Halo/KanColle crossover, feel free to make a manga adaption

[Richard Scepton]

It's called Final Frontier. There are currently 7 chapters published.

Here is Chapter 1 for everyone:

NOTE: the fic is rated T on the FFFN database i.e. swearing a lot is common, and the like. Proceed at your own risk. I shall not be liable if you find the following content offensive.





Darkness...sleep. Peace.

UNSC Providence. Artermis-class battlecruiser. Flagship. Battlegroup Liberation.

Stirring...something calling for her.

The screams. The shouts. The triple bangs distinctive to MACs. The hiss of plasma torpedoes. The screech of energy bangs of naval coilguns. The roar of Archer missiles. The thunder of Stoski cruise missiles. The thumps of Harpoon short-range missiles.

Return...we need your aid.

Civilian transports destroyed. Ships destroyed. The proud Eagle, Globe, Banner of the UNSC. In shambles. Civillians, brutally murdered. Planets, destroyed, their surfaces hot, marred glass. Entire continents, afire.

Please...return to aid us...

The Eagle never fell. It never gave up. Through decades of war, it persisted. It never withdrew. It struck back a thousand times harder than anyone thought possible. Through it all, It advanced, without falter.

Return! We need your aid!

I have sworn an oath. To preserve, defend, and uphold humanity to the very end. No one can stop me. I shall keep on, shall soldier on, until my dying breath to the void that saw my demise. My loyalties are to my creators, To Humanity I stand.

Please, come back to us, proud warrior of the ocean!

I shall. UNSC Providence, Artermis-class battlecruiser, reporting for action. Where humanity is, I am.

And I shall advance without falter.

Combat Stations.

<>


The first thing she felt upon waking up was pain. And sure it hurt. Her head hurt like a damn *censored*er. And she didn't know exactly why.

Standing up, she patted herself top to bottom. She had no broken bones (obviously). And then reality hit home.

Where's my comrades?

Sending a full self-check through her systems, nothing was good. A ping from to her slipspace drive resulted in an error, her superluminal comms units were offline, her FTL sensors were offline, meaning that she was limited to nothing but short-range active sensors and maser for radar and comms, respectively.

Her comms unit (what's left of it) noted a lack of deep space communication and was only able to pick up high frequency radio waves and low-end band transmissions from the local area, and found no slipspace transmissions, beacon signals, or anything else pointing to UNSC origin. Further raising her suspicions, the signals were encoded in the ancient binary format that had been ditched centuries ago when quantum fluctuation computers were invented.

The fire control systems for her MAC was offline, and so was her torpedo tubes, but her Archer pods and Stoski VLS tubes were both functional and running. So was her Spree coilgun batteries, which were identical to the triple 283mm turrets on the famed German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spree, but they fired a magnetically accelerated 200 ton projectiles to forty percent the speed of light, being able to completely drain the shields of a CCS-class battlecruiser and deal crippling damage to it in one salvo. She carried thirty such turrets.

Sighing, she checked her sensor systems. She was able to detect multiple contacts a few dozen klicks away, and immediately warmed up the fire control systems for her coilgun batteries and missiles, decades of experience fighting Covvie foes telling her to take no chances. As soon as the targets closed in to a few kilometers, her coilguns turned around and began the process of acquiring targets, her making it clear that if they opened fire, she would delete them from existence immediately.

A flash of smoke and flame coupled with a loud bang prompted her to maneuver sideways, and was followed by the water erupting in a geyser right where she was standing a few seconds before. Her coilguns were designed to hit targets moving at insane speeds, and immediately tracked the enemies. Nodding, she had her coilguns open fire.

If the muzzle flash of the enemy ships was blinding, the flash of the Spree naval coilguns made them seem like toy flashlights in comparison. 200 ton projectiles exited the muzzle at speeds of up to one-hundred and twenty-thousand kilometers per second, the giant sonic boom that resounded was enough to send waves in all directions from the air being suddenly shoved aside violently as the slugs continued on their plank-time trajectory, and even then, they had already turned to plasma from the sheer kinetic energy and friction of the atmosphere, and would appear as a laser beam to the naked eye. The lead alien was vaporized outright, its armor offering literally nonexistent effectiveness against a 200 ton ASPTC shell slung at 40% lightspeed that had already turned to plasma, and was designed to pierce Covenant shields and armor in a single go. The other aliens that were unlucky enough to be in the sights suffered the same fate, simply ceasing to exist altogether as the armor/shield-piercing tungsten-carbide shells turned it to plasma and the sonic and air shockwaves wreaked further havoc as the alien(s) unlucky enough to be in the blast got sent tumbling several hundred feet away to be easy prey for a few hundred Archers launched from one of her many five-pod clusters.

As soon as it began, it was over.

Providence reviewed the results of the fight. Removing her "crossbow", she took out a bolt and loaded it into the weapon. Taking quick aim, she let loose the bolt, which after clearing her, transformed into a wing of Longswords.

They screamed of in the direction of the setting sun, engines screaming as they left.

Checking her sensors, she noticed a second group of contacts not far of.

Let's see how this goes, she thought.

Having her missiles lock on the contacts still over the horizon (the coilguns were flat-line entirely as per their muzzle velocity being several times escape velocity), she ordered the wing of Longswords move off towards the contacts.

<>

"Nothing to report, but sea, sea, sea..." Fubuki said over the COM.

"Amatsukaze here, water also,"

"Kaga, maybe you should launch a recon flight," said Fubuki.

"There's nuthin' here save sea, sea, sea..."

"Roger, launching—"

*BANG!*

"What the hell just happened?" Amatsukaze demanded.

SCREEEEEEEE*WHAM!*

"What?" Fubuki yelled in surprise, complete caught off guard by the sudden noises.

Kaga picked herself up from the water.

"It's coming from the distance," she muttered.

"Then launch the flight."

"Roger, launching."

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Now what the *censored*?" Hibiki demanded. Overhead, the noise grew louder and louder and finally turned to a full-blown jet scream as a group of two craft of ungodly size flew overhead. Their dark grey features glimmered in the setting sun, as their manta-ray shape cast a shadow over the water. Dipping a "wing" over the group, they maintained a defensive formation as they made a pass overhead before turning around and making another. Their engines glowed spookily as their intimidating features made Fubuki look twice at them.

Almost on cue, they made a swift one-eighty turn and flew back in the direction that they came from.

A/N:

I happened to run into a writer's block on my other GuP stories, so I decided to clean this doc up. I wrote this quite a long time ago. I'll be heading back to GuP for a while, but I'll update whenever I have the chance.

Au revior, and 'till next time!

As of this publishing:

Hope you enjoy. And, considering the folk here, yeah. Feel free to comment, review, or whatever. A manga adaption may be quite nice though, but some art of our battlecruiser here is also awesome!

This happens to be my pet project. I am also working on adapting this as a mod for Stellaris (to be more exact, it's sequel).

Here is the link for those who want to read more:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13895398/1/Final-Frontier