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"Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great. She has become a haunt for demons. She is a cage for every unclean spirit, a cage for every unclean bird {a cage for every unclean} and disgusting {beast}. For all nations have drunk from her the wine of her licentious passion. The kings of the earth had intercourse with her, and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her drive of luxury."
-Revelation
"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty, who was, and who is, and who is to come."
-Revelation

(1700 hours, July 16, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Lambda Serpentis system, 3,000 miles from Jericho V orbit)
A slow moving, low-class civilian shuttle interrupted the relatively calm of space. The dents, rust, and scrapes were obvious signs of age, decay, and over use of the small shuttle.

Inside the shuttle, a deeply tanned man sat in the bridge, holding an old fashioned Israeli made Uzi. Abdul Assad looked up at the readouts and digital displays on the overhead monitor. "Salim, the probe is about to exit Slipstream space. Prepare the retrieval drone."

"Preparing now," a short, Palestinian man dropped his copy of STARS magazine and jumped to prepping the retrieval drone. His hands hovered over the keypad and in a blur, jabbed in the commands. "Drone activated, awaiting order to release."

"Do it," Assad answered, staring at a digital map of the surrounding space. A small blip was in the middle representing the shuttle. Another blip appeared, the retrieval drone. Assad watched as a third blip appeared, this one about 50,000 thousand miles out. The two blips closed in on each other and then met. The now larger blip changed its flight path and headed towards the shuttle.

"Retrieval drone and Slip probe have met. Returning to us...probes boarded and sealed inside. I'm getting spectroscopic analysis and Slipstream data now," Salim Rusan reported.

"Good, did it launch the rocket?"

"Yes, with a lot of interference from the Slipstream. From the spectro analysis, it looks like we hit it," Rusan replied.

"Good, now we wait." Assad leaned back in his seat and stretched out his full six foot one inch frame. He ran a hand through his thick mat of black hair. "God I want to get this over with." Assad had planned and prepared for a mission like this for twenty years. He had trained his men and pushed them, saying that the day would come when Allah would grant them their wish and their people's freedom would come. After years of waiting one such mission came up. His mole in the UNSC government had informed him that the UNSC brass was planning one such mission. An attempt to make peace with the Covenant, the very race that had killed them and showed no mercy. Who in their right mind would think up such an attempt? For a quarter century this war has raged on and killed billions. You would think that they would have realized that peace with such an alien race would be utterly impossible...but no they were still blind. Assad thought of the very comparison he had with the damned aliens: they both were acting on behalf of religion. For a moment he felt a feeling of kinship with the Covenant. He felt that the Covenant was helping him carry out his war. The only thing on the UNSC brass's mind was this war and protecting the human race from utter annihilation. They would never have thought of a terrorist group holding a few very important people hostage.

The plan was in its infancy, but soon it would grow. If everything went as planned then he would have fulfilled his ancestors dream...Allah's dream...the very dream that was driving him to do this.

"Abdul, a ship is exiting Slip space," Rusan jumped in his seat, his voice gave no hint of him trying to conceal his excitement.

"Excellent, ready the men. Prepare to ram the ship," Assad said, getting up and leaving the bridge, his Uzi in hand.

"Right away." Rusan typed in the new course and the autopilot took over. The shuttle's engines rumbled and the nose steered towards a larger ship.

(UNSC cargo-ship Revolution, exiting Slipstream space, standing crew 34, cargo: UNSC military weapons/supplies)
The ship's onboard computer sensed the problem; probably a rogue meteor or some other rock had hit the Revolution in Slipspace. The computer automatically followed its programmed safety procedures and brought the Revolution out of Slipspace. It powered up the ships back up power and awakened the crew from Cryogenic sleep.

In the cryo chamber of the Revolution, 34 cryotubes opened and coughs filled the large room. Captain Davis sat up in his tube and coughed up the mucus in his mouth. He ran his hand over his mouth and stretched. "What the hell?" he inquired to no one in particular.

"We must be here," Davis's XO said.

"It sure as hell seems like it," Davis added. A small blinking light caught his eye. The small data pad standing next to his tube blared and a report scrolled across the screen. "Son-of-a-bitch," Davis muttered as he finished reading the printout. "Dan, we're not at Reach."

"What do you mean?" Danielson the XO asked.

"Something hit us while we were in Slipspace. The computer followed safety protocol to the letter; we stopped in the Lambda Serpentis system. We're about 50,000 klicks from the planet Jericho four, AKA Derelict."

"I've heard of this Derelict. It's a desert planet, pretty damn secluded, but not far from Earth or Reach," Danielson said.

"Right, well lets get on the bridge, and see just what the hell hit us," Davis stiffly hopped out of the chamber and walked over to the locker room.

Seven minutes later Davis entered the bridge. He hadn't the time to get into his dress uniform on so he had thrown on his dress slacks, a belt, and a white undershirt. "What's the situation Ed?"

"Sir, the object whatever it was, hit the port side and punctured engineering deck A, which of course is sealed," ops officer Edison reported. "It appears to have caused an explosion because there was a fire, which is under control."

"An explosion...must have hit one of the fuel tanks," Davis concluded.

"Highly unlikely sir, there is no type of fuel pump or tank on engineering deck A," Edison remarked.

"Then what the hell hit us?" Davis demanded.

"I don't know."

"Well, get a team of people down there in pressure suits, have them comb the deck for clues of what caused this explosion."

"Skipper, I can't override the emergency pressure doors. Once its shut it's shut," Edison said.

"Well, they'll have to use a plasma cutter to get it open and to seal it. Get to it."

"Sir, unidentified object approaching us from starboard!" Lt. Wells, the NAV officer blurted.

"Starboard camera," Davis snapped. The main view screen flickered to a picture of a rapidly approaching vessel. "That's a civilian shuttle," he whispered.

"Sir, unknown ship not changing course," Wells said, her voice was filled with panic.

"Get it on the com."

"Sir," the com officer said.

A hiss of static filled the bridge. "Unidentified civilian shuttle, this is military cargo vessel Revolution. Change course immediately!" Davis ordered. No answer.

"Sir, impact in five seconds!" Wells screamed.

"Main thrusters to full power. GET US THE HELL OUT OF ITS WAY!" Davis screamed back. "DAMNIT CHANGE COURSE YOU STUPID BASTARD!"

Before anyone could respond or type in the commands to change course to shuttle hit. The impact shook the entire ship and everyone in the bridge smacked into the deck. If the small cargo ship had an AI then they would have had a chance. There was a loud bang and the tremors shook the ship again. Davis slammed into the deck and lost consciousness almost immediately. The shaking stopped and the ship was still. The only noise was the groan of metal on metal and the humming of the engines. Davis regained consciousness and slowly got to his feet.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked. They bridge crew responded everyone was okay. "Good, damage report?" he demanded.

"Sir, the shuttle struck us on the starboard side. Hull breach in deck eleven." Edison reported.

"Damn, seal it off," Davis said. He could feel blood flowing down the side of his head.

"Sir, small contacts surrounding the hull breach. It looks like a boarding party!"

Outside the damaged ship Assad floated in the black void. He watched as the shuttle impacted with the ship and the Semtex on the front of the small civilian vessel exploded. The brilliant fireball vanished and the destroyed ruins of the shuttle floated away revealing a large hole in the ship's hull. Assad smiled, the hole had to be at least be two meters wide and two tall. "Alright everyone, use your thrusters to board the ship. Wait for further orders when you board the ship," he said over the com channel. He only hopped that his thruster pack still worked; it had to at least thirty years old. He activated it and by some stroke of luck it shot forward. He accelerated towards the hole. To his luck the Revolution had stopped accelerating and was just floating there. Assad covered the distance of 200 meters in little time and when he was two feet from the hole he shutdown the thruster pack and grabbed onto the jagged edge of the hole.

Assad pulled himself in and prayed that the jagged metal would not puncture his pressure suit. The other men behind him formed a single file line and one by one slowly entered. The second to last man was pulling himself in when his suit caught onto a bent bar and punctured his suit. The man screamed as atmosphere escaped from his suit and the deathly black matter of space sucked in. The last man pushed him aside and entered without a second glance.

When they were all inside, Rusan pulled out a portable cutter/welder. He set it against the sealed emergency pressure door and began to cut. He made a large meter and a half square. Atmosphere sucked out of the ship and space sucked in. Each of the fourteen terrorists pulled themselves into the next corridor. Rusan and three others struggled with the cut door and put it into place. He welded it shut.

"Damn, good maneuvering everybody. Now get out of these damn suits and follow me," Assad said. He ripped off his suit and breathed atmosphere again. The thirteen others did the same.
Assad drew his Uzi and slowly walked down the corridor. They came to a pressure door; its status lights were green. They walked through it and entered another corridor. "Okay, I want five of you to find the armory. I want another five to go around shooting every person you see. The other three will come with me to the bridge. Kill everyone, and let no one impede your progress."

They split up. Assad led Muammar Aidid, Ali Hassan, and Abdi Benghazi. They worked their way through several corridors until they came to an elevator. They boarded and chose level 2. Assad felt himself rise and fall as they passed between spinning sections of the ship. The doors parted and Aidid shot out into a corridor covering the right, Benghazi the left.

Aidid opened up as he saw two men walking down the corridor. "Clear," he shouted.

Assad and Hassan stepped into the corridor.

"What way, there has to be at least three doors?" Benghazi asked.

"Well, we go the way the two men came from." Assad answered. They walked past the two bodies and the pools of blood to the pressure door. Assad walked into it and it opened. It was another corridor, and there had to be at least ten doors.

"Fan out and search each door," Assad ordered. The three others walked through each door to check the inside of them.

"Here!" Hassan yelled. The other three walked over to his position. He stood in front of a door. A blue arrow on the ground pointed to it. The arrow was labeled: BRIDGE.

"Good, shoot everyone but the captain," Assad drew his Uzi and walked towards the door. It opened and Assad charged in his Uzi firing.

Edison was instantly killed as rounds tore into him. Hassan drew an old pistol and put a round into Danielson's head. Aidid fired in a quick burst and Wells slumped forward in his station's seat with two rounds in her chest. Benghazi drew his weapon and cut down the com officer. Assad brutally slammed the butt of his Uzi into Davis's head. The captain went limp and slumped to the ground. It was all over in less than ten seconds.

"Good work!" Assad smiled, looking at the four bodies that were drowning in pools of crimson blood. He grabbed the captain and dragged him into a corner. Then he walked over to the com station and transmitted on the ship wide intercom. "Attention ship crew. If you are not dead then you are either on the run or unaware of the situation at hand. My name is Abdul Assad and I am taking command of your fine ship. If you surrender now you will not be harmed. But if not then you will die," He released the transmit button.

A hiss of static filled the bridge via the overhead speakers. "Abdul, we've killed everyone on the ship," Rusan said.
"Are you sure? I checked the ships standing crew list. There are 34 crew members."

"Yes I am sure. The weapons team got to the armory cargo. We are in business."

"Good work, do a quick check of the ship then met me on the bridge, out," Assad killed the link.

He looked out to space via the main view port. The task that him and his men had just accomplished had taken years of planning and waiting. It was not easy, it demanded near impossible feats. First they had to send out an old probe (which they had stolen from a remote monitoring station) into Slipspace and launch a barely running missile into a passing by UNSC military cargo ship carrying arms that would be vital for their plans. After that they had to blow a hole in the ship and board it. It went better then Assad had planned and with only one casualty. Now it would soon be time to launch the master plan...the holy war...the Jihad.

To Be Continued...

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