AUTHOR'S NOTE

I have not forgotten about this story. Before I go on, I would like to thank each and everyone of you if you read and or reviewed any part of my last attempt at this. And would like to apologize to everyone that my intelligence of the Halo universe was so poor. Well, life got in the way of writing this, and it gave me time to buy the games, read a bit more of the novels, and think a bit more about how to write this story. And now I am reattempting again, with a few more ideas in place. And hopefully, more justice to the Halo universe and Halo fans reading this.

I always appreciate feedback, whether it's good or critical, and I do my best to get back to you. I respond to reviews via PM so you gotta make sure your inbox is open. Otherwise I may not reply at all.

Now I hope you are all patient with me as I write this. Life is still very much in the way, and we all know how much of a bitch life can be. But I hope you enjoy the second attempt at my Halo/StarCraft mashup. I hope that these new ideas enhance the reading enjoyment and experience. Thank you all once again. Drive on.

-SM

UPDATE: I don't know if anyone will see the similarities between this story and PeteSkizzle's StarCraft II: Forward Unto Dawn or perhaps any other stories, but these are going to be different stories (primary example is his use of Master Chief, and that I will not use Master Chief). Our stories may have very similar concepts (time travel), but I do hope people lay off the accusations of copying as I came up with this story over two years ago, and have just not had the time to work on it. I support the mind of PeteSkizzle and hope he continues with his story, and think it rather amusing we have similar minds.

0629 Hours, August 30 2552

UNSC Hammer, Orbit of Reach

The ship rocked under Covanent Fire. Captain David Anselmo regained composure of himself quickly, then called out, "Status!"

His helmsman Eric Connor, or at least he would have been helmsman if the ships AI wasn't doing the piloting right now, got up from the ground and returned to his seat dashing through screens and monitors. "We have a massive hull breach on the starboard side. Sealing off the affected decks. Getting casualty calculations."

"Weapons?" Anselmo called.

"MACs one and two are both offline." The ship's AI, Toran replied. "Missile systems armed, but with the ship's damage as it is, it's only a matter of time before those systems aren't fully functional.

"Shit..." Anselmo thought as he sank into his seat. He looked up to the viewing screen. Reach was in the process of becoming an uninhabitable world of fire and glass. The Covanent glassing had begun a few days ago, and it wouldn't be too long before the planet fell. Deep down, each soldier knew as soon as the Covanent found Reach, time would tick before it fell. Almost like it was inevitable. So much for the Fortress Among the Stars...

"Orders, sir?" Toran asked.

Anselmo wished it didn't come to this, but the ship was almost as good as dead. He did not wish to leave it, especially after so recently getting issued command over it. The Hammer was Destroyer class, and a formidable ship in this class it was. Though new to the fleet, it had already seen combat and faired rather well. But every soldier knew that no ship won the war. Every ship at some point, had to sink.

Toran repeated himself, "Sir, your orders?"

Anselmo nodded. "Prepare to abandon ship. We've done all we can..."

"Understood." Toran said

Anselmo readied himself to make the announcement, when suddenly a bright flash filled up the bridge, and distracted him, and everyone else on the bridge. People fell to the ground, temporarily blinded, and crawled trying to reacquaint themselves with the environment. At first Anselmo thought something had exploded, but there was distortion that followed. A very strange happening, one he had not experienced before. As the flash disappeared, Anselmo looked to the AI and said, "That wasn't an explosion, what the hell just happened?"

Toran sounded uneasy and alert, which for an AI, wasn't exactly a good thing. "Sir, I am picking up readings of a buildup of energy on a massive scale..."

"Care to elaborate?" Anselmo asked. "What kind of energy are we talking about here?"

"That's just it sir," Toran replied. "I don't know. And- hang on. Sir, I am picking up a strong gravitational reading very close by, and it is pull-llin-pull-pu-"

Toran never finished as the ship's bridge suddenly lit up with color and light. Something strange was happening. The ship lurched as if it were being pulled at the speed of light. Anselmo heard the hull straining and felt it shaking violently. But after a few seconds, everything calmed. The systems went offline, but came back after a few seconds. The AI fluttered back to life. Anselmo looked up. The ship was drifting, no longer functioning. "Toran, what just happened?"

"To be perfectly honest, captain, I have no idea."

"Wonderful." Anselmo said. "Please find out and be snappy about it. What's the status on the ship?"

Eric turned and spoke up, "Whatever just happened, it has crippled the ship. Engines, weapons and a good amount of our sensors and communications are offline."

"Life Support?" Anselmo asked.

"Damaged, but holding." Connor said.

Anselmo nodded and as the crew on the bridge scrambled to get the ship back online, Anselmo took a look out the bridge viewing screen. Into deep space...

Wait...

Where was Reach? And as a matter of fact, where was the battle?

Toran's voice shook away that thought. "Sir, something is very wrong. Navigation systems are coming back online, and I am receiving a calculation of our current position. I'm not finding any known location near our position at all. In fact, providing this reading is accurate at all, we're over 75,000 light years from our last location."

The bridge went silent. Anselmo took one look at his AI. "That's not possible."

75,000 light years? No human had ever gone so far into the galaxy before! And there was a reason. They lacked the capability of coming out this far...didn't they?

"We didn't slipspace jump out here did we?" Anselmo asked.

"You didn't order a slipspace jump, sir. None were conducted."

One of the crewman, a Lieutenant by the name of Tringle Dodson, spoke up. "Captain, I am picking up another ship."

Anselmo looked to her. "Is it one of them? Covanent?"

Dodson shook her head. "Negative sir. One of ours. It's the Redwall, sir."

The Redwall. That brought some comfort and relief to Anselmo's mind. The Redwall was a Marathon class cruiser, which meant there was likely one of high importance commanding her. And though Anselmo doubted it, perhaps they had some clue as to what had happened.

Toran spoke up. "The ship is still damaged much too severely, but I can establish ship to ship communications."

"If you could establish that, Toran, that would be great. Also is there anything about our current position that should be known?"

Toran replied, "We are currently in orbit of a desert planet. I have no record of it, but there is a sister planet nearby as well."

"Any life readings on the surface?" Anselmo asked.

"Tons. I am unable to detect exactly what but there are plenty of life readings." Toran paused, then replied, "I've established a communication to the Redwall, sir. She's damaged pretty bad too, so I cant get you more than a standard audio communication."

"Put us through." Anselmo said. Toran did so, and Anselmo went though to say, "This is the UNSC Hammer, to the Redwall, anyone copy?"

There was some static, beforea female voice came through, "This is Admiral Jenway of the Redwall, to whom am I speaking with?"

"Captain David, A. Anselmo, ma'am. Service Number 00784-19874-DA. My ship is critically damaged, but holding. Do you happen to know what just happened?"

"No, Captain. We're not in the best shape ourselves here, but our AI is trying to piece together some of the puzzle."

"I wish we could be of some help, but we're up to our necks in this mess as well. FOr now my primary focus is making necessary repairs to the ship. When that will be, Heaven only knows."

"If I may, sir," Toran interjected, "I would suggest a small expedition down to the planet's surface."

"Why?" Anselmo turned to look at his AI.

"Repairs, without a station nearby will make repairing this ship, much more difficult. I am picking up materials on the planet down below that might make very sustainable resources for repair, but I cannot conclude that without analyzing the resources myself."

Admiral Jenway concurred, "That would sound like a very logical thing to do. We don't know where we currently are, and if our navigation readings are to be believed, we're quite far from home."

"Yeah, we got that surprise too."

Toran then spoke rather confused, "That's interesting..."

Aselmo turned his attention to the AI, and asked, "What's interesting?"

"Captain, while further making scans on the planet we now orbit, I've been receiving numerous readings, not only of the planet, but of the space around it as well. Now granted, I can't be too sure of this, because no one truly knows just how old space really is, but-"

"Toran, please." Anselmo said. "To the point."

Toran replied, "If I'm doing my calculations right, the age of space itself has decreased by exactly 48 years."

Anselmo knew what the AI was implying at, but did not want to believe it. "What do you mean, Toran?"

"Exactly what you think I mean. We may have gone back in time, Captain."

"How is this possible?!" Anselmo asked in frustration.

Admiral Jenway also seemed rather shocked, but kept her composure. "Captain, we'll figure this out soon. For now, get together what troops you can spare for an expedition to the planet's surface."

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I'm not too sure how much I can spare. Most of my forces were deployed to the surface of Reach a day ago. Most of the forces I have here are ship personnel. If I can find anyone to spare, I will gladly-"

Toran spoke up, "Pardon me for interrupting you sir, but we do have one who would be a very worthy candidate for the planet expedition."

"Who?" Anselmo asked.

"A Spartan warrior, by the name of-"

"We have a Spartan?" Anselmo asked taken by surprise. He had heard many stories of the warriors, but had never actually worked, let alone been anywhere near the deadly legends. Reach was the core world of where the Spartan project was held, and its fall, almost guaranteed the extinction of the Spartans. How he had come across this one... "How did we get a Spartan? I was never informed."

Toran spoke, "He was brought aboard by Pelican, after being found adrift in space. His suit has limited life support and would keep him alive for short time in such conditions. He was unconscious, but alive. He is currently in the ship's infirmary, and is doing fine, though still unconscious."

Admiral Jenway spoke, "A Spartan would be perfect for a small expedition. I can send over a few ODSTs as well for support. We have ourselves an expedition Captain."

Anselmo noded, and said, "I'll send them down in fifteen minutes."

Toran spoke, "Captain, I told you, the Spartan remains asleep, and I don't know if it would be logical to speed up his-"

"Wake him up, Toran. He better walk off any uncomfort he has because he is needed. I will debrief him myself."

Toran acknowledged, and said, "Yes, sir. I shall alert the infirmary that you will come and meet him."

Anselmo nodded, and asked, "What did you say the name of this Spartan was?"

Toran brought up the Spartan's file on a nearby screen, and said, "James-005."