On board the Colonial Battlestar Galactica(BSG-75)
"Set Condition One across the fleet and launch Alert Vipers!" Bellowed a voice over the massive starship's PA system. Sat within the confines of the multi-tiered CIC, right in front of the rather analog tactical map, an elderly man with glasses watched as his tactical officers and Executive Officer moved pieces on the board as if they were playing a tabletop game. The quiet, distant thump of magnetic decoupling filled their ears while, overhead, four screens whined, displaying a three-dimensional minimap of the contacts around them.
"Five more DRADIS Contacts on approach, bearing two-two-niner, carom oh-eighteen! Basestars, sir!" The Officer in charge of their sensor suite barked out as the ship's commanders braced for one hell of a firefight. Around them, friendly IFFs slowly began to wink off as the survivors of the destruction of the Twelve Colonies jumped away. The Galactica veered, trying to bring her entire top deck weapon complement on the advancing swarm of enemy units.
"Gunnery, fire at will! Get a flak wall up!" The Commander of the ship, a handsome man with a sunken face and graying hair ordered as he arranged his glasses. Commander William Adama stared at the near-hundred contacts that now winked onto the screen of the DRADIS system, noting each smaller red dot marked a Cylon Raider. The Cylon had been relentless so far in their pursuit of the Fleet, which left them with little in terms of options to combat the hostile fleet. He lifted the com phone on his console and turned back to his officer, stating, "Dee! Get me Apollo and Starbuck!"
"Sir!" The girl snapped a salute, quickly engaging the comm system via her console.
The Colonel that acted as the ship's XO stared with wide eyes at the slew of contacts on the DRADIS. He spoke to Commander Adama, "Sir, these bastards have us surrounded! Fleet's barely making it out-system!" before leaning on the console. A thundering roar rippled throughout the ship, followed by the groaning of the Old Girl's superstructure and shakes that caused a lot of the crew to have to brace. Colonel Saul Tigh scratched the top of his balding head and said, "This is gonna be one hell of a fight, sir... And we've been getting those odd anomalies on our FTL Drives ever since we picked up that damn Alien artifact."
"I'm aware, Colonel. Let me know when the rest of the Fleet made it out-system," He told the man as he stared at the DRADIS continuously update with enemy and allied positions.
Outside, meanwhile, lilac tracers met scarlet ones as the hundreds of Cylon Raider craft bore down upon the maybe dozen or so Colonial Viper MARK II fighters. The sleek, well-built fighter craft, painted white with red stripes, powered their trio of engines and utilized RCS Thrusters to maneuver around them. On board the leading Viper, Captain Lee 'Apollo' Adama, son of the Commander, said, "All Pilots, on me! Starbuck, check our left, we got incoming, maybe a dozen!"
"I see'em!" Lieutenant Kara Thrace, callsing 'Starbuck' replied, her voice sounding off over the Wireless. She called out, "Duck, Hardball, on me!" then utilized puffs from her RCS thrusters to slow down, turn hard left and let her engines roar, her twin magnetic cannons rippling as she fired, eyes locked onto the first enemy fighter. Behind her, the two Pilots she'd called up to help her followed suit, six bursts raking the dozen or so Cylon Raiders. The first volley took maybe four of them out.
"Frak, they're moving fast..." Mumbled Apollo. He barked, "All craft, break formation and pick your targets! Make sure to watch each-other's backs!" then turned left on the stick, aiming for the lead Cylon. Bursts of blue zipped past his cockpit as he dived down to engage them. He veered toward Starbuck, utilizing puffs from his RCS thrusters and firing at a slew of Bandits.
Starbuck formed up with him, going over the wireless, "This sure is a frakload of toasters! We got any idea how they found us!?" and opening fire on a pair of Raiders. Lee replied with a negative huff, struggling under the Gees to avoid enemy fire. He returned a burst of his own, catching a Raider dad in the 'cockpit' area, causing the hull to split in two. He formed up with Starbuck again, the two sweeping the area ahead together.
"Apollo, Starbuck, this is Galactica Actual. Status report?" Commander Adama requested just as a burst caught one of their other Vipers dead-center. The airframe of the ship folded in on itself, the pilot inside cooked alive by fuel detonation. A quiet swear escaped Lee's lips as he tracked dozens of targets at the same time. He cut down two more Raiders in a burst.
Then, he replied, "This is Apollo! We're up to our necks in contacts and I'm losing a few pilots, sir! Send up the second wave!" as he veered away from Starbuck and flew 'low', dancing through the Galactica's own Flak net to avoid getting shot down by friendly fire. The fleet of Basestars around them fired their nuclear payloads continuously, with secondary anti-fighter missiles attempting to track through the clouds of black smoke and shrapnel.
"We're working on deploying the second squadron now. Fleet's still got two minutes before they're fully away," Adama warned. It wasn't long after that a dozen new friendly IFF DRADIS contacts appeared on their screens, the Reserve Vipers launching and swinging in to join the battle. Their Archer AAMs launched from their undercarriage, locked onto a squadron of Raiders and struck, detonating amidst the enemy fighters.
The reply was swift. Electronic jamming followed by the Cylons' own BVR AAMs striking three of the Reserve Squad's pilots. Apollo swore to himself and barked, "Starbuck, take the Reserves and get those Heavy Raiders off of the remaining ships!" to which Starbuck gave a grunt of confirmation, before veering hard left and taking lead of the squadron, weapons at the ready.
This was nuts, thought Apollo as he turned to face another dozen Raiders with maybe eight Vipers still alive behind him. The Basestars had reserves to launch by the hundreds at this point, with almost a hundred enemy craft already in play just ahead of him, moving around the Battlestar's flak net to try and get whatever nukes they had strapped onto themselves off.
He sideswiped two launchers with his reforming eight-bird flight, cutting them to ribbons through automatic fire and some daredevil piloting that Starbuck would be proud of. He brought about his craft, feeling the G-Forces pressing him into his chair as he aimed for another Raider and pulled the trigger. He watched the ammunition cut through it, cratering its armor before it folded in on itself.
He swore to himself, "Frak me, we'll run outta ammo at this rate..." before he banked right and powered engines. He radioed, "Actual, Apollo. Status on the jump!?"
"Nearly done, Captain. We have our own Solution ready and drives are spooled. Get ready for a hard landing," William replied with his terrifying calm. Situations like this never seemed to stifle his father. Hell, he was pretty sure the Old Man thrived in unwinnables like this one. He watched one of their few remaining nukes arc low, then dive up from the bottom of the Flak net and strike just underneath a Basestar, visibly shaking the damn thing. Was it inertia-guided, or did they somehow find a little hole through the Cylon's jamming? No time to wonder.
"Affirm. We'll be ready," He replied, then radioed, "All Vipers, reform around the Galactica and don't stray from it! Sphere formation, surround the Old Girl and be ready to dive into the Flight Pods!" then he turned about, pressing himself into his chair via almost ten gees of pressure through the fast spin. He boosted his ship's engines to maximum and lanced toward their mothership.
His eyes locked onto the Colonial One, President Roslin's civilian ship, a beautiful starliner whose paint looked only lightly chipped by the gunfire. Its jump drive spooled, but something was wrong. Where there was usually a bright white light enveloping the ship during jump, this light was blue, eerily dark and terrifying. That picosecond of him looking at it had felt like he was staring at the Devil's maw for a good few minutes.
When the confusion cleared, he saw he was near the Galactica and set up in defensive position with the rest. Shaking his head, he radioed, "Starbuck, did you see Colonial One's jump...?" as he arrayed himself with the defense group, forming up on the top layer of the ball, namely angling at around 339 degrees on the right, watching the flak volleys exploding hundreds of kilometers away from the ship to keep enemy nukes at bay.
"I didn't. Why?" The girl's voice sounded strained, but it was normal. She was pulling more Gees than most everyone else right now, trailing another Heavy Raider and laying into it like it was nobody's business. He could see the bullets rupture fuel lines, the brain connection to the ship and the crew aboard. Fuel spewed into the void from the engines of the craft, then ignited as Starbuck quickly made another pass.
Apollo sighed and replied, "Nevermind-FRAK!" freaking out only when a tracer line from one of the other Raiders nearly hit his cockpit. He brought his bird about in a rather risky maneuver with RCS thrusters and cooked the bastard with six shots to the cockpit and wings. He saw the bat-like automated fighter explode in a blaze of glory as he boosted his engine forward.
Kara sounded worried, "You good, Lee?!"
"Alive! Frakker nearly skimmed my cockpit off!" He replied, only to hear a short laugh from the girl. He rolled his eyes, then paused and said, "Keep your head in the game, Starbuck, we've got more!" only to bank right. A shot scratched the belly of his Viper and deflected off to the side, flying wild into the nothingness of the void. He answered, diving down on one that had shot at him and tearing him to shreds with a full salvo.
Another Viper exploded close to them, with Kara stating, "There goes Hardball! Son of a bitch..." angrily. The two formed back up with the rest of the squadron, before alarm bells started ringing in their helmets. Early warning that the Galactica was about to jump. Damn, that meant they were really rushing to get the hell outta here. Kara quickly checked her DRADIS and saw that they and their Mothership were the last Colonial vessels in the AO, with the Cylon Fleet slowly gaining more and more ships.
Apollo sighed and radioed, "All ships, HARD LANDING! We're getting the frak out of here!" before sending forward his Archers. Though unguided, the missiles would do well to at least stave off the advance of the Raiders, buy them the precious few seconds they needed to land, thought Apollo. The dozen or so remaining Vipers swung on their axes until their noses were facing the Flight Pod. Powering their engines to maximum, the Galactica's Air Group swung in.
Firing RCS to ensure proper landing, they dropped their magnetized landing gears and skidded to a halt on the unpressurized Pod. Apollo radioed, "Actual, this is Apollo! All Flights are on board! Get us the hell out of here!" then bracing as the pod folded into the sides of the Battlestar. He felt a sudden pit in his stomach, followed by what seemed to be an explosion of static in his com that made him nearly rip his helmet off his head and the suit collar with it.
His stomach felt like it turned inside out the moment the ship jumped...
Then, he passed out in his seat.
Research Outpost Anchor-014 'Prof. Laszlo Sorvad'
Border of Unified Earth Government Space, Unnamed Nebula
5th of April, 2559 UNSC Military Calendar
In a not-so-stunning turn of events, a familiar doctor had been brought under escort to the newest discovery of technology close to UEG Space. A small UNSC Presence resided at an outpost within a deep nebula on the Galactic South of the Orion Arm, fairly close to its bare base. Doctor Catherine Halsey watched as they approached the Anchor-type station built around the alien device, cradling it in a cage of Titanium alloy and in energy shielding.
Maybe sixteen ships were moored at this station, too, all of them attached to her via umbilicals. Nine were military. Five frigates, two Phoenix-class refit suport ships manned by the UNSC Marine Corps and two capital-class warships:A Cruiser, the Monroe, of the Valiant family, and the Carrier Midway, a decent fleet support carrier belonging to the Epoch-class family, her fanning 'wing' titanium plates concealing her hangars neatly under shadow.
A surprising amount of firepower to place around an alien device, the elderly Doctor Halsey thought as she pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. Ahead, through the Pelican shuttle's window, she could see the outline of the device. It was far stranger than Forerunner technology and shone neither like Hardlight, nor like their standard material. The symbols dancing on it felt much more ancient, headache-inducing even. There was a small black hole floating within, seemingly acting as either the centerpoint of the alien station's purpose, or as a power generator.
"This is Pelican Hotel Zero-Niner-Seven Heavy, approaching hangar zero-four as per order of Traffic Control," The female pilot of the Pelican spoke calmly as she brought them in nice and slow, only puffing from the bird's engines to ensure they were going in smooth. She turned to Doctor Halsey and all the elderly woman could see was the cold glass of an armored, opaque blue visor. The pilot then told her, "They're already waiting for you, ma'am. Secondary artifacts recovered during First Contact with the alien device require your presence."
"I will be right with the staff," The woman replied as she held onto her harness. She looked behind her, watching the Marines and ONI Security detail cradling their MA40 Assault Rifles. By 'ONI' she meant SPARTANs brought on by the Office of Naval Intelligence from the SPARTAN Branch. The sole four of them who weren't ONI's lackeys were very familiar faces to her.
Clad in a dark-green armor that blended almost perfectly with the Blood Tray's dimmed lighting, Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 looked over his own personal Battle Rifle model 75, racking the bolt back to ensure that the gun was working properly. He looked up at Doctor Halsey and gave a nod, to which she nodded back. As the Pelican gently swung in for landing on the hangar deck, her escorting Broadswords peeled off left and right.
As they touched down, Halsey was the first to undo her harness. Standing to her feet and patting down the labcoat she wore over a standard issue Navy jumpsuit, the woman watched as the rear hatch of the Pelican opened, letting the fluorescent white of the Anchor station's light flood into her retinae. She blinked, letting her glasses polarize as their HUD system, embedded within the thick frames, powered on.
A platoon of Marines and another Scientist were waiting for her. The two women, colleagues in the UNSC's scientific division, nodded to one-another as Halsey exited the transport, followed by her escort. She extended her hand to the woman and said, "It has certainly been a while since we've last seen each-other, Doctor Tillson," as she stared the long-faced, grey-haired woman in her green eyes.
"That it has, doctor. The Symposium in Sydney, if I recall," The woman replied kindly, showing the Doctor to follow her. As they walked through the station's halls, doctor Tillson told her, "I quite enjoyed your presentation on the history of the Forerunners. The added evidence to the fact of inter-service rivalries and the issues faced during the rather tumultuous war with that unknown enemy you mentioned multiple times was a fascinating boon to furthering my own research on the matter of the Composer."
Halsey nodded, "I am glad to hear that. The Composer has been the talk of the entire scientific community for the past two years, ever since you recovered it off of Installation 03... Though I am more interested in that," and she pointed at the massive alien structure containing a black hole. She leaned against a railing and looked out through the centimeters-thick reinforced glass, asking, "What is that Black Hole exactly?"
Tillson shrugged, "Preliminaries said it might've been artificially made, a portal of some sort. Right now, many of our newfound youngsters suggest the item might actually just be powered by that micro-black hole," and the two women took a moment to watch the strange dark nothingness pulsating within its containment chamber. She added, "Though the items attached to this device are the most interesting thing..."
"Lead me to them, then," Halsey replied. The pair walked through the confines of the station, further into a central lobby. Halsey watched the crews milling about, both civilian and military, discussing matters such as the tech while sat on couches or around tables. She, however, didn't care for that. Approaching a small altar in the back of the room, placed below an emblazoned two-dimensional display of Earth and flanked by two flags, one of the UNSC's eagle and the other, of the UEG's Earth and Laurel Wreath, she stopped. In the holographic picture placed upon the wall, an elderly man with slicked-back, greying hair, sharp eyes and a thick, smooth beard stood, parka with his obscured tag on.
A name plate below read 'Professor Laszlo Sorvad, 2490-2552'. She sighed deeply, placed a hand on it, then nodded to her old friend's portrait, before showing Tillson to lead the way. Further in, they came upon a corridor leading to the cradle that held the alien device in its metallic embrace. Marching through it, the women came upon the laboratory where staff was studying the technology. Tillson told her, "We found a large cache of ancient technology, older than even the Forerunners, attached to that station. The only thing that might seem familiar is what appears to be a control console..."
And, indeed, amidst the pedestals and tables where scientists buried their faces into the newfound alien tech, or in computers to help examine said tech, which did not bear any sort of familiar motif to that of the Forerunners, they saw it. A holographic console, shaped into a quarter-disk and with various familiar, in fact Forerunner, symbols floating around it.
Halsey stopped in front of the console, which seemed to almost greet them, glowing a vibrant color. Tillson watched eagerly as her colleague seemed to be examining the device, forming hypotheses and- "It's a control console," Halsey interrupted her thoughts. She looked at Tillson and told her in her usual deadpan, "Similar to the ones found on most Halo installations and the two Forerunner Shield Worlds we've run into so far. It is, however, certainly more intricate."
"How so?" The other doctor asked.
Halsey pointed at several variable geometry holographic protrusions and a winding, almost synthesizer-like line in the center console, stating, "These seem to be tracking some sort of... Displacement, maybe tonnage or..." then scratching her chin, "And this line here. It's a power drain. It seems to have plateaued long ago, courtesy of that black hole within. Your youth hires were right, doctor. That artificial event horizon is the power source."
"It's good to know one hypothesis was confirmed," Tillson replied in a murmur, then asked slightly more loudly, "How do you figure, however?" all while watching Doctor Halsey work her magic, her hands gently dancing on the console's hopefully non-important bits. Still, Halsey seemed to have an inkling of an idea of what she was doing, if one was to go and look at her tablet, which had a Lexicon of all Forerunner symbols on it.
"The power draw is surprisingly continuous," Halsey replied, "Add to that there might be systems here to control input and output and..." then she sighed, "John. I require Cortana's help here. This seems like it might be important enough to warrant her presence-" and she paused as the Spartan approached almost islently, handing her the chip. She watched Cortana manifest from it, the AI made from a clone of her brain smiling at the woman. She greeted, "Good to see you again, Cortana... Ready?"
"As ever," She replied proudly. She looked to John, who seemed tense, then said, "Relax. I'll be fine. Been in one of these before, remember?" And she had been, multiple times. It was probaby why John himself was as uneasy on the matter as Halsey was. The two, however, had perfectly good poker faces, which annoyed Cortana a little. She told Halsey, "Put me in. Let's see what this is about."
Halsey nodded and, without hesitation, slid Cortana's chip into a protruding slot of hard-light. When it connected, a blue wave rippled through the Console, like a droplet of water disturbing a pond. It took a minute for the Console's normal myriad of colors to return, though, with Cortana appearing as a holographic display about as tall as Halsey, her eyes surprisingly wide. Halsey raised a brow, asking the unspoken question.
Cortana, to her credit, maintained her composure as she spoke, "This is a gateway, doctor. An FTL Gateway of some kind," and she pulled up a few diagnostics screens that showed everything in more clear-cut detail and in English. Cortana crossed her arms, eyes still wide, then said, "According to Lexicon Translations we have, the Forerunners called this thing an 'Unbroken Filament', or a 'Star Road'. A direct gravitational link between two points in space and maybe even time... And this Console is the only thing that is Forerunner. Like an Afterthought."
"Incredible," Tillson murmured, "Are you sure?"
"Sure as I am of my name, doc Tillson..." Cortana mumbled, then added more sharply, "Power output's currently minimal. This thing's outputting somewhere around a hundred thousand Terrawatts of power and it's at its lowest. It's..." only to take a second to blink, surprised, then state, "It's on sleep mode. Not active right now," before she looked deeper into it. Both Tillson and Halsey stared with interest as the AI's azure avatar glowed with the colors of the Console.
"... Can you change that?" Halsey asked. Cortana looked to Halsey with a raised brow, then simply nodded. Halsey gave her approval to Cortana in the form of her own nod of the head, then she looked at Blue Team and ordered, "Get the Captain of the Sahara-class Prowler we have instated here. I will send a message to Lord Hood that we may have made an interesting breakthrough and are going to investigate it."
"Doctor...?" Chief asked, concerned.
Halsey nodded, "It will be fine, John. Progress demands experimentation," She told him, then looked to Tillson and stated rather matter-of-factly, "We'll take the Prowler and have Rear Admiral Coulson's local fleet on standby to help us... Provided our FTL Com can even travel through this 'Star Road'. That is, if Cortana can activate it," before looking to the AI.
Cortana replied, "Already working on it. There's some complex algorithmic work going on in ensuring the proper power output," then she looked to Halsey, "And making sure the event horizon doesn't breach containment and eat us all alive," and smirked. Halsey hummed, then nodded in approval, much to the horror of Tillson and a few other scientists that had gathered to watch.
"John?" Halsey looked to him, then said, "Immediate orders from your ONI Director. Get that Prowler ready," to which the Spartan, surprised that Halsey would pull rank, snapped a salute. He stepped off with Blue Team to the docking area where the Sahara-class Prowler Blue Job was. Halsey, meanwhile, turned to watch the Artifact ahead of them as its frames and boons started to dance. It shifted, danced, the black hole within the power facility grew almost a hundredth of a Stellar Radius and power output started flowing. The two component parts of the 'Star Road's containment pried themselves apart and an azure portal started to swirl in the middle.
Thunder and lightning echoed almost audibly even in the void. Then, the portal, a black hole with an azure, water-like outline and texture, coalesced...
Outer Rim
Near the Unknown Regions
Aboard the Republic Imperator-I, Bloc 0 Star Destroyer Chimaera
Usually, the assignment of a significant Republic Task Force to an area of operations meant an arrangement of forces the likes of which made the hostile reconsider their probability of success. With the automated forces of the Confederacy, however, the Droids rarely ever ordered a firm retreat. This area of operations, however, was not a standard operation, nor just a normal patrol.
Staring out from the wide, armored bridge of one of the newest warships of the Republic Navy, surrounded by both Clone and Human officers, a blue-skinned man with burning red eyes arranged his grey uniform, tugging at the collars and straightening out the pins on the left of his chest. He was handed a tablet by a Clone officer on the ship, which he took with a simple, but kind nod.
He'd read the reports of the recent discovery around fifteen times, but still couldn't believe something. The described alien technology was millennia older than anything they'd discovered so far, regardless of its origins. Many speculated it might have gone beyond the earliest known histories of the Galaxy, even before the Republic itself. The small science staff and the garrison assigned to the planetoid next to said device also reported hearing things.
Many were dismissed as simple prolonged isolation-relayed symptoms. Still, when Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo, known to many of his peers simply as Thrawn, was ordered by the Chancellor himself to jump to the barren Dromos system, he felt a strange sensation deep within his stomach. Like they weren't supposed to be here at all, or that, if they were, they were about to make the strangest and probably most Galaxy-shaping discovery in the past few centuries.
"Exiting Hyperspace in five, four, three, two, one," A human officer on board spoke. Ahead of them, Hyperspace momentarily glowed, going from its usual whirling, cloudy teal to a bright white, before the blinding white dissipated, revealing the surprisingly small Neutron Star ahead of them, its whirling electromagnetic coronas situated in the North and South. The officer looked up at Thrawn and said, "We've arrived, sir."
"Very well... Make for Dromos II. Best speed," He ordered, staring ahead at the star's azure spinning coronas. He saw almost a dozen more ships appear around him. Two supporting arrowhead-shaped Venators with indents for the hangars, a squadron of five Arquitens-class light ships and a few supporting non-combat vessels including tankers full of Tibanna. The Chancellor had made it extensively clear that the Artifact was important enough to warrant stationing them there with extra supplies.
The system, though, was barren, like said. Three planets, all of them ice balls containing Helium-3 in large quantities beneath the glass-like sheen of the ice and the biting cold of the surface. Dromos II was the largest of these, surprisingly. Located in what would usually be the habitable zone, this ice ball was home to the least invasive and dangerous conditions in the system.
It was also where the strange alien artifact orbited. A black hole seemed to be housed within it, a terrifying display of its builders' might. The white alloy shined even in this lifeless void of a location, glowing symbols dancing on its body like paintings of old. Thrawn scratched his chin, interested, then heard from his com officer, "Sir, Science Staff is requesting permission to come aboard the Chimaera. They have new reports."
"Permission granted. Tell them to head for the lower hangar," He replied professionally. He turned to his XO and ordered, "Commander Pellaeon, you have the conn," only to receive an affirmative reply and a salute. He saluted back, then marched toward the starship's turbolift. The Imperator-I Bloc 0 was truly one of the newest ship designs. Not many of them had been built.
Wide halls, good for the crew and hidden deep beneath layers of armor and protected by deflectors. He did not feel a hint of claustrophobia as he walked through the area, meeting with Clone Troopers along the way. As he descended down to the last deck of the ship, he was met with the sight of a landed Republic shuttle in on the Hangar deck's black, reflective flooring. Around them, in separate hangars, lay fighters, bombers, support craft, dropships and even Walkers. The hangar was massive enough to possibly fit a pair of Ambassador-class starships.
He saw the science staff, human and alien alike, turn to greet him. They all waved, with the lead researcher approaching Thrawn. He greeted, "Good afternoon, Admiral! It's certainly been a while since we've had visitors at our fine little establishment," only to add, "I'll get straight to the point, seeing as I'm aware you are a busy man! The Artifact we discovered? It is certainly much more ancient than originally thought possible! Nearly ten million years old, in fact!"
"... Ten million," Thrawn replied, "It seems strangely new in looks."
"The vacuum of space doesn't allow for much decay," The man replied, then asked, "May I join you on the bridge? My staff will probably return to the outpost..." to which Thrawn replied with a nod. The two started walking back through the massive Republic warship, with the Doctor explaining, "The sheer magnitude of the power output this station has, even on minimal power, is incredible! The event horizon contained within the station itself is the generator."
"An interesting show of strength by the creators of the device, then?" Thrawn hummed, "How is it still retaining power?"
The Doctor answered, "Simply put, it just is. We're still looking into its capabilities, but we do have a few theories as to what it might be," then he and Thrawn entered the Turbolift. The Admiral looked at him, waiting for him to continue, to which the Doctor stated, "We think it might either be part of a greater network of defense stations, built around the Unknown Regions to keep something out. We've detected hints of a possible barrier surrounding our galaxy, too, but that is speculation right now."
"A Barrier...?" Thrawn hummed, "The Chancellor will want a full report, but carry on with the other 'options', Doctor."
"Of course," The man replied, then arranged his glasses onto the bow of his nose and added, "A second option would be a Terminus. An endpoint for a much, much larger network of interconnected tunnels. We find that the most likely, considering there's traces of... Well, almost a whole new set of Hyperlanes, perhaps, behind the device's operational capacity. We have also found a computer connected to it, but have been unable to translate any of the symbols. We have no equivalent in any Republic database, ancient or not!"
Thrawn supposed, "Perhaps it is of extra-galactic make, then, though that wouldn't explain this theorized 'barrier' you've detected," and the two arrived on the bridge. The Doctor nodded almost enthusiastically, probably glad Thrawn was engaging in this kind of discussion with him. Science, as much as art, was a necessity to understand any foe, Thrawn thought to himself, but it was also a matter of understanding how his ships operated that kept him close to science.
"Indeed! I would not be surprised if that was the case... Though the alien console connected to the device is strange, too," Added the Doctor, a little moment of clarity hitting him. He told the Admiral next, "It's barely a hundred thousand years old. It was also guarded by a lone automated defense drone, but, sadly, said drone self-destructed when we attempted to stun it and take it for studies."
"Shame," Thrawn mumbled, "What would a hundred-thousand-year-old console be doing linked to an alien device a hundred times its age?"
"We don't know! Perhaps some other ancient alien civilization utilized this device beforehand!" The doctor was terrifically excited. He must've missed having people to engage with, or had gotten bored of his crew. Interesting, Thrawn thought, but regardless, the Doctor continued, "I'd love to keep studying it, maybe even attempt to turn it on with the Chancellor's permission!"
"We will contact him soon," Thrawn replied, "Though, for now, I want to know as much as possible about this device."
The Doctor eagerly nodded, continuing to brief Thrawn about the intricacies of the Alien Device ahead of them. The more he listened, however, the more Thrawn could understand that it was fairly likely this was some sort of Gateway. But a Gateway to what, exactly, some sort of alien world, perhaps? They'd heard of ancient technology-filled worlds being hidden behind similar artifacts in the past, but to see one up close was interesting.
Whatever was probably beyond that thing would lead them to a treasure trove. Thrawn was sure of it. Or, well, no, it was the first time in his life he was not sure of anything. Located in such a desolate place, looking as pristine as it did, being as old as it was and being linked to a device infinitely younger than it in the grand scheme of the galaxy's history? Worried was a better word for what Thrawn felt.
He, however, paused all of his thoughts, his concern only intensifying as the sensor officer reported, "Admiral, sir! Power buildup within the device! It's... Activating...!" only for them to watch it. Ripples of energy formed within the gate as its two sections split, revealing a portal that slowly opened itself to their sight, a spherical whirlwind of what looked almost like water.
The Admiral blinked, then spoke over com, "Doctor, did any of your men touch anything?"
"N-No! Haha! It powered on its own! Like it just got a 'turn on' signal from somewhere!" The cheer in the doctors' voices and cheers was audible. Thrawn blinked, then sighed and decided it was no time to pause on this matter. The Chancellor had sent him here for a reason. He looked at his com officer and, with sole hand motion, ordered him to call the Chancellor on a secure line ASAP.
It seemed as though this little exploration task force had not been formed for naught.
On board the SSV Normandy SR-2.
Current Location:Terminus Systems
2185
Despite the Cerberus markings, the Normandy was still a ship commanded by an Alliance Officer. Never was that more apparent than when Reveille played across the ship's Public Announcement system, waking the dozens of crew to get them to their stations. The warship, itself an upgrade on the SR-1 series Stealth Frigate made with both Turian and Human technology added upon it, was a sleek, beautiful design with more 'humane', less military accommodations.
Nowhere was that more apparent than the Crew Deck, where there was a kitchenette, a nearby medical bay where doctor Karin Chakwas, the elderly medical officer of the crew, was working on her usual, and an office on the opposite side of the ship where the 'boss' of the Alliance Officer in charge of this vessel was currently busy doing paperwork for them.
Commander Samantha Shepard, Sam for short, a blonde-haired beauty with blue eyes, had descended from her own cozy room, which was at the top of the starship on Deck 1, down to this deck in order to grab herself her morning mug of coffee. Though she still looked a little rough, courtesy of her just having woken up, the black-white-grey uniform with the Cerberus logo on her shoulders still worked well on her frame and she seemed fairly fresh.
"Gardner," She greeted the man sat behind the cooking station. The kitchenette itself actually looked more like a proper apartment kitchen, containing everything from countertops, to an induction stove and electric oven, as well as a massive fridge. She watched the man activate the coffee maker and told him, "Don't suppose you got those ingredients we bought."
"I did, Commander," He nodded, scratching the top of his bald head, over which the man unironically wore a hair net. It was kind of hilarious. He handed her her mug of coffee, then said, "Sure stopped the idiots from complaining now that we got actually decent grub," before casting a sidelong glance at a pair of the Ship's crew who were off-duty, eating breakfast. The two men shrunk under the Mess Sergeant's gaze and he smirked proudly at that, then turned to Shepard and asked, "What's on the docket today?"
"More patrols until the 'boss'," Shepard said that last word sarcastically and even emphasized it, "Sends us more intel to work with. It's been a dry spell ever since we were done with Omega," then she leaned against the counter and sipped from the fresh, warm brew. Letting out a breath of contentment at the bitter, acidic, but still enthralling taste, she said, "Good brew."
"Thanks," Gardner grinned, then turned back to cooking, "Got that one specifically because I knew it was a favorite among the Military. 'Death Wish' or something."
Shepard snorted. Ah, yeah. 'Death Wish', the sole coffee with enough caffeine to actually send someone into cardiac arrest in the Alliance Navy. So the rumors went, anyway. She replied to him, "Glad to know you know us that well, Sarge. Godspeed with the Cooking," then straightened up and started walking toward the elevator. On the way, however, she met the other beauty on the ship, a young woman with a beautiful face, wavy black hair and a body well-accentuated by the black-and-white tightsuit she wore. Shepard greeted her, "Miranda."
"Commander," The woman replied in a murmur, face still buried in a datapad she was analyzing.
As they boarded the elevator, the holographic door lock going green and opening the moment it detected both of their IDs through their specialized Omni-Tools, the Commander asked, "Anything new sent by the Man? Any leads we can go off of?" with a hint of a joke. She was referring to the Illusive Man, obviously. Miranda looked up, lips razor thin, then shook her head, to which Shepard let out a sigh, "Another day of patrols it is. Hope we won't get caught with our pants down..." then hit the button for Deck 02, the CIC and Bridge.
"Thankfully, the SR-2's sensor suites and stealth should prevent that," Miranda shot back. She sighed and lowered the Datapad, before noting, "Did you just wake up?"
Shepard nodded, then confessed, "First day in a while I got a chance to sleep in. Mind you, it's still barely 7AM ship time..." and watched as the elevator doors slid open, revealing the sprawling Combat Information Center. Dozens of orange holographic consoles lined the walls and the central display area, where the ship's design and 'upgrade progress' was visible. Several sections glowed blue, including the newly-mounted Thanix Cannon and the upper deck armor and reinforced Kinetic Barrier emitters.
A redhead with short hair turned about and saluted, smiling brightly, "Commander, miss Lawson," and lowering her hand when Shepard gave a salute and a nod back. She said, "You have no new messages today, Commander... Like the last three days," before turning back to her console. The Commander let out a mirthless laugh at that, probably bored out of her mind, then walked up to the Galaxy Map. The swirling arms of the Milky Way appeared ahead of her, showing multiple important locations and visited sites, with a history list floating right beside her.
"Thanks, Kelly..." Shepard sighed, eyeing Omega in the Terminus and wondering if she should just take the crew there on a break, or head to the Citadel for it. She stepped off from the pedestal in front of the Galaxy map and told Miranda, "Maybe we scared them off," as a joke. Unimpressed, Cerberus's Guardian for Shepard raised a brow and shook her head in reply. Shepard sighed and mumbled, "I was just joking..."
They passed through the massive central corridor, where gunnery, sensors and other stations were placed by the sides of the catwalk, then approached the bridge, only to find their pilot arguing with their AI again. The brittle-boned Jeff 'Joker' Moreau quipped, "... Look, all I'm saying is, it'd be pretty cool if you could take the form of... I dunno, a hot babe or something. Maybe then you wouldn't be so annoying to talk to!"
"I much prefer this holographic form. I feel it is much more approachable," The Enhanced Defense Intelligence, EDI, for short, replied in a deadpan, her strange football trophy-like shape never once changing, save for the vertical synthesizer running down her hologram's length moving as she spoke. Shepard liked EDI. She was a nice foil to Joker in many ways.
Joker rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Of course, the bot would think a literal lightbulb's more approachable than a chick..." then paused as he felt a hand land on his chair, causing his entire being to shiver. He was thankful he managed to stop it before it broke any of his bones, but looked up and saw Shepard staring at him with a grin. He greeted, "Oh, hey, Commander. And Miranda."
"Joker," Chuckled Shepard, "You and EDI ever gonna get along?"
"When I'm dead, probably," Joker joked. Shepard looked back at Miranda partially apologetically(Though not really. Miranda was a bit annoying), then looked ahead at the Gas Giant they were flying by. He said to her, "Hey, Commander, what's the chance we can get some new coffee? Gardner gave me some Death Wish yesterday and I shook so hard I think I chipped a tooth. Haven't had a cup since."
Shepard snorted, "You'll pry that coffee from my cold, dead, biotic power-fueled hands, Jeff," which got a short laugh out of Joker himself. Understandably enough, Shepard quite enjoyed having her heart rate go over 200 BPM. That was a rough estimate she'd given herself, but it was probably wrong. Chakwas never confirmed anything, either, but alas.
"Anything on sensors, EDI?" Miranda asked, more focused on the business aspect here.
EDI replied monotonely, "The Gas Giant we are currently flying beside and four other in-system planets. That is all," while her sensor suite continued to beep away, scanning. Miranda sighed deeply, not knowing if she should be thankful for not finding anything. The AI then let out a hum, paused and said, "Stand by... Detecting gravitational interferences ahead. Not matching orbital interference from the gas giant."
"... Set us to yellow alert and be ready. We might have something coming in. Stealth drives up?" Shepard asked, staring ahead at the space between them and the gas giant. She could see something near by the gas giant, flickering to life, shining, though she couldn't quite make it out. Joker gave a thumbs up as the ship started running silent, the muffled alarm of the vessel echoing through the PA. The Commander licked her lips, staring ahead at the rippling space.
They were several thousand kilometers away, still. EDI spoke, "Unknown device on the far side of the giant detected. It's emitting incredible amounts of energy... Stand by for-" And a flash of light blinded everyone. When their vision cleared, however, proximity alarms started screaming. EDI spoke with a spine-chilling amount of concern in her voice, "... New contacts on Sensors!"
As their vision cleared, the crew of the SSV Normandy soon saw them. Stood bow-to-bow with them, hundreds of vessels of different shapes had suddenly materialized out of thin air. From arrowhead-shaped vessels bearing grey hulls with red stripes, to massive black armor blocks with guns strapped to them, to civilian-looking vessels and even a luxury liner or two.
"Joker..." Shepard whispered, "We may wanna start moving away-" only to freeze as the sensors suddenly picked up weapons charges. Shepard read the screen and went pale as snow, eyes widening as she saw the possible output of the armed vessels. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, then shuddered, fearful and mumbling, "Please, for the love of God, tell me they haven't spotted us..."
... Com systems suddenly blared to life, as did sensor warnings. They saw them.