Adrift Among Foreign Stars Halo/SGA crossover (Commissioned)

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 4

Commander Keyes reviewed the logs from when Lovell had been on duty. They were careful and intelligent. So the boy way still sharp… Was he hiding?

A gentle knock on the door broke Keyes from his thoughts of replacing Lieutenant Dagger. "Lieutenant Dominique, I said I was not to be disturbed."

"Sorry to intrude, son," a muffled voice came through as the door's pressure wheel turned and Vice Admiral Stanforth stepped inside. "But I thought I'd stop by before meeting with our newcomers."

Stanforth was smaller in person than he seemed on screen. His back was bowed a bit with age, and his white hair was thinning a bit. Still, there was a palpable air of authority that seemed to surround the man.

"Sir!" Keyes stumbled backwards to attention, knocking over his chair in the process.

"At ease, son," the Vice Admiral glanced around his quarters, his gaze pausing on the framed copy of Lagrange's original manuscript. "You can pour me a few fingers of the whiskey, if you can spare it."

"Yes, sir," Keyes grabbed another plastic cup and poured the Vice Admiral a drink.

Stanforth seemed to relax for a brief moment as he took a sip and then sighed appreciatively. "Very nice."

Keyes fixed his chair and offered it to the older man, standing slightly away as the Vice Admiral sat down, set the drink on the table, and leaned forward. "I wanted to congratulate you personally on the miracle you performed here–"

"Sir, I don't.." Keyes stopped as Stanforth held up a finger.

"Don't interrupt me, son. That was a helluva piece of astrogation you pulled off. People noticed. Not to mention the morale boost it's given the entire fleet," Stanforth sipped at the whiskey again. "That's not the only reason I'm here. The folks you met today. What's your opinion on them?"

"Well, sir," Keyes began and then stopped, trying to piece together his thoughts before speaking. "At first, we thought they were another group of aliens. Now, I'm not so sure. I think they're human. I'm pretty sure they're not insurrectionists, though. Their methods and willingness to help don't fit."

"Current thoughts from the ONI spooks aboard the Leviathan are that they're a possible lost colony," Stanforth leaned his chair back onto two legs. "Humanity spread out pretty far after we developed the slipspace drive. It's entirely possible that they're one of the ones that weren't documented."

"What do we plan to do?" Keyes asked.

"I need to talk to them," Stanforth sighed. "If they're a full nation, I'd like to see if they're willing to help. Beyond that, though. We have a battle to plan. We need a victory here. It's been too damned long. Us getting whittled to pieces by those alien bastards. So this has to be a win. No matter what it takes."

"Understood, sir," Keyes knew that morale had sagged over the last few years throughout the UNSC. No military, no matter how well trained, could stomach defeat after defeat without it affecting their determination in battles. "How is it going planetside?"

"Well, thanks to the new people we just met, we were able to evacuate all the surrounding cities and most of CÔte d'Azur before the Covenant began slaughtering," Stanforth smiled. "General Kits has them on the back foot. We can win the ground. That's never been a problem." The Vice Admiral's bravado seemed to quiet down a bit. "It's the rest of the fight we have to win. Now, you leave the rest of the thinking of what the aliens might be doing up to the spooks in ONI, son. Just get the Iroquois patched up and fit for duty again. And you let me know if you need anything."

Stanforth swallowed down the rest of the whiskey and stood. "I've got to meet with the newcomers and marshal the fleet. Oh," Stanforth paused. "One more thing," he pulled a cardboard box out of his jacket pocket before setting it down on the Commander's desk. "Consider it official. The paperwork will catch up to us soon enough."

–
–

"Interesting design," Larrin noted as the transport that had moved into the Daedalus's bays. "Very utilitarian."

"Well, I think it looks cool," Sheppard folded his arms across his chest. "Like something out of Aliens."

"You know, now that you mention it," McKay commented. "It does kinda remind me of that."

"Sirs, ma'am's," A uniformed man stood just inside the craft's bay as it lowered, his hand holding onto a handle at the edge. "If you'll step aboard, I'm to take you to the meeting section of the Cradle. Vice Admiral Stanforth is waiting for you."

Larrin and Katana were among the first to board and take seats on the craft, closely followed by AR-1.

"One moment," the man moved to the door that led to the cockpit and tapped it twice, signaling for the troop bay door to shut and for them to take off. "It'll take us a few minutes to get to the docking bay of the Cradle."

"Speaking of which," McKay interjected. "Why design something that's almost literally a square with engines on it?"

"The Cradle's a repair and refit station," the man brimmed with pride. "When we're running at full tilt, we can repair and refit six destroyers simultaneously within five hours.

"Impressive," Larrin said. "What would it take for us to acquire one of these stations?" Larrin asked.

"I have no clue, ma'am," the officer shuffled uneasily. "I'm just here to take you to the Vice Admiral."

With that, an awkward silence filled the troop bay until they arrived and were led into the buildings of the Cradle and into a conference room.

"Ladies," an old man in a similar uniform to that of the man from the pelican stood at the end of the table, four bars on his collar, a pistol on his hip, and graying hair belying his experience. "Gentlemen. I'm Vice Admiral Stanforth, the current commander of UNSC CENTCOM Region 3 and of Battlegroup Leviathan."

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, this is Teyla Emmagan, Ronin Dex, Doctor Rodney McKay, Larrin, and Katana Lebrea," he went through and introduced everyone that was with him. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Normally, you'd have been met with a bit more suspicion," Stanforth said, gesturing for them to pull out a chair and take a seat before doing the same. "However, we owe you one for taking out that Covenant Carrier before it could drop off more than a handful of troops. So, we need to talk histroy. Who are you, Where are you from, and what are your intentions towards the UNSC?"

"We're peaceful explorers from a place far away," Sheppard gestured towards himself and AR-1, neatly sidestepping the issue of Earth. "Larrin and Katana are Travelers; their people mostly live on ships. We were supposed to be scouting out a region of space that we hadn't been to in a while, and ran into an ambush. Strange set of circumstances later, and here we are."

"Despite our circumstances, we wish nothing more than to become trading partners and potential allies," Teyla said smoothly. "It is unknown if the enemies we faced before being brought here are present or not. However, we would be remiss if we did not warn you of the dangers."

"Well," Stanforth said after a minute of digesting everything. "I'd like to look at the full breakdown of what happened in that battle. We've had strange mishaps in Slipspace of our own, and researching yours could help us."

"Unless you have records of a gas giant turning into a star, I'm afraid none of our documentation would be helpful to you in the slightest," McKay interjected. "What happened was a freak accident, a fluke. I doubt I could get it to happen again if I wanted to."

The Vice Admiral had paused and was looking at McKay with a considering look.

"What kind of Gas Giant?" Stanforth asked, his aging face had an intense stare to it. "Please, any information or data you have on the jump or the gas giant itself could be useful to us."


"A supergiant," McKay replied. "It seemed to be gaining enough mass to turn into a star while we were in the system. We made the jump at the last possible second before we would have been vaporized. As for the data," McKay glanced at Sheppard, who merely nodded. "I can leave a copy of it."

"I would like to discuss a possible alliance," Larrin finally interrupted, having allowed the SGC personnel and the UNSC Admiral to speak the entire time. "My people are primarily ship dwellers, and it is clear that you are capable of manufacturing said ships. We would be willing to allow a significant technological exchange in order to obtain some of your ships."

"I don't have the authority to grant that," Stanforth replied. "That would have to be taken up with HIGHCOM and Lord Hood. For now, I just need you to stay out of the way while we secure the system. The Covenant is going to be back, and we're going to beat them."

"Or," Sheppard offered. "We can help out a little bit."

"I don't even know what you're capable of, son. Much less if you want to even get involved here," Stanforth replied. "I'd prefer it if you just stayed out of our way and let us fight. However, I acknowledge that you're not a part of my military. I cannot order you to stand down and stay out. If you feel you need to get involved, that's your business. Just stay out of our lines of fire. Now, I'm afraid I have to cut this short. The Covenant are on their way. And I'm out of time. Ensign Lash, please escort these people back to the Pelican. It's time to fall in line."

"Ma'ams, Sirs," Ensign Lash nodded at them. "If you'll follow me. I'll take you back to the hangar."

"So, it's a Pelican?" Sheppard asked the ensign as they reached the bay. "How does she fly?"

"You'd have to ask a pilot for that information, Sir," Lash replied. "I repair things, I don't fly. That said, good Pelican pilots are hard to find these days."

"Why is that?" Sheppard asked.

"Because most of them didn't make it back…" Lash trailed off. "I'll be seeing you around, Colonel. Try to not get burned out there."