Categories > TV > Babylon 5 > Macross: The Rise of Babylon
Chapter 2: ...Into the Future?
15:47 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
EAS Dauntless.
Altair System.
It was a carrier. It had a flight deck, catapults, and an island. 424 was written across the bow and on the island. It was a kilometer and a half long and was sitting thirteen hundred meters from her little Olympus corvette.
Amelia was fairly certain that it was real as well, but that was only because her crew was seeing the same thing as she was.
There were actually four ships in the system now. A smaller carrier, one that looked like it would be at home on any ocean, had appeared in the system about thirty minutes ago followed shortly by two sharp nosed patrol craft. They did not use a jump engine to do this.
She turned from the small window in her cabin and rubbed her face tiredly. 'This kind of stuff is WAY above my pay grade.'
Her com chirped and she grabbed it off her belt. "Yes?"
"The Essex's shuttle is getting ready to dock, sir."
"Alright, I'll be there in a minute. Did they say if their airlock will mate to ours?" she asked as she grabbed her uniform jacket and sipped it on.
"They say it will."
"Hmph, that'll have to do I guess." she said as she pushed off into the corridor.
It only took her a minute to reach the docking airlock. There were already several techs and a few Marines watching the shuttle slip up to the corvette's airlock when she got there.
"One meter, sixty centimeters, thirty, ten, and-" Thump "-Contact. ...They've latched on. Pressurizing... Confirming seal... Seal is good. Cycling lock."
Amelia tugged the hem of her jacked nervously. She really needed to make a good impression, these people could be Earth's salvation.
The airlock opened excruciatingly slowly. She wasn't sure what she was expecting and it certainly wasn't what she got. Someone like the Markab? The Vree? A giant space mantis? Maybe. But he looked human. In fact he looked like he had stepped out of some sort of Earthforce recruiting poster. Six foot tall, blonde, a devil may care smile, and he had that lean strong build that close combat specialist have.
"Captain Jackson?" her eyes widened, it was English! With a bit of a Yorkshire lit English. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Trace Hasting, ma'am. I'll be taking you over to the Essex. If your ready to go now?" he asked.
"Oh... Um, th-thank you, Commander. Yes, take me. Er, t-to the sh-ship that is," she stuttered and blushed.
Trace smiled slightly and stepped out of the lock. "All right then. You bringing anyone else with you?"
"Two others," she said and stepped across the lock. "Whoa!" And nearly fell on her face as gravity grabbed her.
Trace caught her shoulders and steadied her. "Careful, there. Gravity fields must be misaligned a bit. You okay?"
"Yes I'm fine," She said her face fiery. One of the Marines snickered quietly and she shot him a scathing look.
"Well come on," Trace said stepping back. "We need to get going if you want to keep your appointment."
Amelia walked stiffly into the cabin and took a seat. She watched her Marine escort, but neither of them had a problem getting into the shuttle. After they were both on board Trace closed the airlock and went to the cockpit.
Amelia looked around the shuttle curiously. It's design looked... human.
"Lieutenant, what species are you?" she asked.
Trace poked his head out of the cockpit and gave her am odd look. "You're not prejudice are you, Captain?" he said and then snorted. "I'm Human, least that's what the docs tell me." He turned back to the controls.
Amelia's brain stopped as she tried to process that. It wasn't having much luck trying to work that one out. They were to advanced. They had artificial gravity. They beat back a Minbari ship!
Trace spoke softly with the copilot and went about undocking, asking for clearance to launch, and then the shuttle and dropped away from the corvette and headed for the Essex. The cabin was quite for a few minutes before he spoke to her again.
"You dropped a big one on us, Captain," he said from the cockpit. "Telling us this was the Altair system. Explained why we couldn't figure out where we were, though. Our starmaps weren't matching anything because they were two hundred years off!" he said chuckling.
That did not help Amelia, not at all. Two hundred years! People from the future! She looked at the Marines for help, but they looked as stunned as she felt.
"Two hundred?" she asked weakly.
"Yeah, the mis-fold took us forward two hundred years."
"Forward?" she squeaked. "What do you mean forward?!"
...o...o...o...
15:58 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
UNS Essex.
Altair System.
Admiral Jack Miller sighed, setting the data pad down on his desk he turned to the windows that were the back wall of his office. The after battle reports had come in. Two ships had been lost in the mis-fold; the Jackson, a North Hampton frigate, and the Loki, an Haruna cruiser, had been too damaged to make the transition. Three quarters of the Essex's fighter compliment was scrap and it was looking like the numbers would be similar for the rest of the fleet. They would have to be replaced.
He stood abruptly and began to pace.
'Two hundred years! The damn mis-fold has carried us half way across the galaxy and two hundred years into the future!' he thought furiously.
'The first part isn't so bad, we are much closer to Earth and the First Colonies. But Earth is not answering any communications. It was almost like Earth isn't there. Which was possible, it has been two hundred years and there were several thousand Zentradi ships unaccounted for. They could have rallied and come-' The intercom chirped loudly, drawing him out of his downwardly spiraling thoughts.
"Yes?" he asked gruffly, activating the intercom.
"It's the Captain to see you, sir," his steward said.
"Send her in," he said, sitting back down at his desk.
He nodded at Maya as she entered the office and waived her to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, sit Captain. How is the rescue operation progressing?"
She sank gratefully into the chair with a sigh. "Ohhh, that's nice. We've managed to get five hundred people out of sealed compartments, sir. They're being settled into a few empty storage rooms we've converted to barracks and are being treated for shock and such."
"Five hundred out of how many? Damn," Jack sighed and leaned back. "What the hell is going on here? This happened less then twenty light years from Earth. Even in our time we would have a fleet here by now, probably more."
"I don't know, sir. The ship was odd from what the SAR teams said. And so are the other two from what the sensors are telling us. We should be getting some answers soon, though; the shuttle that was sent over to the Dauntless returned a few minutes ago and their captain should be getting here any time now." Maya frowned, "There seems to be another complication but the pilot didn't say what."
"Another one? This day just gets better and better," he said sourly.
Maya sank deeper into the chair and sighed. "Yeah it does doesn't it? I had to tell the crew that we're out of time. Most of us are used to the idea of long patrols, but this is a bit extreme." She smiled a bit, "I wonder if we'll get back pay?"
"Pfff, right. Those stingy bastards in Macross City?" Jack snorted.
The intercom chirped again. "Sir, Captain Jackson and Lieutenant Commander Hasting are here," the steward said.
"Hasting? Trace?! What's he doing here?" he asked startled, then he shot Maya a look. "Tell me he's not the pilot."
"He was, the regulars are still on rescue and recovery duty. Why, is that a problem?" Maya asked, frowning a bit.
Jack shook his head and laughed. "Ha, no, its just Trace and his team are some of the best black ops in fleet. He thinks fighting through a company of macronized Zentradi with an M-21 and a spare clip is a 'slight inconvenience.'" He turned on the intercom, "Send them in."
Trace entered the office followed by a shorter mousy haired woman in a dark blue uniform.
"Sir," Trace began without preamble, "We've got a bit of a problem. From what Captain Jackson has told me, this is not our dimension. There are-"
"You're sure of that Commander? That we're not in our dimension?" Maya asked sharply.
Trace nodded, "Yes sir. Captain Jackson told me some of this Earth's history and it does not match our own after nineteen ninety."
Maya smiled widely and looked at Jack, "Admiral, we might be able to get home if we've jumped dimensions. Current theory holds that there could be temporal deviances in multiversal systems. We may not have jumped in time just the dimensions."
"You're sure that we could get home?" Jack asked, looking intrigued.
Maya nodded, "It's a chance and would take some tinkering, but probably."
"Sir," Trace interrupted, "we can't go home. Not yet. There is something we need to do here before we even think about that. Captain Jackson, if you would?"
"Ah, right," Amelia said nervously. "Um, the ship that you fought earlier was Minbari and we're in a very bad war with them." She paused and took a deep breath, "They're trying to wipe out humanity and there is not a lot we have been able do to stop them, sir."
The office was quite as the two older officers absorbed this. Maya tapped her fingers against the chair's arm lightly. This was not home, but this was what she took her oath to prevent. She glanced at Jack, but his face didn't show anything. His eyes... his eyes showed what he had seen. He had been stationed on Ataria in a counter terrorist unit in oh-eight. His team was on the Macross the day it launched and he had managed to survive Armageddon, but had to watch as Earth burned.
"I see," Jack said, his voice thick "Well, it looks like we have a job to do before we go home. Captain Jackson, please inform your government that we will do everything in our power to insure Humanity's safety."
...o...o...o...
18:38 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
Galaxy Patrol 7th Fleet, UNS Essex.
Altair System.
Maya looked out the bridge and watched as the last ships pulled into formation. They were headed for Earth. They were the last hope of Earth.
It was a bleak picture from what information Captain Jackson had. Minbari forces had been growing almost exponentially since the first weeks of the war. It was almost like they had stockpiles of ships just waiting for a fight. And Earth was lucky enough to be their target.
'Well, we always were fighters,' she thought. "We'll just have to show them what happens when you give us a real reason to fight."
"Sir? Did you say something?" Paige asked quietly.
Maya shook her head, "No, I was just thinking aloud."
"Oh," Paige nodded. "The techs aboard the Dauntless and the Heron report that the fold engines have charged sufficiently, sir. We can fold any time now."
"I'll tell the Admiral." Maya said.
It would be a long bloody fight with an enemy that gave no quarter. Fanatics bent on Earth's destruction. The things you see in the Navy!
...o...o...o...
18:44 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
Striking Blade.
Jumpspace.
"We have completed repairs to the communications array, Alyt," the technician said bowing his head.
"Good. How do the rest of the repairs progress?" Alyt Tahden asked, still staring at the maelstrom of hyperspace.
"The armor absorbed much of the energy but most of the systems on the port side are damaged. Any that were exposed to space during the strike are heavily damaged or were destroyed." He paused, "It is odd, Alyt, there is no radiation or anti-mater residue. I do not know what kind of weapons were fired at us."
"The Grey Council must know of this. An unknown race helping the Earthers." Tahden sighed, "This is most troubling."
15:47 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
EAS Dauntless.
Altair System.
It was a carrier. It had a flight deck, catapults, and an island. 424 was written across the bow and on the island. It was a kilometer and a half long and was sitting thirteen hundred meters from her little Olympus corvette.
Amelia was fairly certain that it was real as well, but that was only because her crew was seeing the same thing as she was.
There were actually four ships in the system now. A smaller carrier, one that looked like it would be at home on any ocean, had appeared in the system about thirty minutes ago followed shortly by two sharp nosed patrol craft. They did not use a jump engine to do this.
She turned from the small window in her cabin and rubbed her face tiredly. 'This kind of stuff is WAY above my pay grade.'
Her com chirped and she grabbed it off her belt. "Yes?"
"The Essex's shuttle is getting ready to dock, sir."
"Alright, I'll be there in a minute. Did they say if their airlock will mate to ours?" she asked as she grabbed her uniform jacket and sipped it on.
"They say it will."
"Hmph, that'll have to do I guess." she said as she pushed off into the corridor.
It only took her a minute to reach the docking airlock. There were already several techs and a few Marines watching the shuttle slip up to the corvette's airlock when she got there.
"One meter, sixty centimeters, thirty, ten, and-" Thump "-Contact. ...They've latched on. Pressurizing... Confirming seal... Seal is good. Cycling lock."
Amelia tugged the hem of her jacked nervously. She really needed to make a good impression, these people could be Earth's salvation.
The airlock opened excruciatingly slowly. She wasn't sure what she was expecting and it certainly wasn't what she got. Someone like the Markab? The Vree? A giant space mantis? Maybe. But he looked human. In fact he looked like he had stepped out of some sort of Earthforce recruiting poster. Six foot tall, blonde, a devil may care smile, and he had that lean strong build that close combat specialist have.
"Captain Jackson?" her eyes widened, it was English! With a bit of a Yorkshire lit English. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Trace Hasting, ma'am. I'll be taking you over to the Essex. If your ready to go now?" he asked.
"Oh... Um, th-thank you, Commander. Yes, take me. Er, t-to the sh-ship that is," she stuttered and blushed.
Trace smiled slightly and stepped out of the lock. "All right then. You bringing anyone else with you?"
"Two others," she said and stepped across the lock. "Whoa!" And nearly fell on her face as gravity grabbed her.
Trace caught her shoulders and steadied her. "Careful, there. Gravity fields must be misaligned a bit. You okay?"
"Yes I'm fine," She said her face fiery. One of the Marines snickered quietly and she shot him a scathing look.
"Well come on," Trace said stepping back. "We need to get going if you want to keep your appointment."
Amelia walked stiffly into the cabin and took a seat. She watched her Marine escort, but neither of them had a problem getting into the shuttle. After they were both on board Trace closed the airlock and went to the cockpit.
Amelia looked around the shuttle curiously. It's design looked... human.
"Lieutenant, what species are you?" she asked.
Trace poked his head out of the cockpit and gave her am odd look. "You're not prejudice are you, Captain?" he said and then snorted. "I'm Human, least that's what the docs tell me." He turned back to the controls.
Amelia's brain stopped as she tried to process that. It wasn't having much luck trying to work that one out. They were to advanced. They had artificial gravity. They beat back a Minbari ship!
Trace spoke softly with the copilot and went about undocking, asking for clearance to launch, and then the shuttle and dropped away from the corvette and headed for the Essex. The cabin was quite for a few minutes before he spoke to her again.
"You dropped a big one on us, Captain," he said from the cockpit. "Telling us this was the Altair system. Explained why we couldn't figure out where we were, though. Our starmaps weren't matching anything because they were two hundred years off!" he said chuckling.
That did not help Amelia, not at all. Two hundred years! People from the future! She looked at the Marines for help, but they looked as stunned as she felt.
"Two hundred?" she asked weakly.
"Yeah, the mis-fold took us forward two hundred years."
"Forward?" she squeaked. "What do you mean forward?!"
...o...o...o...
15:58 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
UNS Essex.
Altair System.
Admiral Jack Miller sighed, setting the data pad down on his desk he turned to the windows that were the back wall of his office. The after battle reports had come in. Two ships had been lost in the mis-fold; the Jackson, a North Hampton frigate, and the Loki, an Haruna cruiser, had been too damaged to make the transition. Three quarters of the Essex's fighter compliment was scrap and it was looking like the numbers would be similar for the rest of the fleet. They would have to be replaced.
He stood abruptly and began to pace.
'Two hundred years! The damn mis-fold has carried us half way across the galaxy and two hundred years into the future!' he thought furiously.
'The first part isn't so bad, we are much closer to Earth and the First Colonies. But Earth is not answering any communications. It was almost like Earth isn't there. Which was possible, it has been two hundred years and there were several thousand Zentradi ships unaccounted for. They could have rallied and come-' The intercom chirped loudly, drawing him out of his downwardly spiraling thoughts.
"Yes?" he asked gruffly, activating the intercom.
"It's the Captain to see you, sir," his steward said.
"Send her in," he said, sitting back down at his desk.
He nodded at Maya as she entered the office and waived her to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, sit Captain. How is the rescue operation progressing?"
She sank gratefully into the chair with a sigh. "Ohhh, that's nice. We've managed to get five hundred people out of sealed compartments, sir. They're being settled into a few empty storage rooms we've converted to barracks and are being treated for shock and such."
"Five hundred out of how many? Damn," Jack sighed and leaned back. "What the hell is going on here? This happened less then twenty light years from Earth. Even in our time we would have a fleet here by now, probably more."
"I don't know, sir. The ship was odd from what the SAR teams said. And so are the other two from what the sensors are telling us. We should be getting some answers soon, though; the shuttle that was sent over to the Dauntless returned a few minutes ago and their captain should be getting here any time now." Maya frowned, "There seems to be another complication but the pilot didn't say what."
"Another one? This day just gets better and better," he said sourly.
Maya sank deeper into the chair and sighed. "Yeah it does doesn't it? I had to tell the crew that we're out of time. Most of us are used to the idea of long patrols, but this is a bit extreme." She smiled a bit, "I wonder if we'll get back pay?"
"Pfff, right. Those stingy bastards in Macross City?" Jack snorted.
The intercom chirped again. "Sir, Captain Jackson and Lieutenant Commander Hasting are here," the steward said.
"Hasting? Trace?! What's he doing here?" he asked startled, then he shot Maya a look. "Tell me he's not the pilot."
"He was, the regulars are still on rescue and recovery duty. Why, is that a problem?" Maya asked, frowning a bit.
Jack shook his head and laughed. "Ha, no, its just Trace and his team are some of the best black ops in fleet. He thinks fighting through a company of macronized Zentradi with an M-21 and a spare clip is a 'slight inconvenience.'" He turned on the intercom, "Send them in."
Trace entered the office followed by a shorter mousy haired woman in a dark blue uniform.
"Sir," Trace began without preamble, "We've got a bit of a problem. From what Captain Jackson has told me, this is not our dimension. There are-"
"You're sure of that Commander? That we're not in our dimension?" Maya asked sharply.
Trace nodded, "Yes sir. Captain Jackson told me some of this Earth's history and it does not match our own after nineteen ninety."
Maya smiled widely and looked at Jack, "Admiral, we might be able to get home if we've jumped dimensions. Current theory holds that there could be temporal deviances in multiversal systems. We may not have jumped in time just the dimensions."
"You're sure that we could get home?" Jack asked, looking intrigued.
Maya nodded, "It's a chance and would take some tinkering, but probably."
"Sir," Trace interrupted, "we can't go home. Not yet. There is something we need to do here before we even think about that. Captain Jackson, if you would?"
"Ah, right," Amelia said nervously. "Um, the ship that you fought earlier was Minbari and we're in a very bad war with them." She paused and took a deep breath, "They're trying to wipe out humanity and there is not a lot we have been able do to stop them, sir."
The office was quite as the two older officers absorbed this. Maya tapped her fingers against the chair's arm lightly. This was not home, but this was what she took her oath to prevent. She glanced at Jack, but his face didn't show anything. His eyes... his eyes showed what he had seen. He had been stationed on Ataria in a counter terrorist unit in oh-eight. His team was on the Macross the day it launched and he had managed to survive Armageddon, but had to watch as Earth burned.
"I see," Jack said, his voice thick "Well, it looks like we have a job to do before we go home. Captain Jackson, please inform your government that we will do everything in our power to insure Humanity's safety."
...o...o...o...
18:38 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
Galaxy Patrol 7th Fleet, UNS Essex.
Altair System.
Maya looked out the bridge and watched as the last ships pulled into formation. They were headed for Earth. They were the last hope of Earth.
It was a bleak picture from what information Captain Jackson had. Minbari forces had been growing almost exponentially since the first weeks of the war. It was almost like they had stockpiles of ships just waiting for a fight. And Earth was lucky enough to be their target.
'Well, we always were fighters,' she thought. "We'll just have to show them what happens when you give us a real reason to fight."
"Sir? Did you say something?" Paige asked quietly.
Maya shook her head, "No, I was just thinking aloud."
"Oh," Paige nodded. "The techs aboard the Dauntless and the Heron report that the fold engines have charged sufficiently, sir. We can fold any time now."
"I'll tell the Admiral." Maya said.
It would be a long bloody fight with an enemy that gave no quarter. Fanatics bent on Earth's destruction. The things you see in the Navy!
...o...o...o...
18:44 Zulu, December 19, 2246.
Striking Blade.
Jumpspace.
"We have completed repairs to the communications array, Alyt," the technician said bowing his head.
"Good. How do the rest of the repairs progress?" Alyt Tahden asked, still staring at the maelstrom of hyperspace.
"The armor absorbed much of the energy but most of the systems on the port side are damaged. Any that were exposed to space during the strike are heavily damaged or were destroyed." He paused, "It is odd, Alyt, there is no radiation or anti-mater residue. I do not know what kind of weapons were fired at us."
"The Grey Council must know of this. An unknown race helping the Earthers." Tahden sighed, "This is most troubling."
Sign up to rate and review this story