Anakin sat before captain Jean-Luc Picard in the captain's ready room. "Our chief engineer has pinpointed a potential solution," Picard said. "It's going to take him a few more hours to enter the correct calculations into the computer, but it should take us home if it works."
Skywalker nodded approvingly. "We don't know an awful lot about time-travel in this universe, captain. Never mind interdimensional travel. We've never seen the need for it, and incidents have been realitviely few. I know there probably are some unreported cases, but beyond the ones I've heard, not too many more seem to appear." He stood. "I'll have the admiral appoint you a fighter escort. Guests here at times like these are our highest priority."
"I'm sure they are," said Jean-Luc. "We'll be sure to ask if we need anything."
"Good. I'll..." Anakin was cut off by the Red Alert sirens. "What...?"
"Possible enemy. They need me on the bridge." Jean-Luc strode onto the bridge and sat in his command chair. Before he could bark, "Status report!" Lieutenant-Commander Data had answered him.
"Captain, three Providence-Class vessels moving to intercept at lightspeed-plus-nine-point-nine-nine... warp ten!"
"Bring all weapons to bear on those vessels! Scatter the shuttles!"
"Vessels are moving to intercept, captain! Distance, twenty-three kilometers and closing."
"Well inside weapon range. Target their shield emitters on my mark."
"Captain," said Anakin, standing and watching the images on the main viewer, "I wondered if I could get to my fighter?"
Turning to the Jedi, Jean-Luc studied him closely. "Go. If you need any assistance, don't hesitate to ask."
"I can handle myself, but I could use a little escort." He smiled.
Picard returned the gesture. "Ensign Crusher, you are assigned to fighter escort of General Skywalker. Keep close to him at all times, and be careful."
"Yes, Captain."
The bassy bark of the Klingon sounded from the ops panel. "Captain, the lead vessel identifies itself as the Invisible Hand, the flagship of General Grievous."
"Really," mused Picard. "Concentrate your fire on that ship. Full salvo of torpedoes and a spread of phasers, on my mark."
"Anytime, Captain."
"Target their critical systems and fire!" Worf responded by tapping his keys and studying his instrument displays.
"Mild damage to their forward shields, but they are closing quickly." The Klingon reviewed the panel. "Sir, they appear to be accelerating."
"Fire at will! Use your torpedoes wisely, Mr. Worf. Mr. Data, can we get anymore power into those nacelles to buy us a little more time?"
The android swiveled to meet the stern gaze of his captain. "Not without extreme risk to the Enterprise, Captain. The ship would not be able to withstand maximum speeds for more than twelve hours without-"
"Fine. Give us as much power as you can, and compensate what little we have leftover. Mr. Worf, if we need power to the weapons?"
"We should not unless we sustain a critical hit."
"Very well." The bridge was silent for a moment in anticipation when the ship rocked violently. "Damage report?"
Worf grunted. "Minimal damage, Captain. Shields holding at ninety-seven percent."
"Captain, Venator-Class vessels approaching, vector zero-seven-seven, mark zero-seven-one."
"That'll be Yularen."
"A reasonable deduction, sir," said Data, who noticed the bridge shake beneath him. "They are hailing."
"Onscreen."
"Captain, I hope you find yourself in good company?" said the middle-aged, mustached officer.
"General Skywalker has agreed to hold off the droid flotilla as long as he can," said Picard. "All-in-all, he's given as much help as he can offer."
The admiral cringed at the statement. "Did anyone disembark with Skywalker?"
"One of my junior officers. Why do you ask?"
Yularen sighed. "We won't discuss this right now, but suffice it to say that Skywalker has a tendency to put comrades into extreme danger when he works with them."
"I still believe he is more than competent," said Picard. "When this is over, I'll talk to him."
"Captain, the Invisible Hand has increased speed. They are drawing level with our trajectory."
"Damn," muttered Picard. "Mr. Data, evasive maneuvers, Pattern Theta." Data responded to his officer's orders with immediate precision, his hands flying over the helm console.
"They should not be able to maneuver as well as we are able to, sir, though they can anticipate trajectory based on-"
"Dammit, Mr. Data, enough already!" The bridge pitched violently, sending Picard sprawling from his chair. As he picked himself up, another weapon impact jarred the officer and his skilled crew, but everyone was occupied in their own job. Still, he was unsurprised when he felt Data's strong grip on his upper arm, helping him back to his high-backed command chair. "Who's got the helm?"
"That would be me, sir," said Guinan, who had avoided donning the eccentric hat and robes unique to her species. "I don't know much about piloting a starship, but I can keep us on a straight course."
"Just in time, Guinan. Just in time."
"The Invisible Hand is pounding our shields, Captain," said Worf. "Their entire starboard battery is concentrated on critical systems. Starboard shields are presently at forty-seven percent and falling."
"Mr. Worf, target their weapons systems. Maximum power."
"Aye, sir." Worf responded with the skill and precision Picard had learned to expect from his tactical officer. "Sir, we are receiving a transmission from a Jedi Starfighter."
"Open the channel." When Picard heard the characteristic chime, he spoke. "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise. With whom am I speaking?"
"I am Jedi Knight Barriss Offee. I think you could use some assistance."
Picard smiled inwardly, relieved. "We could indeed use some assistance."
"Standby." As Picard watched and waited, he stared out the viewscreen and saw the small shape of the Jedi Starfighter dip and swerve, dodging the attacks of the CIS ship's cannons.
"Mr. Worf, coordinate our attacks with Knight Offee, and give her some cover."
"Aye, Captain." The spark of phaser-fire flashed on the screen. The bridge rocked with the impact of weapons-fire impacting the ship, but her crew stood firm. "Their starboard battery has been damaged, sir. Our attacks will be more effective."
"Don't forget they still have fighters of their own, Mr. Worf. And we're less than three minutes from our rendesvous point at Kessel."
Data spoke up. "From a thorough analysis of the Droid fighters, I have concluded that ships in this universe are far more effective in sublight combat than in faster-than-light attacks."
"And the spatial distortion at Kessel?"
Data blinked. "Kessel is known for its black holes, sir. Although it is well-known for drug mining, the pirates in charge of these operations would not be as much of a danger as anomolies." Data turned to his captain. "I often find it curious human behavior that would cause one to participate in the use of recreational drugs, sir. However, it appears as though the 'spice' in this universe would be far more dangerous if one were to come into contact..." Data's console chirped. "Twenty seconds, sir."
"Slow for our approach."
As the Enterprise dropped out of warp, the Invisible Hand came about on the main viewer. "All hands, brace for impact!" As the firing arc of the Separatist's weapons put the Federation vessel in their crosshairs, the Enterprise responded in kind with her own volley of phasers. "Mr. Worf, target their weapons and fire! Full salvo of torpedoes on those main cannons!" Worf again responded with precision, and as the beams of phasers dashed across the viewer, Picard beheld a welcome sight; just outside weapons range, Founding Father had dropped out of warp and begun pelting Grievous' ship with fire.
Dooku watched as the battle raged, his ship well out of range of both the Republic and this new Federation. I will have this Federation on their knees, he thought, chuckling. "Ahead full; let us give the Republic a taste of a true fight."
"Roger, roger!"
Dooku's cruiser moved into position, completing a maneuver with which he could bring any vessel to its end. "Launch the fighters now." He smiled as the Vulture droids flew into view on the other side of the viewing platform.
"Sir, the Federation vessels are overwhelming Separatist fighters with the help of three puny fighters."
"Jedi," mused the Count. "Just as my Master predicted." He nodded and turned on his heel. "You have the bridge, Commander."
He contemplated the Federation's role in the shaping of the new Confederacy. Anyone who does not join will die. Anyone who submits will be greatly rewarded. As he arrived in the hangar, he saw his fighter being brought out. "Has my ship been prepared?"
"Affirmitive, Supreme Leader. Repairs have been made and weapons have been replenished."
Dooku nodded. "Good." He marched up the ramp to the cockpit of his ship and sat behind the controls, closing the hatch and raising the landing gear as he made a few last checks. Everything seems in order, he mused to himself. I will crush the Jedi, and the Confederacy will prevail.
He looked to his right and saw a small squadron of Vulture droids forming on his wing. He gestured at them, using the Force to dictate his commands. The fighters obeyed, breaking off and going in pursuit of ARC-170s.
Banking toward an oncoming Federation vessel, Dooku smiled as more CIS ships arrived. "Just in time." Into his communications array, he said, "Flanking maneuvers."
