia quickly accepted the colonists' offer of aid. Their orbital station's limited medical facilities were opened to the cruiser's crew and passengers, the staff quickly overwhelmed by a deluge of patients with burns, broken bones and lacerations. Damage control teams from the small outpost brought relief to the Toulouse's own beleaguered personnel, putting out fires and patching the hull in non-critical locations while the UNSC crewmen focused on saving the restricted areas of the ship.

Eventually, the DAMCON teams had succeeded in suppressing the fires and patching the worst gaps in Toulouse's hull, prompting Cynthia to halt the hasty evacuation she had ordered. She had wanted as many people out of harm's way as possible—especially the civilians—in case the fires had spread to a missile pod and cooked off the ordnance stored there or one of the reactors had gone critical.

Once the fires were out and the surviving reactors confirmed as being stable, Toulouse limped towards Deneva Station, docking with the much smaller construct. As order was gradually imposed upon the chaos generated by the previous battle and emergency slipspace jump, she made sure to commend thedamage control teams' bravery and dedication in the ship's log—both the Toulouse's own teams and those of the local colonists.

While the cruiser was no longer in danger of blowing up on her, Cynthia's troubles were only just beginning. An undocumented colony, she could've handled; research papers had theorized for some time that hundreds of unsanctioned settlements had been established on numerous Outer Colony worlds. It wasn't a stretch to believe that some disgruntled colonists, fed up with the Earth-based government, decided to strike out for uncharted space and look for a new world to call home, far away from the homeworld's shadow.

However, the colony's leaders claimed to have a direct line to Earth, and that it would only take a day or so for a transmission to reach them. And that was simply impossible. Only a settlement within Sol's outer reaches would have such a delay in their communications with the homeworld of mankind, and Deneva was by all accounts a naturally habitable world, not a frozen ball of ice or terraformed Mars.

It was when she questioned this that the bombshell was dropped. According to the colonists, Deneva was located in the Kappa Fornacis system, and was settled two years prior in 2150.

Cynthia had reeled when she learned this. Was this really happening? Had the Toulouse actually ended up in some kind of alternate timeline? Or was this an elaborate Insurrectionist trick? Or could these people be referring to some other planet which they happened to call Earth?

Four days after arriving in the Kappa Fornacis system, she had a definitive answer. It came in the form of a video message from Captain James Cutter of the UNSC Spirit of Fire, a converted colony ship that had gone missing during the Battle of Arcadia. Said message had been relayed to the Toulouse via an exploration agency/paramilitary force known as Starfleet, using Deneva Colony as an intermediary.

Succinctly put, Cutter confirmed that both UNSC ships were in an alternate timeline—or universe, as he called it. The message informed her that their human counterparts were allied or had friendly relations with a number of alien races, chief among these being the Vulcans of 40 Eridani.

Cutter went on to order her to make for the Sol system, giving a very rough ETA of seven weeks, as calculated by the Spirit of Fire's AI. Cutter further explained that he would be negotiating for repairs and resupply with United Earth, likely bartering some technologies or services to offset the costs.

The message ended with Cutter advising her to be vigilant for fellow UNSC ships, as well as Insurrectionist and Covenant forces. Cynthia's mind swirled under the deluge of information she had just learned. She pressed her stunned features into the palms of her hands, fighting the urge to scream.

Why her? Why was she the one who had to handle this unprecedented situation? Why did she have to be the one responsible for the fates of the men, women and children aboard Toulouse?

Somehow, despite having run the ship in Captain Silas' name during her stint as the cruiser's executive officer, becoming her captain had dropped a planet's-worth of weight onto her shoulders.

Was this how the captain had felt during their flight from Jericho VII? Had he felt like the universe was crushing him as he struggled to keep his ship and charges alive during the battle in and around the Dyson sphere?

Cynthia briefly entertained the idea of defying Cutter's orders. He might have held the superior rank, but for all they knew, Spirit of Fire and Toulouse were all that was left of the UNSC. Perhaps her crew and the civvies should simply settle on the surface, rather than risk encountering another calamitous anomaly like the one that had brought them here. What was Cutter going do if they did? Fly out here and bomb them into submission? How did that work out for the UNSC against the Insurrection?

It was nothing more than a fleeting fantasy, though—the product of a hysterical mind struggling to cope with the pressures of a military command being thrust upon her, destitute refugees depending upon her for protection, and the utterly insane predicament they'd all found themselves in.

Taking a series of deep, calming breaths, the commander restored order within her mind, just as she restored order after arriving in this universe.

Cynthia de Winter was a loyal soldier, a legacy of countless generations of men and women who had fought, bled and died for their nations, from the earliest Anglo kingdoms to the Unified Earth Government. She would follow her orders and fulfill her duties as an officer of the United Nations Space Command to the bitter end.

So help me, God.

Crossposted on Space Battles For ums.