Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to my Halo - MechWarrior/BattleTech crossover.

Thank you all for your wonderful patience and support. I deeply appreciate it.

Here we are, the start of a long chain of events. Who knows what will happen now with the SLDF's involvement?

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As always, leave a review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo or MechWarrior/BattleTech franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Studios, 343 Industries, Bungie, FASA Corporation, FASA Interactive, Catalyst Game Labs, WhizKids, Piranha Games Inc., etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artists.

BattleTech OST - Uncertain Crossroads

Soell III

Director-General's Office, Harmony Building

January 17th, 2525, 0900 Hrs (May 21st, 2793, 0900 Hrs)

Director-General Torrance was in a fairly good mood. Economy is booming, and we've got a trickle of immigrants from some of the Outer Colonies, he thought. Aside from the Innie threat, things are looking up.

That thought led to another. Checking his schedule, he smiled, then worked on his computer. He activated a hidden button under his desk. There was a quiet humming, then the room went silent.

A new window appeared on the monitor. On it, Nicholas could be seen, head bent down in focus on his work. Looking up, he smiled, "Director General. Right on schedule. I take it you want a progress report on my operation?"

"Yes," Torrance said. "Secure?"

Nicholas nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Status?"

"Slow but steady," Nicholas said. "FURLOUGH is on schedule, second stage attained. Five inserted, fifteen coming after. ONI's been helpful in that."

"New intelligence?"

"None yet. URF flush ops are too good. Current projections give us eight to eleven years till we find Colonel Watts. Minor and emergency depot locations to come by year's end."

"Keep working on it. Luck favors the prepared." He checked the time. "Inform me of any developments."

"Yes sir," Nicholas said. "There is one other thing, sir."

"And that might be?"

"I've assigned two of our Blackhearts to Epsilon Indi on ONI's request for local support and security. One Lieutenant Jilan Al-Cygni will be assessing the system for possible rebel transits and sabotage of the world's agriculture control systems."

Torrance frowned. "That may affect our own supply from there. Hmm, keep me updated on the operation."

"Yes, sir. Have a pleasant day." Kerensky ended as he signed off.

Nothing big yet it seems, he thought. His phone beeped, showing an incoming call. "Yes?" he asked.

"Sir, your two o'clock is here," his Secretary Informed.

"Send him in." he answered, ending the call.

The door opened to permit General Kerensky inside. "General," Torrance greeted, "to what do I owe this visit?"

"Naval matters," Kerensky said.

Torrance made a quick scan of his datapad screen. "Nearly 30% of our ships have been refitted." He read. "What about our ground forces?"

"Chalybs and Hannibal got the contract. They're interested in our 'Mechs. I've got DeChavilier managing that end of things."

"Very good. Any progress on our unconventional responses?"

Kerensky nodded. "I've ordered the hardening of all our communication lines, as well as extra escorts on any civilian freighters heading to other systems. The UNSC approved of the extra security; I guess it leaves them less to worry about. The stations and spaceports handling shipping have had their checkpoint security upped. That should catch any Insurrectionists before they get to our colonies."

"Excellent," Torrance said. "That said, I've got a question for you?"

"And that might be?"

"Do you have a successor in mind?"

Kerensky frowned slightly. "I'm monitoring my sons' progress to that end."

"Good." Torrance stood, then checked the time. "About time for my morning jog. We'll go over the rest tonight."

"Of course."

. . .

Light years away, Sergeants Johnson and Byrne sat in the cargo hold of the freighter Bulk Discount. It had been some time since they'd arrived at their current position and the two men had found little of anything to pass the time. So they sat, waiting for anything that would break the monotony.

Johnson glanced at the two others in the room. Clad in matte black Nighthawk Power Armor were two members of the SLDF's Blackhearts Special Operations Group. Tired of the monotony, he glanced at one. "Done anything like this before?"

The man named Richard, glanced at Johnson. "Something like that. Prinz Eugen Mutiny, about a decade ago."

"I heard a little about that," Byrne said. "Mostly rumors and scuttlebutt, but mainly from some of our officers that talked with the civvies."

"Don't trust everything the civvies say," Richard said. "However, they're right in this case. What did you hear?"

"Mostly that it all went down when some officers tried to head back to where y'all came from. That about right?"

"Partially," Richard said. "The crew of the Prinz Eugen mutinied and tried to drag a few other ships with them back to the Inner Sphere. That risked the fleet's safety, so the General sent us in to take back the ship. All those involved in the mutiny were executed by the General's son, Andery."

Byrne nodded. "Good to hear. That kind of shit shouldn't be tolerated."

Any further conversation was halted by a repeating beep in their heads. Another ship. Johnson thought. Running through final checks, the group waited.

Richard glanced upwards. "If gravity fails, we can move to the ceiling. The support girders up there will provide better cover."

"Got it," Johnson said. His mind drifted back to the circumstances that led him and Byrne here. Seven months ago, Insurrectionists destroyed the cruise liner National Holiday. then programmed a looped message they'd sent over two years prior with the failed destruction of AS-9 and the SLDF WarShip Sevastapol. Many people were afraid that the Innies could strike anywhere, even Sol if they so wished.

As such, the UNSC doubled down on ONI to be more proactive in this. If only they doubled down earlier, Johnson thought. His mind flashed back to the failed op at Tribute. He banished the memories, pushed the image of the bombed-out restaurant out of his mind. "Remember the briefing," he told the others. "If they attack, take them out from a distance. Understood?"

"Understood," the others said.

No sooner had they said that than Johnson felt an odd shift. The next thing he knew, the telltale click of mag-boots engaging reached his ears. "Gravity lost," Edwards informed. "Moving up."

"Copy that," Byrne said. Quickly moving to the ceiling, the team surveyed the ground below them.

As soon as they reached their position, parts of the walls began glowing a dull red, melting away into space behind them, leaving the room as a hard vacuum. Johnson thanked al-Cygni's decision to issue them armored vacuum suits.

Richard frowned. "High yield naval lasers. Innies don't have them."

"Now they do!" Byrne exclaimed.

"Contact!" Edward shouted over TEAMCOM. Following his rifle's pointed direction, Johnson spotted the glowing tip of some kind of boring device.

"Fan out!" Johnson hissed. All did so, weapons trained on the glowing cutter.

The cutter retracted, a large tube of some kind replacing it at the opening. Johnson frowned. Rebels either got new gear or this is no Innie attack, he pondered.

What came through next answered his thoughts.

A large, lizard-like creature entered the cargo hold. Even from a distance, Johnson could see the inhuman legs and body shape. Beneath the creature's visor was a large, avian face, lacking feathers.

The creature was joined by three more of similar appearance, and a final fourth in ornate blue armor that marked it out as the potential leader. Johnson frowned. This was not what they were expecting. He raised a finger to his helmet. "Ma'am. We've got hostiles in the hold."

"Take them out," was al-Cygni's curt reply.

Johnson frowned. "They aren't Innies."

"Clarify."

Avery took a deep breath. "They're aliens, ma'am." He watched as the first three creatures struggled in their way towards hand- and footholds, their large, bony beaks and large, bloodshot eyes partially visible through their clear helmets. "Like lizards without tails."

There was a pause as Cygni, holding station in the Walk of Shame 200 klicks away, considered his words. "Ma'am, I need orders." Avery pushed.

"Capture one alive," al-Cygni ordered, "The rest are hostiles pirating a UEG freighter. Dispose of them with full prejudice, Sergeant. None should escape."

"Understood ma'am," Johnson affirmed. He glanced at Byrne, who was with Edward. "Byrne, Richy, spare one. Leader's mine." He motioned to the alien in ornate armor. It held a C-shaped, silver object with an emerald glowing light between the pronged tips, likely a weapon.

"Copy," Byrne said.

Rifle in hand, Johnson lined up his sight to the alien. It had turned around, moving back into the tube. Alien in his scope, he squeezed his trigger.

. . .

On the other side of the cargo hold Chur'R-Yar rattled her teeth in annoyance at the lack of gravity. One of their ship's shots had destroyed the recently confirmed gravity generators on the alien ship. The rattling increased as she watched Zhar and the others struggle to gain footing on the ship's grooved floor. Her crewmates had been overly eager to view their latest haul; now they scrambled like fools in the mocking red glow of the hold's emergency lights.

"Calm yourselves!" she chided herself. Once she'd secured herself to one of the umbilical's protruding clamps, she continued, "Move towards the boxes!"

She took a moment to examine the packed hold, carrying less boxes than the last transport had. Though there was less to inspect, it would still take time to search through them without artificial gravity. I'll ask the stupid Deacon to get the Huragok to fix it, she reasoned, then turned to go do exactly that.

Just as she reached the umbilical, Chur'R-Yar felt something hit the back of her neck, as though someone had slapped her hard, then blazing hot pain tore through her. She let out a choked, pained screech as she tumbled forwards, face-planting on the floor, into the safety of her ship, and within arms-reach of an emergency breathing unit. Her vision blurred as she shot to her feet, howling in agony as the now melted portion of her vacuum suit burned her leathery hide.

It was Zhar that saw what had happened. He'd just started to move towards one of the boxes when a brilliant red-white beam of light struck Chur'R-Yar's neck. He threw himself into cover, barely avoiding another beam that shot past his crate. Whoever was firing had them in their sights. Taking a risk, he peaked over the edge of the crate he was hiding behind.

Another beam shot out within a hair's width of his visor. Despite the temporary blindness, Zhar saw who their assailants were. Four individuals stood on the ceiling, each with a weapon. Two of them wore what appeared to be combat harnesses.

Ducking again, Zhar turned to the others. "Move along the walls, hide by the crates!" he shouted over the comm, marking the assailants' positions over the shared proselytization network. The others nodded, doing their best to avoid further notice.

On the other side of the exchange, Johnson snarled as his shot clipped the back of the lead alien's neck. Damn! he snarled at the evidently non-lethal effect.

"Incoming!" Byrne alerted, firing his own laser rifle, missing his target as the remaining aliens threw themselves behind cover.

"They're moving between the crates! Prep for CQC!" Richard exclaimed, as his jump jets sputtered.

Johnson pivoted just in time to face three rising aliens six meters away, at his five o'clock. He fired at the lead one; a large creature with fleshy red spines visible through its faceplate. It drifted away, dead, with a hole in its center.

The other two slammed into him, one revealing a long, magenta-glowing blade, aiming for a thrust to his face. Turning to his side to keep the first alien between him and the second, Avery raised his M96, parrying the blade, twisting it down along with the alien's arm. Realizing its overthrust and downward spin, the alien released the saber. Arm coming back to draw out a second weapon, a mistake it didn't live to regret.

Avery quickly caught the long saber, letting go of his ruined rifle all the while, as the alien attempted to halt its spin and right itself. Johnson didn't give it the courtesy of facing him as he plunged the blade into the alien's back, making to snatch the odd weapon in the alien's hand, while avoiding the purple crystals spiking out of it. He could see the alien's livid scream as it writhed.

Turning to the second target, Avery saw the barrel of a similar weapon aimed at his face, along with a maniacal smile plaguing the alien's face, that he could swear. Well ain't that a problem he snarled, the avian creature rooted to the ceiling as he was.

Before it could fire it's weapon, Richard, who drifted below the creature, grabbed the alien, tearing it from the ceiling. H took a stab at the avian being's back with his vibro blade, then a second stab through its visor. "Thanks!" Johnson called out.

"Byrne needs help!" Richard shouted.

Nearby, Byrne contended with the final alien, purple blade in hand, trying desperately to avoid its spinal spikes and clawed arms, both without guns. A gash on his thigh showing where he dodged a stab earlier.

An instant later, Edward's shot rang from a far corner of the room, spearing Byrne's contender through its left arm. A following shot burned a hole through the creature's remaining arm, giving Byrne the room he needed to bang the avian's head against the wall several times 'till it stopped moving. Hope it's passed out he thought.

"Ow! What the hell?!" he cursed as he released the blazing hot blade hilt he held, now glowing deep red. Realizing what it could mean, he drifted along the wall to a heavy equipment-marked crate to hide behind. Seconds later, he heard a detonation, followed by a second one from Johnson's direction.

Rising from his cover once the shards had passed, Byrne spotted Johnson drifting over to him. "You all right?" Avery asked.

Byrne winced as his adrenaline wore off and the pain of a cut by a plasma weapon returned in full force. "I'm OK." He answered. "Gonna stake it here, go see if there's more of these birds in there." He added.

Johnson frowned slightly, then turned to one of the Blackhearts. "Stay with him. Black 3, with me."

"Yes sir," Edward and Richard responded.

"Marines," Jilan said over comm. "You've got ten mikes."

"Aye ma'am." Johnson responded. Halting his spiral, he wondered if Walk Of Shame's archer would be enough to destroy the tug if it came down to it. He and Richard drifted off towards the umbilical. Grabbing onto wall crevices, they advanced inside. His boots' auto-click told Johnson that gravity was present. "Got AG here," he told Richard.

"Copy," Richard said. He checked his COM. "COMs are down. Eight minutes."

Past the umbilical was a short corridor that led to a larger split hallway. Avery gestured right, as he proceeded left. He quickly moved through the hallway. Every five meters, he could see doors.

His COM crackled. "Black 3. Got two more aliens: different species looks like, one's a Huragok."

Johnson frowned. "Confirm and assess hostility?"

"Confirmed sir. Huragok present, negative hostility. Other one just made a break, pursuing."

"Understood." Closing the COM, Johnson proceeded towards what he thought was the bow of the ship. So far, there were no other aliens. Where are they? He wondered. He spotted a flash of movement to his left. As he leapt across the corridor to one of the doorways, green bolts whipped past him. "I've been engaged!"

"Copy!" Edward answered. "Three and four coming. Hang in there!"

"Copy!" Johnson exclaimed. Shit! Can't get a clear shot!

Edward turned the corner behind him and began firing back at the hostiles.

. . .

Chur'R-Yar howled in agony as she reached for a medical kit in a hidden alcove. Pulling out a curved device, she jammed one end of it against her neck and pressed a rune. She sighed as the pain immediately faded, replaced with a cool, soothing sensation.

Looking down at her suit, she saw the black gash where the back of the neck was. Using the device to view her wound, she saw a long, ugly gash. The skin along the edge was charred, the inside was an angry purple color.

Turning down a corridor, she ran into the bridge. From here, she could disconnect the umbilical and throttle the engines – escape before any of her attackers came onboard.

The bridge was filled with the foul odor of the Huragok's gaseous emissions. The circuits connecting the onboard Luminary to the Minor Transgression's navigation system had been repaired. Which meant that a report was currently being transmitted to the Ministry of Tranquility.

She hissed. "Deacon. Traitor." At first, she felt a pang of sadness, then all consuming rage filled her mind.

Activating internal sensors, she located the placed tracker in the deacon's vacuum unit in his room. Escape pod, she realized. In her distraction, she didn't notice the black figure aiming at her from the bridge walkway.

Her left arm suddenly fell to the floor. Reacting too late, her vision blurred as she was tackled to the ground. Darkness claimed her, with a sudden kick to the side of her face.

. . .

Johnson observed the unconscious alien before him as Edward bound its legs and upper arms. "One alive, the other got shredded by the exploding sword." he remarked. "Black-2, status?" came Richard's voice on comm.

"All clear. Got the lead alien, what looks like it at least. You?" Edward asked.

"Got the runner," Richard said. "Tried getting in what looks like an escape pod. We're extracting. Leave the ship for the glasses. We got three mikes."

"Roger." He looked at Johnson. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Johnson said as Edward hauled their target onto his shoulder. The two proceeded back to the freighter.

Arriving back on their ship, Johnson saw Richard behind him, dragging a loud, squealing alien by its hooves? Feet? Avery couldn't say but they were lower limbs, that much he was sure.

The incessant squealing grated on his ears. Richard glanced at him. "Would you?"

"Certainly," Johnson answered, knocking the alien out with his rifle's butt. He keyed his COM "Dreamhouse, this is Black 1, mission success. Send a ride."

"Acknowledged. Good work," Jilani replied.

"Byrne?" Johnson asked.

"Here," Byrne said. "Gonna need some stitches and a check-up."

We'll get that soon enough," Edward said. "First contact huh, never would have thought it'd happen this way."

Johnson smiled. "Well we'll find out soon enough if our media's been blowing its ass off for the past six centuries." He smirked slightly. "Are these aliens the seductive ones, or the conquering imperial ones?"

"I doubt they're the first given their looks," Richard said.

Johnson nodded, having no idea how close he was to the mark.