Disclaimer: ownership of intellectual properties belongs to their respective owners. (i.e. Halo to Bungie/343 industries and Microsoft and Battlestar Galactica to Universal) this work of fiction is merely an exercise in creative writing and gains me no monetization.

Deep space

In a spiral galaxy one of its inhabitants calls the Milky way, in between its interstellar arms, in the void between stars, an object floated aimlessly. Made of metal, ceramics, and bullet proof glass, the Colonial raptor emited almost no signs of life. Only light from distant starts reflecting of its canopy betrayed its existence to anyone looking hard enough. For all intents and purposes, it was dead in space. Yet inside its inhabitants lived and worked diligently, knowing full well the importance of their task as a scout.

"I am detecting no signature of any kind," Lieutenant Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson declared from her seat in the back of the raptor. She kept a close eye on the DRADIS screen just in case her statement jinxed them.

"Same here, Racetrack, nothing but background radiation," Replied Hamish "Skulls" McCall from the co-pilot's seat. "Looks like a good place to jump."

"Alright then," Racetrack said making her way to the front of the multirole space craft. "Spin up the FTL and let's get back to the fleet. I'm getting hungry."

Skulls gave her an odd look as she strapped herself in. "You do know we have rations back there, right?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah but I kinda want hot food in me, not that pre-packaged stuff they call food."

"Hot yes, but I wouldn't call that garbage they serve in the mess food," Skulls chuckled but stopped when he realized that this was another indication of how dire their situation was. Fresh produce, along with many other things the two pilots once took for granted, was now a thing of the past thanks to the destruction of the 12 colonies. The atmosphere in the cockpit quickly became sombre as they both drew on that realization.

"Yeah," Racetrack sighed. "It's better than cold rations though. Maybe I can ask for some fresher stuff from Pegasus, or one of the other ships."

"Yeah, and maybe the Admiral will buy me a room on Cloud 9 with the finest bottle of aged Caprican Ambrosia." Skulls let out a genuine laugh.

"Frak you!" Racetrack replied laughing along. She entered the coordinates of the fleet as the control panel indicated ready to jump. "Jumping in five... Four... Three... Two... Jump!"

Both pilots felt the simultaneous stretching and compressing of local spacetime until, like a rubber band snapping, the space craft disappeared in a flash of light. Space folded, flexed, twisted, and bent as the craft was catapulted back to its mother ship. In a blink the Raptor's cockpit was filled with the ragtag collection of surviving ships from the 12 colonies. At the heart of the fleet the ship they targeted for landing, the Galactica.

Raptor 307 was back.

UNSC Infinity

Slipspace transit

On Earth's most advanced warship, Captain Thomas J. Lasky leaned against the holotable with one hand on a data pad. As UNSC Infinity'sbridge crew worked around him, he mentally blocked the ambient sounds, re-reading the mission briefing on the pad. On it were instructions for the new Captain to take the Infinity back on her original mission— finding the remaining Halo installations— before she crash-landed on Requiem.

The memories of those events were still fresh on Lasky's mind. Events that led to finding the legendary Master Chief. Events that led to the Didact being released and attacking earth. Events that led to the death of the AI Cortana. Events that led to his current position as captain of the most powerful ship in the galaxy.

Lasky was so deep in thought of those events that he had glossed over the last few paragraphs on the data pad. Sighing he placed the pad on the holotable before rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Penny for your thoughts, Captain," Came an electronic voice behind him as the foot-tall orange avatar of a world war 2 bomber materialized on the holotable's display surface.

"Not much, Roland," Lasky turned around to face the ship AI. "Just wondering how I found myself in command of this." He gestured to the holographic representation of the 5.7-kilometre-long leviathan.

"Sir, if you're doubting your capabilities, I can assure you that you are more than qualified to be in command," The AI assured the captain. A sense of concern came over the AI's avatar-face. Having a commanding officer questioning his own merits would not be conducive to the overall function of the ship.

"No, not that," Lasky raised a placating hand to the AI's concern. "I mean the odds of being in the right place in the right time."

"Ah," the AI replied. "I believe the term for that, sir, is sheer dumb luck." Both laughed quietly to the amusement of any of the bridge crew within earshot. As Lasky calmed down a sombre expression came over him.

"Some were luckier than others, I guess," He said thinking to all those who died on Requiem and in New Phoenix.

"I suppose…" Roland started before cutting himself off. His head snapped to the forward of the ship as if something caught his attention.

"Roland, what's going on?" Lasky asked as he felt a slight shudder under his feet. In fact, the whole deck seemed to shudder as he noticed other bridge crew react as well. "Rol—"

"ALL HANDS BRACE FOR EMERGENCY SLIPSPACE EXIT!" Roland's voice bellowed from the ship's PA system.

No sooner had the AI declared the alert that the entire ship violently jolted. People ill prepared were thrown to the deck as 900 million metric tons of metal, composite, ceramic, and reverse-engineered Forerunner technology went from superluminal speed to relativistic in a few short seconds. Circuits broke and wires snapped raining sparks on those unfortunate enough to get caught underneath them.

In normal space an enormous vortex of bent space-time erupted from the blackness. Blueish white energy ringed the event horizon while over 5 kilometres of warship ejected itself from the 11 nonvisible infinitesimal dimensions into the familiar 3 dimensions. Arcs of energy lashed out and licked at the hull of the ship making its way past the event horizon until the final antennae passed it and the vortex closed its gaping maw.

As the portal closed behind Infinity, energy surged throughout the ship. Running lights and interior lighting visible from outside flickered before cutting out completely plunging her into darkness. A second later her three massive Boglin Fields sublight engines flickered as well before finally going dark. From her myriad of windows red emergency lighting emanated, the only indication of her presence in the void.

In the command bridge captain Lasky felt a hand on his back as he heaved himself up. For a second, he had thought he had gone blind when he opened his eyes and all he saw was blackness. Relief filled him when his vision was flooded with the red hues of the command bridge. Scanning the bridge, he saw the barely controlled chaos as his crew fought isolated fires that had erupted or helping other crew members up. More light flooded the bridge as beams from flashlights danced against the ceiling and bulkheads.

His eyes landed on the man who had helped him up. It was the helmsman, Lieutenant James, he remembered. His face contorted in a grim expression made worse by the discoloration of a bruise on his left eye and a busted lip. He looked like he was shouting at him, but he could not hear him. Lasky strained to hear what the man was shouting but that only resulted in a splitting headache and a dull ringing in his ears. As he rubbed his temples and shut his eyes. The dull ringing subsided and, slowly, the sounds of his crew shouting, extinguishers venting, and the emergency klaxon became clear.

"Sir, we have to get you to sickbay!" James' voice finally became intelligible.

"Report!" Lasky called out ignoring the fussing of his helmsman.

"We've lost power, sir," the Lieutenant said yielding to his commanding officer's hint at being left alone. "We are running on batteries; it seems to be enough for life support and gravity for now."

"I'm gonna need more than we are on batteries," the captain hissed as he stood up. Blood rushed from his head leaving white spots in his vision. He took a moment to clear his head before he spoke again. "Where's Roland?"

"Here, sir," the AI's voice came from only one of the dark holotable's speaker. "All systems are offline, even I'm running on battery mode." Lasky heard the one thing any UNSC Captain dreaded hearing in their AI's voice; fear. "Sir, we are dead in the water."

Battlestar Galactica

10 light-years away

Raptor 307 had touched down only fifteen minutes ago with its recon report of the fleet's next jump coordinates. With it, Racetrack and Skulls had also brought surveillance and star mapping photos of the next location. Photos Admiral William Adama now studied while crew and staff busied themselves around the CIC.

Overhead the rhythmic whir of the DRADIS lulled to him, drawing his attention to the rest of the CIC. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend they was back in the Cyrannus star system orbiting over Caprica. He could pretend that these were his last days as an officer of the Colonial navy, looking forward to retirement. But the reality of their lives returned to him as he looked back down on the photos on the command table.

"The last of the Vipers has just landed, Admiral," Colonel Saul Tigh said replacing the Wireless' receiver back in its place. "And all ships have received the new coordinates."

"Thank you, Saul," Bill said leaning against the table. An expression of concentration was on his face but Saul new his friend long enough to know the hints in his stoic expression.

"So, this is life now, eh, Bill," Tigh declared just loud enough for the Admiral to hear. "Stay in one position for a few days then jump to a new one."

"Given the options, it's all we've got," Adama replied.

While the modus operandi for encounters with the Cylons was usually to have the fleet jump to emergency coordinates before the last 2 battlestars followed as the rear guard, during prolonged periods without encounters, Bill had decided to jump the fleet every few days. Keeping the fleet moving, Bill thought, scattered their wireless tracks and he hoped would not lead the Cylons to Earth should they find it.

Earth. A pang of guilt fell on Adama as he remembered how he had lied to the surviving remnant of humanity. His intentions were well meaning, but that didn't change the fact that he had lied to desperate people. Only by luck did they find the Tomb of Athena revealing that Earth did exist.

"Starbuck is still requesting permission to go back to Caprica," Tigh said changing the subject.

"I know," Adama replied with a resigned sigh.

"You can't possibly be thinking of letting her go through with it," the XO almost sounded indignant of the idea.

"I'm not. But considering we're all that's left of humanity…" Adama trailed off knowing that his old friend knew what he meant.

Before Tigh could protest, lieutenant Anastasia Dualla at her communications station interrupted. "Excuse me, Admiral, Colonel, but all ships have received the new jump coordinates and have FTL ready."

"Thank you, Dee," the Admiral addressed the young comms officer before turning back to his XO. "I haven't made a decision yet, Saul, but I think we should at least hear her out if she has a plan prepared."

Tigh sighed as he went back to managing the crew. The CIC's bustling grew more fervently as everyone anticipated the jump. Adama watched with a small hint of pride as his crew— practically his family— worked diligently and with the utmost professionalism to prepare the old warship.

"Alright, everyone, we've done this before. We wait until the last ship jumps before we do. We don't leave anyone behind," Tigh declared to the room.

He made eye contact with everyone in the CIC before catching the bemused look from the Admiral. The irony was not lost on him considering the conversation the two had just had. Tigh shrugged before yielding the floor to the Admiral.

"You heard him. Helm, spool up FTL and wait for my word. Dee give the go ahead to the fleet," Adama said.

"Aye, sir," the Comms officer replied. Flipping switches, she began broadcasting to the fleet. "Attention, all ships, you are a go for jump. I repeat you are a go for jump."

Adama and Tigh then turned their attention to the DRADIS screen. One by one the green dots representing each of the ships of the fleet disappeared from the screen. The first to do so was the largest ship in the fleet; the Battlestar Pegasus. Next to vanish in a flash of light and warped space was the presidential ship; Colonial one. A minute after the order was given the last of the civilian ships had jumped leaving Galactica alone.

"Jump status?" Adama inquired.

"Flight pods fully retracted, sir," an engineer announced from his station.

"Helm?"

"Coordinates locked, sir," the helmsman replied.

"On my mark," Adama said. "Three... Two... One... Jump!"

Every man and woman on the old warship felt the simultaneous stretching and compressing of space time until the ship disappeared in a flash of light. No sooner had the old Jupiter-class warship disappeared from normal space did she return a few thousand kilometers from the rest of the Colonial fleet. It seemed that she had drifted slightly in her jump. It was business as usual—

"DRADIS CONTACT!" Lieutenant Felix Gaeta called out.

UNSC Infinity

Deep space

The relief one feels knowing a loved one has survived was the same relief Lasky felt when the normal bridge lights came back to life. With the sound of the air recyclers spooling faster, it felt like the Infinity was brought back from the dead. The crew busied themselves, those too injured were escorted or brought out of the bridge by corpsmen bound for sickbay. At the expert tentacles of a Huragok named Heavier Than Average, the holotable turned back on. As monitors and systems rebooted and crew members went about their damage control procedures, the Captain made his way back to the holotable to be greeted by Roland's avatar.

"Report," he ordered the artificial intelligence.

"Captain, Reactors one and two are offline. Reactor three is online. Shielding is offline. Defence weapons are offline. Offensive weapons are offline. Slipspace engine is offline. Sublight engines are offline. Life support is online. Sensor suite are offline," Roland listed out. "In short sir, we're blind, crippled, and vulnerable."

"Prioritize getting the shields and the defences up," Lasky said rounding the table. "Do we have enough power to open the windows? If we can't see with our sensors, maybe we can rely on visual."

The AI followed the Captain as he made his way past the holotable to the railings facing the front windows. Roland closed his eyes as he digitally reached out through the ship's software finding the right program.

"Yes, Captain, I believe we can," Roland piped up. "Opening barriers."

Lasky heard an audible clunk as the shutter's locking mechanisms disengaged. Slowly the metal plating parted presenting the inky black void of space. Pinpoints of light dotted the black field and Lasky knew they were still in space. Curious how the whole ship lost power and yet the artificial gravity remained strong enough to almost give him a concussion. It seemed like those were always the last things to go. Brushing the thought aside Lasky turned back to the holotable.

"At least we didn't crash on a planet this time," Lasky said remembering his time as Infinity's XO. "Mind telling me why we did a very dangerous Slipspace exit when nothing seemed out of the ordinary?" He eyed both Roland and lieutenant James.

"Sir, I can't say for certain. The drive gave no warning, it's as if Slipspace just spat us out," The helmsman said from his station.

"Spat us out?" Lasky's eyes narrowed as he wondered if his helmsman was making a weird and possibly career ending practical joke. "How can Slipspace just spit us out?"

"Captain, I sensed something… weird just before exiting," Roland interjected seeing the skepticism in the Captain's eyes. "It was as if all the dimensions known to science were indistinguishable for a moment."

"That still doesn't explain the 'spat us out' part," Lasky stated. "Infinity is supposed to have the most advanced engines in the fleet, shouldn't they be able to overcome any anomalies."

"At this point, sir, your guess is as good as ours," Roland gestured to himself and to lieutenant James.

Lasky knew that the little orange face of the AI served mostly to humanize him to anyone he interacted with. But he understood that Roland's confused expression was genuine. Whatever anomaly or disturbance they encountered was too great even for the Forerunner engines. The question was, was this a natural occurrence or an unnatural one? Neither was appealing to the Captain.

"Get engineering on the line," Lasky ordered. He spoke again when Roland affirmed the line was established. "Dr. Glassman, when can I expect my ship to be up and running?"

"I'm almost done powering up reactor one, Captain, we should have sublight engines up and running by now," Henry Glassman replied as he typed on a control surface. The engine room was a buzz of activity as both humans and Huragok worked on repairing the crippled supercarrier.

"Doctor, I asked to prioritize shields and defences first," Lasky said, annoyed that his chief engineer prioritized something else. Around him the ship seemed to hum as more power flowed through her and a slight shudder indicated the sublight engines powering up.

"We are, sir, but the Huragok insisted on working on the propulsion systems. They got the sublight engines up and are now working on the Slipspace drive."

"Fine, doctor, how soon can I get what I asked?" Lasky asked.

"Shields will take a little longer, but point-defence guns should be up in a couple of minutes."

"Good, next priority should be sensors I want to know what we hit and—" Lasky was cut off as a flash of light erupted outside the forward windows.

"What was that?" Lieutenant Jespersen, the communications officer, asked looking up from her monitors.

Peering out the windows, Lasky saw nothing. Only the stars in a black field were present beyond the reinforced aluminium oxynitride panes. Untwinkling and unmoving, except for a single spot where the stars seemed to move in unison. Perplexed Lasky scrutinized the spot until another flash of light surprised everyone on the bridge. The second flash lit up the darkness revealing a ship where the moving stars were. The moving stars were running lights, Lasky realized.

"A ship?" Lasky inquired to no one in particular. Before a third flash erupted.

It suddenly dawned on Lasky; these ships were jumping in. These ships were using a different kind of FTL, one that didn't rely on Slipspace. If these ships weren't using Slipspace technology that could only mean one thing; this was an entirely new civilization, one that neither the UNSC nor the Covenant were aware of. These ships jumping in just as they were forced out of Slipspace could not have been coincidence. Perhaps it was this civilization that caused the Slipspace anomaly that forced Infinity to drop. Were they trespassing on their territory? Was this a patrol fleet sent to investigate? Did the Infinity inadvertently violate a boarder?

The last question made Lasky feel very uneasy, he hoped he hadn't caused a diplomatic incident. "Comms, are they transmitting anything?" Lasky asked.

"Sir, communication systems are still rebooting," Jespersen replied.

"We have to assume they are," Lasky said. "I have a feeling we blundered into their territory and they are asking who we are. We have to get out that we come in peace."

"Captain, are you saying that this is first contact?" Roland asked. The whole bridge was quiet at this point as more flashes appeared. Everyone aboard the ship knew what happened the last time humanity made first contact with another race.

"It's the only possibility I can think of at the moment," Lasky said after a while. "I think we stumbled onto their space and what kicked us out of Slipspace was some sort of defence. Whoever they are we have to clear things out with them."

"Knowing our track record with first contact, shouldn't we prepare defences first?" Lieutenant junior grade Austen, the weapons officer, asked.

"Yes, we should, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and agree with the Captain," Roland said. "They are probably scanning us as we speak and already know our defensive capabilities are negligible at the moment, so why haven't they attacked us yet?" Austen yielded to that reasoning.

"But how can we talk to them when we don't have comms yet?" Lieutenant James asked

"the Running lights," Jespersen supplied. "Captain, if we can blink our running lights, maybe we can relay that our communications are down, buying us time to repair them and send a first contact package."

"Make it so—" a particularly bright flash interrupted the discussion.

Turning to the windows, a large ribbed hull loomed outside. Infinity's powerful running lights illuminated the latest ship to appear. Her bow was vaguely alligator shaped and flanking her sides were pods of some sort that were retracted close to her main body. Her armour plating looked mismatched, as if in the process of being assembled or disassembled. The only distinguishing markings on her dull grey hull were a couple red makings on her prow and a seal on her dorsal section.

Lasky was no naval architect but there was a sleekness to her design. More details, such as the rows of flak cannons on her back, became clear as she got closer to Infinity. The ships' angles and trajectory indicated that they were in each other's path. It took Lasky only a moment to realize they were on a collision course. One that would damage Infinity and bisect the other vessel.

"EVASIVE MANEUVERS! JAMES, BRING US UP THIRTY DEGREES!" Lasky roared.

Galactica

Deep space

"DRADIS CONTACT, BEARING ZERO-SIX-THREE CAROM ZERO-TWO-FIVE, DISTANCE TWENTY!" Lieutenant Felix Gaeta called out from his station. "ADMIRAL, IMPACT IMMINENT!"

"What the frak!" Adama cursed. "Helm, bring us down, now!"

Nozzles open throughout Galactica's hull, like pores on skin. Cones of super-heated steam erupted from them as they imparted reactionary energy unto the Battlestar. Ever so slowly the colonial warship began to dip down. Likewise, the 5.7-kilometer supercarrier nosed upwards relative to the Battlestar.

"Brace for impact!" Tigh bellowed as he and the Admiral did so. Both men's eyes were fixed on the DRADIS screen overhead.

Despite the effort of both vessels, it seemed the larger ship would strike Galactica with a glancing blow; clipping her port flight pod. However, as the last of the kilometres fell, pillars of flame erupted from the massive ship's belly, pushing it upwards faster. The blocky ship's bow flew past the flight pod, missing by dozens of meters. Flames from the larger ship's reaction control thrusters licked at the Battlestar's hull leaving black scorch marks.

An audible sigh escaped from the CIC. A collision had been avoided. The tension in the air subsided until a loud bang and a jolt echoed throughout the ship. Adama heard her hull ringing like a struck bell and he feared the worst.

"Damage report!" he ordered.

The engineer at Damage control scanned the indicator lights on the board before addressing the Admiral. "Sir, minimal damage. Whatever hit us just dented the hull on the port flight pod. We're venting atmosphere but those sections have been evacuated and sealed off."

"What the frak did they hit us with?" Tigh growled the question.

"Action stations," Adama declared. "Set condition one throughout the ship."

As the massive ship's sublight engines passed Galactica's beam, debris trailed behind it. Sparks flew from her belly from the stump of her meter wide FTL communications antennae. On Galactica atmosphere vented from the new dent she sported on her port pod until the pressure from the closed off section equalized with the vacuum of space.

Collecting themselves from a near collision the CIC now turned its attention to who or what almost hit them. Almost immediately Lieutenant Dualla's headset bristled with chatter from the fleet. She focused the bandwidth to one ship and heard the frantic voice of Commander Lee Adama.

"Galactica, what the frak just happened?! Dee do you read me?!" the younger Adama blurted losing all discipline in his desperation.

"Pegasusactual, this is Galactica,we just avoided a major collision with unknown DRADIS contact. Can you confirm?" Dualla replied keeping her composure.

It took a moment for Lee to answer but when he did the military discipline instilled in him had returned to his voice. "Galactica, confirm, major collision avoided. Scopes show impact with unknown's ventral antennae. What are your orders?"

"Admiral, I have Pegasus on the line," The communications officer said to the Admiral.

"Pegasus actual, this is Galactica actual," Adama said into the phone. "Remain with the fleet, launch alert Vipers and prepare to defend," the Admiral's tone became quiet. "Lee, when the fleet is ready, I want you to jump with them. We'll buy you some time."

"Dad—" the younger Adama started hesitantly before being cut off.

"That's an order," the Admiral stated with a bit more steel in his voice. "Galactica actual out."

Adama placed the receiver back in its place. He had just ordered his son to leave Galactica to fend off the unknown. A tough ask of any father to their son, but both Adamas knew the stakes. He turned his attention back to the CIC.

"Status on the unknown."

"Unknown is holding position five hundred kilometres to our port, bearing zero-eight-four carom zero-three-seven," Lieutenant Gaeta said eyes fixed on his screen. When he turned around to face the Admiral, shock was on his face. "Admiral, ship measures five point seven kilometres long."

"That's four times the size of Galactica," Tigh muttered. "If that's a new Cylon baseship we don't know it's capabilities."

"Launch alert Vipers. We aren't taking any chances," Adama ordered. "Get me firing solutions on the unknown."

"Admiral, I'm receiving transmissions from the unknown ship," Lieutenant Dualla said one hand firmly pressed against her headset.

"Transmission?" the Admiral asked. "On speaker."

A male voice spoke up, echoing throughout the CIC, in a language none of the colonials understood. As it spoke a pattern emerge; a repeating sequence of words as if the same sentence was said repeatedly in different languages. Everyone in the room was transfixed by the sound; there was a familiarity to it. Familiar yet foreign.

"What the frak is this?" Tigh grumbled. "Who are these people?" Tigh and Adama shared a look. The same thought occurred to both men, yet neither voiced it. Aliens.

The audio continued in different languages until one caught everyone by surprise. A language every single surviving human on the Colony fleet understood.

"This is the United Nations Space Command ship UNSC Infinity, Greetings on behalf of the United Earth Government."

A/N

I haven't written a fanfic in a very long time, so please criticize and help me improve. The idea for this fic came to me after reading others just like it, in particular Battlestar Galactica: The Guiding Fire by GunnyStacker (good fic by the way please read it and beg them to continue.) I will try to make this as accurate to cannon as possible, however some liberties/ artistic license will be taken for the sake of the plot.