Halo - So Say We All

by SpaceCowboy2013

It started with the Pillar of Autumn initiating contact between lost branches of humanity. And ended with branches of humanity fighting together on a dying Battlestar. Will the Colonies survive a threat that puts the Cylons to shame? Can two cultures avoid fighting each other and unite to survive a war greater than any struggle humanity has ever faced?

Prologue

Halo: So Say We All

Soell Star System

December 3rd, 2552 AD

39 Years Post Cylon War Armistice and Signing of the Articles of Colonization

Jupiter Class Battlestar – Designation: BS-75

Battlestar Galactica

In the vast cold expanse of vacuum, a shimmering tear in spacetime folded in on itself, opening what scientists on Earth in the past referred to as an Einstein Rosen bridge – two small slivers of trans dimensional space time were brought together and connected.

A short lived portal between two regions separated by a huge amount of light years became one.

And through it a 1400-meter-long behemoth of armor, weapons, layered defense guns, sensers, and nuclear pulse drives flashed through.

Appearing in an instant, a forty-year-old warship traversed its way into realspace using its six main drives that pushed the leviathan through space as its DRADIS sensers switched to life, scanning the system and space in its local area as optical telescopes searched out the expanse beyond.

Sweeping for planets, navigational hazards, stellar phenomena….

…And signs of the enemy.

The warship pushed on – shuddering briefly as its pockmarked and scorched armor belt shone against the backdrop of the white light the systems main sequence star reflected off the hull. Damage that included a starboard flight pod almost open to space in parts and multiple dorsal main batteries reduced to slag.

The system's star was like a spotlight to the trial that the crew had been through as the warship – known by her builders as a Battlestar - became a hive of internal activity as her human crews raced to prepare for anything.

And hoping that they did not jump from one hell right into another.

"Jump complete!" Junior Lieutenant Felix Gaeta shouted out at the crew shuddered and found their footing as artificial gravity plates – aged and worn from years of service and recent fights for the very ship's life – briefly pulsed to over 1.2 gs before settling back to normal gravity.

Shouting of status reports and checked procedures became a cacophony of organized chaos that echoed within the confines of the Combat Information Center – buried at the most centralized point of the warship under decks and meters of armor within the "head" of the Galactica's alligator shaped forward section.

Dull white lighting lit the cavern of displays and command stations, each arranged in a descending level wrapping around the CIC - surrounding the central tactical station board with the helmsman's stations towards the bow furthest from the main entrance to the CIC.

To an untrained civilian onlooker unfamiliar with military hardware the scene looked more like an underground command bunker than a space going warship – with only the large display screens above and towards the front of the cavernous command center showing exterior views that dispelled that notion.

Adama clenched his first as he grimaced – looking around the CIC as his trained and weary crew raced about their duties with drilled – and now tested – professionalism that made him proud.

Proud that they had managed to go through months of events that shattered preconceived notions about the greatest questions humanity had long yearned answers for.

And they had gone through a kind of hell that had pushed them all – all of their loved ones and comrades and all they had ever known – to the brink of annihilation.

Adama turned to a pedestal on his left – standing up to waist height and positioned haphazardly between the helmsman's station and the main tactical board at the center of the Old Battlestar's CIC.

It was a piece of technology quickly hacked together with the Galactica's primary systems in a jury-rigged method that were it not for the situation would have gotten crew members scolded for how not up to Colonial Fleet code it was.

Conduits and power adapters stuck in and out of the device and spliced into the primary threat computers at the back of the CIC like some sort of junkyard holiday display. It also included a hacked together mess of cables miles long that connected the Galactica's non- networked computer systems and made them one throughout the battered warship.

Something that not even a year ago Adama and about half of the Colonial fleet would have never allowed….were it not for the present situation.

And it was quite obviously NOT of Colonial design.

Hell it wouldn't be confused with one of our tech devices until long after I am dead… Adama thought to himself.

The top of the mechanical pedestal flashed with light – and a now increasingly familiar figure came into existence – a figure that he still had to remind a part of himself – was not an entity that meant him and his crew harm.

Not that the "other" now unofficial new crew that Galactica had taken on had any fears of.

"Cortana, all I need to know is – did we lose them?" Admiral William Adama spoke, furrowing his brow as Colonel Saul Tigh, his XO, limped to stand next to him. His broken leg in one of those miraculous casts that had been provided to him by their "guests" that was helping the man recover in at most a tenth of the time it would have taken before.

The figure in the pedestal transitioned into "her" final form – a foot tall holographic woman of blue light and code with short, cropped hair in a bob, with its body bare of clothes yet covered in running code and data that still Adama and his crew had trouble wrapping their minds around.

"I think we all know the answer to that question I am afraid." The UNSC artificial intelligence spoke as the Galactica's primary threat board shifted to show the outlines of 9 planets millions of kilometers away from their present heading.

Adama could see Tigh, Dee and the Colonial crew around him grimace.

They all knew the answer why.

"This wasn't a blind jump." Saul spat, but not with hate, just a matter-of-fact way his personality could manifest as…usually at times such as this where the Ambrosa could be smelled on his XO's breath.

"Frak….as long as he is able to keep it under control…I need to address that drinking asap." The admiral thought as he turned to face the UNSC Artificial Intelligence, keeping an eye on the CIC's entrances as one of Galactica's most prominent non-Colonial crew members would be here any second.

Cortana looked up at Adama as she answered, waiving into existence an outline of the local star zone in much greater detail than the ship's own threat boards could display.

Was it concern? Worrying – mere thoughts of analysis that flashed through the AI constructs mind? Adam thought to himself as his eyes briefly connected with "hers". He knew that her very nature meant "she" had feelings and some version of emotions that he could not comprehend.

But he knew enough about people that he could see concern when he saw it.

The AI quickly flashed back into another position as she was no doubt running hundreds of calculations per second.

"Correct – we knew the Covenant would likely be here when we found these coordinates and the…artifact they had recovered. Making a jump from where we did nearly broke this ship's spine on top of the battle damage it suffered. And with the limits of Colonial ship systems, especially with the…analog – nature of the Galactica."

Though Adama and the crew could hardly notice it – they were aware at this point that the AI and all the Earthers were using translation tech to speak standard Caprican in real time to the point that they could hardly notice a difference.

"That emergency jump really did a number on us – not to mention we all were nearly overrun by their boarding parties that just had the last of them taken care of by our new friends." Tigh noted as Junior Lieutenant Anastasia Dualla looked up from her station.

"The Master Chief and Sergeant Johnson is reporting that the last of the Covenant were eliminated – the Chief is on his way."

Adama nodded and turned to Gaeta, "Tell our marines to re-arm and get ready for anything, we can't let the Earthers do all the heavy lifting. And get whatever we have left of our fighters ready to launch with what we can cobble together."

The wireless crackled to life as Starbuck's exasperated voice came through…it had been at least two days of constant struggle and the flight crews were no doubt running to man their positions and the remaining Vipers that Galactica had left.

"Getting to the nearest available Vipers now sir! Estimate we can get a dozen of us in the tubes and ready to fight."

Frak - the Colonials and Adama winced.

If there was a Covenant Seraph wing, or Gods forbid a Covenant capital in engagement range – they would have only seconds to launch and react.

"Cortana, Gaeta…do we know where in the hell we are at?" he asked.

"Preliminary DRADIS scan complete" Gaeta replied as Cortana's avatar disappeared and expanded to show a holographic projection of the star system.

The Galactica's main consol was doing its best to show a two dimensional representation that it could, and Adama barely paid it heed as he watched the AI show the current star system in much greater detail than the old girl's systems ever could.

A representation of the system swirled into existence showing icons of one primary main sequence star, 9 planetary bodies and 1 asteroid belt.

"We have a standard nine planetary system – with four outer planets and four inner planets." Cortana summarized as a red icon of the Galactica was highlighted near the 6th planet in the system.

"We are approximately 2.1 million kilometers from the 6th planet – the largest – a gas giant that our sensors are picking up is orbited by 12 satellites. But it is the 11th satellite that I am awaiting more details on as it is…intriguing to say the least." The AI noted as the viewer morphed to focus on the swirling gases of a standard unimpressive gas giant that looked no different than Zeus from Adama's home system of Helios Alpha – one of the four primary star zones that the 12 Colonies of Man had settled several thousand years prior.

"She is right." Gaeta chimed in as he walked towards the three holding a datapad no doubt borrowed from UNSC Marines that he – and most of the crew – were acclimating themselves to quickly.

"Our sensors are still filtering through the data and optical scopes should have better resolution shortly- but that satellite's DRADIS returns alone …..are like nothing I have seen before."

"Artificial" – Cortana nodded as Adama and Tigh both turned with raised eyebrows.

Before they could get a word in the doors as the rear of the CIC opened with a hiss and heavy footfalls that could only be one individual on the ship echoed.

The man had likely just finished wiping bright colored Covenant blood and entrails off of his combat armor and equipment – including the intimidating assault weapon that was magnetically attached to his back.

Adama and the crew turned – many still with wide eyes as a 7 ft plus tall UNSC Super soldier strode into the CIC.

Light reflected off the dull green armor that covered the solider from head to toe, with an advanced articulated black armored under suit that Adama knew was lightyears beyond anything the Colonies had produced outside of sci-fi films.

A suit of powered armor powered by a miniature aneutronic fusion reaction that – had the Colonial Guards at the CIC had attempted to stop him – would have all but laughed off the heavy caliber small arms the two Colonial Marines carried.

And that was if the Spartan allowed himself to be hit.

Adama had seen the colossal figure and others of his kind move with such frightening speed bullets and alien plasma weaponry rarely even come close to making contact. The frightening individual capable of moving so fast that at times Adama swore he would appear more like a green blur or multicolored after-image.

And still that even implied the super soldier didn't find and kill his enemy well before they even had a chance.

AI guided full spectrum sensors and active camouflage helped ensure that.

The Colonials had both seen and been on the receiving end of what this one man could do – tiny dents and burn marks were apparent on the man's powered armor that were testament to the battles the man beneath had been through since this nightmare had started.

And Adama knew the man's own personal nightmare had gone on for decades at this point.

Were he not on their side – Adama would have been terrified of the Super Soldier.

At one time he had been.

"Master Chief." Tigh grunted as the behemoth stopped next to the Colonial commanders, dwarfing them by over a foot.

Still looks like an advanced Cylon to me – even if I know the man.

The gold visor turned and nodded to Saul and Adama before snapping off the Earther version of a salute, which Bill and Saul promptly returned. Still bemused that two groups that had not so long ago been hunting one another were now treating each other like comrades.

In the back of his mind Adama knew that with what he had seen of the UNSC and the Chief – it was him and his crew that had been playing the role of prey more than anything.

But now they all were in this together….

Fighting for the survival of your species tended to do that – regardless of branches and bloodlines.

Plasma glassing beams did not care what language or religion you spoke or worshiped if you were human in this galaxy.

"Do we know if this is the high priority Covenant sector they had identified from the artifact discovered on Caprica?" the Master Chief asked Cortana.

The AI's code flashed for a second as she crossed her arms in consternation.

"The coordinates are correct and the current starfield confirms. This sector is still within the Orion arm up spiral 75 light years from the 12 Colonies and only a couple of hundred light years outside of pre-war UNSC space – and also outside of the Covenant invasion corridor to the UNSC Inner Sphere. I was concerned that the unusual nature of our FTL Jump and how close we cut it would throw us off." The AI responded as Bill nodded.

"I mean its not every day you do an emergency jump basically from within an alien battlestation the size of a small moon."

The Chief paused for a brief second as the golden visor nodded and turned once again to the AI as crew around them gave status updates to Saul regarding the latest casualty figures – which no doubt were heavy.

"Is there any way of us knowing if the bomb worked?"

The AI's avatar shook her head.

"Not without jumping back into what would hopefully be a rapidly cooling and expanding ball of gas and debris – and the FTL drives are still spinning down their excess heat and need to recycle. The Galactica won't be making another jump for another six hours minimum – but truthfully, I don't know how many more jumps the Galactica can handle before breaking itself apart – we have to make our next jump count."

Tigh cursed and Adama groaned.

"That was our best tactical option and primary means of surviving. Get Tyrol to give what assessment he can and get an estimate on how many jumps we have left." Bill turned to Felix and ordered, the man nodding and picking up his wireless to try and find the Chief Petty Officer who was no doubt rushing to try and put hundreds of literal and figurative fires out across the mile long warship.

Tigh resolved himself and shook his head.

"I mean you Earthers hit them with the equivalent of a damn star! At point blank! What the hell survives that?"

The Chief seemed to think for a moment – but still not relaxing.

Adama could only imagine the thoughts going through the man's cybernetically and biologically enhanced mind. But he knew that the man beneath the hyper lethal killing machine he wore was a soldier's soldier – having taken command of the Galactica's defense during their near suicidal mission and had saved his, and damn near everyone's lives multiple times over.

That man no doubt was pondering about a dozen different scenarios in his head.

To think that every one of his kind was also paired with a construct similar to Cortana – the term one man army dd not do the Commando justice.

"John, we hit them with one of your Tribe's planet killers. We rammed a planetoid sized mobile battlestation, fired into it – and boarded it, fought off Covenant boarders and hopefully took as many of their ships down with that device as we could. I think we have to have a little faith in times like these that we managed to stop them."

The Spartan barely let the last sentence hang in the air for more than a second before the golden visor turned to bill.

"And we need these coordinates to be valuable enough for us to hit them again so they don't come back again to the Colonies. Or at the very least to buy the Combined Fleet – or what's left of it – time to get as many Colonials into UNSC space as possible and prepare."

The blunt assessment hit Adama and the crew in the gut.

He is not wrong

They were just buying time – there was no way the Colonies could stand up to the alien bastards alone – and even with the Earthers help it would only be a matter of time.

Even if they had managed to strike the blow against the Covenant that the Master Chief, his Spartans and the combined UNSC / Colonial fleet had hoped for – there was no denying it.

All they could do was buy time – time for what was left of the Colonial people to either flee or take up arms and turn everything they could into a weapon to last as long as they could against the alien onslaught.

To think the UNSC had been doing this for 27 years…and still barely able to hold onto a stalemate with far superior technology…..and billions of lives sacrificed of their own.

The assorted commanders also knew that it wasn't like those who could get out of the Colonies would be fleeing into safety – they would go from one hell into a besieged stronghold of worlds…at best.

Captain Keyes had told him as much when they had first met – that formally exciting meeting months ago that was now a distant memory.

William Adama thought back to the UNSC's Captain's words from that day within the Galactica's conference room.

"We fear that us finding you will lead them to you. We have been fighting them for a generation now. Fighting over ruined and glassed planets. Killing dreadnaughts only for two more usually larger ones to take their place.. I won't mince words and probably will have a field hearing for this – but while we are holding on –we will break and they are slowly grinding us down. Only us resorting to superweapons and genocide on their level MIGHT let us survive. I only fear what will happen if they find you."

Adama used to think sentient alien life was something from science fiction.

Now it was a reality that was a horror story which made him miss the Gods Damned Cylons.

And to think the Colonies at first had tried shooting at their new allies – Adama and no doubt most of those around him still had trouble wrapping their minds around how fast everything had changed.

And how fast millions, and possibly billions of their friends, families and fellow men women and children had died in the short time that followed.

"Getting more readings on the object now – patching it through the viewer and from our telescopes!" Karl Agathon shouted from his station, still with a tear on his uniform from when he had nearly had his arm taken off from shrapnel caused by a plasma burst that struck nearby - testament to how close the Covenant had come to breaching the CIC.

The holographic display around Cortana morphed as the avatar's size enlarged to the point she was "standing" next to the assorted group of Colonials and the Master Chief.

The viewer changed to show the orange toned swirling gas giant dominate the screen as the Galactica's telescopes zoomed in as an object rounded the orbit and came into view.

Everyone gathered - save for the lone Earther supersolider, gasped audibly.

"Magnify." Adama and Tigh said in unison.

"Holy frak."

Dominating the screen came into view was a massive….ring in space.

"Getting numbers now….this is unlike anything we have ever seen." Cortana spoke as she lowered her voice – her code lines running at an exponentially faster rate as she used the Galactica's limited sensers to gather and analyze data that would have taken the crew hours in seconds.

"Its orbit alone is the perfect orbit for masking something like this to telescopes outside of the system it dwells in as well as using the gas giant to mask its gravitic signature…. something built this and hid it here." Cortana deadpanned.

Stealing a glance at the gathered crew – and noting the silence that could make a pen drop sound like a flashbang – Adama walked closer to and leaned over the man threat board. His eyes darting over readouts and statistics that Cortana was feeding the comparatively ancient system.

"Circumference of over 10,000 kilometers. Surface width of 318 kilometers…and I am detecting an atmosphere on that thing – possibly breathable with Picon like weather patterns."

There they were. Oceans, clouds, green plains , snow capped mountain ranges and all of the normal weather patterns Adama would have seen back home…just on the inside of a gigantic ring in outer space.

It was breathtaking.

It was beautiful.

It was terrifying.

"We have theorized about structures like this but the materials alone required for the tensile strength to hold it together are beyond anything we have. And the largest space habitats constructed by Earth using a ring style setup instead of a Cylinder only ever had a diameter of 5 kilometers – though only a few of those were ever built and are all are around Earth. And I don't think this is Covenant."

The last sentence cut through the room like a sonic shockwave.

"How do you know Cortana?" the Master Chief asked, concern starting to rise in his voice – barely noticeable to anyone save for the AI herself.

"The signatures for the construction, materials and techno-signatures are like nothing encountered from the Covenant before. And limited analysis is revealing a date range of age greater than at least 100,000 years."

As if the Colonial's perspective on the universe hadn't already been shattered before – the tiny pieces of proverbial glass that remained were being stamped on.

Adama could see crew members exchanging glances and murmuring – no doubt parts of the more traditional minded members of his crew were feeling uneasy – but most of them no doubt cared less than ever about religious beliefs during a crisis against genocidal aliens whose bodies still littered the hallways of the warship right outside of the main CIC blast doors.

Most of them downed by Earther rifle fire at that.

"And the background energy is off the scale…but strangely the actual ENERGY background radiation that we can detect completely falls off once we hit around 2 million miles from the object. I know it is already artificial….but someone clearly wanted to hide this thing in plain sight." Gaeta added.

Adama wanted to sit down. He had not slept in nearly 72 hours and counting and the stims were starting to wear off.

"Its location would do a lot to hide it from out of system telescopes – this system has been scanned by UNSC and predecessor organizations on Earth hundreds of years ago – and we noticed nothing like this even on the gravitic level." Cortana nodded in agreement.

"Noted, " Adama replied as he took his glasses off to rub his forehead in a vain attempt to fight off the impending drowsiness.

And the foreboding sense of dread on his mind.

"Cortana, Gaeta – keep a scanning for Covenant contacts. Anything on the threat board yet?"

The AI nodded an affirmative as the local wireless handset came to life as Duella , headset on and listening intently as she visibly stifled back a yawn of exhaustion – turned to Adama.

"I've got Sergeant's Johnson requesting an update now."

"Patch him through." Tigh confirmed with a huff, leaning over the threat board to study the artificial ring, cursing under his breath but being louder than he likely intended.

Now a familiar voice of one of the Battlestar's companion "guests" rang through the CIC's speakers – the Spartan crossing his arms and still standing unnervingly , and awkwardly – behind the senior crew as he watched on.

Adama was once again grateful for the Earther technology – were it not for their suit's built in translators everything would have been so much harder.

"Am I seeing what I think I am seeing or did your fluky version of Slipspace make me start seeing things?"

Adama chuckled – there was no doubt that with their capabilities most if not all of the UNSC crew members – mostly Marines – and surviving flight crews off of the Pillar of Autumn along with the Spartan were tapped into the live feeds themselves. And likely sharing with the rest of the Galactica's crew that was present.

"Its exactly what you are seeing. And I hope to the Gods that this is something the Covenant needs to keep their war effort going. What is the status of your men?"

Johnson coughed on the other end of the line as replied. "I've got barely a platoon of Marines with varying level of readiness at the moment. Of those half of them have their Assault Armor still operable at readiness levels that are within acceptable tolerance levels and our reactors will be good for another month of combat. Its ammo and replacement parts that are the problem. We have limited fabrication capabilities left for our heavy weapons, and the ammo we have ready is it. Admiral Nagala nor Admiral White didn't have the time to send us a fabricator or printer to make replacement components. We are at about 65 percent on our ammo availability. Beyond that we are sticking to small arms and the SPI Powersuits we have. What we pulled from the fleet and the Pillar of Autumn is it"

Adama nodded – he had no intention of doing anything other than recon – hoping that the need to kill the Covenant in another boarding operation or ground op was not necessary.

Hopefully this would turn into an aggressive recon mission to bring back info on what the Covenant battlenet had been so seemingly overjoyed about before they had hit the Covenant invasion force that had been poised to finish off the 12 Colonies.

They had hoped that whatever was here was important, and maybe – perhaps by a small terrifying chance, it was a Covenant world – one that the Galactica could report back to the UNSC so that they could return soon.

And deliver a world killing weapon of mass genocide and destruction whose existence alone made him terrified.

Gods Bill, we have lost so much and jumping from one battle right into looking for another one already.

"Thanks Sergeant, let me know anything we can do to help and you have full access to whatever parts that are useful to you."

"Aye Aye Sir – Johnson out."

Were it not for the Master Chief and those like him, Sergeant Johnson and his assorted surviving UNSC Marines and ODSTs would have represented the most advanced and powerful band of soldiers the 12 Colonies had encountered. Each of their surviving suits of armor would have stopped most Colonial small arms cold and he had seen personally survive Covenant plasma blasts that would have normally split an average human into two flaming halves.

As such it was the Earth soldiers had done the majority of the xeno-killing throughout the blood-soaked corridors of the Battlestar.

And with their "Stealth Powered Inflator" armored suits as they called them being able to be almost undetectable to the naked eye – Adama shuddered to think that he and his men were more of a liability than allies.

Powered armor. Miniature aneutronic fusion cells. Damn near invisible soldiers with optical camo. Frakking anti ship Lasers. Cybernetic implants.

C-Fractional Magnetic Accelerator weapons, AI guided fusion torch missiles, point defense railguns and tactical analysis.

Warships with torch drives that could match and exceed the velocities of all Colonial ships…AND their weapons.

Electric armor – however the frak that worked. Guided bullets, infantry scale railguns and portable energy weapons. Stealth warships. Plasma barriers.

Mass Produced 3-D Printers that could make almost anything that was metallic.

AI Guided Drone Swarms and casual hunter killer drones that made the Cylons look like toys.

Microwave weaponry.

Shaped nuclear warheads that could lance through a warship from hundreds to thousands of kilometers away.

Room Temperature Ambient Pressure Superconductors…

Planet Killers…the list went on.

Even their "small arms" which were the most familiar thing technologically to the Colonials still were basically what the Colonials would have considered light anti armor weapons.

It wasn't lost on Adama and his crew that should they survive this war the Colonials would have to struggle to find its place and possibly be completely at the whims of Earth.

The Galactica currently had seven UNSC Pelicans and somehow a single lightly damaged Longsword which had been taken in during the chaos that had unfolded over Caprica and Gemenon – and only 6 pilots capable of commanding them.

No doubt that single UNSC "Interceptor" – a term that was almost a misnomer as to him it was more of a warship than anything like a Viper – held firepower that was many times the amount the Battlestar's full wing could ever had mustered at its zenith.

Hopefully they wouldn't need it so soon.

Adama needed to sit down – they had gone through so much – he had seen so much death and his willpower had been pushed to the limit and everything he had known just months ago were shattered.

As he stared at the artificial ring on the viewscreen before him – officers shouting out status reports and updates and readouts. He felt so small.

They WERE so small.

Whoever built and hid this megastructure – this…Halo Ring in space – had held an immense amount of power.

But then what had happened to them?

Were they still out there?

Why was this thing so obviously hidden?

He thought back to how they got here and the connection to the artifact which had long been sitting in the Delphi Museum of the Colonies on Caprica.

That blasted millennia old hunting bow once thought to open a mythical tomb of Athena on the long lost planet of Kobal.

When the Covenant had came and blasted their way through the fleet and the capital worlds defenses they had gone right for the city of Delphi – launching ground invasions that killed everything in their path before the UNSC fought them off – leaving millions dead and allowing Adama to witness the glassing beams in action that had supposedly slagged dozens of Earther worlds.

That damned thing was a key – and it was sitting – almost discarded in a case next to the main threat display.

The Master Chief and his Spartans had recovered it from the ruined and hellish battlefield around Delphi – but not before a Covenant force had captured it and clearly had sent some form of information to the embattled alien fleet.

Which had prompted a much larger invasion force that had swarmed the Colonies and forced them to pull off the desperate gamble that had left them here.

This ancient artifact somehow led the Covenant here – and they wanted it bad.

Bad enough to the point that they had tried boarding whatever ship had it and take it back.

Adama shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Adama was determined to not let all of the sacrifice that had led them to this point be in vain.

He knew though that they had taken thousands of alien bastards down with them – perhaps millions.

It was then where the dreaded familiar sound of the DRADIS threat board lit up and shook Adama from his thoughts.

Dread made its return

A contact return on the primary sensors.

For Adama, Tigh, and all Colonials in the command center's, they felt their heart catch in their throat as Cortana shouted.

"DRADIS Contact! Bearing at 1.2 million kilometers, holding station in high orbit around the ring. Profile matches Covenant CCS Pattern Battlecruiser."

Adama could even hear a sense of urgency in the AI's own voice – no doubt Cortana had already ran the calculations.

He had seen similar warships cleave through Mercury class Battlestars in a salvo of plasma and laser fire with ease – and he knew that the UNSC needed their own Cruisers and Battlecruisers to stand toe to toe with them – having witnessed more than enough of their far superior warships also turn into fiery smears across the cold vacuum.

Like a well oiled machine the CIC sprang into action.

It had only been minutes since they had just jumped away from death. And now they were back at it again.

"Weapons status!?" Tight shouted.

"Coming online now. Only half of our forward main batteries are online. Combustion chambers on primary batteries coming online and cycling now. Hydrogen and oxygen cells are spooling and main battery second stage accelerator rails are charging now. Frak we didn't even have time to fully deactivate our weapons…" Gaeta replied.

Tigh nodded with a huff, "Get them fully back online ASAP. I don't care if our combined light gas guns blow out our refrigerants for the primary stage. How are we on the nuclear rounds?"

Cortana chimed in as the Master Chief stood stock still – taking the situation in but no doubt already giving commands to the rest of the surviving UNSC "crew" members over their comm channels.

"More enemy contacts! Multiple Covenant battlegroups coming around the reverse side of the gas giant now. 1.3 million clicks and closing. I have two more groups of two CCS Pattern Battlecruisers with one CPV Class Heavy destroyer attached. Both coming in from each of the gas giant poles respectively. They are maneuvering to intercept us before we can make it to the unknown megastructure."

FTL offline and still recharging…with a ship superstructure on a countdown till breaking up.

Inferior weaponry and propulsion systems.

Major prior battle damage.

Limited to no Vipers left and only a motley assortment of armed crew left.

And hundreds of thousands of kilometers of open space for the Covenant warships to sit and take lethal shots at them…far out ranging anything the Battlestar could throw back at them.

"I have made a battle assessment of our options." Cortana stated as a plethora of diagnostics and live scenarios of multiple burn maneuver options took over the primary view screen.

Tigh and Adama leaned in to study them as each scenario played out before them one second by second in real time.

They didn't like any of them.

Tigh let out a pained laugh – echoing Adama's own sentiments.

"Is there an option that sucks less?" his XO asked.

"One – but its pretty much a one and done maneuver." The AI replied.

The scenarios continued.

Burn maneuvers and diagnostic lines filled the space above Cortana – showing the dwindling maneuver options of the Galactica one by one as the angry red holographic icons of the Covenant warships played to each scenario …moving to intercept the blue icon of the Galactica at over thirty different vectors.

All of them ended with the blue icon winking out of existence.

Adama slammed his fist down as Gaeta shouted.

"First and second enemy group is accelerating – moving to intercept. Third enemy CCS class is holding position in a close orbit of the Megastructure. One million kilometers and closing fast as frak!"

The viewscreen split to show both of the alien warships – their almost beautiful purple and blue organic looking outlines contrasting with the darkness of space like predatory sea-creatures that filled the oceans of Picon as they hugged the lower orbits of the gas giant. Something that no doubt had helped mask their signatures until now.

He could see now familiar weapons ports begin charging with countless amounts of energy – undoubtably able to core his Battlestar and others like it from ranges that embarrassed what his kinetic energy weapons were capable of. A fact that the Colonies had learned the hard way many times over.

Were he on an Earth ship like the Pillar of Autumn they might have had a slim chance – and could have probably taken a couple of them down with them at the least in a straight up fight.

"Visual and energy readings confirming charging of Plasma torpedoes. If we make it through more than a couple of volleys they will close range and be in Plasma lance range – at which point we will be out of tactical options and I calculate a 5% chance of surviving contact. Calculated odds of intercepting torpedo volleys now…. estimate 55 percent successful interception rate of first volley and dropping significantly after that. Nuclear fissile stockpiles at 23 percent." Cortana announced coldly.

The Master Chief shifted.

"Cortana – what of that last option you had? I think I know what you have an idea about but….." the Spartan paused as the officers turned to look up at the Spartan.

"..We will have to make it to that Ring. I've got a feeling that this thing is so important to the Covenant that they will follow us there."

Tigh coughed and Adama closed his eyes in thought.

"You want us to land a Battlestar on that thing?! Even if we don't get fried before then we have no idea what is on that thing. There could be an alien army or cities on it. Gods knows what bacteria or other shit that could kill us!"

"And did I mention we would be stuck there?"

Emotions threatening to rise in his mind Adama took a breath and opened his eyes.

John cooly replied, "You know we won't survive against a force like this on our own. With no ability to FTL out unless we could get everyone in a Raptor – our best chance of surviving is on that Ring."

Gaeta and Tight began to protest as Adama cut through the counter argument before it could start.

"He is right."

The crew stared at him wide eyed.

The Spartan stood in silence once more – taking in the reaction to his words like a statue.

The Colonial Admiral turned to Duella.

"Tell one of our remaining Raptors to get ready to dust off asap. Best speed back to the Colonies. I don't care how many jumps it takes them. Someone has to know what we found and where we are. If we can survive down there long enough and the Chief's hunch is right they at the very least won't fire on us from orbit."

"Yes sir!"

He turned to the AI – a look of mutual understanding crossing her features again as klaxons blared and the bridge lighting turned to a darker shade to match the call to Battlestations that went out as soon as Condition one had been declared.

"Can you intercept enough of their plasma torpedoes to buy us time? I need to plot the Galactica's likely last FTL jump if we can even get that off in time." He asked….the words hitting him like a brick to the gut.

This is our final ride old girl.

Cortana nodded as the shouting of the command crew in protest threatened to drown them out.

Adama ignored them as did the AI.

"Yes I can intercept a few of their salvos but the longer we essentially sit still in space the less I can guarantee I can catch. As you know once they get to within 60,000 kilometers they have the range to tag us with Plasma Lance or an Energy Projector which we won't survive more than a couple of hits at best."

"Which is why I won't let them do that." Adama turned to Tigh.

"We are going to have surge our reactors and get one last jump out of her – we have to get as close to that Ring as possible for us to have a hope of abandoning ship."

'Beware that there is an equal chance we light off our Tylium lines and send half to hell in a microsecond." Tight warned as he brought up the internal schematics of the ship's engineering labyrinth.

The blare of the klaxons was like a familiar hum of background noise to Adama as he thought to the crew – and his son who was no doubt pulling the canopy of one of their remaining Vipers closed around him.

This is probably the only way I can give us a prayer of living on.

"Even if we can do one more jump that gets us within twenty thousand clicks away from the ring – gravitic interference makes anything closer suicidal –there is still the small matter of a third CCS class battlecruiser in orbit that can still tag us."

Adama turned as the displays spun to show the Covenant warships cross the 800,000 kilometer threshold as both the alien megastructure and the Gas giant filled the viewscreens.

They had a minute tops before the enemy capital warships – seething with energy and hellfire – were in range to fire salvos of death that would turn the Galactica into atoms as they pushed their repulsor drives to full thrust and closed at speeds that were still alarming to witness.

"Begin spooling the tylium pumps and reactors now to surge power to the FTL drive now. In the meantime give me best course towards the ring ASAP! If we can get the FTL to work as soon as we appear fire everything we have at that bastard. Order all crew to begin evacuation preparations and get everything we can that will allow us to survive on the surface ready to load onto the Pelicans with the UNSC crew."

"We are going to try and get as close as we can?!" Gaeta and Tight almost said in unison.

"We have no chance but to try and take that thing out as we burn towards the ring. If we don't at least cause some sort of damage that bastard will just snipe at our Raptors and Pelicans we have that can make it to the surface. But we have to cut the exposure time by as much as possible before we abandon ship so we will ride the Old Girl down right as we hit the atmosphere."

It was a desperate plan with incredibly long odds, but the AI at least agreed – playing out yet another scenario with a burn option that the Galactica could perform which would send it careening towards the ring down the gas giant's gravity well at maximum burn.

The hard part would be exiting their final jump – as even with the power of a UNSC AI close range intersystem jumps were always a crapshoot as to their accuracy – via UNSC Slipsace or Colonial Jump Drive. Colonial Battlegroups would regularly have formations scattered by several thousand kilometers at times when performing them – and the danger of doing them was not lost that they could appear inside a vessel or station sharing the same point in space time. And even trying them near a gravity well was rolling the dice on instantly being mass scattered by jumping into a planet or object of sufficient mass.

The crew double timed it to carry out the Admirals orders as the Master Chief finally stirred – for a second silently turned to Adama and pointed at the nearly forgotten artifact sitting next to the primary threat display with his armored gauntlet.

"I think we can buy us time with the artifact. Force the Covenant to board us and not destroy us. Make them get in close and not kill us outside of range."

Cortana chimed in before Tigh could get a word of protest in.

"I can blast audio across local space and get the signal into known Covenant bandwidths – no video unless they decide to receive but…" The AI cut herself off as her eyes widened and code flashed…something that still was spine tingling for Adama to see.

"Energy signatures rising from polar Covenant battlegroups – preparing to fire!"

Organized chaos once again reigned as officers gave their status reports as Adama sprang into action.

"Full burn now! Give me all available military thrust from our drives and prepare main batteries to intercept. Status on the guns?!"

The Battlestars six primary drives lit with nuclear fury as accelerated light gases from her direct fusion drives pumped helium 3 and light gases into their magnetic cones and out their huge nozzles – pushing the lumbering giant mass of warship to multiple kilometers per second on a heading towards the alien megastructure and lower into the gravity well of the gas giant.

...And into the upcoming alien hellfire.

Adama watched as a velocity and distance readout appeared on the holographic display Cortana was projecting.

They would never be fast enough.

Lacking the Fusion torch engines the Earther ships had which they called "Epstein Drives"- technology that operated on a level that was beyond Colonial engineering capabilities and magnetic field mastery – the Galactica would take almost a half hour to make it to the ring.

And likely long dead by then.

"Jump drive status?"

It was Gaeta's turn to answer as he held his headset with his right hand and worked his consol's keyboard with the other – coordinating about a dozen different reports from just the engineering teams alone even with Cortana doing a lot of the heavy lifting.

"Barely online and we wont have enough power to create a fold for the next half hour – there is only one thing we can do which is to shunt our Tylium into the drive lines themselves."

Something that Adama knew any and all Colonial engineers would have screamed at the mere thought of. It was like trying to light a campfire in your tent using dynamite.

"Enemy firing!" Cortana shouted as the viewscreen shifted and split to show both Covenant battlegroups. Each of the two 1600 meter long CCS battlecruisers had their dorsal midsections collect with light – the known locations of the alien plasma torpedo emitters - before the balls of light discharged into four streaking spears of light and energy while the teardrop winged predatory form of the CPV Heavy destroyers similarly let loose multiple additional spears of hellfire.

Before Adama could react he felt the Battlestar shift beneath him as Cortana took control – the helmsmen no longer even trying to protest as their controls shifted out of their hands.

The Battlestar rolled in space to present her "top" dorsal section towards the oncoming fire as six – originally 8 – capital grade anti ship turrets swiveled towards the oncoming threat.

The plasma torpedoes – spears of blue light that seemed like they were tearing through the heart of space itself streaked through tens of thousands of kilometers every couple of seconds.

"Nuclear rounds loaded. Accelerator rails charged. Primary and secondary ignition stages pumped. Hydrogen gases pumped and ready for compression. Recycler turbo pumps spooling. Detonation controls locked in." Cortana read off as the threat board showed the icons of the incoming enemy torpedoes in an instant – with the blue icon of the Galactica showing multiple white lines of projected firing paths of her main guns.

Those white lines then intersected with the incoming red lines of alien torpedo fire and white circular icons flashed into existence along the predicted path of the plasma torpedoes.

The computing power to do these calculations in the time required would have been beyond the Colonial computing power were it not for desperate measures they had taken, re-wiring and even hacking more modern Colonial warships with UNSC AIs to give them a better chance of surviving the Covenant onslaught.

A testament to how fast human societies could change and adapt when confronted annihilation…

"Impact in twenty seconds." Tigh called out as he read off the threat display – again augmented by Cortana's support.

"We can't get the FTL charged in time." Duella called out – a conclusion that Adama had long accepted.

The deck shuttered again and the artificial intelligence pushed the Battlestar to her maximum thrust and blasted towards the alien megastructure at her best capable speed. Pushing reactor and fusion ignition lines to their maximum safety limits.

For the guided plasma weapons that carried megaton levels of thermal and kinetic energy the Galactica might as well had been standing still.

"Firing solutions engaged. Ready to fire."

Adama stole a glance at the AI, Master Chief and his senior officers all standing and watching the viewscreens as the weapons fire speed towards them – knowing that while one hit might not turn them to atoms – the oncoming wall of superheated particles would.

It was all so surreal.

Not even several months ago the thought of trusting his life and those of his crew with an artificial intelligence was unthinkable.

Seeing Caprica City on fire and overrun by aliens changed your mind Bill.

He shook his thoughts aside.

"Weapons free." He commanded.

Deep within each of the Battlestar's huge primary anti-ship multi stage KEW mounts a volatile mix of hyper compressed hydrogen and oxygen was ignited in a violent controlled reaction that sent a jet of fire into 1500 mm rounds awaiting the pressure wave.

Each slug the size of a small city bus were rocketed down the barrels and into the awaiting second stage of accelerator rails at over 9 km/s.

All in a fraction of a second - as the projectiles accelerated down their barrel length - valves opened to capture as much of the expanding gases as possible – to later be separated and recycled as much as possible for the next volley. Such was the standard operating procedure for a heavy Combustion Light Gas system.

The projectiles –within another instant – were thrown into electromagnetic accelerator rails within the latter 2/3rds of each primary battery's huge twin barrels.

Chilled Super Capacitors and switchgear closed their circuits and discharged.

Instantly two opposing magnetic fields with untold amounts of tesla units grabbed and flung each round down the length of magnetic rails and into the great expanse of space with an additional 8.5 km/s of velocity.

Each slug burned bright orange as they left the business end of each primary capital grade Kinetic Energy Weapon mount with a velocity of over 17 km/s.

It was a triumph of Colonial weapon designs only bested by the much larger and potent multi-stage 3000 mm Chem Rail bow guns on a Mercury class Battlestar.

Against the Covenant though - weapons which would have shredded a Cylon Basetar in seconds – would take almost fifteen minutes to strike the Covenant vessels at the range they were being engaged at.

If the Covenant just sat still and allowed themselves to be hit that was.

But these projectiles were not being used offensively.

"Detonation in seven seconds – readying next volley." The AI sounded off as the Galactica's capital grade projectiles' third stage kicked in.

Built in solid rocket boosters designed to withstand the extreme G forces of their initial acceleration ignited and burned for an additional 10 seconds just after leaving the barrels – giving the rounds an additional 1.5 km/s of velocity before their propellant ran out.

This was going to be close.

The Plasma torpedoes passed 80,000 kilometers ….then 60 k….then thirty thousand kilometers.

Seconds to impact.

At a mere five seconds from impact as the officers watched the Galactica's slugs reach their interception points on the displays.

A dozen balls of plasma, high energy radiation and light burst into existence as the Colonial rounds nuclear tipped warheads detonated – each in 15 kiloton fireballs.

Everyone's eyes were locked on the screens – both the viewscreen and the tactical board.

The twenty plus Plasma torpedoes – fired from opposing poles of the Gas Giant and formed into a singular gigantic salvo – intersected the nuclear fireballs right after detonation.

As nuclear plasma quickly became wavering plumes the Covenant weapons were struck by the local high energy radiation of each detonation.

Magnetic bottles lost containment and superheated plasma turned into angry smears of static and dissipating gas across a thousand kilometers of space as they ballooned and dissipated.

One torpedo, however, streaked through the rapidly expanding wavering plumes of bluish nuclear gases.

"Brace for impact!" Tigh shouted as Cortana locked down the controls for another desperate maneuver.

All of the crew in the CIC gripped their seats as the ship groaned from sudden – and largely in vain – maneuvering.

Not to avoid the torpedo.

That was already impossible.

But to mitigate the damage.

The Battlestar's engines flared as magnetic containment fields altered their thrust and vectored port and starboard opposed drives in opposing "up " and "down" thrust burns.

Emergency thrusters along the old Jupiter Class Battlestar sides flared to life.

The Galactica rolled on her central axis and banked – presenting her previously damaged flight pod which rolled into position just as the Covenant Plasma torpedo struck home.

The amidships of the great human warship were engulfed in hellfire as the plasma imparted its tremendous kinetic and thermal energy as one.

The flight pod was cored as a localized megaton of thermal and kinetic energy tore through layers of armor, Viper Launch tubes, ammunition bunkers and the primary skeleton of the ship.

The flight pod bulged outwards for a brief moment before a tenth of the overall mass of the flight pod turned into a vaporized plume of shrapnel and fire.

The only thing that saved the Battlestar was its sheer mass as the damage largely contained its worst effects within the pod – now ruined and venting atmosphere as a quarter of the pod's mass was aflame and bursting apart.

Adama and the crew were thrown to the floor as the lighting flickered off for a second – Adama staggering and lost his grip , the side of Cortana's holotank rushing forward straight to his head.

Adama only saw a green blur and felt his body stop before he realized that his uniform was being held by the vice like grip of the Master Chief.

"Status Report!" Tigh coughed as gravity fluxes in the artificial gravity plating welled again – causing yet more groans and unnerving sensations of brief microgravity as the crew held on.

Consols sparked and flickered for a second as readouts stabilized.

"We are in an uncontrolled roll. Reactors are surging and tylium lines purging to compensate. All life signs in starboard flight pod are gone. Thankfully mostly evacuated. A quarter of starboard side CIWS not responding. Minor damage to reactor coolant lines. Enemy preparing second salvo." The artificial intelligence called out as everyone tried to compose themselves as best they could.

"Vent all effected areas!" Tigh shouted as the Cortana nodded – acknowledging that she had already started.

The crew hung on as gravity plating flickered for half a second – threatening to send everyone save the Master Chief into the air before settling back down.

Adama grunted as the Chief helped Adama back to his feet – thanking him as he turned back to Gaeta.

"Please tell me our FTL can get one more jump in ASAP! We can't let them snipe us outside of our range to even shoot back."

His Junior Lieutenant was holding himself against his consol with his eyes not leaving his main console display with one hand still clinging to the headset.

"Tyroll is screaming that he needs to reset the port Tylium banker Turbo pumps to purge the lines and dump them into the FTL chamber to spin the capacitors up. Will take him another ten minutes at minimum. Half of his engineering crew is already incapacitated."

"Tell him to make it two minutes! So long as we don't mass scatter ourselves from this we will still end up as atoms!" Adama shouted back as the threat display lit up once again.

"More torpedoes incoming!"

The Covenant squadrons of Battlecruisers and Destroyers let loose another volley of torpedoes – streaking bolts of magnetically contained superheated gas shot through the void and accelerated to a fraction the speed of light.

The Galactica kept its roll going as her main turrets pivoted and tracked – Cortana running firing solutions so each weapon could fire towards their designated interception point as the warship rolled to present her dorsal and ventral weapons towards the approaching threat with each rotation.

"Firing!"

The Galactica fired her main guns in multiple salvos, four salvos in total – each turret unleashing multi-kilometer per second nuclear tipped rounds each time their firing window presented itself with the ship's roll.

From a viewer's perspective the old Battlestar rolled clockwise – its engines belching star-hot magnetically accelerated light gas particles as her main batteries fired in volleys with each rotation – and her wounds leaving a trail of debris and occasional human bodies tumbling out of her pock marked and once pristine hull.

The gas giant and mysterious ring world rotated over and over on the primary viewscreens as the Colonial weapons reached their intersecting points.

Nuclear warheads detonated in four volleys – stitching fireballs against the heavens in waves of repeating explosions one after the other. Short lived stars appeared in front of the path of the Plasma torpedoes and enveloped them one after one.

Two, then three, then six and ten torpedoes lost containment and turned into wavering smears across the expanse of vacuum as two more plasma torpedoes crossed within a thousand kilometers of the Colonial Battlestar.

Adama gripped the handrail closest to him as two more of the Galactica's capital grade weapons, this time two of the four remaining bow guns situated under the "chin" of the alligator shaped bow - rotated into position along with the ever more rapidly spinning Battlestar and fired a silent double thunderclap in defiance.

Four vehicle sized slugs moving at over eighteen kilometers per second spat forth with fire and flame – and only seconds later detonated as the final energy projectiles were moments from deadly impact.

Near point blank nuclear starbursts – appearing like multiple exponentially supersized flak bursts the Galactica would have used against her more conventional opponents – detonated at knife fighting range.

The viewscreens showing the port side of the Battlestar briefly went white and settled into a blue hue as the final two torpedoes lost magnetic containment from opposing charged electromagnetic particles and radiation. More white hot gaseous spears of destruction turned into fading plumes right before impact.

The Battlestar Galactica for a brief moment appeared covered in a mini nebula of dissipating gaseous firestorm and radiation before her bruised and battered mass shot through , leaving rapidly dissipating charged particles in her wake.

Adama and the crew winced – it was getting too close.

The final lone Covenant Battlecruiser stationed in high elliptical orbit of the Halo Ring – no longer content to watch the fight – unleashed a furry of long range Pulse laser fire from over 800,000 kilometers distant.

The focused pulses of high energy photons struck in rapidly repeating pulses – to the naked eye appearing like a constant beam but to physics and detailed analysis was more of a incredibly rapid series of energy pulses – more like a laser machine gun drilling through the Battlestar's hull.

Layers of already damaged armor over a meter thick instantly turned into gases as ablated mass ejected into space with more and more of the armor sliced through. Exposed weapons ports melted and one of the previously damaged main gun mounts – ejecting half of the mount into space as hydrogen that had not been pumped back into the central storage tanks deep within the interior of the Battlestar ignited in a fantastic blue hued explosion.

The Chief this time grunted – still not moving – but swaying now as the deck heaved yet again under the crew – a consol overloading near the rear of the CIC in a flash of electricity and burning plastics.

"I know it goes without saying but, We can't take much more of this sir."

Even the superhuman is worried.

Adama turned to Tigh – holding onto the threat board as his wounded leg gave out from under him – still defiantly held the headset unit in the other.

The entire ship was shaking around them – from its drives own burn that was rapidly depleting their already depleted propellant reserves – and the constant groans of the ship's superstructure itself as hit after hit of pule laser fire struck again and again.

His XO's eyes about bulged as he threw the handset down and pulled himself up – half shouting.

"Turbopumps freed and ready – Tyrol and his crew have initiated dumping Tylium into the secondary combustion chamber. Capacitors ready to spin up in 30 seconds!"

Adama looked around him.

He could see it in everyone's eyes – even feel the emotions of the crew as they fought for their lives across the depths of the mile long behemoth that had once been the mightiest warship of the 12 Colonies of Man.

The fear, the raw emotion – but also the dedication and bravery.

And sheer defiance

Out of the sole functioning Flight pod a diminutive gunmetal colored Colonial Raptor shot out of the back of the Battlestar's flight deck. Shooting out and twisting to avoid being caught in the Galactica's drive plume and again to avoid the mothership's defensive nuclear fire – the strained voice of Lieutenant Hamish McCall Callsign Skulls warbled through the taxed CIC coms.

"Pulling multiple Gees here! We are launching Galactica! Setting course back to the Colonies and the last known relative coordinates of the Combined Fleet!" the skilled Raptor Pilot strained as he held on to his controls and threw the strike craft into a dazzling series of maneuvers to try and place the Galactica behind his vector as a shield to potential Covenant fire with directed burns from the primary drives and RCS thrusters.

The XO huffed and cursed before hitting the reply button nearest to him on the wirelesss.

"Get the ever loving FRAK out of here Skulls! You are cleared to jump! Get back to whatever is left and let them know where we are."

"Affirmative! Give them hell!" the pilot replied as the lone Raptor pilot logged in the pre-loaded coordinates – hoping that he would not end up dead on the other side of the fold.

Adama and the Master Chief watched as the Raptor winked off of the DRADIS display. And hopefully back to something – even if it would take the craft multiple jumps.

More enemy Plasma torpedoes shot forth – this time in staggard waves as the Covenant decided that overwhelming the Galactica's defensive fire would be easier with a multi-vector attack. No doubt two or three of the torpedoes were going to change their vector to loop back and hit the Galactica from astern.

Cortana tracked and fired the main guns at interception points she calculated within a millisecond. Expertly sending city destroying firepower out into the void to defeat alien weaponry many times the velocity of her own weapon fire.

Starbursts sprung forth in the void as curving comets of light were enveloped.

More Pulse lasers burned through the hull – the offending vessel not but a spot of light flickering from the orbit of the Halo ring to an observer on the impacted Galactica at such great visual range.

Something that with the Covenant and even Adama's experience with the UNSC and chasing the Pillar of Autumn had taught him.

They were out of their league.

Armor, Weapons ports and CIWS mounts melted or exploded.

Plasma torpedoes winked off the display as more intersecting lines of projected firing paths for the primary guns emanated from the lone central icon of the Galactica on Cortana's holotank.

The ammunition counter for the nuclear projectiles – once something that had been reserved for the most desperate situations by the Pre-Contact Colonial fleet – dropped lower and lower.

"Nuclear rounds at Fifteen percent remaining – Galactica only will have conventional Kinetic Impactors, Anti Missile Flak, Shaped Hi–Explosive anti Ship and Guided Multiple Kinetic Impact Vehicle rounds left after depletion." – Cortana noted with concern.

Against the shields of a Covenant warship that wasn't a strike craft or light Frigate those were next to useless.

A final torpedo shot around and above the Galactica, shooting thousands of kilometers astern before it changed its vector- taking a curving maneuver that was an uncalculatable number of G Forces - and streaked back towards the Galactica. The torpedoes maneuvering icons being tracked on the augmented threat display and DRADIS screens Cortana was providing as the angry red icon sped towards the Battlestar's primary engines.

"Spool the pumps now and send the Tylium into its emergency detonation chamber! Spin capacitors and prepare to discharge. Cortana give me your best guess calculation that can get as close as possible to lone CCS Class Son of a Frakker!" Adama shouted.

"Hold on to something! Getting us as close as we can! Small chance we either end up inside the Covenant ship and take it with us or falling into orbit of either the ring or the gas giant!" Cortana announced as the code on her avatar accelerated and flashed – running millions of calculations each second.

Tylium shot through the pressured lines deep within the guts of the Battlestar as Galen Tyrol and several of his men locked down the hastily repaired controls within the confines of the FTL drive sync's labyrinth of decks, plumbing, whirling supercapacitors and cables – manually flung an oversized override lever open.

Nearly a metric ton of Tylium vented from the primary tanks on the port and starboard side tanks that ran the length of the warship from the back of the "head" of the Battlestar to the start of the sublight drives. Shooting through a maze of chilled cooling lines the highly unstable and refined ore entered into emergency compression chambers alongside the flanks of the primary FTL drive syncs. Tylium compressed and detonated as high energy lasers fused the material to supercritical conditions. Elements and subatomic particles became a miniature pulsed nuclear fusion reaction sent heat and radiation against magnetic fields containing the reaction.

Switchgear directly converted the thermal energy and radiation into current in one instant and supercapacitors spun and discharged countless energy into the FTL drive.

The secondary FTL drive sync instantly spun to its maximum setting as particle accelerators flashed with subatomic particles and began to open a space time bubble that encompassed the Jupiter Class Battlestar as she spun in space and desperately fired her remaining Gas - Rail accelerated nuclear rounds into the void.

In a flash the Battlestar disappeared as a brief trans – luminal fold in space appeared and folded in on itself.

As briefly as the Galactica was in one moment in one position in relative time and space, in another instant she was gone.

In the now empty space the warship had once inhabited two Covenant Plasma torpedoes shot through not a second later.

And that very same instant the Galactica flashed through the other side of the fold in space time….

This time she was only six hundred kilometers away from the CCS Class Battlecruiser holding high orbit above the alien megastructure ring.

Adama, the crew and even the Spartan Supersolider stumbled as the unpleasant sensation of travelling through a brief fold in space time overcame them and momentum ceased to exist before Newtonian physics came back into existence.

Adama grabbed the handrail nearest to him – praying in his mind that Lee was okay and ready for the hell they were about to re-enter within the confines of his awaiting Viper.

The threat display gave a shrill alarm as the DRADIS displayed an angry red icon within the primary engagement envelop.

He had lost track how many times his heart had caught in his throat the past several days.

"Hit that Frakker with everything we have! Nuclear missile status!?"

Alarms wailed as the primary turrets on the Galactica spun towards their new bearings.

The Battlestar still maintained its velocity as she rolled along her central axis and fired another defiant salvo from her main guns.

The Covenant warship, approaching on the port side at a negative angle down the gravity well of the Halo ring, lit her main drives and spun to bring her primary weapons to bare.

Cortana's avatar "watched" as energy gathered on the flanks and bow of the sea creature shaped form of the devastatingly powerful alien warship.

Sensors and infrared imaging systems tracked heat signatures that rose to planetary climate altering levels in an instant as the defensive and offensive systems of the Covenant capital ship came to life.

"Nuclear missiles standing at 7 delivery vehicles with 12 thirty megaton rated thermonuclear warheads on independent impact vehicles." Cortana replied in monotone as she gave the display to Adama holographically.

"Time on target arrival with the battlecruiser. Empty all of our nuclear rounds into it that you can but give standard interspacing for our Multiple Kill warheads to at least give them more targets to shoot at with a few high ex shaped warhead rounds thrown in."

"Once the first volley is away fire all of our remaining missiles at once with our second volley – have the independent warheads separate early from their launch vehicle and take as many vectors as we can to hit that thing from. "

Cortana nodded as Tigh coordinated the weapons controllers – mainly charging them with maintaining the ammo loaders and gas cyclers with the AI having control over the actual weapons themselves.

The looming Spartan brought the holographic display closer to his perspective as he stooped to tower over the threat board.

"Cortana – time one of the volleys to strike their main plasma lance batteries when they collect their maximum energy. We might be able to catch them right as they lower that portion of the shields to fire."

The AI nodded as she smirked – "I was already planning that big guy. Timing about two hundred nuclear slugs without smart warheads and 84 maneuvering nuclear missiles to all strike a maneuvering target actively trying to kill us that all have to detonate within an ESTIMATED two second window. Will that work?"

Tigh smirked from across the threat board – the Artificial Intelligence's sarcasm and sly goading of the towering Superhuman – that became outright playful teasing at times, still surprised them.

And amused Bill all the same.

The Spartan paused before Adama swore he heard an audible chuckle.

"Yes. It will."

"Good." The AI crossed her arms before adding.

"I don't want to die on this bucket anymore than you all do."

A part of Adama's mind wanted to analyze the UNSC AI's clear emotional desire for self preservation.

But the other side of his brain that was the primate part that wanted to survive overruled as he grunted, clenching his fist and almost slamming it down on the central threat board.

"Fire at will."

The AI nodded as Tigh took a deep breath and turned to him.

"We got to start prepping the evac shuttles and Raptors now and our Vipers are still in the tubes."

Adama shook his head as the display on Cortana's holo-tank showed firing solutions interlace and lock on for all of the Galactica's primary weapons systems as they cycled, swiveled or locked on one after the other at speeds that were at least five times faster than her pre – emergency refit with the UNSC fleet would have managed.

"We launch now and we get shot down by laser fire. Or we die running to the flight pod as the ship decompresses around us."

The Battlestar shook beneath their feet as the main batteries fired as fast as their automated ammo systems, compressors, turbo pumps, and electromagnetic supercapacitors could cycle.

Slug after slug was fired in volleys from the remaining 18 primary Compound Gas Rail Batteries as the ship maintained her existing spin. Each one of the Main Batteries sending projectiles at velocities that could accelerate inert slugs to kinetic releases that would decimate portions of small cities.

But even at this range the time they took to strike the alien vessel was almost painfully slow compared to the alien weapons – and their Earther counterparts.

Alien weapons that answered back an instant later.

Hastily retracked pulse laser batteries stitched lines into the hide of the Battlestar as remaining battleplate slagged and deformed. One of the remaining capital class batteries on the Galactica deformed and melted before one of its barrels shattered and electromagnetic rails flew apart from four pulse laser beams cleaving into it. Venting hydrogen instantly froze into a gaseous cloud that did nothing to mask over a dozen lasers etching white hot rents into the Galactica as some cored through the first layer of armor and sliced through the second belt – causing hull breaches near the ship's crew quarters.

The CIC watched the threat board as the deck continued its shaking beneath them and an occasional power surge flickered the lighting.

The volleys of slugs tracked across the distance of space like a wave of streaking comets as their secondary boosters fired their propellant – all the while energy readings spiked on the bow of the Covenant battlecruiser as it arrogantly maneuvered to face them head on.

They will cleave us in two with their energy projector – or splice us through with their Plasma Lances before that.

Energy collected into planet powering amounts on the alien warship as the plasma emitters shifted from torpedo mode and the plasma lances began to form.

Pulse laser cannons switched to fast tracking modes – targeting the individual slugs themselves.

8 ton slugs melted and deformed before exploding as still inert fissile material – wasted – was flung throughout the stars.

Only half of the initial volley survived as the Galactica emptied her remaining missile silos.

Magnetic launch rails flung the missiles - each the size of an old Earth ICBM - out of their launch tubes as their fission fragment nuclear thermal drives kicked on and their launch vehicles accelerated away from the Battlestar.

Energy gathered still along the Battlecruiser's flanks – right before disappearing behind the miniature brief stars of multi kiloton nuclear detonations against its shields.

Defensive screens shimmered and enveloped the alien warship as Adama watched the Covenant CCS class nearly disappear for an instant – spinning on the main viewscreens as the eerie view of the planetary environment on the inside ring of the alien structure circled beneath.

Nearly 100 kilotons of nuclear fireballs had detonated against the shields of the enemy warship.

Firepower that would have shattered any Colonial warship or at the least left the largest Battlestar a non functional slagged mess.

The alien warship laughed it off.

The Covenant Battlecruiser reappeared from behind its shimmering defensive screens and sent the first of what would be several Plasma lances spearing like a scythe towards the spinning Galactica.

There was nothing that they could do – just hold on and pray to whatever deities the human crew believed in.

Another volley from the Galactica's main guns rocketed away from the Battlestar's main guns just as the Plasma lance – the Covenant's weapon of choice at ranges under 100,000 kilometers – struck.

A magnetically focused C-fractional beam of death and star hot blue tinged plasma cleaved into the Galactica in between two of primary sublight fusion drives.

Armor boiled and vaporized in an instant before kinetic energy carried by superheated particles moving a tens of thousands of kilometers per second imparted their energies. Spearing through decks, armored hulls, engines, magnetic field generators and people the beam shot out the other side of the Battlestar before fading out of existence. All in the span of a second.

A multi meter wide hole – billowing wavering superheated atmosphere and still spreading plasma spall – exploded into existence as a percentage of each huge sublight fusion drive had their mass vaporized.

The Battlestar heaved and was blown kilometers off course as her spine buckled.

Two of her main drives instantly were nearly blown apart as power flickered – the Battlestar's Tokamak fusion reactors nearly loosing containment from the stress as magnetic fields and gigantic shock absorbers built into the superstructure of the ship groaned as they compressed.

The CIC was chaos as crew audibly screamed – all but Cortana's holodeck and the Chief's suit's flights lighting the CIC for several seconds.

Gravity plating yet again gave out for far longer – with the crew strapped into their seats holding on tight and those – like the senior crew – grabbing handrails as they lifted off the deck.

The Master Chief crouched, light glinting off of the oversized assault rifle – an MA2D – as his magnetic boots held him in place.

"Frak!" hold on!" Tigh shouted as the power flickered and came back on – klaxons wailing and smoke filling the CIC as emergency ventilation kicked on.

The Viewscreens and Holographic display from Cortana came back online just in time for the crew to see the results of Cortana's fire control and endless tactical calculations.

The nuclear missiles burned bright as their launch vehicles accelerated to a dozen kilometers per second - prematurely separating into each of the dozen submunitions of independent maneuvering kill vehicles.

The independent warhead vehicles lit their second stage Nuclear Salt Water Boosters and rapidly rocketed forward towards their terminal stages - with preprogrammed detonation points targeting the entire Covenant shielding field hugging the battlecruiser's hull.

The warheads had separated from their first stage vehicles just in time for all seven nuclear fission fragment missile cores to be speared and sliced apart by fast tracking pulse laser fire.

The Galactica's second and third salvo streaked through space in agonizingly long seconds as one after another slugs were tracked and destroyed by the Covenant defensive lasers. Amongst the nuclear rounds eight conventional non nuclear rounds from the Battlestars guns that were loaded with multi kill impactors jettisoned their submunitions and began their timed multi-vector "attack run" on the Covenant Battlecruiser.

Another bang resounded and the deck under Adama's feet heaved.

And with it Tigh cut in.

"Power fluctuations across the whole ship! We can't take another one like that!"

"Thrust down thirty percent and venting atmosphere. All bulkheads sealed. We have got men trapped in the aft section but Tyrol and his team is about the closest survivors I can estimate. Loosing power to our aft main batteries!"

Adama watched the display as gravity slowly came back – gritting his teeth while falling back to the deck as gracefully as his old body would let him.

Come on you bastard

Colonial slugs, both Nuclear and kinetic - winked off of Cortana's display at an alarming rate just as another plasma lance gathered its energy.

The Battlecruiser disappeared behind the first of the nuclear slugs with a smattering of inconsequential kinetic impactors and multiple kill vehicles amongst them all but hidden from sight by nuclear starbursts detonating against the alien energy shields. Yet more billowing balls of plasma and radiation enveloped the CCS Battlecruiser behind its defensive screens.

The enemy vessel almost mockingly reappeared as energies faded while another spear of energy gathered at a second primary plasma emitter on the dorsal hull.

Pulse lasers again shot forth and downed half of the maneuvering nuclear submunitions from the Galactica's exhausted stockpile of nuclear missiles – reducing them by over half in a flash.

This was their last shot - if this salvo didnt kill the Covenant Battlecruiser they would be cored stem to stern.

Adama did not dare to blink as he tracked what was left of their munitions, nuclear slugs, kinetics and thermo-nuclear missiles entered their terminal stage a heartbeat from impact.

Then – at once – the alien defenses relented as another trio of nuclear shells impacted as one with the remaining balance of the Galactica's depleted nuclear warheads.

The alien vessel disappeared behind starburst after starburst of nuclear hellfire as kilotons, then megatons, then double digit megatons - of point blank nuclear flame and light burst forth.

All of it taking place within a second as a brief beam of a Plasma Lance shot forth from the momentary sunburst and hit the Galactica's damaged starboard flight pod as she tried in vain to maneuver.

The beam struck the connecting pylon between the retractable flight pod and the main hull….all but coring through the trailing aft truss's superstructure in an instant.

Shrapnel exploded and ballooned outwards as Tylium bunkers on the starboard side vented and their heavily armored containment vessels went critical.

It was only expertly designed blowout shafts that kept the Battlestar intact as her starboard side lit with flame while the Galactica entered an uncontrollable spin.

Her fusion drives desperately tried to correct the roll as more secondary explosions took more of the ruined flight pod with it.

The starfield on the main viewscreens already spinning and the crew in the CIC thrown to the deck yet again the DRADIS display went dark – leaving only the primary IRST sensors and port side cameras to capture the fate of the offending Covenant capital ship.

60 megatons of fire and light unleashed their brief fury against the shields – and a single expertly aimed nuclear shell from Cortana – fired from one of the remaining bow guns as the Battlestar – snuck through the section of lowered Covenant shields and detonated against the hull.

Assaulted from nuclear forces both against the shields and within the hull the point blank detonations overwhelmed the alien warship.

Plasma emitters and pulse laser mounts vaporized as the hull melted and ablated out into space while the shields collapsed – the dying energy shields acting as a focus for the nuclear detonations that blowtorched their way through exposed ports and armor gaps.

Both warships staggered and spun in space as they both succumbed to their exchange of blows.

The Galactica's starboard pod flexed, deformed and ripped away from the tumbling main hull as emergency thrusters desperately fired to correct the tumble.

Debris were flung hundreds of kilometers as a growing shrapnel field formed.

Adama hung on as Duella's console blew out in her face – thankfully covering her arms and not her face with plastic shrapnel as she screamed in pain as blood splattered on her display.

Other unfortunate officers were thrown to the floor with sickening wet thunks as bones broke.

The power fluctuating, smoke filling the CIC – Adama and Tigh stared at each other with bewilderment.

Their faces said enough of what they were thinking.

The frak – we are alive…

The AI's avatar turned on her pedestal to face the Master Chief as he half rushed to the Holotank in a single bound.

"Status Cortana – are we close enough to the Ring to evacuate?"

Adama took one more look at the alien megastructure that now loomed in the viewscreen – its continents and beauty – and mystery – getting closer and closer as the enemy CCS cruiser went inactive. Its hellish energies dissipated from the few remaining sensors.

The alien vessel – burned and battered – began its own tumble through the gravity well of the gas giant and alien megastructure as laps of small bluish secondary explosions danced along its torched hull.

"We have only emergency power as the reactors scrammed – running on backup fission gas core reactors. I put her into a decaying orbit along the clockwise rotation of the ring." Cortana responded as a worried look crossed her eyes.

"All we can do is ride her down and abandon ship. I can have a copy of myself guide her mass in as best as we can to crash land as much of the ship as possible in one of the more shallow lakes I have spotted to give us somewhere to hold up and scavenge what we can from."

Adama cleared his through as emergency crews raced to help wounded and groaning officers around him – Gaeta stood up holding the side of his head as blood splattered from a deep gash.

Saul Tigh raced to apply pressure as he shouted for a medic.

Adama grunted and turned to the AI and what was left of his senior staff.

"Launch the Vipers we have to act as an escort. We need something out there as we ride this wounded bird down to the surface of that ring."

"Its called Halo."

Cortana cleared her proverbial throat as she interrupted as the Admiral paused to glare at the AI, who continued unashamed.

"The Covenant – on their battle net – I managed to capture some messages on the high bandwidths, but they are calling it one thing. Halo – and I am gathering that they keep repeating the phrase, Great Journey over and over. UNSC forces over the course of our war have captured similar phrases before. Whatever it means, that thing we are about to crash land on is important to them."

The Master Chief turned in his hulking power armor , his golden intimidating visor turning to Adama and facelessly stared down.

"That means they want whatever is here – and we have to figure out what is so important here."

Klaxons still blaring Adama looked at the trashed remains of his CIC and his command – destroyed so quickly.

The last ride of the Old Girl indeed.

The DRADIS – by some miracle – winked back to life as static and interference filled the old analog interface as the damaged array went to automatic scans.

Four dozen contacts pinged back.

The sound was enough send a shiver down everyone's spine.

"Boarding craft! Dropships and Space Banshees incoming as escorts! The Covenant must have launched them before we knocked out their ship!"

The ghostly outlines of the familiar shielded pod like craft shot towards the mortally wounded Galactica, with dozens of Banshee interceptors among them.

Like sharks seeking their final kill – they crossed the short distance of space in moments.

"Launching now Dad!" Lee's voice rang on the remaining intercom speakers.

8 blue icons of Vipers – the last of the functioning strike craft the once proud Battlestar had left – flung down their magnetic launch rails and into the void one after the other along the lightly damaged port flight pod.

"We are going to give us some time. Get everyone to the evac ships now! You beautiful Frakkers are going to enjoy a nice ride on our Old Girl down into the atmosphere before you bail!" Kara Thrace's voice seconded.

Vipers poured refined Tylium into their direct fusion drives powered by their onboard Fission reactors – shooting into the void and vectoring towards the lead elements of the Covenant boarding party.

"They want to see what they get from our navigational computers." Cortana noted as she snapped her fingers.

"Cole Protocol initiated. I have wiped any trace of UNSC …and Colonial navigational markers from the database. My guess is that they either want the Arrow of Apollo or simply want to extract revenge by blade of a plasma sword for us ruining their pretty blue warship."

The lead elements of the remaining Vipers and Covenant boarding parties met and a swirling furball ensued on the displays.

John looked on and then down to Adama, he knew that Lee was out there right now.

"He is going to make it sir. Cortana has her subroutines in all of the Viper's Command Navigation Protocols. She has control as their co-pilots."

Indeed the Spartan's words were right, but no reassuring.

Vipers danced in space and performed maneuvers with G forces that were all but guaranteed to cause their human operators – lacking the advanced inertial dampeners of the Earthers, to black out.

Cortana was guiding them still – sending maneuvering paths and acting as a second set of eyes for the crews of the diminutive strike craft that she – and other UNSC AI s – had hacked into the Colonial subsytems through a backdoor that the Colonial fleet had no idea even existed.

Thank the gods they are on our side.

Streams of 30 mm cannon fire began to puncture and tear into the advanced Banshee squadrons as they scattered and fired back – thankfully far less dangerous than the true Covenant deep space strike craft, the much larger, faster and deadlier "Seraph" tear dropped shaped strike craft.

"Initial boarding craft to make contact in two minutes! I can do some maneuvering but we are pretty much a dead stick. We will have to fight them off." Tigh noted as he passed Gaeta onto one of the medics.

Adama turned to the Master Chief.

"Lets get off this ship and down to the surface."

The Supersoldier – his pale face still hidden behind that blasted golden visor – nodded as the armored behemoth reached on his back and shouldered the oversized Earth rifle, its underslung micro missile rotary launcher still not cleaned off from blue alien blood from the last encounter they had just escaped.

The Master Chief grabbed a magazine held within one of his wonderous suit's armored pouches on his thigh and slapped it in – cocking the weapon as it made an electric whirl that accompanied their strange caseless "Electrothermal" small arms as the Earthers called it.

More than adequate to cut shielded 8ft tall aliens in two.

"Yes sir."

Adama turned to his crew and saluted – taking in the faces of those who has served under him.

He owed them so much more than this.

He owed them everything.

Adama breathed in and exhaled – and took one last look on the viewscreens of the spinning unknown "Halo" megastructure that was soon to be their refuge.

"All Hands abandon ship!"

TO BE CONTINUED. PROLOGUE PART 2 is next.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND REVIEW.

YES THIS IS VERY MUCH AU Halo as my previous stories have been. I will include a timeline after the prologue is over of the backstroy for this version of the UNSC and the Covenant war.

Needless to say this is essentially a UNSC that is much more prepared for major conflict and is a composite version of its late war self from the original universe. While I will take some liberties and have some technical interpretations of my own regarding calcs, tech etc – I will strive to use as much lore as possible.

It just might be the higher end of what the UNSC had in the war. More capital ships like Marathon and Halcyon Cruisers, larger fleets, triple fire MACs, Spartan Lasers, Far more SPI armor and derivatives, Protoytpe suits, NOVA bombs etc.

I hope you review and enjoy.

It has been too long since I wrote and this story has been in m head for years. This is a complete rewriting and imagining of my old story – Halo Colonial Horizon from over a decade ago.